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#GIVE STEVE A SISTER PLEASE
theshippirate22 · 9 months
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I posted this and expected it to be a good ol’ two note post but it got a lot of love so I got brainworms. thanks to my personal cheerleader @your-stranger-halfblood-things you’re a dear my darling <33
Stacy really isn’t expecting anything.
To everyone else it’s just April 23rd. There might be a track meet tonight, but even then, it’s ridiculous to equate that to anyone actually thinking of today as a holiday.
Stacy is really, really hoping it can just be April 23rd for her today too.
For a minute, she just lays there on her stomach, face buried in the pillow, and imagines that it’s not normal, that it’ll be just like the days Lottie and Christina turned 17, with laughter and presents and phone calls from home….
It won’t be like that, and she’s knows that, and she knows Olivia is going to do her damned hardest to make it the best day ever, which probably means she’s going to be particularly sweet all day and then they’re gonna have crazy awesome sex tonight and that’ll be that, and it’ll be April 24th and Stacy will be 17.
“Stacyyyyyy…” Olivia sings as she comes in, practically pouncing on her and tickling her sides.
“Ah, God, Liv! It’s seven am!” She squirms away, laughing despite her best efforts. “Cut it out.”
“I’m like 90% sure you have to get tickled on your birthday or you don’t grow right.”
“Oh yeah? What’s your source on that one?”
Olivia climbs over her, settling in between her legs so she can pop her elbows up on either side of Stacy’s head and box her in. “Mm, probably that one medical journal we had to read in Luther’s class.”
“Oh? Conveniently the one I couldn’t read?”
“Mhm,” She nodded adamantly. “See, if you had powered through the frankly macabre and horrific descriptions of blood and boils, you too could know the dangers of birthday tickle deficiency.” She punctuates it with a swift kiss.
“Gross, stop it,” Stacy laughs, weakly pushing her away but not stopping her from nuzzling into her neck and biting softly along her throat.
“Now listen, Stace,” She says, moving up to kiss all of her face. “We’ve got a very strict schedule to keep to today. You’ve got ten minutes before Lottie is coming in here to do your makeup. I told her to keep her hands off your hair, but you know how she is, so I’m afraid that’s a battle you’ve got to fight for yourself.”
“Why’s she doing my makeup? Is something happening?”
“Um duh.” Olivia pulls back to stare at her like she’s stupid. “You’ve got to look fabulous. Because, if I’m not mistaken, you’re turning seventeen at exactly 8:37 this morning and that’s reason for celebration indeed.”
“Why are you talking like that?” Stacy laughs again. “You sound like a founding father. Wait!” She pushes Olivia’s face from hers to ensure she can look her in the eye. “You didn’t tell Lottie it was my birthday right? You didn’t go around telling everyone?”
“No!” Olivia cries, seemingly outraged. “No, I would never!”
“Why are you smiling like that? What did you do? Liv!”
“I didn’t tell Lottie or Christina.”
“Liv!”
“But I may or may not have told Greg, who may or may not have told Lottie and Christina.”
“Oh my God, Olivia Nicole Moore, whyyyyyyy?”
“Because, Stacy Linda Harrington. I love you.” Another kiss, right on the lips. “And I am very stubborn and determined to show you that your family is full of asshats and you should forget about them and remember that you’ve got a family here. Who also loves you.”
Stacy wanted to argue more, but not really, because she was feeling particularly warm and happy in a way that she hadn’t felt for a long time, so she took the chance to kiss Olivia deeper.
Lottie came tumbling in not long after, and Stacy played beauty shop customer with her while Olivia watched smirking from where she sat on the bed. Stacy curled her hair and put on her uniform and Christina came to see what was taking them all so long before dragging them to breakfast.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the lady of the hour!”
“Hi, Greg,” Stacy grins, rolling her eyes.
“Happy Birthday, little missy,” He put his hands behind his back and stood on his toes, leaning toward her. “I know I’m supposed to remain impartial because I’m a TA and shit, but you do know you’re my favorite, right?”
“Impartial, my ass,” Olivia snorts. “Like you even try.”
He shushes her playfully then adds, “I have something for you, Stace.”
“Oh? What is it?”
He leads her back into the kitchens- just her; her friends wait patiently in the hall- and delivers a heaping stack of hot pancakes into her hands.
“It’s not Pancake Day?” Stacy says, trying to ignore the bubbling excitement in her stomach.
“Nah, but I know they’re you’re favorite, so I paid The Beast to make you some anyway.”
“Greg…” She wasn’t going to cry over this. That was ridiculous. God, no one had made her pancakes since she lived in Indiana and that was almost five years ago. “Thank you.”
She flings herself into his arms, holding out the plate to the side to preserve the gift and he rolls his eyes but hugs back nonetheless.
“Go eat with everybody else, I’ve gotta go get the mail, see if you have some birthday cards.”
She scoffs but doesn’t let it bring her down.
So that’s how she ends up in the lunch hall with her friends and her stack of pancakes. At one point, Miss Beastion (aka The Beast) comes to wipe down tables and breaks her glare for a moment to wish her a happy birthday and almost smiles.
Greg brings the mail around to their hall, all thirty of them, and there’s a box and a letter for Stacy.
She picks up the off white envelope first. “Here’s the card from my parents,” she explains. “Let’s put out bets now, yeah?”
“Dear Beloved Daughter,” Christina starts and Lottie bursts into laughter.
“It is your birthday,” Olivia continues.
“Hope to do business with you in the future, Richard Harrington,” Stacy finishes sardonically, slipping her nail under the adhesive and tearing it open.
Their jokes aren’t far from the truth. The card is completely white-except for the back side, which has the Harrington company logo on it- and inside all it says is “Happy Birthday! Love Mom and Dad” with three hundred dollars wedged in.
“Thanks, Donna,” Stacy murmurs.
“Wait, I thought Melanie was your dad’s secretary?” Lottie cuts in.
“Melanie is the one he’s fucking,” Stacy explains and Olivia laughs because she can’t help herself, adding “For now.”
“Donna is too old for him, thank God. She’s his real secretary, the one that used to babysit u- me. She’s been sending cards instead of them since I was like. Ten.”
“Fuck ‘em,” Olivia says suddenly. “Fuck them all! They’re such assholes, all of them!”
“Preach!” Christina whoops. “Fuck them!”
Greg looks up from the staff table, probably because one of the teachers told him to contain his hall, and he comes over for a minute, quickly realizing what’s going on. With a mouth full of blueberry muffin, he agrees, “Oh yeah, fuck the Harringtons.”
“Yeah, fuck ‘em,” Stacy repeats, with less conviction. “Come on, let’s see what this thing is.”
She pulls the box toward her. There’s no name on it besides her own, no return address, no nothing. Lottie takes out her hoop earring and hands it to her so she can use the point to slice open the tape, at which point she hands the earring back and rips the box entirely open.
She isn’t entirely sure what she’s expecting. Whatever it is, though, it’s not what she’s actively looking at.
“What is it?” Greg says through another bite of muffin, peering over her.
Inside the box, is a three inch stack of Bop magazines, undoubtedly issues from at least a couple years with the latest on top, some Wonder Woman comic books, an entire rainbow of nail polish, a new hairbrush, some of the soap you could only get from a shop on Main Street in Hawkins, six or seven 3 Musketeers bars (which happened to be her favorite since she was what? five?), an Agatha Christie book, and three cans of Farrah Fawcett hairspray.
“Is it from your parents?” Christina mumbles, lifting the box to check the bottom and sides for a name. She must find nothing, because she sets it back down dejectedly.
“I don’t… I don’t think so? They wouldn’t send stuff like this to me anyway… it’s too… fun.”
The girls dig into the magazines while they finish eating, and Lottie and Christina get in an argument over whether Matthew Broderick or Tom Cruise is objectively hotter and Greg decides for them, siding with both Lottie and Broderick, much to Christina’s dismay. Then bells are ringing and classes are starting, and the group gets separated.
It’s during third period that it happens. One moment she’s taking notes on symbolism in Macbeth, and the next Greg is leaning on the doorway with a satisfied- albeit surprised- smirk.
“Stacy’s call,” he offers in explanation.
It’s a thing at the school, the calls. A lot of kids are from out of state, some are out of country, so the rule is that every kid can get a call from their parents on their birthday during class. Otherwise, they’ve just got to wait until one of the school’s payphones is open to reach home.
The thing that has her staring at him in shock is the fact that her parents haven’t called in literal years. She gets her compulsory card from Donna and a fistful of cash to buy her satisfaction, and that’s the end of the birthday things.
Last year, she lied when Christina asked. Said she got it during chemistry, the only class she didn’t have any friends in. No one to verify or validate. Greg had covered for her when he overheard the lie.
The year before that, Donna had called instead, saying her Father wanted to call but he was in Taiwan and didn’t have any phone reception. Which was also a lie. But she appreciated it anyway. She cried in the shower that night and Olivia had found her She didn’t ask, for which Stacy was grateful, and they were good friends after that. Until they were girlfriends.
So Stacy is more confused than anything else while she follows Greg back to the office phone. She hadn’t really done anything particularly noteworthy in the last little bit; no reason for her parents to remember she was living and breathing, nothing deserving the call. Maybe they want to yell at her and this is the only chance they know for sure they’ll be able to talk to her.
Greg hands her the receiver and she holds it in her hand for a minute, taking a minute to compose herself for the beat down that’s about to come before she lifts it to her ear.
“Hello?”
“Oh! Hi.”
“Dad?” she mutters in surprise.
“God, please don’t tell me I sound that much like him.”
“You don’t,” she assures suddenly, because it’s true that he really doesn’t sound like her father but she isn’t sure who else he could be.
“Um… It’s Steve…”
Oh.
Oh.
“What? Oh my God, why is your voice so deep?”
He laughs softly. “I’m nineteen, Stace.”
And isn’t that just wild. That snotty whiny kid that threw a fit when she was going to start middle school and refused to be seen in the same district as her is a grown man.
All she says is, “Oh wow.”
“Well, I’m calling to say happy birthday. Sorry they took you out of class… I… I didn’t have your schedule so I was trying to guess? Apparently I didn’t do as well as I thought.”
“Uh, that’s okay,” she murmurs. “It’s kind of a thing around here to be pulled out of class for this anyway.”
“Yeah, it’s your one call for the year, huh?” Suddenly he sounded very small. “I, uh, I tried to call dad. To remind him. But, uh, he changed personal lines and didn’t tell me the new number, and every time I called the company, they just kept rewiring me to Donna, so she gave me the number so I could just call myself. So, um, sorry. It’s just me.”
For just a second, Stacy has that fleeting warmth of being loved, but it’s paired with this agonizing, overwhelming desire. She doesn’t know what for; maybe for him to be like this all the time, maybe for things to be different with their parents, with everything else.
“That’s okay,” she says quickly, trying to sound indifferent. “Thanks for trying anyway.”
“Yeah.” There’s a lapse and he forces out quickly, “Did you get my present? I was trying to time it right so it would get there this morning-“
“That’s from you?”
“Uh, yeah. I hope it’s okay. I didn’t… didn’t really know what to get you, but, uh, the girls I babysit said it was a pretty standard teenage girl gift and they’re like the smartest people I know. But if you don’t like it you can sell the stuff or just give it away and I can send you something else! Just tell me and I’ll get it! I just… when I opened my cash Christmas present I kinda snapped and lost my shit and I figured you’d want something other than cash but I don’t-“
Stacy has about twenty five questions regarding this, starting with “You’re a babysitter?!” but instead she smiles softly at his awkwardness-also so weird for him- and murmurs, “It’s great, Steve. Me and my friends will have a blast.”
“Oh I’m glad. Max said stuff like that is the staple to any good sleepover and boarding school is like an infinite sleepover, right? So I thought I better up the quantity? I don’t know, it made sense to me…”
“Yeah, no, that makes perfect sense,” She agrees quickly. “That’s really… heartfelt.”
“Hopefully it’s better than The Card.”
“God, yeah, they aren’t even trying,” she relays the message from said card, and he snorts.
“You know it’s from Donna, then. Dad’s has never called himself anything other than Richard.”
They laugh about it darkly, and for an instant the solidarity between them is so strong it’s like they were borne from the same soul. Like they aren’t strangers who share a name.
“Hey, listen, Stace,” He adds slowly. “I know you usually go back to the Carolina house or something for summer break- you went to Cabo last year, right? But if… if you want, of course, you don’t have to, but you could come stay with me in Indiana. My friends would love you, you know? I think you’d have fun. It’s not Cabo, but… you know…”
The invitation is weird. Not entirely unwelcome, but bizarre, given that the last time they spoke to each other, they actually weren’t talking to each other.
“Are you dying, Steve?” And she’s only half joking.
He laughs once, awkwardly again. “No. I am very much alive. But, uh, a lot has changed. With everything. Hawkins. Me. You, probably. And it’s stupid that I’ve just been pretending you don’t exist. We don’t… we don’t have to be pitted against each other all the time, you know? We’ve got a common enemy here. And I’m… I’m so sorry about how I was. I’m not like that anymore. At least I’m really trying.”
She swallows back the soft hope building in her throat. “God, they’re such assholes, aren’t they?”
And that’s all it takes. The understanding is so profound it doesn’t need anymore explanation. Especially when Steve adds exhaustedly, “Yes. Yes, they are.”
The treaty is solidified. The olive branch taken.
He asks her a few more questions about her birthday, the standard things, and she tells him about her pancakes and the cupcake she’ll get at lunch and that Greg will probably make the whole cafeteria sing to her, and she pointedly leaves out the plans Olivia has for her tonight and the blunts she bought a few weeks ago for a special occasion. She writes down his number and she seriously considers snagging a payphone and calling him a few times before school gets out.
By the time she hangs up, she walks to fourth period, that she is significantly late for, and when she slides into her seat next to Olivia, she’s got a peculiar little smile that won’t seem to go away.
“Was that your call?” She whispers, even more shocked than Greg.
“Mhm,” She nods dazedly.
“It was your parents? Did they yell at you?”
“It was my brother,” Stacy says softly.
She didn’t think it was possible for Olivia to look more surprised but somehow she manages, eyebrows shooting up and eyes growing wide.
She doesn’t say anything else, instead turning her attention to Mr. Hansen’s lesson, until Olivia elbows her and mutters, “What are you thinking about?”
Stacy grins. “Do you wanna come to Indiana with me this summer?”
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tending-the-hearth · 1 year
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Thinking about how much Steve loves his original kiddos SO much.
Like he loves all of the kids and would absolutely die for every single one of them, but Dustin, Max, and Lucas are his.
They’re the first ones he protected, the first ones he risked his life for, the first ones he met and connected with.
Mike pretty much refused to get to know Steve because of their history, he never had a chance to connect with Will and El on his own, but Dustin, Max, and Lucas?
those were his kids from the absolute beginning of everything.
Dustin saw him walking towards the Wheeler's house, he could have gone anywhere else, but he saw Steve and said "i pick him", and Lucas and Max did the EXACT same thing, watching him go up against the demodogs with nothing but a nail bat, shoving Max back and putting himself in front of a trio of kids he barely knew inside of the bus.
Steve literally knew Max for a few hours, and he didn't know she was Billy's sister until he showed up, but he heard the fear in her voice, and did not hesitate to step up against the man who had been making his own life a living hell.
Steve probably knew he couldn't win against Billy, but the second he saw him going after Lucas, an innocent kid who was just trying to befriend the newest arrival in town? I firmly believe that's the moment where Steve said "those are my kids, and nobody fucks with my kids"
and when Erica gets involved the following summer? Yeah, Steve knows she can handle herself, but she's also younger than any of the Party was when they got involved, so he's a little extra protective of her, checking in on her when he goes over to help Lucas practice for basketball tryouts
and don't even get me STARTED on Lucas and Steve bonding with each other post-season 3. I think Steve and Dustin get a little separated when the Party got to high school, because Dustin became so excited about being part of Hellfire, and as much as he tries to help Max, she's moving away from everyone, so Steve absolutely feels like he's losing his kids a little. But then Lucas shows up, and tells him he's going to try out for basketball, and all of a sudden, Steve's got special time to spend with Lucas, where they just talk to each other. Lucas talks about struggling with school, and worrying about Max, and finding his place, and Steve gets it all.
just... special movie nights that consist of Steve, Dustin, Lucas, Max, Erica, and Robin.
Arcade afternoons what have Max surrounded by her favorite people as they cheer her on at whatever game she's playing.
Basketball games post-everything where Lucas looks at the stands and sees them screaming and cheering for him.
Erica and Dustin going to the gym one afternoon to help with the relief efforts and seeing Steve being held back by Robin, Jonathan, AND Argyle as he screams at Andy for touching HIS little sister (and if Erica gives Steve the biggest hug she's ever given anyone after that... well, that's her business).
the way they form a little second found family within the main Party?? how they all love each other so much and tell each other things they'd never tell another soul???
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Here's to Us | A Stranger Things FanFiction
Chapter 2
Prev | Next
Flickering lights and a blonde with a nose bleed sends Joan Destiny back in time to 1985 as Joan Agatha, supposedly her aunt whose existence she had never heard about before. A fan of Back to the Future and Doctor Who, Joan knows how changing the course of the future could end for her, so she decides to act the part - no matter how hard it can be. Between Russians, drug dealers, and interdimensional monsters Joan is left with one question...
ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴊᴏᴀɴ ᴀɢᴀᴛʜᴀ? ¿ɐɥʇɐɓ∀ uɐoſ oʇ pǝuǝddɐɥ ʇɐɥM
24 May 1985 Hawkins, Indiana
When Joan woke up the first thing that hit her was the headache.
The second thing was the blinding realization that oh my god she's alive followed by a spaz-attack where she grabbed every part of her body and then finished at her throat, sighing a relief that she was fully intact and fell back on the grassy ground to calm down with the warmth of the sun on her skin.
Only to sit back up again in a panic.
Joan was almost positive that Hawkins had been nearing winter when she had last been awake with crunchy leaves already on the ground and dozens of assignments piling up amongst her classes. Anxiously, the girl stood up and brushed off her skirt, scowling that of all the days for something weird to go down she had to look so stupidly proper.
"Joan? Joan?!" 
"Grandma?" Joan asked in confusion looking behind her at the voice and pushing herself off the ground to trek over. The familiar home from the 70's on a hill filled her vision within a few seconds and she frowned, pausing with a weird feeling crawling up her back. "Where are her roses...?"
The screened back door quickly slammed open and Joan's eyes widened in shock at the woman who eyed her in relief. "Oh, good heavens Joan! You gave me a scare. You know I don't like you hanging in those woods alone."
Her mouth bobbed open and closed, but Joan could speak no words. The woman in front of her looked just like her dad's mom but from, like, 30 years ago! 
"O-oh, what the fuck." Joan whispered in horror, taking a step back and looking at her grandma stare at her in concern. "T-this is really trippy."
"Joan Henderson, are you high right now?!"
"Woah, Joan's high? I want to see, I want to see!" Out from behind Joan's grandma pushed out a face that Joan had only seen in pictures. A chubby face and curly hair that she was always envious of and mischievous eyes that never changed throughout the decades...
"Dad?!"
There was a silence at the exclamation and the two familiar yet unfamiliar Henderson's stared wide eyed at the teen girl as if she had sprouted wings ands started flying. Dustin, her dad, broke first as a wide grin filled his face and he pointed over at the girl.
"Holy shit, you're high as a fucking kite, Jo'!"
"What the fuck, no I'm not!"
"Uh, yeah the fuck you are!"
"Dustin Joseph Henderson and Joan Agatha Henderson!" The matriarch screeched out, appalled at the language and behavior from the two teens. Both of them flinched at the sound and looked back at the woman apologetically.
"S-sorry, mom."
"Sorry, uh-?" Joan trailed off, unsure what to say because there was no way in hell this was her dad... at least not yet, right? What the fuck was going on?!
"You two... I swear..." Mrs. Henderson huffed angrily, pointing inside with a manicure finger and glaring at both teens harshly. "Inside, both of you. Dinner is ready and the table is set..." 
Joan followed Dustin inside hesitantly, quickly catching up to her dad(?) who nudged her as soon as they were inside and away from the woman. She frowned down at the mischievous grin, not sure what he was up to. What was she supposed to call him?! "What... do you want?"
"Was it weed?"
"What?"
"Did you smoke weed?" Dustin asked again, this time finishing his sentence by grabbing a fistful of the girl's cardigan and pulling it to his nose with a rather aggressive sniff. He frowned, looking at the fabric in confusion. "You don't smell like weed..." He went in for another sniff, but the fabric was ripped from his grip by a scowling Joan.
"Jesus- stop that!" Joan hissed out, pushing her -whoever the fuck he was- away from her. Whoever this kid was to her... he was not her dad and she didn't care if it was the Queen as a kid... all kids were little shits. "What grade are you in again, third?!"
"Eighth, actually." Dustin responded matter-of-factly with a little lisp, unbothered by the act of aggression and rolling his eyes at the question. Joan nodded, storing the information in her head for later while wiping her nose with her sleeve.
Dustin frowned, stopping in front of his usual chair at the table and staring over at Joan with narrowed eyes, examining her with a wickedly familiar gaze that she'd get whenever her dad was deep in thought, before gasping in horror.
"What?! Is there a spider or something?!"
"Cocaine!"
"What?!" Joan cried out in shock, pausing her search to stare across the table incredulously at the little shit that would one day be her dad. "Cocaine?!"
"Oh sweet Jesus, my sisters a drug addict." Dustin's eyes were still wide, but his voice was even as he grabbed his head and shook it in disbelief. "I shouldn't be shocked, but I am. Why am I shocked?"
"Why are you-?! Shouldn't be shocked? Sister-?!" Joan's brain whirled around quickly, the new information almost overwhelming her as the word sister bounced around in here mind and she stared at her brother? Dad didn't have a sister... right? "Hold on.. drug addict?!"
"And she's still denying that she has a problem... this is an absolute tragedy equivalent to Hamlet."
"Hold on, pause, back it up... what did you just say?"
Dustin cleared his throat and raised his voice, slowing his words down to a point where Joan's eye twitched in annoyance. "You... are... sad... like... Hamlet... which is a play about-."
"Yes, I know what Hamlet is about!"
"Brevity is the soul of wit." Dustin responded with a shrug of his shoulders and Joan scowled, her fist clenching in anger. 
"Did you just call me stupid?! From a Shakespeare play?!"
"No, I said-"
"Enough you two." Their mother snapped as she joined the table and patted the wooden surface. Both teens immediately shut their mouths and looked at each other, slowly taking their seats and silently passed the food around.
Joan stole glances at her... brother-dad? she winced at the title, trying to rid herself of the thought as a distant tune of Sweet Home Alabama played in her mind. God, what did Kaleigh do to her? She paused her scooping of carrots in horror as she thought about the fate of the others that were with her. 
Did they escape? Were they here with her? Were her children okay?!
"Joan!" Joan jolted up in her seat at the call of her name, snapping over with wide eyes to look at her suspicious, yet worried mother staring at her. "Are you going to pass the carrots or continue staring at them like they're going to jump out at you and eat your face?"
The teen swallowed thickly and passed the carrots in response, her mother's frown deepening and her eyes narrowing. "Are you sure you're not under the influence, Joan because I swear-!"
"She hath more hair than wit." Dustin snickered under his breathe as he scooped a spoonful of food into his mouth and stared over at his sister with dancing eyes. His joy didn't last for too long as a kick to his legs caused him to wince and let out a painful, "Oh, shit!"
"I'll beat thee, but I would infect my hands." Joan hissed out, causing Dustin to look over at his sister with a snarky grin. 
"I told you you were a nerd too!"
A nerd, too?! 
"What does that mean, you twerp?!"
Dustin waved his hands in the air mockingly, his voice going up a horrendous amount of octaves to imitate Joan's voice. "Oh look at me, I'm Joan Henderson. I'm a cheerleader and I'm too cool to do D anymore. Instead I wave pompoms and pretend like I don't have Lord of the Rings quotes all over my walls. And apparently do drugs! Bleh bleh."
"I'm not a vampire you dork." Joan snorted, even though the imitation was supposed to be an insult, it was hilarious to watch a young version of her dad pretend to be a cheerleader. Plus, it gave her much need information about who his sister was... who she was? "What was the bleh bleh for?"
"You know, when you guys have the dumb shaky things and go bleh bleh before you guys turn into violent monsters, and suck the life and fun out of everyone."
"That's kind of... violent."
"Well, cheerleaders are a different species."
Joan's head shot back as she let out a huge laugh, thinking about what Brynnyn would say to that comment. The brunette agree full heartedly, but the raven-haired girl would have shot out of her seat to passionately rant about the sport of cheerleading.
"Alright you two, settle down and finish your dinner." Their mother rolled her eyes fondly, enjoying the light atmosphere with a smile on her face. "Joan, honey, would you make sure to get a new bag of cat food from the garage?"
"Why can't Dustin do it?" Because I have no idea where it would be!
"Because its Dusty's turn to do dishes."
"Oh, come on!" Dustin wined loudly, hitting his head on the table in disappointment. The boy was quickly reprimanded and then the dinner table was relatively calm and relaxed while Joan tried not let herself freak out on the outside as much as was on the inside. 
Each question she asked was crafted to get as much information out as possible, disguised as lightly versed insults, concerned daughter, and/or genuinely curious. It was hard, so when Joan made it to the garage alone with the door shut, she lifted a hand over her pounding heart and swallowed thickly. 
"To recap." She started slowly while pacing behind her mother's car in tune with the racing thump thump thump inside her chest. "I am Joan Agatha Henderson. Not Joan Destiny Henderson. My brother is now my dad and is significantly younger... my mother is my grandmother. I've travelled in time somehow to Hawkins in the 80's back when all that shit went down."
A pause. Joan's face went white at another terrible feeling.
Her dad never mentioned a sister. Her grandmother never mentioned a daughter. Joan was named Joan after someone significant in her dad's childhood, but that was all the information she was given to the point she was almost positive she was named after Joan Jett. 
Worst of all she was a cheerleader, a species she was unfamiliar with besides her interactions with Brynnyn who if it wasn't for her talents would probably not be on the team for social reasons alone. 
"I'm going crazy." Joan decided with a nod, looking over the shelves for the cat food. "I fell asleep drink chocolate milk again. There's no way I'm actually here in the 80's with my dad for a brother and possibly possessing a body that isn't mine."
The nail in the coffin was the moment Joan stepped into her bedroom she was going to be sick. The walls were a Pepto Bismal disaster with posters of artists she didn't know and Polaroids of people that she didn't recognize. Glancing over at the only familiar decorations being the aforementioned book quotes, she walked over to her desk to see if there were any more clues on who Joan Agatha Henderson was. Swallowing thickly, Joan grabbed a lose Polaroid on her desk and stared at the cheek-kissed individual, her stomach dropped and eyes widened comically at the image. 
Oh my God, was that her and Uncle Steve?!
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murdrdocs · 4 months
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WHERE YOU ARE. luke castellan
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description. almost a year after you and luke breakup, you find yourself in his embrace once more to scratch an itch you can't reach yourself.
includes. SMUT 18+, exes hooking up, fem!coded reader, unprotected p n v, outdoor sex, both r and luke have major attitudes, r is claimed but not specified, a little angsty (they're exes cmon what did u expect), takes place during tlt but no major plot points mentioned; title and inspiration from sunshine by steve lacy
wc: 4.2k+
a/n: as mr steve lacy said, "still will give you dick anytime you need!". ao3 link
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There is an itch you can’t scratch.
It’s been there for almost exactly a year, persistent and reminding you of what you’ve been lacking since last summer. You’ve attended to it time and time again, digging into it with all of your might, only to be left semi-satisfied. Never left with lazy eyes, relaxed limbs, and a far away want to do it all over again once you recovered. 
The blame for your lack of satisfaction is placed on your chosen partners. 
Humans, all either far too eager to please or not eager enough. Either too cocky and overconfident, or lacking any and all confidence at all. 
They got between your legs, did the job, but never well enough. They never did it like he did. 
And for the past year, specifically the past few months, you’ve been trying to ignore it. Day by day, when you were forced to coexist with your ex, you attempted to push the feeling to the side. You instead focused on the heat on your skin and the gravity pushing large droplets of uncomfortable sticky sweat down your body, ignoring the way sweat made his skin shine. You buried yourself in work, taking up chores offhandedly mentioned by Mr. D, especially if they would get you away from group settings. 
But then, in the solitude of mindless duties, you had nothing to do except think about Luke Castellan. 
His dark curly hair. His even darker eyes. The way his rounded face had become more chiseled since last summer. The sound of his laughter and the smell of his shampoo. The feeling of his hands on your hips and your waist and your ass and especially between your thighs. 
At the end of the night, you would always fall back and spend a little extra time in the showers, bringing yourself to orgasm after orgasm with hopes that eventually one would give even half of the amount of satisfaction a single orgasm from Luke would. 
Clearly, with the way you’re watching him from across the dining hall with wide eyes, it hasn’t been working. 
“You’re staring.” The pointed voice of your sister next to you breaks you out of your stupor. 
You’re quick to avert your eyes to your plate instead, finding that your food had been picked over, conformed from its original shape and placed in a few different spots so your plate appears as if it’s overflowing instead of losing its contents. 
You don’t bother saying anything in response, instead shoveling a fork full of brisket into your mouth. 
“Just two more days. You can last until then,” she reassures you. 
You’re not sure if you could. 
Only a few minutes later were you sliding almost all of your food into the fire, completely ignoring the rumbling in your stomach. 
Please. 
The rest of your brisket glides into the fire. 
Just give me one more time. 
Your cheese and bread join it. 
That’s all I ask for. 
In goes the fruit and then your plate is empty. 
Someone steps up beside you and you’re about to leave anyway, so you pay them no mind. Not until they speak to you. 
“Hey.” 
Gods, it’s almost pathetic how the simple greeting makes you feel. 
Suddenly, the waving flames of the fire in front of you is the most interesting thing you’ve ever seen. 
“Hey.” 
“What’d you give up?”
Has his voice always sounded like that? Suddenly it’s … deeper. Granted, the last time you spoke to him alone was a year ago. Both of you have matured since then, but in some ways you’re still stuck in your old nature. 
“Fruit. Bread. Brisket. The usual.” 
Even though the conversation is extremely lackluster, you find yourself wanting it to continue. You want to speak to him more. 
Luke hums and it’s only then that you look at him. 
He’s turned to face you now, holding an empty plate in his hand and you wonder: when had he given his offering up? Surely you should have seen it since the fire was all you could focus on during the last minute. Really, you just weren’t taking in any information at all save for the addicting sound of Luke’s voice. 
“And what did you ask for?” His eyebrows lift, his tongue darts out to glide over his lips for a split second. A brief memory of how nice it’d been to kiss him comes back before you can prevent it.  
“You know I can’t tell you that.” You take a step closer to him as you easily fall into this old routine. Tease and tease and throw in a flirtatious tone to beat around the large bush that held a ‘please fuck me’ sign. 
“Telling you my prayer is like telling you my birthday wish.” 
Luke tilts his head, letting his eyes wander to the side for a second before finding you again. The fire reflects in them, adding a warmth to his eyes you haven’t seen all summer. 
He’d been off the past few months, holding a tension in his shoulders and having a clipped-ness to his voice at times. You might be imagining things when you feel as if he’s different—good different—with you. 
“Which you used to do all the time.” 
You shrug. “It was always things you could do for me. I just wanted my wishes to come true.” 
“Oh yeah, like do your chores. All that time I spent scrubbing the bathroom floors for you.” 
A grin finds your lips. “It was a good lesson in responsibility. Right, Luke?” 
When he rolls his eyes, you notice how there’s no malice behind the action. It’s almost too easy for both of you to fall back into your old pattern. 
“Yeah. Sure.” He takes a small step closer to you and if you weren’t so in tune with every detail about him, you wouldn’t have noticed it. “So you gonna tell me what you asked for or not?” 
There’s no point in him knowing, other than to intrude on your life. Unfortunately, you don’t mind the intrusion. 
You stare at him a little while longer, your eyes flickering back and forth between his. Every so often, you let your gaze fall to his lips, only to bring it back up to his eyes like nothing ever happened. 
For a second, you pretend to think about it, falsely balancing his proposal before deciding. 
“I’m good. See you around, Luke.” 
When you return to your table and sit next to your sister, she has the kindness to not say anything about your prolonged absence for only a few moments. 
Then, “Am I covering for you?” 
You delude yourself into believing she won’t have to for a few seconds. And then you catch Luke’s eye from across the dining hall and you sigh.
“Yeah.” 
“Knew you weren’t over me.” 
You stop walking at his words, shoes thudding against the grass. The thunderous roar of the waterfall covers any other possible sound you could’ve created, but Luke never needed to hear you to know when you were approaching. It was a weird intuition thing you never understood.  
“Hello to you too, Luke.”
He turns around to face you, and as expected, he’s wearing a smirk. His arms are crossed over his chest, he’s no longer sporting his camp tee, having replaced the bright orange material with a deep blue hoodie instead. Practically everything about him screams relaxed, his gray sweatpants adding to the ambience that his aura creates—one that says he knew you were going to meet him tonight. 
“We’re way past formal greetings at this point, don’t you think?” He turns back to face the waterfall in front of him when you join his side. “You never used to greet me before.”
“Things change.”
“Yet you’re still out here. That could only be for one reason.” 
You shrug, folding your own arms over your chest. You have nothing to do with your hands yet, and you’ve been flexing them impatiently with anticipation. 
“Maybe I wanted to stargaze. Who knows.” 
Luke doesn’t say anything. 
In your peripheral vision, you can see him staring up at the sky, presumably stargazing like you falsely claimed you were doing. You try to do the same, picking out a few easily recognizable constellations you knew. But it’s only a minute later that you’re caving. 
“Okay.” 
You turn to face Luke. 
He does the same. 
He’s brought a lantern out here and it sits on the ground in front of you both, bright enough to illuminate the side of his face with an orange-yellow glow. 
“Okay?” he asks for clarification. 
Your teeth gnaw on your bottom lip for a second as you mull over your words. After tonight, there’s only one more night of camp left, and then you won’t be seeing Luke for another year. There’s almost no repercussions for laying it all out now, dropping your poorly built guard to get what you’ve been craving for a year now. 
“I’m not out here to fucking stargaze.” You sound exasperated as you admit it. 
Luke paints a picture of faux shock on his face. He gasps, splaying a hand out over his chest as his eyes widen. “Really? I never would’ve guessed.” 
Really, his attitude is starting to get on your nerves. 
Your temper flares and you suddenly understand the rage and frustration Clarisse always inhabits. 
“Don’t be a dick.” You try to manifest the negative feelings taking over your mind when you speak, but your tone betrays you. The command comes out too soft to change anything. Too gentle to be real. 
“Thought you liked it when I was a dick?” 
Something you’d told him in confidence last year. Confidence and drunken delusion. The shameless way you were grabbing at his clothes at the time clearly showed your inebriation. 
“Gods, Luke, would you just stop talking and kiss me already?” You take the step closer to him, finally entering his space to get what you want. What you’ve literally been dreaming about for the past year. 
He stops for a second, his eyes flitting to your lips once, twice, and just when you think he’s about to kiss you, his lips part for a different reason. 
“You also liked it when I ta–” 
You do it yourself. 
You expect him to hesitate before giving in, but his response is quick. 
Hands at your hips pulling you closer to him. His head tilting to the side so he can deepen the kiss just enough. His tongue wastes no time entering your mouth, pressing against your own tongue which allows you to taste the slightly off flavor of the root beer he’d had earlier in the night. 
Just like everything else had gone tonight, you two found the rhythm easily. 
You let Luke lead, pressing your chest into his, arching your back when his palm rests right above your ass. 
He kisses you like he wants more, a little over eager as the tip of his nose presses into your cheek with a little too much pressure. And he could take more, you’re offering it to him with the way your hands slide under his sweatshirt and press against his bare abdomen, fingers tracing his abdominal muscles. Luke just refuses to take it. He refuses to go the extra step. 
You huff against his lips, eyebrows furrowing in vexation. 
Luke pulls back from you first. He stares down at you, unmoving, not saying anything and when your brain is clouded like this, you don’t have it in you to try and decipher the storm in his dark eyes. 
When your brain is clouded like this, all you can think to do is speak.
“And for what it’s worth, I’m over you. I’m just not over…” you trail off, not really feeling like a conclusion is necessary to communicate exactly what you’re missing. 
Luke’s laugh is more like a sharp inhale. He cups your cheek with one hand. “And that’s a part of me, angel.” The pet name sounds almost villainous coming from his lips now. It’s too heavily dipped in confidence, dripping with sour arrogance. 
If you weren’t so horny, you would be turned off at the sound of it. At least, that’s what you convince yourself. But there’s very little that Luke could do to turn you off. 
Instead of dwelling on it, you lean back up and press your lips to Luke’s again. 
This time, Luke kisses you how you expected. 
He’s rough, lacking politeness and a little bit of coordination. His hands grip at your ass, pinching the fabric of your pajama bottoms and the fabric of your panties between them. There’s lots of tongue and even more spit, a few moments where your teeth knock into each other’s.
Now that he’s participating how you want him to, there’s not much anticipation. 
Your long sleeve tee is thrown over your head and placed at your feet, the same treatment goes for Luke’s sweatshirt. Your hands glide along each other’s bodies yearningly. You can’t help but start to feel satisfied with what you’re getting, even though it’s close to nothing. 
You’d been wanting to even be in Luke’s vicinity with intentions other than solely platonic—almost professionally—for so long now, so just feeling the weighted heat of his hands on your bare skin is enough to make you sigh. 
It doesn’t take long for both of you to end up on the ground, and after a small dispute about who gets to be on top, you end up on your hands and knees, hips wiggling impatiently as you wait for Luke to make the final move. The one to start the end of the beginning. 
There’s a few prolonged moments where nothing happens. You’re trying to be patient, busying yourself with chewing on your bottom lip and listening to the soothing sounds of water falling, but you’ve been so empty for so long and you really don’t think you can last any longer. 
You look over your shoulder to see Luke sitting on his haunches behind you. Just staring. 
He seems to be stuck in a trance, and just when you start to get a little insecure, Luke spits into his hand and runs his fingers down your cunt, reaching back up to probe two fingers into your entrance to the first knuckle. 
It’s slightly too much of a stretch all at once, and you wince a little, fingers gripping the strands of grass beneath you. 
You think you hear a small apology from him but you can’t tell. Either way, he corrects himself and slowly sinks one finger into your cunt. Already, you’re letting out a drawn out sigh. It comes out more guttural than intended, as if Luke pulled it directly from deep within you as he draws his finger back out, only to plunge it back in. 
His fingers scratch along places you haven’t been able to reach on your own. The tip of his digit strokes along a spot you’d been searching for for months, only having found twice on your own. (Both occurrences can be attributed to pure luck … and sheer desperation)
You don’t have to ask for more. Luke pulls the singular digit out and when he pushes back in, you feel the same stretch from before. This time, it’s more expected. 
You know to let yourself relax to allow him to continue. 
He enters you easily, and he starts to set a pace that hints at his intentions. He isn’t fingering you to prep you anymore, at least that’s not what it feels like he’s doing. His fingers are caressing parts that he only reaches when he wants you to cum. His pace isn’t one of careful leisure. Instead it’s goal searching. 
“Luke,” you start without even knowing if there’s a finish intended. 
He hums distractedly. 
“Fuck me. Please.” 
You aren’t above begging at this point. It’s all a means to an end for you. 
But you don’t know if it’s the same for Luke. 
His free hand comes to your ass and he caresses the flesh in a surprisingly tender way. You watch him lean up, and you watch him pepper kisses along your lower back. 
“I’ll get there, angel, promise.” 
And it suddenly occurs to you that Luke is taking his time with you. He’s savoring it all. 
For a second, the carnal desire melts away to reveal something more raw. The urge you used to feel to just talk to him first thing in the morning and last thing at night. The way your insides would flutter when he smiled, or the way everything seemed a little darker when he was down. 
Every emotion you’ve been working to get over for the past few months comes back tenfold in this small moment. 
And then Luke hooks his fingers and you’re brought back to the more debauched side of your circumstances. 
His pace speeds up a little. He introduces his other hand along your clit, singling out two fingers and rubbing wide and slow circles around the bud. 
During your nostalgia filled moment, your body had gotten closer to orgasm. Luke only has to pump his digits a few more times and tighten the circles just enough and you’re digging your hands into the dirt, pushing your hips back into his touch, and arching your back as your muscles tense up and you announce your orgasm, only to let go a few moments later. 
It’s a little more than pathetic how hard you cum. But you haven’t felt the touch from someone other than yourself in a long time. And you haven’t felt the touch of someone adequate enough to satisfyingly please you in an even longer time. 
Your hips twitch back and forth, the muscles in your thighs tense until you ache to relax them, only to repeat the action as waves cascade through your body. Luke is there through it all, slowly pumping his fingers in and out of you as he coos gentle words from behind you. 
Your head hands low between your shoulders, but you still hear him coaxing you through it. 
“That’s it … just let it happen. ‘S it’s a big one. You really did miss me, hm?” 
He still sounds smug, but it comes off more affectionately this time. At least, a little less annoyingly. 
You’ve barely let yourself calm down from your orgasm before you’re reaching between your thighs blindly, swatting Luke’s hands away and searching for something else entirely. 
He chuckles, mumbles something under his breath that is definitely snarky, and you’re immediately swearing. 
“Luke, I swear to the fucking Gods, if you don’t fuck me right now I’ll..” 
It’s embarrassing how the meeting of his head and your entrance instantly shuts you up. It’s like a pacifier nestling between your lips, not fully settling into your cavern without a few teasing strokes up and down the plane of your cunt first. 
But the teasing makes it all so much more worth it. Just the first inch makes your eyes roll back. 
It’s so familiar, but in a slightly foreign way. You haven’t had it in so long, but you remember everything you loved about it. 
The way his head stretches you out first, and then comes the rest of him, only a few moments of reprieve before you get to the thickest part of him. The way his fingers press into your skin as he sinks in, exercising as much restraint as he could. The way his tip parts you open, scratching parts of you that have been itching for a while now. 
He’s bare within you, and if you hone in your senses enough you can feel everything. Every ridge and mountain plane and every vein. The way he’s warm and heavy within you, filling you so well you don’t know how you’ve been empty this long. 
It’s like an insatiable hunger has finally been filled. 
You don’t know how you’ll ever go back to being without this. Without Luke. 
By the time Luke has bottomed out, you’re already attempting to fuck yourself back on him. Luke takes over quick enough, digging his hands into the fat at your hips as he drives into you. 
You can feel your ass rippling with each thrust, and you think there’s clapping, too. 
Luke is harsh with it, any tender moments you two had during the night are gone, replaced with fierce thrusts, his cock pistoning in and out of you with an intensity that tells you he wants to cum as badly as you do. 
You have the sudden urge to see his face, to watch his eyebrows pinch together as he cums. You look over your shoulder once more, and sure enough his thick eyebrows are pushed together. His lips glisten in the ambient lighting, pink and plump and parted as he focuses. His eyes don’t leave your ass, trained on where the two of you connect. 
Only a few moments later does he notice you’re watching him, and he casts a look up to meet your eyes. His expression doesn’t change, still as concentrated as it was before. 
Then he tells you, “turn over”. 
You’re quick to comply, barely even having to mourn the brief emptiness before you’re on your back (on the ground but it doesn’t matter at this point) with your legs spread, Luke quickly entering you and resuming his pace. 
He leans down, holding your thigh for leverage with one hand and holding himself up beside your head with the other. His forehead rests against yours, his eyes close and yours do too. 
“‘M close,” he tells you. 
Your hand slinks up to dig into his curls, and like this, you’re allowed to reminisce once more. 
Not one specific memory finds you, but the position is so well known. It’s so intimate, only becoming more so whenever Luke presses his lips to yours. 
It doesn’t cross your mind to tell Luke to pull out. But you don’t want him to. 
You need to feel him, all of him, just one more time. 
So when Luke spills warm cum inside of you, it’s the highest form of pleasure. 
He fucks it into you a little more, a few punctuated thrusts ensuring none of him leaks out, and then the hand on your hip comes between your thighs again. He pulls out, waits, and when you feel something trickle out of you he catches it with two fingers and drags it up to your bud. 
“Can you cum for me one more time?” he asks, voice sweet and gentle. 
Even if you couldn’t, if you were physically unable to, you would still give it a try if he talked to you like that. 
You nod, keeping your eyes pinched shut and licking over your now unoccupied lips. 
“Look at me,” Luke commands. “I wanna see you.” 
Your eyes peel open. You stare up at Luke. And with two more flicks, you cum. 
“Heard you’ve been calling me your ex.” 
You shrug as you pull your bottoms over your hips. Your shirt is already on, but you shake it out a little, trying to get rid of dirt remains that somehow found their way into it. 
“Yeah. That’s what you are.” 
Luke pulls his sweatshirt back over his head before responding. “We both know I’m more than that.” 
“You were more than that. Things change, Luke.” 
When he meets your eyes, there’s something in his gaze. Maybe remorse? 
He licks his lips, shrugs. “They don’t have to. We could go back to how things were before.” 
It’s such a tempting proposition, one you laid with for weeks. Watching the sun set and then watching it rise all in one wake, wondering where things went wrong, trying to fix them in your head so you could get it all back. You treated your breakup with Luke like a mission gone wrong, and that’s where you went wrong. 
You shake your head a little and start to walk away. 
“Goodnight, Luke.” 
His hand catches you around the wrist. He stares down at you, gaze hard and serious. 
“Hey, anytime you need that. Anytime you need me to give you that, you come find me. Okay?” 
Satisfaction flares in your chest as you nod. 
By the time the sun has made itself comfortable in the sky, you’re the last one out of bed. 
You shower quickly, paying extra attention to your knees to scrub the remnants of dirt off of them, and then you’re at the dining hall for breakfast, sliding up next to your sister with striking bags under your eyes and an alluring glow added to your aura. 
She doesn’t say anything for a while and neither do you. Both of you tend to your hunger, slowly setting food into your mouth and savoring the sweetness of the strawberry pancakes. 
Only when nothing is left on your plates but your offerings does she speak. 
“Covering for you tonight again?”
You don’t hesitate at all when you say, “Yep.” 
“You owe me.” She’s trying to come off a little demanding, maybe a little mean. But she looks a little amused. Maybe even happy for you. 
Your eyes leave hers to look across the dining hall, finding Luke already looking at you. 
When you grin in response, sickly sweet and triumphant, you don’t know if it’s towards her or Luke. 
Either way, your reply is the same. 
“I love you.” 
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luveline · 6 months
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kisses before dinner —the harrington family gets ready for a dinner party. mom!reader, 3k
"...and I told mommy she needed my help but your mom doesn't like listening to me anymore," Steve says, eyebrows pulled together, "because of that one time I told her the side of the refrigerator was supposed to feel warm and it broke. But I'm usually right."
Wren blinks at him dopily where she lies in the dip of his thighs. Steve has his knees up, back flat on the couch and head propped by a pink fluffy heart pillow from Bethie's bed to speak to her face to face. 
"I promise you'll understand when you're older. I'm a genius." He strokes her little forehead. Steve's youngest daughter is too baby to look like anybody, but he's starting to think she looks like him anyway. "And now mom has to run the washing machine again when we were already super duper busy." 
"Shut up!" you yell from the kitchen. 
Bethie giggles from the same place, seemingly, raising her voice to join in, "Yeah, daddy! Shut up!" 
"That's so not nice." Steve shakes his head at Wren in dramatic disbelief. She smiles at him. "Isn't that mean? Don't you think that's sick?" 
"You're being a know-it-all again!" you continue. "And we'd be less busy if you were helping me!" 
"I'm sick of helping," Steve says conversationally. "I help all day long." 
Wren gurgles and lifts one of her hands toward him. Steve holds it in his, rubbing at her palm with a gentle thumb. She totally gets what he's saying, agrees with him no doubt, breathing out heavily as Steve gives her hand a wave up and down. 
"Steve," you say, dropping the angry act to pull him in, "please, sweetheart, I really do need your help."
"How am I supposed to say no to that?" Steve whispers. "Does she guilt trip you that way?" 
Wren doesn't giggle, but the breathy, happy sound she makes as he crunches forward to kiss her forehead is close enough to make Steve laugh himself. He moves her carefully into the curve of his arm and stands, wishing he could stretch, exhausted by another long week but undeniably happy. "Let's go see what they want," he murmurs to Wren. 
You and Bethie are in the kitchen by the stove. She's wearing oven mitts too big for her, and you're crouched behind her offering steady instructions. "Don't touch the sides, my love. Only the baking tray. If it feels warm and you're not happy, tell me, and I'll take it straight away." You wear your own oven gloves.
"I can do it," Beth insists, squaring her features. 
Beth takes the baking tray and its cookies into her hands, walking with short steps to the counter, where she slides the tray up high. You lean over her to make sure it's settled before closing the oven and dashing a kiss into her cheek. "Well done, gorgeous girl," you say, scratching lightly at her shoulder as she preens under the praise. "One day you'll be making cookies all by yourself."
"But not for a while?" she asks, startled. 
You kiss her again. "Not for a long, long time." 
"Did you need my help or my approval?" Steve asks, his hand making a small thump with each pat he taps into Wren's back. "A taste tester, right?" 
"I need you to find your other daughters. I have no idea where they are," you say with a rueful smile. 
"Okay." Steve has carried babies. He's carried them for years, tiny ones and ones too big to need it, carried nonetheless. But something about Wren in all her newness makes him nervous. He hates carrying her up and down the stairs, too aware of the times he's missed a step or tripped up. "Can you take her?" 
"Yes!" Bethie says, running to her unofficial chair at the dining table and holding out her mitted arms as she sits. 
You nod at him and take the seat next to her. Steve hands Wren over into her sister's waiting hold, more than confident you're still there to take over if things get overwhelming. Wren looks comically large in Bethie's lap. 
"I have her, dad." Beth leans down to touch her nose to Wren's. "Hi, Wren. Hello, hello," she says softly.
Steve gives your cheek a swift but loving stroke and leaves in search of the other kids. He can hear Dove in her room talking to herself in make believe, but Avery, the oldest, isn't with her, nor is she in her bedroom. Steve knocks on the bathroom door. 
"Are you in there, Ave?" 
No answer. Steve raises his voice. "I'm coming in." 
He peeks inside slowly but she's not there. Eyebrows raised, Steve asks, "Avery, where are you?" Nothing. "Avery Harrington, don't make me worry! Please." 
He lets his head drift to one side, listening for an answer. Avery rarely gets told off and she hates it; she'd jump to tell him where she was if she were up here. 
Or so he thinks. Just as he's taking the stairs again to look for her someplace he must have missed, he hears sniffling coming from the master bedroom. 
Idiot, he thinks, relief taking tight hold. He doesn't like not knowing where the girls are. He should've checked your room to begin with. 
"Ave?" he says, opening his bedroom door. "You in here?" 
"I'm here, dad," she says, peering up from the space between the top of the bed and his nightstand, kneeling on the carpeted floor. 
"What are you doing down there? We gotta get ready for Aunt Robin's party." 
Her cheeks shine in the slice of light from the open door. Steve closes it behind him and flicks on the big light, rounding the end of the bed to help her up. He hooks his hands under her arms and pulls her into his chest, bed springs creaking as their joined weight lands. 
"Why are you crying?" he asks, cuddling her to his front. "What's wrong? Why didn't you come and find me? You can't stay here crying all by yourself, that's not cool. How am I supposed to make it better if I don't know what's wrong?" 
"Dove bit me." 
Steve gasps. "Again?" 
"On my hand, dad." She holds up her wrist. "It hurts." 
He presses his cheek to the top of her head, taking her arm tenderly to analyse the bite. It's a nasty thing, not bleeding but cruel and stark. "I'm sorry," he says. 
"You said I can't be mean–" 
"No, you can't–" 
"But it was really mean." 
"I know," he murmurs, "but I just don't… we can't be mean to Dove when she bites because she doesn't know it's wrong, okay? She doesn't remember. She knows it's the wrong thing to do, but by the time I tell her she doesn't know what she did." What Steve means is that the first time Dove bit Avery, Avery reacted on impulse and slapped her sister in the stomach. There isn't a bridge yet to connect to Dove why she might have received such a thing (though Steve teaches all the girls that hitting is never okay no matter what), so Dove just thought she was being hit. It was a very tense half hour of tears. 
Steve rubs Avery's back as she starts to cry in earnest. "I will tell her not to bite you, honey. I swear, I won't let her be mean to you. I'll tell her until she understands." 
He's been trying to teach Dove not to bite, but saying 'no' doesn't seem to do anything. Positive incentives don't last, and taking her toys wouldn't make much sense, because again, she doesn't get it. 
"You know," Steve says, wiping her cheeks tenderly, "I'll tell her again and again and again until she stops, and it'll work, because it worked with you." 
"What?" 
"You used to bite me sometimes, but you used to bite mom all the time." 
Avery looks at him in horror. "I did?" 
He puts her down onto her feet and takes her hand. He'd like to tell her this story while sitting down, but Robin's house beckons and time is running short. "Mom would come home from work and you'd be very happy to see her, but she would ask you what you did today and where we went and you'd bite her." 
He peeks into Dove's room and finds her missing. Downstairs, you say, "No! No, no, babe!" and he assumes she's been found. 
"Why would I do that?" 
Steve holds her hand buoyed between them as he descends the stairs. "We decided it was because you missed her. When your Dove's age you don't know how to say that. You don't even know what that is. I'm a thousand years old and I don't even know what I'm feeling half the time. So mom stopped hugging you after work for a bit until you calmed down." 
"But I don't go to work, dad. Why did Dove bite me?" 
"What were you doing?" 
"We were playing with Mr Scruffles and the care bears and she just bit me for no reason!" 
Steve stops at the bottom of the stairs. "Were you being a bossy boots?" 
Avery glares at him. "I just told her to stop taking Funshine bear." 
"Well," Steve says, smiling at her in apology, "maybe, next time, you can come and tell me, and then I'll tell her to stop taking Funshine bear, and then when she wants to bite someone she bites me instead of you. That could work, yeah?" He would much prefer it. 
Steve takes Avery to the kitchen, where you've transferred Wren into her bassinet while Bethie eats a cookie, her cheeks messy with chocolate, and Dove languishes in your arms, small hands touching your hair curiously. 
"Dove, will you look at this?" he asks, showing her Avery's bite mark. "You see that, honey? That's what you did when you bit your sister. We don't bite."
You gasp. "No!" you say, stern but far from cruel. "We don't bite. We only bite when we want to eat something." 
Dove frowns. 
"When you bite," Steve says, trying to appeal to her smarts. It'll stick eventually. "You give Avery an owie. That's why we can't bite, okay?" 
Dove can tell she's being chided even if she doesn't totally get why. "No," she says unhappily. 
"Can you say sorry to Avery?" you ask, reassuring her with a gentle squeeze. "Say, I'm sorry, Avery." 
"Sorry, Ave'y," she mumbles. 
Avery can't glare for long. She doesn't hold a grudge, not like her dad. "It's okay. You didn't mean to." 
You beam at Avery like she's hung the moon. "You're so nice, my big girl. Can I have a look at your wrist? Did that hurt?" 
Her mother's concern draws fresh tears. You swap children, and Dove quickly forgets what happened as Avery cries in little sniffles on the countertop. Steve brims with a familiar brand of pride as you comfort her, kissing and offering treats to help her feel better. I picked the right one might be applicable, only Steve didn't choose you so much as he happened upon you one day like a miracle, and then begged to keep you. Luckily for him, you've always been very agreeable on that front. 
(As in, you love him more than can be said in any one language.) 
"What are you upto?" Steve asks Bethie.
She shows him her food-covered hands. He nods like this is awesome, but in reality chocolate stains her t-shirt and she's going to have to change before they leave. Dove rams herself against his leg and looks up with her eyes widened. 
"What?" he asks. 
"Um…" 
"What do you want?" he asks, softer. She starts to frown again. Steve bends. "Drink? Crackers?" No dice. "What about some pear slices?" 
Dove loves pears more than anything, the sticky, sugary sliced kind from the can. Her frown disappears and she walks off, thankful to be understood. Steve's just grateful he wasn't bitten.
"What else did you need?" Steve asks, winding around you where you're cleaning Avery's cheeks. A damp washcloth drips down your arm.
"More time. Have any?" 
"Wren's bag is done, bottles done, Bethie's dinner." He whispers the last part. Bethie is a picky eater and she grows pickier with time, and Robin knows this, but she's not a parent (as sweet and caring as she might be for the girls). Only something you or Steve have made is something Bethie will deign to eat, and she's insecure about it despite having no reason to be. "Beth needs a new top. Your blouse needs to go in the dryer, and I can't find my nice pants. Avery?" 
"I don't need anything." 
"You sure? You have Mr Scruffles?" 
She wraps her arms around your neck. "Just want a hug." 
"Then I guess I'm busy while daddy does all my chores," you tease Steve lightly, your touch similarly soft where it tracks up and down Avery's arm. "I'm sorry Dove bit you again. It's not fair. Not fair at all. Maybe we should only have you playing downstairs until me and dad figure it out, okay? I don't want her to keep taking bits of you." 
Steve clears the checklist. Not to brag or anything, but he's a pro. You both are. Life is hectic as always and you knew getting out the door would be a process, so you planned accordingly, and you arrive at Robin's with time to spare, though Dove smells strongly of sugary pears and Bethie's new shirt has fingerprints on the back. 
"Hi, crew!" Robin greets. "It's my favourite Harringtons!" 
"We're your only Harringtons." 
"That's not true, I went to college with a Harrington." Robin ushers the girls inside. They want one thing and one thing alone —hugs. Dove is the most insistent, dropping your hand to offer Robin her arms. She picks the small girl up and smiles at her with a monumental amount of love. Robin doesn't have favourites but Dove demands it, sometimes. Avery says, "Hello, Aunt Robin," and hugs her stomach, while Bethie puts her arm behind Avery and hugs them both. 
Steve's arm shakes. "Any chance I can get through? This is a really heavy baby." 
"Hi," Robin says, ignoring him without guilt. "You guys are the best part about having a best friend." 
Steve logs that one for later revenge and eases around the mass of bodies to take Wren into the living room. "Holy fuck," he says, "I thought you weren't coming?" 
Eddie rolls his eyes. "I wanted to see the girls. It has nothing to do with you." 
They hug and pat each other on the back, and then Eddie drops to his knees in front of Wren's car seat to smile at her. "I love her so much. Can I have this one? Y'already have so many." 
"No you absolutely cannot. Where's Dustin?" 
"They're all in the backyard. Mora's teaching them how to make grass flutes, or something." 
"How'd you get out of that?" 
Eddie shrugs. "She doesn't like me. Doesn't make any sense, goth and metal are like brothers." 
"Is she goth? I thought we settled on hippie who wears dark clothing." 
"You guys are such losers!" Robin says, like a tree adorned in girl-shaped ornaments. "Don't bitch about Mora." 
"Don't swear in front of my kids!" 
You, having taken off your shoes and coat, unlike Steve, shimmy around the table. "He said 'fucking bitch' in front of Bethie the other day," you gossip, sitting by your friend's side. Eddie gives you a quick hug. You're undoubtedly his favourite Harrington. 
"He's a disgusting man who shouldn't have kids." 
You gasp and elbow him. "How dare you." 
"Can we go play with Stinky?" Avery asks Robin. 
Robin puts Dove down, short hair flying every which way, "If you can find him. But be nice, okay? He's agitated today. Mora says it's something about the supermoon." 
Avery laughs and Dove races to follow her sister up the stairs. "Ave, remember what I said, okay?" Steve calls after her. "Come and tell me if she's being bad! And no going in the bathroom!" 
Bethie remains, oddly. Though it's obvious why she's stayed the longer she lingers, her gaze flickering between you and Eddie. 
He holds his arms out. "Hello, Beth. You want a bro hug?" 
Bethie laughs and meanders into his waiting arms, where he pat-pat-pats her back like he did to Steve, eliciting a wave of happy giggles. "You've gotten so big again!" Eddie says, moving her away kindly. "Woah!" 
"I'm glad people have stopped saying that to me," you joke. 
Steve's delighted, laughing loud and sudden, and you're always pleased to have made him laugh, practically collapsing in his direction. He pulls at you until you're arm's reach. 
"What does that mean, Eddie?" Bethie whispers. 
Eddie pulls her into his lap. "It means your mom is happy about baby Wren being born." 
"I'm really happy too." 
"I bet you are! Your dad told me you're like his little helper, is that true?" 
Steve turns into your cheek. A quick stolen moment before he kisses under your ear and pulls away. "Wow," he says, smiling at you, "could we, like, actually have a conversation right now? A full one?" 
You beam. "What do you wanna talk about?" 
Steve could happily talk about everything and nothing with you. Before bed you guys are usually tired but excited enough to be alone together that you'll talk about the colour of the new dish soap or Avery's broken pinky nail. "Seen any good movies lately?" 
You give him the look. He practically invented it, that sticky, gooey eyed love as you murmur, "Mm, no. Don't think so. How about you?" 
He leans in for a kiss. 
"Yikes," Eddie says, covering a giggling Bethie's eyes with his hands. "Robin, house rules, please!" 
Steve drops his arms heavily over your shoulders for a warm hug. "He's just jealous," he whispers. 
2K notes · View notes
french-goodbye · 8 months
Text
please never fall in love again
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pairing: steve harrington x reader
summary: dating steve harrington is hard, especially when girls keep hitting on him.
notes: i wrote this a while ago but eventually forgot about it in the midst of all my wips lol. title from the song please never fall in love again by ollie mn.
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you stare at the back of your boyfriend's head with narrowed eyes and your chin resting on your hands, an anger you know you shouldn't be feeling boiling beneath the surface of your skin. he, of course is none the wiser, as he is to most things, just chatting with eddie completely carefree by the bar.
you love steve harrigton, you really do. you think you fell in love with him on your first date and never really fell out of it. you've already planned your whole life with him, from getting married and having kids to growing old with him and sitting side by side on a wrap around porch. he's sweet, kind, he's great with kids and it doesn't hurt that he's easy on the eyes and great in bed.
his biggest flaw, however, is not exactly his fault. the worst thing about dating steve harrigton is the amount of women who hit on him on a daily basis. whether it's old ladies at the grocery store telling him he looks like their dead husbands or bored soccer moms looking for a little thrill or, the worst of all, the girls your age who slip him their phone number in old receipts over the counter at family video. these women are always there, like blood sniffing sharks, somehow finding a way to make a suggestive comment or a flirty joke.
most of the time, it doesn't really bother you even when it does happen in front of you. steve's the kind of guy who'd never cheat on you, simply because of who he is and how obsessed with you he is. sometimes, however, they can get a little too close and personal and you can't help but wish steve was a little less attractive. just a little.
and it's not that you don't trust him either, he's always quick and firm to shut them down when it happens. it's that they're the ones you don't trust, the girls with big permed blonde hair and fake tans and bright pink lipstick who look at you disdainfully when they realize you're together because they can barely take their eyes off of him for long enough to notice you're standing right next to him.
you're out at a bar celebrating jonathan's birthday when it happens this time, steve and eddie having offered to get everyone another round, the two of them leaning against the bar talking while they wait when a girl from the booth in the corner approaches them. she's clearly a little bit more than tipsy and obviously focused on steve as she talks to them, avidly taking him in and resting her hand on his forearm. he doesn't even blink, just smoothly leans away from her and tells her something that makes her leave as fast as she arrived.
you can barely hear nancy as she complains about her male coworkers on her summer job, as you heatedly stare at his stupidly nice hair and broad shoulders as your boyfriend laughs at something eddie said, hand scratching his neck. you're still watching him with scrunched eyebrows and a sour expression when you feel robin poking your cheek, making you look at her and gently slap her hand away.
"why are you poking me?"
"why are you staring at steve like he kicked your puppy?" she asks, frowning, looking back and forth between the two of you like a tennis match.
"i'm not" she gives you a flat look with raised brows. "fine," you huff. "why do women always hit on him? we can't take him anywhere"
"no idea, you tell me"
"urgh" you groan, throwing your arms around her and resting your head on her shoulder. "god, i hate men"
"amen sister" you hang onto her for a second as she takes a noisy sip of her empty drink through her straw and taps your back sympathetically a few times before gently pushing you away as steve and eddie walk back to your table, drinks in hands and still chatting distractedly.
she softly claps her hands, enthusiastically and telling you a quiet "yay" as she turns back to nancy and jonathan, as the two argue wether or not their coworkers are sexist (they totally are).
you're still laughing at robin's drunken antics when steve comes to your side again and sets your new drink on the table in front of you, resting his hand on your lower back. you let him but when he leans over you to press a kiss to your hair, you promptly dodge away from him and out of his reach. from the corner of your eye, you can see how he frowns at that and silently watches you for a second as you pretend to listen to what nancy says.
his hand on your lower back climbs all the way up to the back of your neck so he turn your head his away, forcing you to look at his big brown eyes staring at you like you just kicked his puppy and you almost feel guilty. almost.
"what's wrong?" he asks.
you shrug, "nothing's wrong."
"are you mad at me or something?"
"no" you slowly shake your head in negative, shrugging.
"gimme a kiss then" he rests one of his hands on your face tilting your head his way while the other on your neck guides your face to his. you lean in and press a quick kiss to his cheek and look away, accidentally making eye contact with the girl who just hit on him. she's watching the two of you, quickly looking away when she notices she was caught staring.
"you saw that, huh" he tells you, hands settling on your waist instead so he can look at you.
"hard not to" you huff, picking invisible lint from your pants.
"then you know nothing happened"
"of course i know that, i trust you" you complain as you roll your eyes and gesticulate to show your frustration "but i-it just makes so insanely angry when they touch you like that, like they have any right to-" you stop your ranting mid sentence when you realize the look on his face. "what? why are you looking at me like that?"
"nothing" he clears his throat and looks down to uselessly smooth non existing wrinkles on your top. you watch him though narrowed eyes and gasp when it hits you, making him look at you again. "what?"
"you like it when i'm jealous" you accuse, lightly poking his chest.
"no, i don't"
"yes, you do. i can't believe i never noticed it before" you huff an incredulous laugh, remembering all the times girls hit on him in front of you and he said nothing but affirmations of how much he's in love with you and how he could never want somebody else, acting more attentive and affectionate than usual later, pressing you against his body and kissing kissing kissing you until he was the only thing on your mind.
"okay, it's not what you're thinking" he replies running a hand through his hair nervously.
"what am i thinking, harrington?" you ask, lifting one eyebrow as a smirk makes it's way to your lips.
"it's not an ego thing" you laugh softly at him, letting your fingers run soothingly through the hair at the nape of his neck, finally giving into the temptation to get your hands on him. "it's just- i like knowing how much you want me just for yourself, how much you care about me."
you stare at him for a moment, taking in his sincere brown eyes and his fluffy hair, feeling impossibly endeared by the boy in front of you. he fidgets under your stare, so you smooth your hands down his shoulders, feeling the muscles underneath his shirt.
"well, i do care... a lot" you tell him, pretending to be coy and batting your eyelashes at him. "but it's not like i blame her"
"what?" he looks at you blankly, confused.
"i mean, look at you" you pull him closer and then closer still, still smirking. "those nice brown eyes, the pretty hair, those shoulders... nevermind how much of a charmer you are. damn harrington, no wonder women keep throwing themselves at you."
"babe" he groans embarrassedly, "they're not throwing themselves-" he dramatically drops his forehead on your shoulder making you laugh at his discomfort, letting brown strands of hair slip through your fingers as you comfortingly pet his hair and he squeezes your waist in reprimand.
"it's true!"
he pulls you closer by the grip he has on your waist and burrows his face in the crook of your neck in lieu of an answer. you let him have it even though you would like to see his face and the way his blush is probably spreading from his cheek to his neck and rest your chin into his shoulder as you hug him.
"but one of these days i'll have to step in and defend your honor"
"please don't" he pulls away and cups your neck, thumbs brushing your cheek and staring at you disapprovingly, his eyelashes touching at the corners, the hint of a smile still on his face.
"i don't know, maybe i'll have to challenge them to a duel to the death" you disagree and look at him from under your eyelashes. he gives you an affectionate look that'd make you nauseous were it not directed at you and presses a long lingering kiss to your lips.
"shut up" he whispers against your lips. you gladly do, at least until eddie and robin start throwing balled up paper napkins at your head. it's worth it though.
3K notes · View notes
mrsrdlw · 3 months
Text
“You look more like Kirk Hammet”
Eddie Munson x fem!reader
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another day, another fluff fic 🤭
wc: 1.2k
author’s note- The reader is Dustin’s sister!!!
Enjoy!
*********
Now, you were at your work, at Family Video, just waiting for him. It was like a routine. Every friday he would walk through the door and search for movies for his weekend.
At first, you only knew Eddie because of his reputation. "Eddie 'the freak' Munson" as the people in your school used to say. Honestly, you never knew why people would call him that. Only because he liked to play Dungeons & Dragons? Your brother did too, and he was no freak! Was he incredibly annoying? Yes! But it's not like he would worship the devil for that.
But with time, you got to know him a little bit better and you got to see he was nothing but a sweetheart. That's probably when you started to crush on him. You were in the senior year and, consequently, would share classes with him. It's not like you would talk to him all the time, but the times you did, even if it was just to say that he dropped his keys on the floor, your heart would melt.
On this friday, Dustin said that he wanted to come with you for work because he wanted to talk to Steve. So there he was, whispering something to Steve while Robin were organizing the new movies in the shelves and you were just singing along with the radio, which was playing a song of Mötley Crüe, a band you definitely didn't only like because of Nikki Sixx.
When the bell rang, announcing that someone was entering, you stopped singing and turned around seeing him walking to you. You could feel your cheeks getting red.
"Hey you. How was your week?" he said placing the movies he got in the last week in the counter
"Hi Eddie. It was good, thanks." You said looking at his hands full of rings
"Do you mind if i leave this here while i look for some movies?" he asked already looking to the horror section
"No, not at all!" You said giving him a smile which he reciprocated. You felt your stomach do a flip
As he walked to the shelves, Robin got close to you, giving you a mischievous smirk.
"What?" you asked and she only raised her eyebrows. "Oh please Robin, we're at work."
"I didn't say anything! I just think that, you know... you should go for it. You have a shot!" She said while you both looked at him trying to make a decision between two movies.
"Oh yeah, like if thats true! I don't think i have and honestly i don't think i want to figure it out." You say putting your hair into a ponytail "What if he reject me?"
"You'll only know if you ask babe." She said going to the back to get more boxes
Of course you wanted to say something to him, but how could you? You didn't know how things could go if he said he wasn't interested on you. It's not like he was going to spread gossip, he could never. If you knew one thing about him, it was that he was not like the jerks at school, he was respectful and gentle. Well, at least with you. All you got....
"Y/n!" He called you making you snap out of your trance.
"Sorry. I was just... thinking." you said getting the movies on his hands. Your fingers touched for a moment and you could still feel the warmth from his hands.
"What got you all up in your head?" He said taking his wallet and with a little concern in his face.
"Oh nothing. Just, stupid teenage girl stuff." You said laughing a little and he didn't say anything else.
The song in the radio was another one from Mötley Crüe and you hummed the song while handing him the movies he got.
"You like Mötley Crüe?" He said trying to see if he heard you hum the song or if he was just mistaken.
"Tell that to her bigger then 40 inches Nikki Sixx poster in her bedroom wall" Robin said behind you looking to the computer.
"Robin! Shut up!" You scolded her. It was not even that big "I'm sorry" you said looking at Eddie who was getting amused
"Oh yeah? Nikki Sixx, huh?" He said giggling "I look a little like him, don't i?"
You study his face for a second, as if you needed to. "You look more like Kirk Hammet"
"Oh yeah, this one is making company in the wall for Nikki too!"
"ROBIN!" You were getting redder by each second. So embarrassed to look at the man in front of you. But he found the whole situation very funny.
"Well, i'll take that as a compliment." He said looking at your eyes "So, Metallica too? You don't seem to like this kind of music"
"I wouldn't say that i'm a huge fan of them, i only know a couple songs and that's it. It's not like i listen to metal all the time like you. I only have the posters because i, uh, i think they're pretty" You said nervously talking before thinking and not really realizing what you're saying.
"It a'right. They're pretty metal!" He said but got interrupted by you brother
"Eddie! What are you doing here?" Dustin said happy to see his friend. You didn't know how they knew each other
"What do you think?" He said showing the video tapes on his hands "What're you doing here?"
"I'm here with my sister! Do you know her?" Dustin said looking at you
"Y/n is your sister? Of course i know her! How come i didn't know you were related?" he said looking back at you
"You've never asked if i had a sister."
"How do you know him?" I asked curious as well, too confused to connect the dots
"He's my dungeon master y/n, i told you i got in a d&d club!" Now everything connected.  "Can i talk to you? i had a incredible idea for a campaign!" Your brother said while Eddie head out of the store
"Sure. Bye gorgeous!" He said winking at you and that was it. You were melted inside.
"What are you waiting for? He's flirting with you! It's your chance." Robin said giving you courage to go after him before he left
You stormed out of Family Video when Duntin came in again. There he was ready to leave when he saw you.
"Hey, uhm, hi." You said too nervous going to his opened window. His van was tall so you were face to face with him.
How could he get even more hot with sunglasses on. You had to be tough.
"So i, uh, i was just wondering, you know, if there was any chance of us going out sometime, even to watch a movie if you want, i just really like you and"... You were cut. Speaking as fast as you could, trying to be brave, you didn't realize he shut your mouth with a kiss.
When he let go of you, leaving you speechless he only smiled at you "You're so cute when you're nervous. I'll pick you up at seven, how about that? You can come to my house to watch these movies i got."
"I'd love that!" You said in a state of haze. Looking at him passionately
"Then it's a date. I'll see you sweetheart" and he drove away.
You stood out there, watching him leave, touching your lips to make sure it wasn't a dream.
"I told you, you had a shot" Robin came to you putting her arms around your shoulders .
930 notes · View notes
ashwhowrites · 18 days
Note
Hey, if you hadn't already done something like this, I was wondering if you'll write Eddie x Popular!Henderson!R, where they're sneaking around behind Dustin's back.... 1. Because Dustin looks up to him and they're friends and 2. She's not ready to let everyone know just yet (wanting to live in ignorant bliss just a little while longer before she falls under scrutiny for falling for "the freak").
And so, when one of her friends decides to hook her up on a date, she can't exactly refuse, so she goes along with it to shut her up, without letting Eddie know, of course. And during a game of dnd, Dustin let's it slip where you are for the night, unknowingly sending Eddie into a spiral, thinking she's cheating and that's why she wants to keep them a secret and after having an internal battle, he cuts the campaign short, surprising everyone, and he crashes her date, with hellfire in toe, demanding answers. And then everyone finds out and she explains blah blah and they live happily ever after. Sorry, this was long xx
This was so fun! I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻
Dustin's friend
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When Dustin said he found a new friend, that was yet again years older than him, Y/N wasn't too pleased. First, it was Steve, and now a guy named Eddie. But when Y/N met Eddie for the first time, she couldn't care less about the age gap between him and her brother, all that mattered was that he was around her age and single.
Eddie still wasn't sure how he managed to get Dustin's hot popular sister to go out with him. Whatever he did, he thanked god for it because having Y/N on his lap with her tongue down his throat was his heaven.
"Missed you so much," Y/N whined, her hips moving against Eddie's as she yanked off his shirt.
"Fuck, I missed you too." Eddie moaned as Y/N sucked down his chest. She left her marks to travel south until she was just above his boxers.
"MOM WANTS YOU," Dustin screamed as he pounded on Y/N's locked door.
"Damn it," Eddie sighed and hung his head.
"BE RIGHT THERE," Y/N screamed back, she sighed and stood up. She handed Eddie his shirt with a sad smile. "Sorry, Eds."
"Fuckers are giving me blue balls. Are you sure we can't tell him? Maybe he'd stop interrupting as much." Eddie glared towards the door. He stood up and threw on his jeans.
"You know I'm not ready for all of that yet." Y/N sighed.
"Fine, I'll go home and finish the old-fashioned way." Eddie joked, smirking as he walked backward to her window, his eyes on her.
"Maybe I'll come over and join you, later." She winked. She kissed Eddie goodbye and waited for him to leave. Then she went to see what her mom wanted.
~~~
Y/N knew hiding her relationship with Eddie was hard and tiring. And she felt guilty every time she had to act like Eddie wasn't everything to her. But she was scared. She was scared to take away Dustin's friend, worried she overstepped. She was terrified it would ruin their friendship because of the bro code. And selfishly, she was scared of the damage it would do to her social life.
"I'm telling you, he has been begging me for a date with you. You are single and have no reason to say no." Chrissy whined.
"My reason to say no is that I don't want to," Y/N said, rolling her eyes as she slammed her locker shut.
She whined when Chrissy followed.
"Like you have anything going on tomorrow night, anyway?" Chrissy argued, her eyes taunting.
Y/N technically had nothing going on tomorrow, Dustin and Eddie had hellfire so both boys were busy.
"Stop thinking of an excuse and just go. Then if you hate it, I will never set you up again." Chrissy promised.
"Deal," Now Y/N could get Chrissy off her back.
~~~
"We are kicking ass today! I wish Y/N were here to see it." Dustin cheered. Y/N had spent more time watching Hellfire since she had to pick Dustin up anyway.
"Why isn't she?" Eddie asked, he prayed it sounded casual. He read ahead on his notes to look like he didn't care too much.
"On a date." Dustin shrugged, playing his next move. No one had the table had any idea that sentence sent Eddie into a panic. Sweat on his forehead as his leg shook beneath the table.
His girlfriend was on a date, with another guy.
It all made sense, she wanted him to be a secret because she was seeing someone. Dustin knew about the guy, and he couldn't know about Eddie. Because then her secret would be exposed. Like it just was.
"Where?" Eddie snapped, his angry tone had the table looking at him in seconds.
"Enzo's," Dustin said confused.
"Get in the van," Eddie snapped as he grabbed his keys.
~
The rest of hellfire sat confused as Eddie raced to the restaurant. He was silent but gripped the wheel until his knuckles were white. The boys followed as Eddie stormed out of the van and into the restaurant.
Eddie felt a wave of heartache flood in his chest when he saw her with him with his own eyes. She looked beautiful as she talked about something he couldn't hear.
"Why are we here? Why do you care about my sister?" Dustin asked, but Eddie already was moving.
His heavy boots hit the floor hard, and his hand slammed on the table. The couple jumped and fear showed in Y/N's eyes when Eddie leaned down to her level.
Face to face, Eddie's hard breathing smacked Y/N's face. She twiddled her thumbs nervously as she saw hellfire behind him. Her brother watching with confusion.
"Eddie, what are you doing?" She said through clenched teeth, trying to keep the conversation between them.
"Demanding why the fuck my girlfriend is on a date with another guy." Eddie snapped, his eyes dark as he glared at her. She knew he had every right to be mad, but she didn't want a scene.
She stood up, and Eddie straightened up. His eyes haven't left her, not even glancing at the stranger across from her.
"Can I please explain later? In private." She whispered, her eyes looking over Eddie's shoulder as the boys watched.
"No, I'm tired of this private shit. Explain right here, right now. Or we are done." Eddie threatened. He didn't want to break up, he wished on every star above him there was a way to make this relationship work.
"Eddie please." She whispered, her watery eyes pleading for him to back off until they could talk. "Not right now in front of everyone." Eddie tried to ignore her tears, not letting himself get sucked into her guilt trap.
"Fine, forget it. I'll see you around, Henderson." Eddie said coldly as he nodded and backed off. Y/N felt frozen in her spot as Eddie went out the door.
"Y/N?" Dustin spoke up, his hand reaching towards her.
In seconds she was running out the door.
"What is going on?" the random date asked.
"Shh man," Mike said, sliding into the booth next to him. He pointed out the window, a clear view of the couple. The boys followed, all sitting in the big booth as they stared out the window.
~
"I'm sorry! I got scared but please." Y/N cried as she tugged on Eddie's arm.
"Scared because you got caught. I can't believe you could do this to me. What about all that love bullshit? This is what you do when you love someone?" Eddie argued, hot tears in his eyes.
"I do love you! Nothing between us is bullshit. Chrissy was on my back for weeks about going on a date with this guy! I never agreed until she said If I went on it, she'd never do it again! I promise you I was just trying to get her off my back. I was going to tell her I hated it and finally have peace of just being with you."
"You know what else brings peace? Finally admitting to other people that you are in love with me," Eddie said sadly, "I'm tired of being your secret. I can't keep doing it."
Y/N sobbed as she reached forward and held his face in her hands.
"I'm so sorry. I love you so much. I'll tell Dustin and everyone. Please just give me a chance to make this up to you." Y/N begged, Eddie sniffled as he looked into her eyes.
"I love you too," he smiled, and Y/N felt relief in her bones. "You took a chance on me, so I'll take the chance on you."
Y/N smiled and leaned forward, Eddie met her halfway and smashed his lips on hers. His hands wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer.
~
"Oh my god!" The boys all said at once, the random date was long gone.
"Eddie and my sister?"
"Dude! Eddie is banging your sister!" Mike teased
"Is he touching her ass?" Lucas gasped as he moved closer to the window
"Oh, that is so much tongue." Gareth chuckled.
"Our boy is making out with a popular girl!" Jeff cheered, high fives all around the table, except for Dustin who sat in a state of shock.
~
"YOU ARE SCREWING MY SISTER?"
Eddie and Y/N jumped as Dustin screamed.
"DUSTIN!" Y/N screamed as Dustin ran straight into Eddie and took him to the ground.
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Tags!
@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger
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rogueddie · 1 year
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996 hours, 39 minutes and 12 seconds.
Gareth has had enough. It's been long enough. He's sick and tired of waiting- he's taking matters into his own hands. He can't wait any longer. It'll kill him.
"Oh, hey," Steve looks surprised when he opens the door. "Gareth. Uh, what are you-?"
"Are you home alone?"
"What? Yeah, but-"
He grabs Steve by the shoulders, turning him around and directing him into his house, kicking the door shut behind him. He walks them all the way to the kitchen and nudges Steve into one of the seats.
Gareth sits across from him, narrowing his eyes. "Are you a homophobe?"
"What? No!" Steve looks deeply offended at the question, before a more curious, understanding look takes over. "Wait, are you-?"
"No, I just need to make sure you're safe. You don't have a problem with any of that?"
"No, I don't. I'm not an asshole- not anymore, anyway."
Gareth glances at the clock.
996 hours, 42 minutes, 08 seconds.
"Alright... do you like Eddie?"
"What?"
"Eddie Munson. Do. You. Like. Him."
"That- I don't- what- what does that have to- to do with, like, anything?" Steve flushes, shifting uncomfortably.
That's a yes, Gareth thinks, nodding to himself.
"I'm going to send him over here in, like... two, maybe three, hours. He likes horror movies, salted popcorn and diet coke."
"I don't know what you mean."
Gareth sighs, rubbing his head as he glances at the clock again.
996 hours, 42 minutes, 58 seconds.
"I can't deal with his stupid pining anymore," he grabs Steves hands, giving him his best pleading look, hoping his desperation shows. "Just... try one date. Please, for the love of God, I won't survive another day listening to him ranting about your hair."
"What? Wait... does- does he... like me?"
Steves voice is so quiet, timid, it nearly makes Gareth falter. It sounds so much like his little sister, when she lets the cruel shit other kids say get to her.
"Don't let him know I told you, but... yeah. Yeah, Steve, he really likes you."
"Oh."
Gareth can't help but laugh at how starstruck he looks, eyes so wide and awed.
"Wait, what- what does he say about me? You said... my hair?"
"Alright, I'm taking that as a yes," Gareth quickly gets up, waving off Steves excited questions. "Two to three hours, Harrington!"
1,002 hours, 34 minutes, 58 seconds.
Eddie shoves Gareth out the way as soon as he opens the door, immediately starting to pace in his living room.
"You alright?"
"No!" Eddie screeches, eyes almost as wild as his hair. "Steve kissed me!"
"What? Dude, that's great!"
"I know! I just- fuck, I have to thank you for giving him the heads up that I was on the way with his VHS," Eddie grabs both of his hands. "He set up a pillow fort so we could watch Nightmare on Elm Street together. Gar, the movie scared him but he put it on because I like it and... fuck."
"So, it went well?"
"It was amazing."
They sit together, Eddie walking him through every little detail of their date. It just further proves that Steve more than earnt his romantic reputation.
It's also a relief to finally hear Eddie talking with so much joy, and love. Even just talking about Steve, he has a look like he thinks he hung the moon. His own personal sun.
"Hey," Gareth interrupts. "Congrats, man. You deserve this."
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☆ 。・:*:★,。・:*: ☆ 。・:*:。・:*:★,。・:*:・゚☆ 。・:*: ★
「 ✦ steve harrington ✦ 」
╰┈➤ 18+ none of these stories belong to me! this is a masterlist of all steve harrington stories i’ve read and reblogged! just thought it would be nice to have them all in one spot! (if your fic is on here and you wish not to be, please let me know!) some with have summaries if provided <3
╭┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈╮
🎧 previous fic rec
🎧 @upsidedownwithsteve
🖇️ give me a night, i’ll make you
⤑ Steve teaching reader how to really kiss? Like she’s only ever had bad ones before? 
🖇️ my name is whatever you decide pt2
⤑ old money steve, an infatuated waitress, no labels, a disaster waiting to happen. some smut, some jealousy and too many mentions of monaco
🖇️ request
🖇️ she drives me crazy pt2
⤑ summer camp, broken kayaks, too much tension and that boy you hate. an enemies to lovers camp counsellor story.
🖇️ meet me in the afterglow pt2
⤑ another year at summer camp, more broken kayaks, a change of plans, a lot of wondering. meet us in the afterglow.
🖇️ like it’s love?
⤑ “I love you,” Steve whispered and his voice cracked on each word. Tears from his eyes stream the dirt on his face, running rivers down your cheek until they mixed with your own. “I’ll find you again. In the next life, and the next again. I prom—”
🖇️ all their works
🎧 @lovebugism
🖇️ request
🖇️ request (shy!reader valentines)
⤑ steve helps his shy gf celebrate her very first valentine's day
🖇️ request (shy!reader)
⤑ steve tells you he likes when you talk a lot
🖇️ request (king!steve)
⤑ steve comforts you when he accidentally makes you flinch
🖇️ fix it
⤑ you thought you were over it, the whole steve-and-nancy thing. spoiler alert: you aren't.
🖇️ request (shy!reader)
⤑ steve finds out the cute girl at the record store likes him and decides to bring her ice cream as a proclamation of love
🖇️ request (king!steve)
⤑ the one where king steve keeps his best girl a secret.
🖇️ request
🎧 because of you by @crappymixtape
🖇️ an enemies to lovers fic with Steve
🎧 more than just friends by @schoopsahoy
🖇️ you and your best friend have gotten into the habit of making out, as long as there's no touching. but that's easier said than done.
🎧 tell me you love me pt2 by @upsidedownmvnson
🎧 the aftermath by @starcourtsteves
🖇️ After the Battle of Starcourt, Steve and the Henderson siblings go back to the Henderson house for a sleepover so Steve and the reader are catching up/finally relaxing in bed (she was with the Kids and Steve in the Russian base). Dustin eventually crashes in his sister’s room for mutual comfort.
🎧 oh, you didn’t know? by @stevie-petey
🖇️steve is pathetically in love with you and for some reason the universe hates him and continues to pray on his downfall. typical.
🎧do you want to be my valentine? by @certifiedlovergirlsstuff
🎧 i knew you’d linger like a tattoo kiss by @andvys
🖇️ Steve was slipping through your fingers and you desperately held onto him not realizing that his heart wasn’t yours anymore. Dealing with the aftermath of your breakup turns out to be harder than you thought. Steve’s presence still lingers and while he keeps a hold of your heart, someone else sneaks their way into it too.
🎧 dirty dancing by @nexusnyx
🖇️ When Steve went to the address for investigating purposes, the last thing on his mind was stumbling upon one of the most beautiful sights he's ever seen. It happens, though, and he convinces himself that meeting you was only a thing of the moment, until he encounters you outside the cinema a week later, crying. He does something about it.
🎧 alone with him by @buckylattes
🖇️You get locked in a store with Steve(thanks to him being an idiot) and you’re not sure how long it’ll take to get out…but something else gets out before you guys do. Thankfully it stops your arguing and hate for each other.
🎧 @munsonluhvr
🖇️ how to fake it
🖇️ request (confident!reader)
⤑ king!steve harrington x confident!reader. after setting his eyes on you in the cafeteria, steve, and all of his ego, pursues you; though you don't fall to your knees quite as easy as the other hawkins high girls.
🎧 @keerysfreckles
🖇️ breaking the silence
🖇️ time after time
⤑ steve's longing glance to y/n makes him decide to stay at the hawkin's middle school snow ball.
🖇️ reunions
⤑ during spring break of 86, y/n hopper flies back to hawkins indiana (dustin's request) and isn't surprised when dustin tells her the world might end again.
🎧 power trip by @silkscream
🖇️you and steve settle your differences when he drives you home.
🎧 whole by @freelancearsonist
🎧 request by @familyvideostevie
🎧 fast times at family video by @thursdaygxrls
🖇️ steve’s great a flirting. that is, until robin gets involved.
🎧 request by @princekeerys
🎧 a stranger valentine by @fictionalthrill
🖇️Steve puts himself out there on Valentine's Day.
🎧 golden hour by @plainemmanem
🎧 right person wrong time by @fleurrreads
🎧 second chance by @astermath
🖇️steve decides to ask out the girl who he keeps seeing around hawkins with her nose in a book. he’s a little surprised when he gets brutally rejected, only to find out his “king steve” era is haunting him more than he expected. he attempts to make it up to you and show you he’s changed, even if it takes him a couple of tries.
🎧 favour for a favour by @yellowharrington
🖇️ steve has a big ol' crush on the girl that trades him pastries for movies every week.
🎧 crushes chaos and confessions by @quin-ns
🖇️ dustin knows how steve feels about you and he can’t stop himself from spilling his best friend’s biggest secret to you.
🎧 sincerely yours by @superblysubpar
🖇️ a movie night, a confession, an offer, your Calvin's bunched up on the floor of your best friend's BMW...and other places.
🎧 @starryeyedstories
🖇️ jessie’s girl
⤑ Steve is in love with you and you’re trying desperately to ignore the fact that you’re in love with him too…because you’re dating Jessie, the perfect jock you’ve been with since high school who everyone expects you to settle down with.
🖇️ absolutely smitten
⤑ There’s a new crew member at Scoops Ahoy and Steve might have a crush.
🎧 @nervoushottee
🖇️ illicit affairs
⤑ You wish you were enough for Steve, but he will always want Nancy. 
🖇️ go for it
⤑ Steve has been your “movie guy” at Family Video for a while now. Little does he know that the main reason you’ve been buying these movies is to flirt with him and just maybe ask him out
🖇️ this or that steddie x reader
⤑ You can’t seem to figure out what you like better between Steve and Eddie
🎧 @loveshotzz
🖇️ blurb
🖇️ i guess it’s never really over
⤑ Convinced by your best friend to return to Hawkins for the summer, nothing is like how you left it five years ago, including the boy you’ve done nothing but try and forget.
🎧 @captainmarvels
🖇️ home away from home
⤑ When you and Dustin leave Steve alone for half the summer, he realizes just how much he loves his two favorite people.
🖇️ a case of you
⤑ When you catch Steve’s eye from across the mall, all he can think about is you. Will he garner up the courage to say hi, or will your flirtatious banter remain an unspoken thing?
🖇️ where i lay down
⤑ Steve has one year left to get you to talk to him, and he doesn’t realize how much he loves the game until you let him win.
🎧 @jurassicbarnes-archives
🖇️ coy
⤑ In which you make the first move (and Robin wins a bet)
🖇️ eventually
⤑ In which you break up with Steve but a series of unfathomable events eventually lead up to you wanting him back.
🖇️ the keg stand
⤑ In which you take a stand to protect your best friend’s reputation
🎧 @slashersteve
🖇️ five tickets
⤑ Steve couldn’t pass up a chance to be able to kiss you, even if there is a price.
🖇️ just friends
⤑ There's a reason Steve keeps making fun of the guy you're going on a date with, you just don't know what it is and he'd like to keep it that way.
🖇️ let’s kiss
⤑ It might be the end of the world, and you're for some reason worried about having never been kissed. Steve decides to change that.
🖇️ ahoy there
⤑ Steve keeps striking out with girls, and Robin is having a time about it. The score for the day is 0-5, and then you approach the counter and suddenly it becomes 1-5
🖇️ some kind of disaster
⤑ Reader and Steve have been together for a few weeks now, and she runs into a person she had a fling with once. That person was Billy Hargrove, and it’s the first Steve’s hearing of this.
🖇️ stuck with me
⤑ you and Steve have been through some tough shit, but it was always together. This time, it really seems like you’re going to die and Steve doesn’t want to die without telling you something first
🖇️ next best thing to an angel
⤑ Reader has been cursed by Vecna, and the group has to work fast in order to find a way to rid her of it. There's too many close calls, and just when they thought they had it figured out...it just might be too late
🎧 @lesservillain
🖇️ (alpha!steve)
🖇️ borrowing
🎧 his good luck charm by @bimbobaggins69
🖇️ king!steve getting a little frisky before the basketball game because he swears you’re his good luck charm
🎧 request by @forever-rogue
🎧 stories tucked away by @harringtown
🖇️ AU in which the reader is pulled into the Stranger Things world. With the knowledge of how the story ends, they try to change the script and save the characters they’ve come to love. But this isn’t just a show, anymore, and destiny isn’t easily affected, even if that destiny was written by a pair of grown-up film kids
🎧 request by @stevebabey
🎧 it’s not like he’s my boyfriend by @luveline
🖇️ Steve hears you wrong, thinks he’s your boyfriend, and begins to act accordingly. You try your best to go along with it until you can’t anymore.
🎧 wrong address by @ash5monster01
🖇️ Three dozen roses have just been delivered to your door on accident, in attempts to find the sender and correct the mistake, you discover you might have just found your match.
🎧 request by @ashwhowrites
🎧 hot for teacher by @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.
🎧 thin mints and menthol by @trashmouthhharrington
🖇️ It’s set a year after Season 2 has finished and you’re a senior in high school who’s often getting into trouble with the law for petty crimes. And Hopper usually gets you out of trouble. Then one night the new officer Steve Harrington joins him.
🎧 hard to handle by @rax-writes
🎧 i want you to show me by @v-writings
🖇️ steve finds you in your secret place after dropping Dustin off at the Snow Ball, and talking about how he’s feeling leads you to do something neither of you could have expected.
🎧 you bet by @captain-hargreeves
🎧 he’s an idiot by @harringtonhq
🎧 bumps and bruises by @ofnifflersandkings
🎧 paralyzed by @murdockparker
🖇️ She walked in on a Friday afternoon. Steve needed nothing more than to get to know her--if only he could find it in himself to speak to her.
🎧 that guy by @appocalipse
🖇️ After he's been to yet another failed date with yet another random pretty girl, Steve Harrington, your best friend, stops by at the diner your family owns for a late-night chat, same as he'd done a thousand times before. Steve is totally unaware of how much he's hurting you with his endless parade of dates, because after all — the two of you are only friends and nothing more, right? It's not like you have any secret feelings for him…
🎧 cowboy hat rule by @taintedcigs
🖇️ helping out mr. harrington in his ranch was supposed to be fun, but steve harrington was an asshole. an absolute pain in your ass that teased you, and you gave him the same energy back, always. so when you unknowingly wear his cowboy hat, he decides to teach you what exactly the cowboy hat rule is.
🎧 romance is dead, isn’t it? by @megxplryxb
🎧 pretty girl by @hellfireclubmember
🖇️ Dustin can't stop talking about the sub he got to fill in for Lucas, making Steve want to smash his head into a wall. That is, of course, until he sees you.
•MASTERLIST
•STRANGER THINGS MASTERLIST
hopefully all links work, let me know if not <3
last update april 8, 2024
435 notes · View notes
sanguineterrain · 10 months
Text
redamancy | steve harrington
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Summary: redamancy (n.) - the act of loving someone who loves you back; a love returned in full // or, four times you kissed Steve Harrington, and one time he finally kissed you back.
Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader
Word count: 5.2k
Warnings/tags: friends to lovers, 5+1 fic format, no use of y/n, FLUFF, PINING PINING, injured s4 steve, hospital setting, general vecna angst (eddie's alive bc i will never kill eddie in my fics), bed sharing, happy ending, and kissing. if that wasn't clear. :)
A/N: fun fact: this is the first time i've written a 5+1 fic! technically it's 4+1 but whatevs. if you enjoy this fic, please give it a reblog and support your local steve harrington tumblrina.
divider by firefly-graphics
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i. the promise 
"Would you ever get married?" 
You open your eyes. The setting sun nearly blinds you through the windshield. Immediately, you stick out a hand to block it. 
You're still reclined all the way back in the passenger seat, because Steve's fancy schmancy BMW can do that. He frequently lectures you about doing it while he's driving. Have I taught you nothing? Road safety! 
"I mean, I guess so," you say. "If someone ever wants to put a ring on me."
You sit up and pull down the sun visor. Steve turns. His hair lightens in the summer, shades of reddish blond peeking through. He insists his hair has never been anything but brown, fiercely pledging his allegiance to brunettes. You coo at his highlights all the same. 
"I want to," he says after a minute. "I wanna get married." 
You're parked down the block from your house. You should've gotten out ten minutes ago, but there's never any rush when you're with Steve.
"The line to wed you will be out the door, champ," you say around a grin. 
"Hm. I dunno." He stretches in his seat. "Maybe if I was the same guy I was a few years ago." 
You wrinkle your nose. "I doubt that."
"But what can I really offer?" he continues. "I'm just some guy who can't get into college."
"That doesn't mean no one will marry you. Some people who go to college are dumber than dirt. They get married. College has nothing to do with it. You can go, if you really want to. One rejection doesn't say anything about you, Steve." 
"I guess."
You pull the lever on the side. The seat shoots up with a brrrap! It clicks as you straighten. 
"Where did all this come from, anyway?" you ask. 
Steve shrugs. "Just thinking."
"Dangerous."
He smiles. "I like to live on the edge."
"Contemplating marriage like the world's biggest sap. Definitely edgy."
Steve hums. His hands are in his lap. He picks at a cuticle, a habit he’s recently developed. You wonder why he’s so anxious. 
"Two people from our graduating class got married last week."
Your eyes widen. "You're kidding."
"Nope. Lisa Schell and Gary Brewer." 
"Wait, didn't she cheat on him?"
"Yeah, but he slept with her sister, so I guess they called it even."
You shake your head. "That's insane. They're literally babies, Steve. That's like Dustin getting married."
Steve scowls. "He's not allowed to get married before me." 
"Not even to his possibly fictional Suzie?" 
"Not even to her."
You stare at the freckles on Steve's face and how his frizz kind of looks like a halo in the light. You imagine the feel of his hair in your hands, the warmth of his scalp.
"I'd marry you," you say. 
Steve's eyebrows shoot up. 
"What?"
"Like, if you were in a pinch."
He looks at you sideways. You flatten, then scrunch your hands over your knees. Your tongue feels too big for your mouth. 
"I'm talking about spending the rest of my life with someone, you know. Not borrowing fifty bucks."
"Fifty bucks is a lot of money for some of us, Harrington."
"That’s probably how much Lisa's wedding dress cost."
"I hope she kept the receipt."
Silence descends. A soft breeze blows through your cracked window. You want to search Steve's glove box for gum, but you've just told him you'd marry him, so you can't do anything except think about the fact that those words came out of your mouth. 
"Are you…" Steve begins, then pauses. "Why did you say that?"
"Because you're worried, for some incomprehensible reason, that no one will marry you."
"I scoop ice cream for a living."
You level him with a look. 
"Steve. We're kids. Cut yourself some slack."
His eyes turn hollow. They've been doing that lately. You wish you knew why. 
"I don't really feel like a kid these days," he says. 
Something about the way Steve sounds makes you want to climb over the console and curl into him, cradle his head to your neck. Which is crazy. You guys don't do that. Steve isn't yours to do that with. 
"Let's make a pact," you say softly. 
He meets your eye. "A pact?"
"Mmhm. Let's say if both of us aren't married by… thirty, then we'll get married."
"Well, I don't want a pity marriage." 
You roll your eyes. "It's not a pity marriage, Steve."
"Thirty is so late! You really think I won't be married by then?" he asks. 
"No, I don't think that. I already said folks will be lined up to marry you," you say. 
"I can't wait till I'm thirty." 
"Or you'll turn into an old maid?" 
"Meh meh meh," he mocks without any heat. 
You purse your lips so you don't smile. "Fine. We'll split the difference. Twenty-four?"
Steve considers that. Really considers it. It suddenly occurs to you what you're promising and who you're promising it to. You wonder if you'll both forget about it. Or brush it off. Oh, what did we know? We were kids!
Except Steve doesn't feel like a kid. And maybe you don't either, as much as you wish you do. 
"Do you mean it?" he asks. 
"Of course I do."
"No, seriously." He's serious. "I mean it, so if you don't…"
"Steve, I said I mean it. I do."
"You'll marry me?"
"I will."
"Swear on it."
You hold out your right pinkie out, waiting. Steve hooks his finger over yours. Impulsively, you kiss your linked pinkies. To show that you really, truly mean it.
You try to picture it. What walking down the aisle to meet Steve at the altar would feel like. You wonder if he'd keep his hair long, like it is now. You like it long. Would he keep it long for you?
"Will you buy me a ring?" you ask. "If we get married, I mean."
"Of course I'd buy you a ring," Steve says. "I'd get you anything you wanted."
"Okay." Your heart hammers in your chest. "I'm gonna go home."
"Alright. Want me to pull up to the door?"
"No, it's fine. Walking is good for digestion. Those milkshakes were no joke."
Steve smiles. He has such a lovely smile. His Cupid's bow is shaped exactly like a heart. 
"Same time tomorrow? It's movie night." 
Right. Your movie night. A semi-regular occasion that includes you, Steve, Robin, and the kids, sometimes. You've watched at least a dozen movies this summer together. Only this time, you're watching a movie after promising to marry Steve. 
"Sounds good," you say. "Will you pick me up?"
"Always."
Another promise. You hadn't realized how many Steve makes to you. 
"'Kay. See you."
You get out. Steve waves as he pulls away from the curb. 
Your ring finger feels bare. You rub it, hoping the feeling will go away. 
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ii. the wound 
The plastic chair has turned your legs numb. Your butt is about to follow. 
Can butts go numb? You're not sure. You'll find out soon, though. 
You rub your eyes. God, you need sleep. 
Across the room, you catch Joyce Byers' gaze. She smiles at you, though it's brittle. You try to smile back, feeling distinctly like you might break if you stretch your mouth too far. 
She looks away, and your not-smile falls. 
"They'll let us in soon," she says, like she knows. She does know. Better than you, certainly. 
The hospital smells cold. It smells like a place people go to die. 
Your heartbeat ratchets. You shouldn't think like that. 
"You don't understand," comes Dustin's voice. He's at the receptionist's desk, flanked by Mike and Lucas. Dustin's face is red and blotchy, near tears. 
"I need to see him. You won't let me see Eddie, so—" 
The receptionist rears back, like she can't believe three children are daring to speak to her. 
"Neither patient is cleared for visitors," she says icily. "Now, for the last time: have a seat."
Out of the corner of your eye, you see Joyce begin to stand, ready to herd the kids away. You beat her to it. Out of everyone in this room, you're probably the only person who has the strength to stand. 
"Guys, c'mon. It won't be long." 
They don't look at you. You don't take it personally. An hour earlier, you'd cornered Dustin and forced him to tell you what happened. What's been happening. 
So he did. And now you're here. 
You don't blame them for glaring at the prickly receptionist. But you know that won't do anything. It won't heal Steve quicker. And it won't make anybody feel better. 
"Hey, Dustin." You lay a hand on his shoulder. He looks at you like you're not Steve. You wish it was you in surgery instead. 
"Come sit," you say. 
"I need to see him," he tells you. 
"I know." Your throat tightens, threatening to trap your words altogether. You rush to get the rest out. "I do too. But this isn't going to make that happen faster. Come sit with me. Okay?"
"He'll be fine," Mike says quietly. "They don't wanna get sued by his asshole dad."
You nod, because yeah, good point. Quite possibly the first time Richard Harrington has brought anybody comfort. He's in Cancun, last you'd heard. You hope he chokes on a margarita. 
Dustin follows you. Mike and Lucas sit next to Joyce. The five of you wait. 
At some point, you fall asleep. When you wake up, it's to the contentious receptionist peering over you all. 
"Mr. Harrington is awake," she says primly. "You may see him now, young man."
Dustin flies out of the chair, Lucas and Mike at his heels. 
A part of you wants to go home, and you feel terrible for it. You feel terrible that Steve almost died, but you're the frightened one. You don't know if you can bear to see him tied to tubes and a heart monitor.
"Go on."
Joyce tracks you sleepily. Her hair is more knotted than before you fell asleep. She nods to the hallway. 
"Go see him."
You can’t voice every thought, every fear. I don’t know if I can see him like this.
“It’s good he won’t wake up alone,” she says.
“He’s got a family.” You wave your hand weakly. 
Joyce watches you for a moment. Then she gets up.
"Yes, he does." 
She holds out her hand. 
You don’t know Joyce Byers very well. This is probably the longest conversation you’ve had with her. You realize, then, that you're wrong—you’re not the one who’s strong enough to stand.
“Let’s go see him,” she says. "All of his loved ones should be there." 
God, are you really that obvious? 
You take her hand, and the two of you go down the hall.
Steve is nearly unrecognizable in the hospital bed. The kids are speaking to him, unusually quiet. They look up when you enter. 
Steve’s eyes lock with yours. 
“Hey,” is all you say.
“Hi,” he says, voice rough with disuse and getting choked by what Dustin had described as demon bats. 
“Boys, come on,” Joyce calls. “Let’s make a cafeteria stop.”
You see Dustin about to protest, but Lucas tugs his arm like he knows, and goddamn, you really are that obvious, aren’t you? 
You wait for the door to close behind you. Then you walk to Steve’s side. 
The gnarled ring of flesh around his neck makes you queasy. The rest of him isn’t much better, red and purple smeared across any skin that’s not covered by the chalky hospital gown.
You sit in the chair. It’s the same plastic kind as the ones in the waiting room, but this one doesn’t feel so hard.
“Robin called me,” you say.
Steve closes his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, you’d better be.” Your voice cracks. “Can’t believe you went dimension-surfing without me.”
“You’re mad at me.”
Your breath is punched out of you. 
“No,” you say softly. “My God, Steve. I’m not mad at you.”
His hand creeps to the edge of the bed. His fingers are scraped.
You take his hand and lace your fingers together. He slow-blinks. He’ll probably fall asleep in the next half hour. 
“It’s okay if you are,” he whispers. “Mad, I mean. I’d be mad too.”
You know he wouldn’t be, though. You know Steve would forgive you in a heartbeat.
“I’m not mad,” you say, equally as quiet. “I just… I was scared." 
He nods. "I'm sorry for scaring you." 
You bow your head and close your eyes. When Robin had called, you'd run to the bathroom and coughed up stomach acid.
They say he’ll make it, she'd told you, and you'd realized with violent clarity that you love him. 
But Steve doesn't need that right now. So you bury it.
You lean in and bring Steve's knuckles to your lips, taking care not to jostle him.
His eyes widen. Part of you hopes he won’t remember this conversation.
"Don't do that again," you say. “Not without me.”
"Okay,” he whispers. “I won't." 
You wait until he falls asleep, hand in his. 
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iii. the brand
“There’s no way I’m getting in your death van, Munson!” Robin whines.
“Death van is an exaggeration, Buckley. If anything, it’s a life van. I’m still here, aren’t I?” Eddie asks.
“Definitely not because of that heap of metal,” Steve murmurs to you. You snicker.
It’s nearly dark, but a summer dark, where it doesn’t actually turn to night until well after nine PM. The top two buttons of Steve’s dress shirt are undone, and you can’t stop staring. It’s embarrassing, really. You’d nearly missed Eddie’s walk across the stage because of that damned triangle of tanned skin and dark chest hair.
“Why can’t we take the station wagon?” Robin asks. 
“I think Nancy already left,” you say. “Sorry, Rob.” 
“And I’ve put my car jacking days behind me,” Eddie announces, flinging his arms out. “So my van it shall be!”
Robin whips her head around to glare at Steve. 
“This is your fault,” she accuses scathingly.
“Me?!”
“You just had to go and get a flat tire yesterday.”
“Yeah, Steve,” you add cheekily. “Why couldn’t you have foreseen the dreaded timeline where Eddie drives?”
“Et tu?” Eddie asks. “I’m hurt. I’m a great driver, y’know. Better than Steve, some have told me.”
“Dustin only told you that ‘cause you were high on morphine and about to burst into tears,” Robin says.
As they bicker, Steve draws closer, so your arms brush. You close the distance, crowding him.
“Y’okay?” he asks quietly.
“Yes,” you say, startled. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Just checking.”
“Are you okay?”
He turns to you. He looks like he’s searching for something. You don’t know what.
“Yeah,” Steve says after a minute. “I am. Better than, actually.”
“‘Cause I’m here, right?” you ask with a gooey grin.
“Yeah. ‘Cause you’re here.”
He sounds honest, so you turn away, because you can’t handle that and his chest hair. 
"I should get to choose where we go," Robin says as you arrive at Eddie's van. "Since it may be our last trip and all."
"Funny you were in Band and not president of the drama club, Buckley," Eddie says dryly. 
"Pot, kettle."
"How 'bout Rita's?" you suggest. "Unlimited refills and no one will hassle Eddie."
"Aw, you care about little ol' me?" Eddie asks. 
"If you get us there in one piece, yes."
Eddie huffs. "No wonder you and the Hair are like this." He crosses his fingers. 
"Damn right," Steve says. "We even finish each other's—"
"Terribly cliche sayings!" you say. 
Robin looks at you for a moment, unusually smirky. Then she looks at Steve. 
"You match. Blue dress, blue tie."
"That's so if she gets lost, they know who to return her to," Steve says. 
You scoff. "More like the other way around." 
He pouts. "Hey."
"Hay is for horses," you sing, skipping ahead to Eddie's van. 
"I'm sorry, are you excited to ride in the Hell Van?" Robin asks. 
You shrug. "We could use some excitement around here, couldn't we?"
"No!" all three say.
"I've had enough excitement for ten lifetimes," Robin mutters. 
Eddie pulls the door open. Your smile quickly drops. 
"Uh, Eddie? Where the fuck are the seats?"
"Right, so, usually I only have Gareth and Jeff ride with me. Gareth always calls shotgun—"
"Shotgun!" Robin hollers, and races to the front seat. 
You stare at the single backseat chair. There's no way it's big enough for you and Steve. 
"Holy shit," Steve says, taking stock of the "backseat."
Eddie rubs the back of his neck. "Yeah… listen, if I'd known we'd be taking her, I would've put the other seat in, swear! Usually we take it out for the equipment." 
"Well, what are we supposed to do? Lay down and pray? This is how people get head injuries, Eddie," you say, arms folded. 
"Maybe we can call a cab," Steve suggests. 
"At this hour?" You shake your head. "No way. This isn't Indianapolis."
"Oh my God." Robin groans. "The solution is so obvious. Sit on Steve's lap. Boom. Now come on, I'm starving."
You tense. Steve is tactile, sure, and you've become acclimated to that over the years. 
But this? This is way, way beyond that. 
"Uh…" Steve glances at you. "Do you… I mean, if you don't mind?"
You glance at Eddie, who's got the tiniest smirk. You glower and he clears his throat, hiding his mouth behind a lock of hair. 
"I don't mind," you say, more confident than you feel. "It's a short drive."
Eddie nods. "Definitely. I'll step on it."
"Please don't step on it," Robin calls. "We're already chancing fate by letting you drive in the first place."
Eddie huffs, walking to the driver's side. "Y'know, Buckley, you are just…"
You look at Steve. He smiles at you, sweet as always. 
"This isn't gonna aggravate any injuries, right?" you ask. "Me… sitting on you?"
You wince at the wording. 
"No, should be fine. My PT gave me the all clear a month ago."
You nod tightly. "Right. Okay. You go first."
Steve climbs in, planting his feet on the floor. You go next, stooping in front of him. You catch each other's gaze for a moment. Then you laugh, suddenly trying to look anywhere but at Steve. 
"Right, so I'll just…"
You slide onto Steve's lap, trying to hold some of your weight so you won't crush him. He splays an easy hand over your belly and leans over to pull the van door shut. Your heart thunders in your chest. 
"You can sit back, y'know," he says, breath tickling your ear. "’M not made of glass."
"Didn't want your legs to go numb," you joke weakly. 
Steve makes an unhappy noise and tugs you back so you're fully seated on him. You angle yourself so you can look at him. Steve looks up at you, lightly tracing a pattern on your hip. Like you do this all the time. 
"Hi," you say, too jittery to crack another joke. 
Steve smiles gently. "Hey."
His tone is fond. You feel sick. 
"Everybody good?" Eddie asks. 
He adjusts the rear view mirror and you watch his eyebrows shoot up in the reflection. 
"You two look cozy."
"Shut the fuck up, Munson," you mumble. "Just drive, already." 
Eddie giggles like a gremlin in reply and turns the ignition.
It’s not bad, at first. Eddie takes it easy driving through Hawkins. Part of it is because he doesn’t want to attract attention. The other part is that Hopper promised Eddie a night in jail if he caught him running the stop signs again. 
You personally think it’s a bluff. Robin does not; she’s enthusiastically annoying about road safety, and points out every single sign and red light. This causes Eddie to start slamming the breaks in retaliation. 
“Holy fuck!” you yelp when Eddie hits the breaks particularly hard. “Eddie!”
Steve is quick to tug you backwards, considering you’re not belted. You scramble to grab his shoulders and twist to look at him.
“Thanks,” you say breathlessly.
He smiles, then leans away, glaring at the front.
“Really, Munson?”
“She started it!” Eddie insists. “Blame your BFF!”
“Can you drive like someone who doesn’t have a death wish?” Robin shoots back.
Steve’s hands are now on the small of your back and on your hip, respectively. Your legs hang over the side of the carseat, butt nestled quite firmly on his thighs. 
God, you’re never living this down. 
“Y’okay?” 
Steve’s breath in your ear makes you squirm. You turn to look at him.
“Fine,” you murmur. “I’m not crushing you, am I?”
“No,” he says. “Don’t worry.”
Eddie breaks again, harder than before. You slip. 
Steve reacts instantly, his hand grabbing the meat of your thigh. Your dress rides up, so it’s skin on skin. 
The momentum is worse, however, because you jerk back. Right into Steve’s face.
Your nose mashes into his, which isn’t great. But then, your lips smush against his cheek. When you pull back, there’s a smeared lipstick print.
Maybe you’re the one with a death wish.
Robin is screeching incoherently but you can't focus on anything but the smudge of pink on Steve's cheek. Your chest feels tight. 
He looks like he's yours.
"Yeah, we're fine, " Steve says, voice close enough to startle you back into the conversation. 
He looks up at you. Your hand lands on the lipstick, like if you cover it, it'll go away. Steve tilts his head, mouth open in a question. 
"Sorry," you rush out before he can speak. "I got some of my, uh, lipstick on you." 
He relaxes. 
"Oh. Thought I was bleeding or something," he says with a slight laugh. "'S okay, I can wipe it off when we get there."
"Uh-huh." 
You drop your hand. You can't stop staring. Stop staring.
The print isn't exactly in the shape of your lips, but it's close. You can see the divots and where your lips parted. If someone were to see you two, they'd assume a lot of things you're not. 
Steve's collar is wrinkled from the van ride from Hell. His neck is flushed. You wonder how your lipstick would look there. 
Eddie presses the brake, softer this time. Steve's fingers dig into the meat of your thigh anyway. More marks. 
"Alright, relax, gang," Eddie says. "We're almost there."
You touch Steve's cheek again and hope he'll forget to wash you off of his face. 
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iv. the secret
It's raining. You're in Steve's bed. 
Thunder shakes the sky. You curl further into your—Steve’s—pillow. It smells like his soap and detergent. 
You used to like the rain. Not so much these days. Rain makes you think of blood on asphalt and being alone at twenty-four. Rain silences you. 
"Do you think he'll come back?" 
You've never dared to ask anyone. Not even Joyce. She'd know. She wouldn't tell you the truth, though. 
Nancy Wheeler probably could. She'd face you with that steel brow of hers and give it to you straight. 
Yes. The monster's back. You're not getting married. 
You slip your hand into Steve’s. He squeezes your fingers. Outside, the rain roars. 
"I don't know," Steve says into the darkness. 
You can't see him like this. It makes you mildly claustrophobic. Maybe you should turn on the hall light. 
"Hopper said he was dead. So did that other guy—uh, Murray. And like, Eddie's okay. And Max. El would tell us if she sensed something. It's not like he could come back without making a sound. I mean, from what she told me, she basically, like, unraveled him from the inside out. Which is pretty gross, but also a good way to keep someone dead."
He's rambling. He's rambling to distract you. 
God, what the fuck are you going to do when you're twenty-four and unmarried and Steve's forgotten all about you? 
"I don't want anyone to die," you whisper. 
Steve squeezes your hand harder. 
"No one's gonna die."
You shift closer. You can barely make out Steve's silhouette. The ends of his hair tickle your knuckles. 
"Hey," he says, and you try to find his eyes, but you can't. "Nothing's gonna happen, okay?" 
"Yeah," you say, even though something did happen, something that almost took him away from you, and you don't know if you can handle that again. 
"You can stay here as long as you want," he says. 
"I can go back to my room."
Steve threads his fingers with yours. You can't see his eyes but it's okay.
"Don't," he says. 
"Okay."
You scoot forward, closing another few inches between you two. Now, you feel Steve's breath on your face. He smells like minty toothpaste. He is alive. 
The rain batters against the windows. You could kiss him. You could kiss him right now, and no one would know except for you and him. 
His breath has begun to even out. You lean in blindly. Your lips land on his hair. 
It's hardly a kiss. It’ll be your secret anyway.
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+ and, finally, the first.
"Dustin wanted chocolate milk," you say, not looking up from the tub of yogurt you're searching the date for. 
"Yeah," Steve says, parking the cart to the side. "Kid's addicted."
He opens the giant fridge door and a burst of cold air nips at your arm. You shy away. 
"Six dollars? Jesus, does it come from gold cows?"
You snort, finally putting the yogurt in the cart. You stay at Steve’s house more often than not these days, so there’s no point in getting a separate cart.
"What?" Steve asks, looking at you. 
"You're funny, that's what."
"I am?"
"You sound like somebody's grandpa."
"I do not!"
"Do too," you say sweetly. 
"Do not."
"Do too infinity."
Steve rolls his eyes. 
"Yeah, whatever. I'm a grandpa 'cause I don't wanna spend a leg and an arm on chocolate milk for the little shit? So be it."
"Steve," you begin, eyebrows drawing together. "It's his birthday. Have a heart, old man." 
"Oh, good grief," he mumbles, but he takes the carton and puts it into the cart. 
You smile. Steve shakes his head. 
"This is why I don't go shopping with you. You're an enabler."
"I am," you say happily, walking alongside him as he pushes the cart. 
"And you don't push the cart."
You tut. "Pretty girls don't push shopping carts, Steven." 
"Oh, they just find some poor sap to push it for them, huh?" 
"I'm so glad you're on board," you say, skipping ahead to the chip aisle. 
You look through the shelves and land on two types of Doritos. Cool Ranch and Original. It’s a tough decision.
“Steve, what do you think?” You hold up the bags. “Which do they like better?”
“Ranch. According to Mike, liking the original flavors of snacks is lame.”
You snicker and take three bags of the Cool Ranch. Steve pushes the cart to you. 
“I feel like we’re shopping for our kid,” you say. “We’re the awesome house everybody wants to visit because we have the best snacks and the biggest pool.”
You look up when Steve doesn’t reply. He stares at you, expression unreadable. Your smile dims.
“What?” you ask.
Steve shakes his head.
“Nothing,” he says quietly. “It’s nothing.”
“Steve, seriously. What is it?”
He shakes his head again. 
“Nothing, really. Just zoned out for a second.”
He continues to push the cart down the aisle. You watch him for a moment, then follow. The two of you quickly check off the remaining items on Steve’s list (yes, his actual, physical grocery list), and then you check out.
The cashier smiles at you both in line. She’s an older woman, with the typical poofy blowout nearly every woman over fifty gets at Brenda’s Salon in downtown Hawkins. You busily put the items on the conveyor belt while Steve takes out his wallet and makes conversation with the cashier. It’s a good routine you two have established. 
When the cashier’s done, you squeeze past the cart and grab half of the bags. Steve takes the receipt and the rest of the bags.
“You two are very sweet together,” the cashier says, her round cheeks blush-red like apples. “Have a wonderful day.”
“You too, ma’am,” Steve replies, and heads to the exit.
You’re frozen for a moment, startled until Steve calls your name. You heft the bags in your arms and hurry after him. 
Steve stops and takes two of your bags before crossing the parking lot. 
“Steve,” you say, and huff. “I can carry them.”
“Pretty girls don’t push carts or carry bags. It’s the rule, remember?”
You watch, unimpressed, as Steve then proceeds to try and get his car keys with an armful of grocery bags. When he almost drops a bag for the third time, you sigh and take pity. 
“Which pocket?” you ask, snaking your arm around.
“Back left,” he says, smiling sheepishly.
You roll your eyes, feeling disgustingly fond. You shove your hand down Steve’s back jean pocket. He wiggles his eyebrows at you.
“Take me out to dinner at least,” he says.
“Pretty boys don’t get taken to dinner until the pretty girl has been asked out properly,” you shoot back. 
Steve smiles, but the joke doesn’t land like it usually does. You step away as soon as you get the keys, clearing your throat. 
“Well, I hope you’ve learned your lesson about carrying all the bags, Popeye.”
You open the trunk for him, then go to open the passenger side door.
“If I don’t carry all the bags, how else am I meant to show off to the ladies?”
You pull the handle on the driver’s side for Steve and he gets in, beaming cheekily at you.
“The only person who’s watching you make a fool of yourself is me, big guy,” you say. “So, mission failed.”
You open the glove compartment and start fishing through for gum. You find a Juicy Fruit packet but it’s empty. 
“Damn, that’s what we forgot,” you say, defeatedly crumpling the cardboard. “Gum.”
You start to turn to Steve. “Do you think we—”
You’ve wondered, probably more than you should, about how Steve Harrington kisses. 
Now you know: tenderly. 
He cups both sides of your face, and you have to brace yourself on the center console for balance. Your other hand tangles in his hair. It’s as soft as you imagined, free of product, and you scrunch the baby hairs at the base of his scalp. Steve makes a quiet noise. 
You kiss until you need air. Even then, Steve doesn’t let you go far. You part with only an inch or two between you. 
“There’s gum in the middle compartment,” is the first thing he says.
“Huh?”
“In here.” He pats the compartment between the seats. “Hubba Bubba. I got it last week.”
You giggle and grab Steve’s face with both hands. His hands slip to your arms and he squeezes, smiling gently.
“What?” he asks.
“Fuck, I’m glad I know you,” you say. 
Steve kisses you again. Two. Steve Harrington has officially kissed you two times. 
You hope you’ll lose track at some point.
2K notes · View notes
i was thinking a whiskey if you please? :) with a side of a bbf!steve rogers? (brother’s best friend and that brother is bucky) idk recently i’ve found similarities in my physical appearance to bucky so it was just a random thought lol- but basically steve is a sweetheart towards the reader and that causes her to crush on him (and ofc cause he’s hot) and the prompt could be "Let him watch." (him being bucky 🤭)
Let Him Watch.
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warnings - cursing. allusions to sexual content.
my love, I hope you don't mind, but I decided to make this a college!au. the idea of college bucky and steve is just so delicious to me I couldn't resist <3
3k celebration post here. 3k masterlist here.
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A party. A one off visit. The boy you've been in love with since you were a kid.
Your brothers best friend.
The notorious frat boy who's always had a soft spot for you.
There's so many people in this house, you can barely stand. Bass bouncing, bodies moving, sweat dripping down backs. Lights flashing, drinks flowing, hands roaming and exploring.
You're sandwiched between two strangers when you feel a solo cups worth of liquid pour down your back, drenching you. You gasp and turn around, but can't find the culprit. Looking around the room, you search for Bucky, hoping he'll give you the key to his room so you can grab a new shirt from your overnight bag.
You fight your way through the crowd, desperate to find your brother. You can see what seems like a thousand frat boys, not one of them the one you want.
"Are you okay?" someone shouts at you, warm hand finding your shoulder.
It's Steve, who looks a little concerned, crease etched in between his brows.
"Someone threw a drink down my back," you yell back. "I can't find Bucky!"
"He's with Nat, in the backyard. Come with me."
Before you can protest, he's intertwining his fingers with yours, pulling you upstairs.
You've never been in Steve's room at college. Back home, you've been in it a thousand times, but this is different. This is a place for grown up Steve, not a kid anymore Steve. This feels more sacred, somehow.
"Sorry about the mess."
You look around, and can't understand what he's talking about. The place is virtually spotless, everything neat and tidy.
"You're the least messy person I know, Steve."
He laughs and opens his closet, searching through his clothes.
"Which one? Green or blue?"
He holds up two shirts, one in each hand, offering them to you.
"Blue, please. It'll go with my skirt better."
You take it from him, a tiffany coloured tee with ROGERS written on the back. You remember him wearing it, at a practise football tournament a couple of years back.
Without thinking, you peel your wet shirt over your head, standing in front of Steve in your bra. The beer you've been sipping on has lowered your inhibitions, bravery coursing through your veins.
His eyes roam over you before he shakes his head, diverting his gaze.
"You're so beautiful," he mumbles. "Most beautiful girl in the world."
You look at him incredulously, unsure if you heard him correctly.
"What?"
"You heard me. I've never met anyone as pretty as you."
"Steve, you're drunk."
"No drunker than you are."
He takes a step towards you, trailing his fingertips up your arm.
"Shouldn't you be with some college cheerleader or something?" you whisper.
He laughs, low and warm.
"I haven't slept with anyone since I got here."
You scoff.
"You've been here for months. I don't believe that for a second."
"It's true. I've been too busy thinking about-"
He cuts himself off, dancing his fingers up to rest against your cheek. He cradles your face in his hand, looking at you seriously.
"I can't stop thinking about you."
"Me?" you whisper in disbelief.
"Yes, you. I know it's not fair on Bucky, but I don't know what else to do. It's not my fault his sister is so easy to fall in love with."
"You love me?" you choke out, eyes welling with tears. You take a breath to try and ground yourself, half convinced you're dreaming.
"I think I've loved you for years. Do you know how excited I was when Bucky said you were coming to visit? Most exciting thing to happen to me in months. I really miss you."
"I miss you too. So much. It's surprisingly hard being apart."
"I don't want to hurt Bucky," he murmurs.
"Me neither. That's the last thing I want to do. Ever."
"But I'm also sick of denying what I want."
He lunges forward and captures your lips, pulling you into him. It's tender and sweet and full of so many years of things unsaid.
You pull away to rest your forehead on his, breathing him in.
"I love you too, by the way," you whisper against his lips.
The grin he gives you is so bright, it's like looking at the sun. He is your sun. Your light in the dark. The only boy you've ever loved.
A harsh knock on the door startles you both.
"Steve, it's Sam! You in there? I need you to be my beer pong partner!"
"I'll, uh, I'll be out in a second!" Steve yells back.
"Come on, hotshot. They're wondering where you are," you chuckle, leaning up to kiss him chastely.
You throw his shirt on and check your reflection in the mirror, turning around when you hear Steve groan.
"What?"
"You look so good in my clothes."
"Control yourself, Rogers, or else Bucky's going to see."
"Let him watch," he winks, grinning when you laugh.
He links your hands and pulls you out of the door, ready to accept the inevitable consequences of being in love with his best friends sister.
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Text
Here's to Us | A Strangers Things FanFiction
Chapter 1
Next
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Flickering lights and a blonde with a nose bleed sends Joan Destiny back in time to 1985 as Joan Agatha, supposedly her aunt whose existence she had never heard about before. A fan of Back to the Future and Doctor Who, Joan knows how changing the course of the future could end for her, so she decides to act the part - no matter how hard it can be. Between Russians, drug dealers, and interdimensional monsters Joan is left with one question...
ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴊᴏᴀɴ ᴀɢᴀᴛʜᴀ? ¿ɐɥʇɐɓ∀ uɐoſ oʇ pǝuǝddɐɥ ʇɐɥM
October 12, 2022 Hawkins High School
The moment she had first gained consciousness into the world, Joan felt like she didn't belong in the skin she possessed. From her first word being actually a sentence-long-event far past the age of first words - her parents and doctor labeled her on the spectrum - to the way she belted out random songs in the hallways, Joan never felt like she belonged.
"Y-you could talk this entire time? Why didn't you say anything?"
"I had nothing to say."
Her existence felt itchy like an electric current rushing through her veins constantly and it only dulled down when she was doing something, anything, everything. Joan needed to move, to think, to feel that weird fuzzy thing on the wall that the other girls sneered at in disgust. Her brain ran constantly and her notebooks were filled with stories of a near terrifying magnitude.
"An overactive imagination, she's six, it's normal for kids her age."
"Honey, she wrote about someone being murdered..."
Joan lived for chaos because that was the only way to calm the electricity in her veins. Her ears were always plugged with music blaring through her eardrums to break up the silent hell, a chewed up pencil in hand to keep her teeth from grinding, and a bouncing leg to release the pent of energy.
"Wanna see me jump out the window and see what Ms. Thompson says?"
"Joan, we're on the second floor!"
And today was no different for the girl as she sat at the head of one of the lunch room tables, scribbling away in her notebooks like maniac. It was almost complete and it would be complete by 3:15pm today which was only a few hours away. It needed to be perfect, the best, well polished and-
"Joan?" A hand landed on her shoulder and Joan jumped in shock, looking around in a panic to see a familiar face - or well three - behind her. Joan tugged one AirPod out, her music pausing as she scowled. 
The other two seniors besides Joan were Ryan and Bryan, and the two were twins in everything but family and looks. Blond hair dyed green versus raven hair, they shared the same braincell amongst one another, finished each other's sentences unnaturally well, and did everything together since birth. The two were annoying little shits, but Joan didn't mind their company.
The weirdos were born a day from each other.
And Harry was the sophomore little sibling of Ryan, who joined the club at Ryan's polite threat, not that he really needed threatening. He was fine with joining, not like he would make friends anywhere else with his weird glass eye.
"What the hell, Bryan?!" She snapped out and slammed the notebook closed violently. The boys only snickered, each taking a seat at the table and setting down their lunches in front of them. "You know better than to sneak up on me, you jerk!"
"You shouldn't have your music up so loud anyways, Jo. What if there was a fire?"
"If I die, I die." Joan said simply with a roll of her eyes and her leg started bouncing again. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a hand sneaking over towards her notebook and she was quick to whack the hand and earned a satisfying fuck! in return. "Ryan, me boy, you know better than to touch my things."
"God, Jo. Do you have to be so violent?!" Ryan moaned while rubbing his hand dramatically. "That's going to bruise!"
"Baby." The boy next to him snickered with mouthful of sandwich. "Shoulda been quick- ooof!" Some sandwich  left the kids mouth as Ryan's elbow found its way into his rib. "What the fuck, Ryan!"
"What the fuck, Ryan!" Ryan imitated in a high pitch voice with a roll of his eyes, dodging the return shove his way. "Grow up Harry. It was your idea anyways."
"Are you trying to get me killed?!" Harry hissed out, his eyes darting to Joan who's own eyes were starting to narrow further and further with each second. "Look, Jo, we just wanted a sneak peak-."
"No. Non. Nyet. Nein. No, but in Spanish. And how about this no." Joan snapped out, making an X with her arms, shaking her head, and finishing with the sign language for No to emphasize her point. The boys flinched as her arm jolted out and pointed at each one of them. "None of you get to see anything until it's all done, understand?!"
"But, what about-."
"Just one peek-!"
"All I need is-!"
Joan's hands slammed down on the table, the cafeteria going silent as she stood up and stared down coldly into Ryan's eyes. "Do. You. Understand?"
"Geez, yes, okay!" Ryan snapped out, pushing the girl away from his face and look around at the obviously staring faces with nervousness all over him. Even though the girl could seemingly ignore the snickers and whispers around them, Ryan still had problems with the attention being on him at any time of day. "Just-just sit down and stop drawing attention to us!"
Joan rolled her eyes but listened all the same, plopping down into her chair unceremoniously and taking out her other AirPod, shoving them into their case. Another tray joined in next to Bryan and everyone visibly relaxed as the empty seat filled with a familiar pink skirt and long legs, and the cafeteria volume slowly increased.
"What'd I miss?" 
"Oh, God, Brynnyn. Thank fuck."  Harry hissed out throwing his head back as if he was thanking God personally. "Joan was going mental."
"Is she not always going mental?" Brynnyn smirked over at her friends, the chuckles going around at Joan's rolling eyes and scoff of disbelief. "What'd they do this time?"
"They tried to steal my notebook." Joan said passionately, lifting up the fancy leather-bound book in emphasis as if it were criminal evidence in court. She shook it lightly. "My notebook, Bryn!"
"Oh, you poor thing." Brynnyn mocked with a jutted out lip. Harry covered his mouth to hide his snicker and looked away at Joan's glare. "Can you blame them? You were pretty brutal last time."
Brynnyn was their resident cheerleader, a junior, and joined the group of misfits her sophomore year after some pleading from Joan. The ginger-haired, dark skin girl had grown up around the crazy brunette - their parents were close - so it didn't take much convincing, her only request was that Brynnyn could do cheer as a priority, much to Joan's chagrin.
Joan sniffed, pushing the notebook into her bag jerkily to hide it safely from peeping eyes. "You guys just don't appreciate true art."
"It's because we appreciate living." Bryan whispered none to quietly under his breath his own eyes rolling at the glance his way. "Oh come on Joan. You know you're being a bitch."
"Blah blah blah, what a bunch of whimps." Joan grumbled, crossing her arms as if she were a child and slouching down into her seat with legs opening obnoxiously wide. "Babies, the lot of you."
Ryan kicked Joan's legs closed with his foot. "You're wearing a fucking skirt, Jo! Stop spreading like that!" 
"Ugh, whatever." Joan moaned out, pushing her knees together and smacking her head onto the table, the pain soothing to her brain. "I'm never wearing anything other than pants after today ever again."
It was too quiet after that, no one knew what to say, and the silence made the itch stronger. Without the music, or the scrawling on paper, or bouncing around... Joan was left with an ache in her bones. 
"God, you ever think about just bashing your head against the cement walls over and over and over and-."
"Jesus Christ, Jo!"
"-over and over and-"
"No!"
"-over and-"
"Literally no one, dude..."
"-and over again?" Joan ignored the others and enjoyed the coolness of the table on her cheek and shut her eyes to listen to the vibrations around her. "Ever wonder about the people who walked these halls before us? Like, how many dead people you think used to go here?"
"Shit, also that weird stuff in the 80's our parents refuse to talk about... I'd say maybe at least one." Harry pointed out. "My parents never talk about it thought."
"Well considering this school is older than our parents..." Ryan trailed off, fingers drumming on the table, and leg bouncing in response to Harry. "I assume at least three."
"That sounds mathematically sound." Brynnyn snorted and spooned some peas into her mouth. She didn't bother to swallow before finishing her comment. "It's a wonder how your not in AP Calculus already, Ri-Ri."
"It's because there was no room available!" Ryan insisted with wide eyes. He looked around at his friends frantically. "Seriously, guys. I tried to take it, but they were already full."
"Take what?" A pile of red hair piped up, joining the table next to Brynnyn quietly with a metal Star Wars lunchbox clanking on the table. He opened it slowly and took out the sandwich and celery inside with a matching water bottle on the side. 
"Ryan here is saying he totally tried to get into AP Calc with the rest of us seniors, but the dude was too late to get in." Joan filled him in with a smile, before waving her fingers over at the kid. "Hey, Caleb. Where's your better half?"
"H-hey, Joan." Caleb returned the wave with a chuckle, before digging into his sandwich. "I-uh, she's sick today. Kaleigh had some kind of a weird headache and stayed home today."
Joan frowned at that, eyebrows furrowing in concern. "Is she okay? This is like the fifth time."
"Yeah, just the seasonal pressure getting to her head." Caleb waved the concern away with his free hand, seemingly unconcerned. "It happens every year, she's fine. But, uh, what's with the skirt?"
"My stupid grandparents are in town." Joan said dramatically, leaning back to balance on the back two legs of her chair to keep her mind occupied. Her friends nodded in understanding, but Caleb's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
Ryan glanced over at the boy and leaned over the table to fill him in. "Her mom's a Mormon-"
"Was a Mormon."
"-and her grandparents still are, obviously. So whenever they visit she has to wear dresses and skirts." 
Caleb blinked at the explanation, nodding slowly as he took in the information. He wanted to ask why, but figured by Joan's bad mood that asking would only worsen her mood. And he too enjoyed life. But Joan was still worried about the youngest girl, this was her third time this month missing school due to a headache and it put a strange ripple of anxiety through her stomach at the thought.
Caleb and Kaleigh had joined the club at the start of the school year, having been swiped up quickly by the group after recognizing what Joan called the stench of fear cause by suffering from nerd-syndrome, and they fit in like a puzzle piece. She constantly referred to the the group as her babies and children, going above and beyond for the freshmen.
They were small, yet mighty continuing the small group that had gone on for decades with legacy after legacy keeping it alive. Today was Wednesday, which meant they were all wearing the signature baseball shirt designed way back in the 80's. 
"Can't we just get a glimpse of the new campaign, or-or even a hint?" Ryan pleaded with his hands laced together and a poor attempt of a puppy dog face. Joan's nose scrunched up in distaste at the look. "Come on."
"At least tell us the monsters! The version! Or-!"
"Who's the antagonist? Is there multiple? Will the Tarrasque come back-!"
"Is it a fresh new map that I can draw out?! I've got a great idea for-!"
"Are we doing ocean this time?! I reall-!"
"No! No!" Joan shook her head violently, the metal hanging on her ears clinking together and the group paused their shouts as the girl shoved her hands over her ears and blocked them out. Once she was sure they were done pestering, she carefully removed her hands, ready to throw them back on in a moments notice. "I told you guys we'll talk about it tonight at Hellfire!" 
The Hellfire club was one of the few clubs that stayed active since the early 80's and would frequently come close to dying out until some weirdos like the ones who wore the shirt proudly in that moment stepped in to fill up the table once again. It was the black sheep of the school coming together to unify, from lonely cheerleader to Cyber Team loser, they were all equals when it came to DnD.
Joan was a tough DM - having learned from the best before her - but the way her brain seemed to never quite turn off properly made campaigns the most fun anyone ever had. It was impressive to watch her deepen her voice into that of a strong yet dumb ogre of the swamps or lift it up with a heavy accent like she was a forest fairy, dainty and fragile with a hint of foreign something they could never name.
Stubborn, crazy, but above all fiercely loyal and protective of her friends, Joan was a force of nature known to bruise her own knuckles on anyone who thought they could get away with messing with any of her children.
Later in the afternoon, she stared from the DM seat over at her friends filling the table with happy chats, a small smile filled her face and she stilled. For one happy moment the electricity stopped coursing through her veins and the beating in her heart smoothed to a near normal beat, and she sighed quietly.
If she belonged anywhere it was here with her friends after school in a near empty building, her notebook out in front of her, more dies then needed out on the table, and boxes of pizza half-hazardly thrown around the theatre room.
"Alright, my flesh bags, let us-!"
Joan was cut off by flickering lights and she frowned, the electric feeling flowing through her faster than ever. Nervously, she licked her lips when the lights didn't quit flashing and looked around at the scared faces in front of her.
'"I-it's probably just some f-faulty bulbs, guys. It's a shitty old school." Joan tried to be the voice of reason as eyes looked towards her as the leader. She felt a hitch in her throat - she was only 17, not even an adult yet, why were they looking at her?! - and cleared it away. "Look, they're some lanterns in the cabinet over there from some stupid play. We can get those and-."
Screams cut her off as the door to the theater slammed open loudly, the club members scrambling out of their seats to get far, far away from the opened door. The lights flickered faster and a breezed flew down Joan's spine as she carefully got up with narrowing eyes at the newcomer.
"Kaleigh?" Joan asked slowly, taking a step towards the freshman and examine the girl. Kaleigh seemed to be looking through her instead of at her with muddy bare feet and unbearably wide eyes. "Jesus, 'Leigh! Your nose is bleeding!"
Kaleigh didn't answer, instead stepping into the room and walking slowly towards Joan whose frown deepened with every step. Eventually the feeling of danger passed through her mind and Joan started taking a step back with every step forward.
"Kaleigh? Dude, chill out. I-If this is about you dying in the last campaign, I promise this one is a lot nice- oh shit!" Joan cried out dodging the table that flew her way like magic. Her eyes followed the table as it crashed into the far theater wall and then snapped back to Kaleigh who continued her trek. "Yo, freshmeat! Wake up, it's me, Joan! Maybe you should have been a wizar- fuck!"
Joan was thrown up against the wall next to the table, the feeling of breathing leaving her as soon as her back slammed against the wall, and she stared hopelessly down at the tiny girl in front of her while clawing at her own throat.
There were no other words, no explanations nor goodbyes, only Kaleigh's head jerking up and Joan's world went black. Her last thoughts bouncing around like an echo. 
Knew s-she was a fucking wizard.
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stevie-petey · 3 months
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episode five: dig dug
“You like Y/N?” Dustin asks at the same time as you ask, “You like me?” Steve rolls his eyes. “Yeah, barely. She’s on thin ice. But you, little Henderson? You just stole the flowers meant for my girlfriend, so backseat you go.” “Yes!” You cheer, pumping your fist in the air as you flash Steve a smile. “Thanks, Harrington.” He rounds the front of his car and opens the driver's side door. “Yeah, don’t get used to it. Like I said, you’re still on thin ice.”
Summary: you and dustin bury a body and con your mother into fleeing town, great sibling bonding time ! you play hockey with a monster, dustin gets ghosted by his friends, and now it's your turn to kidnap steve (technically dustin does, but you don't stop him) who later gives you some terrifying realizations.
Rating: general, swearing and slight violence
Warnings: blood, use of y/n, fem!reader, animal cruelty technically, weapons, cursing
Words: 7.5k
Before you swing in: hello ! late chapter update, but here ya go lovelies !! lots has happened recently, i got a sick ass job and im super excited and :))) so updates will definitely slow down again some more, but i promise i will update whenever possible. for now, please enjoy !
“Remember how angry I was at you about hiding El from me last year?”
“Yeah?”
“Visualize the anger, multiply it by ten, and then take three steps back from me.”
Dustin trips over his feet to scramble away from you.
You’re currently in your own room, the door locked, with Dustin standing several feet away now as he heeds your warning. Never in your life have you felt such rage before, such blinding fury, and you thought you knew what anger was when your dad left.
But this? This is a new type of anger, one you know that only the older sister to Dustin Henderson could ever feel.
As soon as Dart had lifted its head up at you and screeched, you’d immediately snatched your brother’s hand into yours and ran out the door, door slamming behind you. Now, you’re hiding out in your room with no fucking clue what to do.
“You killed our cat.”
“Technically Dart did.” You glare at Dustin. You had actually liked Mews, she was the sweetest cat in the world and a gift for your fifth birthday. Your brother, sensing he’s only digging a deeper hole for himself, coughs. “I mean… Yeah. I killed our cat.”
Stepping back, you find your desk chair against your legs and fall into the seat. Exhaustion sweeps over you. There’s no time to grieve the loss of your cat. Not when there’s a baby demogorgon in Dustin’s room eating said cat’s corpse still. “What do we even do in this situation?”
“Not tell mom?” Again, you glare at Dustin and he squeaks in fear. “Well I mean, that’s all I can think of right now!”
A headache forms. “I should’ve gone with Jonathan and Nancy.”
Dustin thinks for a moment. “Where did they go, anyways?”
“No. You don’t get to ask any questions right now.”
“Yes ma’am.”
You sigh, a vague idea forming in your mind. “Okay, first we need get Mews out of the room. She was mom’s favorite child, we can’t just leave her in there to be diminished to bones.”
Dustin nods. “Obviously. We can do that… right?”
“We have to. Once she’s out of there, we just… leave Dart in there. At least for now. It’s already late in the afternoon and we need so much help from the party.”
“We can’t tell the party–”
“You’re right. We can’t,” Dustin sighs with relief, but you give him an evil smile. “But you can tell the party. You’ll radio everyone tomorrow, clean the house, and make a plan from there.”
Dustin tries to argue, but you hold a hand up. “You brought a baby demogorgon into our house. You lost every arguing privilege there is to lose.”
He groans, knowing you’re right. Next time, he’ll be better at hiding things from you because you’re a total buzzkill whenever you inevitably find out.
Together, the two of you hatch a plan. You’ll walk into Dustin’s room first, knives out and ready just in case, and Dustin will follow once the coast is clear. Then, he’ll lure Dart away from Mews’ body with chocolate (you don’t want to ask why), and once he’s gone you’ll snatch your cat’s body and flee the room immediately afterwards.
It’s a good plan.
That is, if it works.
“Ready?” You’re standing in front of Dustin’s door, your knives flicked open in your hand, ready for possible war with a foot long little demon.
Your brother pats your shoulder. “Don’t die, sis.”
“I’m holding knives as we speak. Touch me again and die.”
“I hope Dart eats your face.”
You smile. “There’s my brother. Okay, as soon as I’m inside the room, close the door. Then, when I knock three times, open it again and enter.”
“Wait for two knocks–”
“Three.”
“Three knocks. Right.”
You steady your breathing. Around the corner, you can hear your mom humming to herself as she makes dinner. She has no clue what’s going on, and you envy her for it. Your hand on Dustin’s door knob twists slowly, then, before you can psych yourself out, you turn the knob and throw yourself inside.
Quickly the door slams behind you, so at least Dustin did something right.
Your eyes, which had previously been squeezed shut, open slowly. When you don’t see any sign of Dart, you exhale. So far, so good. You walk towards the couch and find the creature still eating away at your dead cat, which you gag at.
Poor Mews.
You rap your knuckles against the door three times, alerting Dustin to come inside.
He opens the door and walks in, his hands fisted against his face as if that would do anything to keep him safe. You roll your eyes and flick his head, which he whines at. “Grab the chocolate and distract Dart, please.”
Dustin runs over to his desk and grabs a Musketeers bar. When you see the candy’s name, you want to slam your head against the wall. You know exactly why the monster’s name is Dart.
“Let me guess,” you say, your tone mocking. “D’Artagnan?”
“Don’t you have a corpse to collect?”
You scoff at him but step aside so that he can dangle the chocolate in Dart’s face. You watch, alert for any signs of danger in case you need to step in, but the monster seems to be pretty friendly with Dustin. You guess they really did create a bond.
Once Dart is far enough away from Mews, you run over and snatch up her body. You try not to think about the possible cat guts now all over your sweater. That will be a later issue. Like a lot of things in your life recently.
“Go, go, go!” You push Dustin towards the door.
He doesn’t need to be told twice, throwing the last piece of the candy bar at Dart’s face and running out the door right behind you. Once you’re both out the room with the door closed, you both lean against the wall and exhale deeply.
“Good job. Now onto phase two.”
Dustin makes a face. “Why do I have to distract mom?”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” you hold up Mews’ bloody body. “Do you want to be the one to hold our dead cat?”
“Good point, I’ll go distract mom.” Dustin leaves, rounding the corner to go hopefully distract your poor mother in a sane way. With your luck, Dustin will spew some weird bullshit that will only make her more worried than she already is.
Right on cue, you hear Dustin say from the kitchen. “Mom, I think I broke my arm.”
The scream of fear your mom lets out would’ve been comedic had you not been holding her beloved dead cat.
Your mother runs around the kitchen, fretting over your brother, and the second she isn’t looking, you slip out the front door and quickly throw Mews’ body into your bush. You feel a bit bad about that, but there’s nowhere else to hide her body in broad daylight.
When you walk back inside, Dustin is being swaddled by your mother. “What did I miss?”
“Oh, Y/N!” Your mom sighs. “Dusty said he thought he broke his arm, but the silly boy seems to be okay.”
Dustin pats her back. “Ha, right. Silly me!”
Your mom looks up and then squints a bit, eying your sweater. You look down and your heart drops. It’s covered in Mews’ blood.
Fuck.
“Y/N, what’s that all over your sweater?”
“Paint!” You say while Dustin sputters, “Ketchup!”
“We… Were painting with ketchup.” You lie, sending a quick glare your brother’s way. Out of everything red, why ketchup?
“Oh, alright.” Your mom looks uncertain, but doesn’t say anything else about it. “Well, dinner is almost ready. Why don’t you go wash up, honey?”
The second you’re dismissed, you run into your room and yank the sweater off. You’ll burn it tomorrow. First chance you get.
A few seconds later, there’s a knock on your door before Dustin’s head pokes inside. “Dinner’s done.”
“Great. Holding your dead cat definitely works up an appetite.”
“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” Dustin tries to play it off, but you see the genuine upset in his eyes. He hadn’t meant to hurt anyone, and you know he loved Mews too.
You sigh and walk over to him and kiss his curls. “It’s okay. Next time, let’s not hide a monster from the Upside Down, yeah?”
“Deal.”
Dustin spends the night in your room, which you explain to your mom as needing some “serious bonding time”. She tears up at this, unaware of the fact that you’ll be making your brother sleep on the floor as punishment.
The next morning you and Dustin hatch yet another plan: get mom out of the house. Before you two can do anything else, you both agree that your mom cannot be anywhere near Dart. Plus, she’s already noticed Mews’ absence, so it’s only a matter of time before she finds the body in the bush.
“Alright, you’ll fake the phone call while I start gathering the supplies.” You tell Dustin while your mom calls for Mews outside. She’s at the bottom of the driveway, Mews’ favorite toy in her hand, shaking it around, unaware that the cat’s dead body is in the bush next to her.
“Got it. You remember where my old hockey suit is?” You nod at Dustin’s question, and he’s about to say something else before he sees your mom start walking back towards the house. “Shit! Game time, go!”
Dustin fumbles for the phone and you run to the living room closet. Just as you’ve entered your positions, your mom walks through the front door.
“Mewsy! Dusty, Y/N, sweethearts, you’re sure she’s not in your rooms?”
“No, mom.” You shake your head at her.
Holding up a finger, Dustin presses the phone to his ear and motions for the woman to remain quiet. “Uh-huh. Thank you so much, Mr. McCorkle. Thank you so much, you are a true lifesaver.”
You can’t help but roll your eyes. He’s laying it on pretty thick.
“Alright, this was great. Thank you, have a good one. Bye-bye now, all right. You too.” Dustin pretends to hang up the phone and smiles at your mom. “Alright, great news!”
“They found her?” Tears of joy lace your mother’s voice. You have to turn away, you know she’d notice the discomfort on your face. It feels horrible to be lying to your mother like this.
Dustin seems to be thinking the same thing, because he lowers his voice and gently approaches her. “No, but they saw her wandering around Loch Nora.”
More tears flow down your mom’s face. “How did the poor baby get all the way over there?”
“I don’t know, lost I guess. But they’re gonna look for her, and–and Y/N and I will stay here, just in case they call again. Right, Y/N?”
“Right!” You call from the closet, now quickly grabbing everything you can think of. Would a hammer be necessary?
“And you’re gonna go help look. Yeah?” Dustin’s only response is a relieved hug from your crying mother. “Yeah, give me a hug. Go get her!”
Your mom quickly composes herself and grabs her glasses. She presses a kiss to your forehead and seems to be in better spirits. “We’ll find her!”
“Mews will be home soon, mom!” You cheer, and your mom blows you another kiss.
“I love you,” Dustin sends her a thumbs up.
“I love you, kids.” And with that, your mom clutches her purse to her chet and sends one final kiss your way before shutting the door behind her.
As soon as the door shuts, you and Dustin scramble. Dustin heads to the backyard to open your cellar doors and you grab the remaining hockey gear from the closet. While you drag the uniform out to the living room, your brother begins to look through the fridge for any possible bait.
“Think Dart would like bologna?” Dustin calls over his shoulder as he digs around.
You groan, dropping the heavy goalie pads. “Last I checked, he wasn’t my secret Upside Down pet.”
“Touche.”
Dustin grabs the bologna and starts making a trail from his room towards the front door. While he does that, you start sorting through your own pile of gear, soccer to be specific. Dustin liked hockey, you preferred warmer sports. As you’ve finished lacing up your cleats and shin pads, Dustin returns.
“Okay, the bait is all set up. Got my hockey stick?”
You hand him what he needs. “Here, and your helmet is on the couch.”
Dustin gets ready and you retrieve some oven mitts from the kitchen. When you hand them to the boy, he looks at you like you’re insane. “What? Extra protection. Can’t hurt.”
He sighs and swipes them from your hand, putting them on. Once he’s ready, you help him stand up. He looks ridiculous in his old hockey gear, but you suppose you don’t look any better with your shin pads and Dustin’s spare shoulder pads.
“Alright. We all set?”
Dustin pats his helmet. “Ready.”
You walk towards his room, and once you’re there, Dustin pushes past you and bends down a bit so he can speak through his keyhole. “Alright, Dart. Breakfast time.”
“Do we have to mention breakfast right before we set him free?" You mumble, but your brother ignores you.
Slowly, he reaches towards the door handle and then flings it open. As soon as the door has been moved, Dustin practically knocks you to the ground in his haste to escape. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!”
His mantra reminds you of Steve’s from last year at Jonathan’s. Seems like the two boys have something in common: they’re idiots.
You follow quickly behind Dustin, terrified but at least trying to hide it, while your brother just repeats “oh my god”, and “shit” over and over again as he stumbles over the bait and out towards the front door.
If the situation wasn’t so grave, you’d be giggling at how dumb Dustin looks waddling over bologna on the floor. However, Dart could very well be right behind you, so you run after the kid equally as terrified.
“Shit, shit, shit, shit–”
By this point, you’re nearing the tool shed outside.
“I will push you down these stairs Dustin Henderson.”
Dustin shuts up and, as soon as you’re inside the shed as well, locks it behind him. Once he’s sure you’re all cleared, he lets out a breath of relief. “Okay, now we wait.”
You walk towards the wood panels, squinting as you peek through a gap to see outside. “I don’t see anything.”
Dustin does the same. “Come on, I know you’re hungry…”
Everything remains still outside, and you’re starting to worry that maybe Dart doesn’t like bologna after all, until you see his scaly body walk out the door. He gobbles down the bologna pieces one by one, which you cringe at.
“Yeah. He likes bologna, alright.”
Dustin silently cheers. “Yes! Yes, yes, yes!”
Dart makes his way down the trail, eating every piece he finds, and soon he scampers down the steps and hovers over the cellar doors. In an odd way, the little guy is kinda cute if you forget about the fact that he killed your cat.
“Yes, yes, yes!” Dustin continues to chant as you watch Dart. The creature just has one more piece of bologna left, he just needs to take a few more steps inside before you can slam the doors shut.
But, because nothing can ever be easy for you, Dart suddenly turns and looks straight at you and Dustin. “Shit!”
You flinch back, knocking into a bucket of nails that spill everywhere. “Shit again!”
Dustin tries to shush you but you grab him by his shoulders and force him behind you. Your knives are out, their blades gleaming in the sunlight that creeps through the wood panels. You peek through them to find Dart slowly approaching the shed, his mouth almost watering.
“Well, this isn’t good.” You take a breath to lessen your fear. “Stay here, I’ll try to distract him–”
“AHHH!” Dustin shoves you against the opposite wall, your body flinging back with a harsh crash, and breaks through the shed’s door. With one solid wack from his hockey stick, he flings Dart into the cellar.
“What the–Dustin!” By the time you make it out the shed, your brother has flung himself on top of the cellar doors, panting.
“Got him,” he informs you, as if it isn’t obvious enough. Dart begins to screech with anger, and Dustin sighs. “I’m sorry, you ate my cat.”
“You’re an idiot, Dustin.”
“Yeah, yeah. Just give me five seconds to catch my breath, please.”
With Dart safely locked away, you and Dustin are able to finally bury your cat.
It doesn’t take long, but the early November heat is just warm enough to make you annoyed as you dig through the soil in your backyard. Dustin has his walkie with him, trying to find the right frequency so he can call the party and inform them of what’s going on.
“Guys, this is Dustin again. Does anyone copy?” You stab at the ground with your shovel and your brother groans when he gets no response. “This is a code red. I repeat, a code red!”
Sweat trickles down your brow and honestly it should be Dustin burying the cat, but you’ve never learned how to radio the party so you just sigh and throw more dirt upon your dead cat. Dustin tries a few more times to contact the party, but no one responds.
“Damn it!” He shouts, frustrated.
“Language,” you huff out, more sweat forming.
It goes on like this for a while, Dustin trying and failing to reach anyone, as you two begin to clean the house of any blood and Mews guts. He tries again while you guys grab the cleaning supplies, then again while you’re on your hands and knees scrubbing his carpet in his room.
“Alright, it’s Dustin again. Seriously, I have a code red.”
“Maybe they don’t know what code red means?” You offer, your nose scrunched up due to the bleach fumes.
Dustin scoffs, “sure, and they also don’t know who Luke Skywalker’s father is–”
Suddenly Erica’s voice comes through the walkie. “Can you please shut up?”
“Erica?” Dustin stops scrubbing and straightens up. “Erica, is Lucas there? Where is he?”
“Don’t know. Don’t care.” Erica has always been such a lovely girl.
“Is he with Mike?”
“Like I said, I don’t know and I don’t care.”
You and Dustin share a look. It worries you that Mike hasn’t been responding all day. From what you’ve heard and seen, he’s spent every day this year camped out in his fort in the basement trying to contact El with the radio frequencies.
It’s not like to Mike to just disappear.
“Listen, Erica.” You speak up, trying to sweet talk to the girl. You’ve babysat her a few times and you’ve even managed to convince her you’re kinda cool, so maybe she’ll respond better to you. “Did Lucas mention anything else? Maybe… Maybe like a girl he went to see?”
Dustin frowns. “A girl? What–” You shush him and wait for a response.
Erica snorts. “A girl? Please, as if. He’s been gone all day. That’s all I can tell you.”
Your brother closes his eyes and sighs. “Please tell him it’s super important. Please tell him that I have a code–”
“Code red?” Erica interrupts.
“Yep, code red. Exactly.” Dustin smiles, then covers his mike to whisper to you, “seems like she likes me more than you–”
“I got a code for you instead. It’s called code shut-your-mouth.” Then, Erica switches off the walkie.
Dustin stares at nothing, dumbfounded. You go back to scrubbing the carpet, a pleased smile on your face. “So, you were saying?”
He’s quiet for a few seconds, processing the fact that clearly no one in the party will answer, before letting out an obnoxious groan. “Damn it!”
“Are you gonna help me clean, or–?”
“Can’t you just call Jonathan?” Dustin asks, grasping at straws. “Maybe he can be useful for once and help.”
You shake your head. “No, he’s out of town right now with Nancy.”
“And you’re okay with this because…?”
“Because,” you roll your eyes, “they’re on a secret mission to take down Hawkin’s Lab. They’re at some detective’s house right now, so I have zero way of contacting them.”
Dustin rubs at his eyes tiredly. “How did we get stuck with a cat eating baby demogorgon while Jonathan and Nancy get cool spy work?”
You pinch his leg, causing him to wince and move away from you. “Because you purposefully hid the baby demogorgon. Any other stupid questions?”
“Sure,” Dustin throws his hands up in defeat, obviously joking when he asks, “got any other friend we could call for help?”
A sarcastic laugh escapes your lips and you’re about to tell him that he has more friends than you’ve ever had, but then a thought occurs to you.
Steve.
Technically speaking, you’re friends. Well, sort of. Sure, he had wanted space yesterday in the lunchroom, and yeah he’s still mad at you and things are awkward at best between the two of you, but still…
He’d been at Jonathan’s house last year, he had fought by your side and saved your life and even bought you a vending machine full of snacks. If anyone else could understand the situation you’re in right now, it’s Steve.
You hesitate though. He still seemed really hurt at lunch, but you also saw the way he lingered even after dismissing himself. He doesn’t hate you, at least not really, and without Jonathan or Nancy to call, he’s the only person you have left right now.
It can’t hurt to try, at least.
“Actually, yeah.” You respond after a minute or so. “Be right back.”
Dustin asks questions as you head towards the living room, but you don’t respond. If Steve doesn’t answer, then you can make up some lie about the phone being broken or something to save yourself the embarrassment.
Your fingers press Steve’s long remembered number. He had given it to you his first week of visiting you at Bookstrordinary, assuring you that you could call him whenever. After a while, you took his word on it and started calling the boy every time you were bored and alone at work.
The line rings for a few seconds, and you bite your lip in anticipation.
This is a horrible idea, and yet your heart flutters when Steve answers with a groggy, “hello?”
“Hey, Steve.”
“Y/N?” He sounds surprised.
You can’t blame him, he did quite literally yesterday tell you he’s still upset with you and that he needs space. And yet here you are: calling him early on a Saturday afternoon. “Yeah, it’s me. Listen, I really need your help–”
A sigh. “Normally I’d love to, but I’m kinda in the middle of getting ready to go to Nancy’s.”
“Nancy’s? Steve, she’s not even home–”
“Can we talk later? I… I’d really like to talk, if that’s alright with you.”
This throws you, and for a second you forget about the reason you called. “Of course we can talk, Steve.”
“Great,” you can hear a smile in his voice, which warms you. “I’ll see you later, then.”
Then you remember Dart and the blood on Dustin’s carpet and you frantically try to stop Steve from hanging up. “Wait, no! Steve, Nancy isn’t home and I really need you to–”
The line goes dead, and you slam the phone down. “Damn it!”
Dustin, hearing the commotion, wanders into the kitchen. “Take it the call didn’t go well?”
“No, it did.” Sure, Steve didn’t necessarily offer his help, but he did tell you where he’s going to be in about twenty minutes. You’ll ambush him there and demand he listen to you and help. As a bonding exercise, of course. “We’re going to the Wheeler’s.”
“Why?”
“Steve’s heading there.”
Dustin trips over his shoelaces. “Steve Harrington?”
“Long story,” you sigh, dreading that you’ll have to explain all of this eventually. “C’mon, let's get our bikes.”
You and Dustin get to the Wheeler’s before Steve does, which makes no sense to you but whatever. He’ll be here soon enough and you’ll ambush him with all your charm and maybe a bit of groveling. You’re not beneath it, if you’re being honest.
Dustin goes up to the front door while you stay behind, keeping an eye out for Steve. Ted opens the front door and while you can’t hear what he says to Dustin, you know he’s unamused by his presence. The father has never been your favorite parent within the group, honestly.
You watch as they exchange a few more words before you see Dustin sigh and angrily march back towards you. Then, right as he’s grabbed his bike, a familiar red BMW pulls up. Just seeing his car makes your heart skip a beat.
The car parks and a frazzled Steve steps out, carrying flowers and mumbling to himself. You aren’t able to hear everything he’s saying, but you can hear the words “what the hell am I sorry for?” and your stomach twists.
So clearly he’s not in a good mood. Still.
The flowers, which you now can see are roses, hang by Steve’s side as he fixes his hair. He hasn’t noticed you yet, and it takes everything within you to pull your eyes away. He looks good today, too good.
There’s a monster currently locked in your cellar.
“Steve!” You rush over to his side.
He does a double take when he sees you. “Y/N? What are you doing here?”
“Well–”
“Are those for Mr. or Mrs. Wheeler?” Dustin now joins you two, pointing at the roses in the boy’s hand.
Steve looks between the two of you. “No…? You’re Dustin, right? Y/N’s brother?”
Dustin snatches the roses out of his hand. “Good, and yeah, I am.”
“Hey, what the hell?” Steve looks at you for help, but you know there’s no use trying to reason with your brother. He’s in a mood, similar to Steve, and you just sigh and follow Dustin. “Hey!”
“Nancy isn’t home.” Your brother informs Steve.
“Where is she?” Steve asks, and you hit his shoulder.
“I tried telling you over the phone!”
Dustin claps his hands at you to get your guys’ attention again. “It doesn’t matter where she is or if you tried to warn him, Y/N. We have bigger problems than your love lives.”
He’s at Steve’s car now and opens the passenger side door. “Do you still have that bat?”
Steve whips his head towards you. “Bat? What the hell is he talking about? Y/N, what are you guys doing here–”
“The one with the nails!” Dustin interrupts, exasperated.
Again Steve looks at you. “Why?”
“You’re not gonna like it,” you confess, and this only makes Steve feel worse.
“We’ll explain it on the way.” Dustin goes to sit in the passenger seat but he’s quickly stopped when you grab his hood and yank him out.
“No, absolutely not. I deserve the passenger seat, not you.”
Dustin slaps you away. “I got here first.”
“I was born first–”
“But I was literally about to sit down–”
“Hey!” Steve shouts, effectively shutting you and Dustin up. “It’s my car, and right now I currently only like Y/N, so she gets the passenger seat.”
“You like Y/N?” Dustin asks at the same time as you ask, “You like me?”
Steve rolls his eyes. “Yeah, barely. She’s on thin ice. But you, little Henderson? You just stole the flowers meant for my girlfriend, so backseat you go.”
“Yes!” You cheer, pumping your fist in the air as you flash Steve a smile. “Thanks, Harrington.”
He rounds the front of his car and opens the driver's side door. “Yeah, don’t get used to it. Like I said, you’re still on thin ice.”
He says it with annoyance in his voice, but you can see the smile he’s trying hard not to let slip, and you feel giddy. Steve obviously can’t be too mad at you if he wanted to talk later and is willingly letting himself be kidnapped by your brother.
Dustin, on the other hand, can’t believe any of this is happening. As soon as you’re all in the car he asks, “Since when did you two become friends?”
“I have a life outside of you and the boys, you know,” you tell him, but you avoid Steve’s gaze. It’s not like you intentionally hid this aspect of your life from Dustin, but… It also never came up, either.
“Sure ya do, but… Wait,” Dustin remembers something. “Oh my god, you have Steve Harrington’s number memorized?”
Your face heats up and Steve hides a smirk, but you see it anyway. You ignore his smugness and respond to your brother. “Like I said, I have a life outside of you.”
Dustin gapes at you. “I have so many questions–”
“I have an even better one: where am I taking you guys?” Steve asks, and suddenly you remember everything at stake.
“My house,” you tell him as you buckle up. He nods, although with some confusion, and then starts the engine. “You know how I called you earlier?”
“Yeah…?”
“Dustin, why don’t you tell Steve here what you found.”
Your brother sighs from the backseat. “A few days ago I found this… lizard of sorts.”
“A lizard.” Steve says, unimpressed.
“Oh, just wait,” you quip.
Dustin turns his head to glare at you and you give him a thumbs up. He scoffs at you before carrying on, “Yes, a lizard. I named him Dart and he was super cool, okay? I thought I had discovered a new species and that I would be super famous and better than everyone else.”
Steve glances at you next to him, raising his eyebrows and whistling low. “Wow, does humbleness run in your family, Y/N?”
“I’d say so, yeah.”
“Anyways,” Dustin interrupts, ignoring Steve’s laugh at your response. “Turns out, Dart is from the Upside Down.”
“The Upside Down?” Steve asks, extremely confused. He looks at you again in the mirror and it hits you that no one explained to him the events from last year. You assumed that Nancy would’ve, seeing as how they’ve been together for a while now and Steve had been with you guys at the hospital the night you brought Will back.
However, from his disbelief and confusion it’s clear that she hasn’t. If you had to guess, Steve probably went home that night and blocked out everything that had gone down with no questions asked.
You respect his repressing skills, honestly.
Dustin groans, beginning to grow impatient with Steve. “Yes, the Upside Down. If you have the bat still, how could you not know–”
“Do you remember that… thing we killed at Jonathan’s last year?” You cut your brother off before he can get too mean. You love the kid, you do, but he isn’t the kindest person when others aren't understanding him.
A dark look passes over Steve’s face and his fingers tighten around the steering wheel. It’s night now, and the atmosphere in the car becomes tense. “I remember.”
You clear your throat, “Well, this creature–”
“Demodog.” Dustin corrects from the backseat.
“Demodog?” You turn in your seat to face him. “That’s what we’re calling it now? Seriously?”
He shrugs. “It’s a baby demogorgon, it looks like a dog, so… Demodog.”
You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Alright. Okay. Whatever, this demodog is from the Upside Down. It’s this parallel universe, basically. Creepy shit happens there, and last year a monster–”
“The Demogorgon.” Dustin once more interrupts.
“Dustin, if you want to catch Steve up then for the love of god, please shut up.”
“Sorry,” he mumbles, embarrassed.
A smile tugs at Steve’s lips and you take a deep breath to calm yourself before continuing. “Look, I don’t know how much Nancy told you about that night at Jonathan’s, but all that you need to know is that the Demogorgon took Will last year and we had to fight it in order to save him.”
Steve nods slightly as he follows along, “Nancy mentioned something about a monster at the hospital… she told me it’s what killed Barb, but never told me it had a name.”
Another silence falls between you guys in the car. The mention of Barb brings back bad memories for you both. You had liked Barb, she had always been nice to you, you guess. Hawkins is a small town. Everyone knows everyone, and in the end the smallness of the town is what makes the Upside Down so hard. You lose people close to you, one way or another.
And as for Steve… The roses he bought for Nancy lay wilted in his backseat.
Dustin shifts uncomfortably in his seat, and your heart pangs in understanding. He misses El, and you do too. The closer it gets to the anniversary of her disappearance, the more you miss the sweet and caring girl; but you know that the boys, Mike especially, haven’t given up hope for her.
“So…” Steve motions for you guys to continue explaining, and Dustin sits up in his seat to begin again.
“So flash forward to now: I didn’t realize Dart was a demodog until he grew like three damn sizes bigger than when I found him. Y/N and I almost died trying to lock him in our cellar.”
“Wait, you guys have a cellar?”
Dustin rubs his face, “That’s what you focus on, Steve?”
“It’s a valid question–”
“Guys!” You lurch yourself forward and wave your hands around wildly to break up their bickering. “We really don’t have time for this. Can we please just focus on the task at hand? Dart has probably grown even more during the course of this stupid conversation.”
Your brother’s hand pushes your shoulder back so that you’re now once again sitting, and you swat him away with annoyance. “Y/N, I’m trying! Blame Steve, he’s the one asking stupid questions–”
Steve speaks up, “What the hell? They aren’t stupid questions–”
“Well…”
Steve shoots you an offended look, “Y/N, I thought you were on my side.”
Dustin scoffs, hurt. “She’s my sister, you idiot!”
“Again, we seriously don’t have time for this because, once more: Dart is getting really big.” Your voice is louder this time, and thankfully it shuts everyone up. Then, just because you can, you add, “and I’m on Steve’s side right now. He’s the one with the car, plus… Well, I owe him.”
Steve fist pumps the air. “Suck it, little Henderson.”
“Do not call me that,” Dustin threatens him, then turns his attention to you. “First Jonathan, now Steve? Can’t you befriend anyone I like?”
The mention of Jonathan gets Steve attention. “Wait a sec, where is the guy? You never actually told me where he and Nancy went, Y/N.”
You sigh, knowing there’s no use keeping anything else from him. He’s already driving you and Dustin home to help with Dart, and you did promise to tell him where they were later, but life seemingly got in the way. “They’re playing detective right now.”
“Detective?”
“Yeah, the guy Barb’s parents hired… They’re currently at his place, exposing Hawkin’s Lab.”
A tense silence follows. Steve stares straight ahead, eyes on the road, as his expressions morph from hurt, to reluctance, to eventual acceptance. “Nance didn’t think to ask me to join?”
His voice wavers, just a bit, but you hear it. Knowing that Dustin is watching from the back, you decide to forget any possible boundaries for once and grab Steve’s hand. He’s hurting. The car smells of roses and there’s no girl to give them to. “She tried, Steve.”
He swallows. There’s hurt in his eyes and you want to reach out and stroke his cheek and tell him that it isn’t his fault. “I know…”
“Ahem,” Dustin coughs, clearly uncomfortable with whatever is going on. “So… Back to Dart.”
You clear your own throat, but your hand remains wrapped around Steve’s, who nods. “Wait a sec, how big are we talking?”
Without meaning to, you close your eyes and brace for Dustin’s witty remarks, but he surprises you by answering with a demonstration and zero mockery. “First it was like that,” he opens his fingers a few inches before using both hands to show about a foot in length. “Now he’s like this.”
Steve still looks doubtful. “And you’re sure it isn’t some weird lizard?”
A headache begins to form and you pinch the bridge of your nose again. “It’s not a lizard, Steve.”
“Well how do you know?”
“Because his face opened up and he ate our cat.” Dustin says bluntly.
This seems to shut Steve up and he nods his head in defeat. It’s silent in the car for the remainder of the drive, and just before Steve parks in your driveway, he looks over at you and sees your eyes closed in pain, and before he knows it he squeezes your hand and says, “sorry about your cat, by the way.”
Despite the pounding in your head and your utter exhaustion, his words make you laugh. “Just park, Steve.”
He smiles, feeling proud for getting you to laugh, and does as he’s told. Before you know it you’re standing at his trunk, staring at the baseball bat that saved your life last year. Dustin has already gone over to the cellar, waiting for you and Steve to follow.
The bat stares back at you, and you shiver as the memories come back. Though you had tried your best to forget that night, that entire week, honestly, it’s been useless. The nightmares still haunt you. You obsessively research trauma in children now to compensate for your own guilt from last year.
“Why’d you keep the bat?” You ask as Steve grabs it, giving it a practice swing. Your own blades are out again and he eyes their gleam.
“It’s kinda sick, don’t ya think?” He swings it again. “I look badass with it.”
He’s dodging, but you sense that he kept the bat for the same reason as why you kept the switchblade. You’ve been waiting in fear for something else to happen. “You don’t look too bad with it.”
Steve blushes a bit, which your stomach flutters seeing. “I, uh… Guess we can’t have that talk tonight?”
“No, not unless we somehow manage to deal with Dart in a timely manner. However, if I recall, nothing ever goes our way.”
“Nope!” He closes the trunk and tosses you a flashlight. Then, he sticks his hand out for you to shake. “But for now… Truce?”
You giggle. “Truce.”
His hand is warm, and even though you had just been holding it in the car moments earlier, his touch still fills you with a gooey warmth that you’ve come to associate with him. As soon as you and him are alone, away from Dustin’s nosy ears, you’ll really apologize to Steve. He may be being nice to you now, but he’s still guarding himself from you.
You hate it. You miss how open he used to be with you.
“Ready to go re-live my nightmares?” Steve asks.
You give him a thumbs up as you start heading towards Dustin. “Always, let’s go.”
“Took you guys long enough.” Your brother mutters when you and Steve arrive at the cellar, weapons in hand. You flash him an apologetic smile while Steve simply ignores him.
Steve approaches the door and listens for a second, “I don’t hear shit.”
You frown and listen as well. He’s right, it’s eerily silent. You shoot Dustin a questioning look and he shrugs as well, “He’s in there.”
“Duh, I know that much, You almost knocked me out when you shoved past me to get Dart in there.” you remark, before softly adding “he’s gotta be in there.”
Your words don’t reassure Steve, who begins to use the tip of his bat to bang against the locked doors. When nothing happens, he bangs harder against them before sighing in annoyance.
“All right, listen kid.” Steve begins, and you start to rub small circles into your scalp in a vain attempt to lessen your headache, because you already know that the next words out of his mouth will start yet another fight. “I swear, if this is some sort of Halloween prank, you’re dead.”
“Steve…” He ignores you and stares down your brother, shining the flashlight directly at his face in what you assume is meant to be a threatening manner.
“It's not a prank,” Dustin tiredly replies, squinting his eyes against the light. “Get it out of my face.”
Steve complies, still hesitant about the situation at hand, and turns to face you. “You got a key to this thing?”
You nod and fish the keys from out of your pocket and unlock the cellar doors. Steve bends down to investigate, and without him having to ask, you hand him the flashlight and step forward so that you’re next to him.
He flashes the light down the stairs and all that the three of you can see is darkness. An uneasy feeling creeps over you. Something isn’t right, but you really hope that you’re wrong.
“He has to be further down,” you say, more so to reassure yourself than the others.
Dustin shuffles his feet next to you and says, with an extremely unconvincingly “brave” voice, “I’ll stay up here in case he tries to… escape.”
Both you and Steve look at him in disbelief. Dustin stands his ground, however, and looks at the two of you expectantly. Steve shakes his head while you sigh in defeat. Your brother is such a pain sometimes.
“You do realize that if Dart eats me, you’ll have to deal with mom all by yourself, right?” You ask him.
The boy shrugs at you. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take, Y/N.”
“Yeah, love you too.” You mumble, before you begin to follow Steve down the steps.
“I’ll be thinking of you!” Dustin calls out, his voice echoing against the cellar walls.
You trail behind Steve, and the flashlight he brought does nothing to illuminate the dark area, so it’s a relief when he reaches above his head to turn the light on. As your eyes adjust to the light change, you scan the room to find the missing demodog. However, all your eyes land on is a long, thin sheet of film on the ground that you can only assume is molted skin.
“Oh, shit…” you breathe out. “This isn’t good.”
Steve picks the skin up with the tip of his bat and examines it and shakes his head. “Please tell me this isn’t Dart.”
“Actually, it’d be easier if it was him.”
Steve doesn’t laugh at your joke; he continues to look around the room before his eyes widen. You turn your head to see what’s caught his attention, and when you spot the problem, your knees weaken.
There’s a giant, Dart-sized hole in your cellar wall.
“Steve? Y/N? What’s going on down there?” Dustin’s voice carries down to you guys, and you and Steve share a nervous glance.
“Dustin…” You call up to him, your voice weaker than you’d prefer. You wish you could be braver for him at the moment, but right now it takes everything within you not to crawl into bed and shut the world out. Why did it always have to be giant monsters?
While you’re reeling, Steve walks over to the bottom of the steps and flashes his light at Dustin, instructing him to come down. Once the boy has joined you guys, Steve guides the light to his bat so that Dustin can see the skin.
“Oh, shit.”
“Funnily enough, that’s what your sister said, too.”
Then Steve shines the light to where the hole in the wall is, and you watch Dustin’s face go from concerned to horrified. “Oh, shit!”
The three of you crouch closer to the hole, and when Steve shines the flashlight through it, your heart stops and you gasp, “It’s a tunnel.”
“No way…” Dustin says in awe.
It’s hard to see exactly how deep the tunnel goes, but something tells you that there’s more to it than meets the eye. This wouldn’t be some simple fix like you had desperately hoped it would be.
Now you really, really wish Jonathan were here. And Nancy. Definitely Nancy.
But they aren’t. This time, you’re on your own with only Steve and Dustin by your side. No one else in the party is available, you don’t even know where they are or if they’re even safe, but right now that doesn’t matter.
What matters is that Dart has escaped.
And it’s happening again.
Everything you’ve tried so hard for the last year to ignore, to move on and pretend never happened to you, has come crashing back into your life.
Steve, seeing your apprehension, grabs your hand and pulls you in close. “Hey, we’ll figure it out. I’ll be here, okay?”
Even though you don’t deserve his kindness, his sincerity, you believe him.
-
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harringtonstilinski · 4 months
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..Ready For It? (Steve's Version) - Steve Harrington (Smut)
Author: @harringtonstilinski​ Characters: Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader Word Count: 6,219 Warnings: fluff, use your imagination for the lingerie Requested: no | yes; i hope it meets your expectations, @fandom-princess-forevermore!! Smut: no | yes; oral (f receiving), protected p in v, first name kink is that even a thing?, A/N: Hi, friends! Surprise, surprise, another smut piece! If you like this chapter, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox. As always, read at your own risk and enjoy 😊
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Steve Harrington. Your assignment partner turned best friend… turned crush. It all started sophomore year when you two were assigned to be partners in math class. Your teacher claimed that the lesson was going to be a hard one and that two heads would be better than one. So, he decided to partner the students up in order to see if his claims were true.
They weren’t true… for you at least. You found the harder stuff a little bit more easier than the easier materials. Steve, of course, struggled a little, but once he got the hang of it, you flew through the lesson, finishing in three days rather than the four your teacher said it’d take. 
When Steve had come to you the following Monday, handing you the math test you’d taken the previous Friday with a smile that he was trying so hard to contain, you knew he passed with at least a low C. 
A smile had crossed your face at seeing the 80/B on his paper, your eyes landing on his before he excitedly picked you up and spun you around in the middle of the hallway, not caring that there were other students walking around that you almost kicked.
From then on, the two of you were inseparable. That was, of course, was after the youngest Byers boy went missing, only to be found a week later in some place called the Upside Down, titled that by your little brother Dustin and his friends, that called themselves the Party.
Steve had protected you, your brother and his friends during the events of Dart, as well as the latest event; The Mind Flayer, that apparently hadn’t gone away like you all had thought. Steve and Robin, both of your best friend, had lost their jobs at Scoops that was located in Starcourt Mall before it burned down… from all the fireworks that you all had thrown at the nasty creature.
Now, you were sitting on a stool at the counter of Family Video, Steve and Robin’s newest job, reading your book. You were completely lost in the words on the pages, you didn’t register what Steve and Robin were talking about.
“I mean, it’s not that I don’t want to try and be with someone long term,” Steve said. “It’s just that I haven’t met anyone that I would want to be with long term.”
“Aside from one girl that’s sitting at our checkout/return counter reading a book?” Robin bemused, gesturing her head towards you, gaining Steve’s attention. 
As he looked at you, he watched as you smiled at something in your book before you chuckled at the pages, your head shaking as you turned the page, a gasp sounding from you not a moment later before you exclaimed “Traitor!” at the page. 
Looking up from your book, your face dropped as you saw the smirks on Steve and Robin’s faces. “This fucker is a damn traitor. Tristan promised Carmen a date and that he wasn’t in love with any other woman, but he lied! He’s going on a date with a woman that’s not– oh, wait.” You had looked back down to get more details, but realized you hadn’t read onto the next paragraph for an explanation. “Nevermind. It was his fucking sister.”
Groaning, you placed your bookmark into your book, closing it and looking up. “Hey, is Keith here?”
“Yeah, why?” Robin asked.
“What do you say to the three of us,” you said, pointing to yourself, as well as Steve and Robin. “Going to get some lunch. I’m starving.”
When your eyes landed on Steve’s, he shrugged and looked towards Robin, who had a knowing look on her face. “You two go ahead and go,” she said, patting Steve on the shoulder. “Someone needs to be here to hold down the fort.”
“Perfect! Well, I mean, not–”
Steve chuckled, turning his body towards the back rooms. “I’m gonna go let Keith know I’m taking my break. I’ll be right back.”
You nodded before grabbing your book, shoving it into your purse before standing up and walking to the Rom-Com section, skimming through the movies you might want to rent for your movie night with Max, since her mom wasn’t being much of a mom these days since Neil took off after Billy had died.
“Oh, Max the store before you got here,” Robin said. “She said she has to cancel tonight. Lucas wants to hang out with her.”
Sighing, you moved from the Rom-Com’s over to the Crime section, spotting a movie that had been one of your favorites for a couple of years. Smiling to yourself, you picked it up and walked over to the counter, Robin already waiting for you. 
She looked at the cover before looking up at you through your lashes. “The Outsiders?”
“Again?” Steve asked, grabbing something from under the counter. 
“Yes, Steven, again,” you deadpanned. “It’s a good movie.”
“How many times have you-” he started, only to face Robin to ask her, “How many times has she checked it out?”
Clicking through the computer, Robin’s eyes stayed on the screen. When she got to your information, she sighed and said, “Four.”
“Seriously?” Steve asked, looking at you through his lashes.
Shrugging, you said, “I can’t help it! Rob Lowe is just- mmm.”
Steve and Robin chuckled as Keith came out from the back, your eyes going wide before you ducked behind the counter, trying to hide from the store manager. 
“I saw you, Henderson,” Keith said.
As you stood, you smiled shyly, resting an arm on the counter. “Heeeeey, Keith. Haven’t I told you that–”
“You’re not checking it out again,” he said.
“Oh, come on!” you whined. “Why not?”
“We have a three rent rule. You can only rent a movie three times.”
“What?! That’s not a rule!”
“That’s my rule.”
Narrowing your eyes, you asked quietly, “Is this because I wouldn’t go on a date with you when you were manager of the arcade?”
All he did was munch on a Cheeto Puff before he turned and walked back into the back of the store, leaving you to groan and toss your head back. “He’s such a dick.”
Chuckling, Steve typed something on the computer before walking around the counter to you. “Come on. Let’s go get some lunch and then after my shift, you and I can hang out. Have our own little movie night.”
You pretended to think about it for a moment before locking your eyes with Steve’s, chuckling when you saw the deadpan expression on his face. “Okay, okay. We can do that. I’ll have to go get some popcorn and candy.”
“Why don’t you guys start early?” Robin said. “Steve, I’ll tell Keith some lame excuse so that you and this fine lady here can enjoy each other’s company.”
“That’s okay, Robin,” you said. “I have some things to take care of at home first before his shift ends.”
“Are you sure?” they asked.
Chuckling, you replied, “Yes, twins, I’m sure.” Looking at Steve, you looped your arm through his, smiling. “Let’s go, Harrington!”
~~~
After you and Steve had lunch, he took you both back to Family Video, where your car was. You told him that you had to go home for a little while but that you’d be at his house after getting the popcorn and candy for your impromptu movie night.
As you were folding your laundry that you washed earlier in the day, your landline rang. Without looking away from the shirt you had grabbed from your laundry basket, you picked the receiver up, putting it in between your ear and shoulder. “You’ve reached the best looking Henderson, what’s up?” A chuckle on the other end had you sighing. “What do you want, Munson?”
“Just wondering if Dustin is coming to Hellfire tonight, princess. That’s all.”
“I play one freaking time and you all refer to me as princess since.”
“It’s adorable.”
“You’re adorable,” you deadpan. “Uhm, I’m not sure. Why not call the house and ask?”
Eddie sighed on his end. “I did, but he told me to call you and ask if you could bring him.”
Looking off the side, you scrunched your brows, pausing your motions of putting the shirt on a hanger. “He couldn’t have just asked me to bring him, or you for that matter?”
“Eh, it’s more fun to annoy you.” You could hear the smugness in his voice as you closed your eyes and sighed heavily. “I already know what you’re going to say, so thank you, princess.”
“You’re fucking welcome,” you gritted through clenched teeth. “I have to run a couple of errands before I drop him off, but it’s your responsibility to bring him home, Munson!”
“Don’t worry, m’lady. He will be home, safe and sound after Hellfire.”
A small smile crossed your face. “Thanks, Munson.” As the two of you hung up, you sighed, thanking the stars above that Dustin had another older male figure in his life other than Steve, who worked a lot and barely had time for Dustin. 
The thought made you sad as you put another shirt on another hanger before your phone rang again. A groan fell from your lips, your head tilting back in frustration before you picked the receiver back up, answering with “Henderson.”
“Should I come pick you up?”
“Steve-”
“I know you said you needed to run-”
“I have to take Dustin to Hellfire tonight, but I’ll get the stuff and be over right after. I promise!”
“Okay,” Steve chuckled. “Don’t forget the stuff!”
“What makes you think I’m gonna forget?”
~~~
“I forgot the stuff,” you said after Steve opened his door, a sheepish smile on your face.
All Steve could do was chuckle and shake his head, Standing to the side, he let you walk in as you rambled.
“I took Dustin to Hellfire, and I was gonna go before I took him, but he was super insistent-” Stealing a glance at him through your lashes, you muttered, “You know how he can be-” Going back to taking off your coat and shoes. “So, when we got to the school, the Club was outside and they wanted me to hang out for a minute, so I did and then one minute led to another and next thing I knew-” You started walking into the kitchen. “I had lost track of the time and when it hit me that I had actual plans with you, I was rushing out of the school, trying not to break any road ru-” You turned around, not seeing Steve standing behind you. “Steve?”
“Living room,” he chuckled.
Walking into the living room with the drinks you had grabbed from the fridge during your rant, you sighed. Setting the drinks down, you sat on the couch, propping your feet up on the table in front of you, crossing your ankles. “So, what movie is going to be gracing our eyes tonight, dear Steven?”
Steve slightly stiffened at you calling him by his full first name. He didn’t know why, but he loved you calling him that. It made his cock twitch in his pants. Sighing to himself, that didn’t go unnoticed by you, he messed with the VCR before standing from his squatting position. “You’ll see,” he replied, walking over to sit next to you.
“Is it Fast Times? I swear to shit, Steve, if it’s Fast Times again–”
“You. Will. See,” he said, poking your leg with two words before poking your side with the last word.
“Okay, don’t tickle me or else we’ll be rolling on the floor having a tickle fight.”
While the previews played, you got comfortable against Steve, resting your head against his shoulder as his arm came to wrap around you. As he lightly rubbed up and down your arm, he asked, “Did you finish your book today?”
“Almost,” you sighed. “I have a few pages left, but when I went to go start on the last chapter, Dustin almost got my door stuck in the wall with how hard he opened it.”
Steve chuckled, continuing the motions on your arm. “I forget you guys have pocket doors.”
“It’s a blessing and a curse sometimes.” Your eyes lit up as you looked at the tv screen, seeing The Outsiders title card. Sitting straight up, your eyes widened in excitement and happiness before you turned to look at Steve. “You rented it?!”
Nodding his head, Steve smiled softly. “You wanted to watch it, so I- oh, shit!” He laughed as you launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” You pressed a kiss to his cheek, causing him to laugh.
“You’re welcome. Now, sit down so we can watch it.”
About halfway through the movie, you started to yawn, moving your head to get more comfortable on Steve’s shoulder.
Steve chuckled, trying to look down at you. “you tired?”
Yawning again, you nodded. “A little. I cleaned and did laundry today. That normally makes me really tired once I’ve-” Yawn. “-had some time to relax.”
“Do you want to go to bed?”
You looked up at him, smiling a little. “Sure.” As you were getting up, you notice Steve hesitate for a moment. scrunching your brows, you placed a hand on his forearm, asking, “are you okay?”
He looked at you before sitting up to face you some. “Yeah, I'm fine. there’s just… there’s just something I wanna do before we head to bed.”
“What’s-” your words were cut off by Steve gently placing his lips on yours, waiting to see what your reaction would be. 
You were shocked, to say the least, and he didn’t move not one muscle, letting you take the lead on the kiss.
After a moment, he went to pull back, but stopped when your hands cupped either side of his neck, pressing your lips against his.
Your lips moved in sync for a moment, the two of you in kissing bliss… before a throat being cleared had you two breaking apart.
“No funny business, son,” his father said. “Either go up stairs and show her the guest room or take her home.” Mr. Harrington walked away towards his own bedroom as Steve took your hand in his to lead you upstairs.
“Don’t take me to the guest room,” you whispered. “Take me to yours. I wanna finish what we started.” You had a sly smile on your lips as you followed Steve up to his room.
Once inside his little safe haven, he closed the door and grabbed your waist, pulling you toward him before he guided you back to his mattress.
When your back hit the mattress, you started to get nervous. hearing all the girls at school talk about steve and what he did right before sex had you wondering what they were talking about back then. Now that you were seeing first hand, your nerves were starting to show.
He crawled on top of you, a small smile adorning his features before he kissed you again. He went to kiss your neck, not missing the light gasp that came from your mouth. 
“Mmm, Steve?”
“Yeah, baby?” he whispered.
“M-maybe we should, uhm… should take things a little slow,” you said, it coming out more as a question than a statement.
He looked at you, cupping your cheek. “We can go at whatever pace you want.”
“Okay,” you breathed, smiling. “ ‘cause I've, uhm… I’ve never-”
Realization dawned on him as you stammered out your words before he quietly asked, “Are you a virgin?”
Looking down at his shirt, you messed with a spot on it, hesitantly nodding your head. When you looked back up at him, he was softly smiling back at you.
“That's okay, baby. I'm glad you told me. Like I said, we can go at whatever pace you want.”
With tears starting to shine in your eyes, you just looked at him, thanking the stars above that they put Steve Harrington into your life. “Thank you,” you whispered.
He kissed you again before getting up off the bed to retrieve some pajama pants for himself, and one of his sleeping shirts for you.
That night, you had the best sleep since November 1983. you almost forgot what it felt like to sleep that good! and it was all thanks to Steve Harrington.
~~~
After that night, you and Steve were practically joined at the hip for the next month! By Christmas, he was calling you his girlfriend, which you didn’t mind not one bit. 
You found yourself ready for intimacy with Steve. You’d been hinting at it while Christmas shopping for your friends and families. Deciding to hint at it one more time to see if he would catch on while the two of you shopped, you stopped at the Victoria’s Secret storefront for a moment before walking inside the store.
“Hey, Steve?” you called after a few minutes of looking around. “What do you think about this?”
Steve walked over towards you, seeing a very sexy piece of lingerie in your hands. “F-for what?” he asked, putting his hands in his pockets. His nervous tick you had noticed way back in high school.
“For me?” you questioned, looking at him with your brows scrunched. “I mean, it’s cute, right?” You went back to looking at the material in your hands. “It’d be cute on, sure, but… wouldn’t it be cute-” You turned to look at him, running your finger up and down his jacket, seductively. “-on your bedroom floor?”
You watched as Steve’s Adam's apple bobbed up and down. Cheering internally, you were so proud of yourself for taking a step out of your comfort zone. What you didn’t know was that Steve’s cock twitched again when you said it. 
Sighing, you looked at the rack and put the piece of lingerie back, looking at it almost longingly. You knew you were putting on an act, but Steve didn’t. It’s what made it fun for you, despite your inexperience.
Steve had inkling that you were probably getting to give him what you both really wanted, but he ended up shooting that idea down when you told him you didn’t want to talk about it a couple of weeks back.
It’s not that you didn’t want to talk about. It’s that if you did talk about it, you’d want to jump his bones right then and there… when you weren’t ready. And now that you were ready, it seemed like Steve went radio silent on talking about sex.
When Steve had told you that he was gonna go look for one more person to buy a Christmas gift for, your eyes went sad before you nodded and agreed to meet him in the food court. Once he walked away, you smirked slyly to yourself, picking the piece of lingerie back up and walking to the counter, purchasing the material for yourself, deciding that tonight… was going to be the night.
~~~
After you and Steve had met in the food court, you both agreed it was time to go back to his house since your parents were having a Christmas party with all of their friends, something you definitely were not interested in doing at the moment.
When you two made it back to Steve’s house, you told him you needed to do something before you sat down on the couch to enjoy a quiet movie night together. With a smile on your face, you ran up the stairs and to his room, shutting the door before moving to his attached bathroom.
Taking the lingerie out of the bag, your smile fell into a satisfied one as you looked at it. With a contented sigh, you nodded your head, placing it onto the counter part of the sink, removing your clothes and undergarments from the day to put the lingerie on. Deciding to put on some of Steve’s favorite pajamas that you wore, you went to the drawer that housed your pajamas, grabbing the ones you needed out.
After you got dressed, you went back down the stairs, smelling the popcorn that Steve had apparently made. If you hadn’t had sexy underwear on, you’d be more excited about the popcorn.
You wrapped your arms around his middle once you made it to the kitchen, resting your cheek on his back, faintly hearing his heartbeat through his back.
“Well, hello,” Steve said, smiling. He turned around, your head tilting back a little to look at him better as his hands came to your cheeks. “You ready for our movie?”
“Is it-”
“A Christmas Story? Yes. I know you love to watch it during this time of the year.”
All you could do was smile at your boyfriend. You hadn’t been together long, but you could feel the love you had for each other. You also decided that tonight was the night you’d tell him those three words.
Reaching around Steve, you grabbed the popcorn, popping a piece into your mouth while turning and walking into the living room, giving your hips little more swing than normal.
Steve gulped, resting his hands on the counter behind him. “Fuck. I’m in trouble,” he whispered to himself. He grabbed the two water bottles he retrieved from the refrigerator as the popcorn was popping before going into the living with you, stopping dead in his tracks at seeing what you were wearing.
Trying to be as seductive as ever, you put a piece of popcorn into your mouth, asking, “See what you like, Steve?”
He didn’t hesitate to nod as he walked closer to you. After he set the water bottles down, he grabbed the bowl from you, setting it on the table before placing his lips on yours in a searing kiss.
You squealed in surprise before closing your eyes to wrap your arms around Steve’s neck, kissing him back with the same amount of fervor he was kissing you with. Your body moved before you could even think about it, sliding down the couch so that the two of you could get more comfortable.
Steve slotted himself in between your legs, propping himself up on his arms to not crush you. He moved his lips in sync with yours for what felt like forever before he moved his lips from yours to your cheek down to your jaw and neck, where he found your sweet spot, lightly sucking when he heard your gasp of pleasure.
Your fingers carded through the back of his hair, keeping him in place while he worked on your skin. A moan that had escaped had him laughing and kissing that spot he was attacking before looking you in the eyes.
“You like that?” he asked.
With your bottom lip in between your teeth, you nodded before kissing him again, your lips moving in sync before his tongue asked for entrance to your mouth, which you granted. Groaning at the feel on your tongue on his, Steve brought a hand to your outer thigh, hiking your leg up on his hip.
“Steve,” you quietly moaned. “I have,-” His lips on the juncture of your neck and shoulder had you gasping. “I have something,-” Your teeth went in between your teeth as you groaned. “I have-,” Steve moved to your shoulder, pulling the top of your sleeve down before stopping at what he saw. When you looked at his eyes, you giggled. “I was trying to tell you that I have something to show you.”
Lightly pushing Steve off of you, you sat up and stood by the couch, a playful smirk on your face before you turned and ran away from him, laughing. He lightly chuckled as he looked down before taking a deep breath in and getting up from the couch, chasing after you.
He found you in his room, and he almost fell at the sight before him. You, in the lingerie you had shown him at the mall just a few hours before. “You-you bought it in r-red?” he stuttered.
When your eyes met, you nodded shyly, feeling a tad insecure just standing in some sexy underwear in front of him. This was way out of your comfort zone. Excitement burst through you as you watched Steve take his shirt off as he walked towards you, his hands going to your cheeks after he discarded the item to the floor, crashing his lips against yours in a kiss that could only be described as heated and hungry.
You moaned into the kiss as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He picked you up, your legs going around his middle as he turned you both around to lay you down onto his bed, your bodies bouncing with the action. 
Detaching his lips from yours, Steve sat back on his legs, running his hands up your thighs to the top of your panites. “Can I take these off?” he asked.
With your teeth between your lips, you nodded.
He gave you a questioning look, asking, “Are you sure? Because once these come off, there’s no going back.”
“I’m sure,” you whispered. “I’m ready. I want you to take me. Deflower me, as they would say.” Sitting up, you placed your hands on his chest, fingers lightly scratching at the hair that was there. “You’re it for me, Steve. Take it… because I want you to be the one who takes my virginity. Because…” It’s now or never. “...because I love you.”
“Fuck, I love you, too,” he breathed, moving to press his lips against yours before gently laying you back. Slowly pulling the panties down your legs, Steve kept his eyes on you, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable in the slightest.
When he pulled the item off, he dropped them to the ground before looking at your knees that were tightly shut. Gently, he pried them apart, not taking his eyes off of you for a second. “Don’t be scared,” he whispered, leaning down to hover over you. “You have not a damn thing to hide from me.”
You nodded before situating yourself up the mattress more, resting your head on his pillow before releasing a deep breath and looking down at Steve, who was already laying on his stomach, looking at your core in awe.
“You’re so wet,” he muttered. Looking up at you, he asked, “This all for me?”
Tentatively, you nodded, doing your best to relax your knees. “All for you, Stevie.” At his look of disapproval, your anxiety started to spike. 
He placed his hands on your thighs as you tried to close your legs. “Not Stevie. Not tonight.”
“S-Steve?” you asked, to which he shook his head. “Steven?”
He all but growled as he looked at your wet heat, licking a strip from your entrance up to your clit, your head tossing back into the pillows as you gasped, your hands coming up to rest beside your head.
“Oh, my god,” you breathed. “Steven!” 
“That’s right, baby,” he said. “Say my name. Screeeeeam my name.”
“Steve,” you whispered, feeling his tongue attack your clit. You gripped the underside of his pillow for some sort of support as he licked another stripe up your core, stopping on your clit. His attention on your bud was almost like he was licking an ice cream cone on a hot summer day. 
Moving one of your hands to your thigh, your fingers laced with Steve’s as you felt your orgasm building. “Oh, my god!” you whined. Looking down at Steve, you breathed, “Holy shit.” 
Looking up at you, Steve asked, “It okay if I finger you?”
Quickly nodding your head, you said, “Yes,” before another whine left your throat at the feel of two of Steve’s fingers sliding into you with ease from all the slick that you and Steve had built up. 
Your moans came out as pants as you squeezed Steve’s hand, feeling him squeeze yours back. “St-Steve… I’m gonna cum.”  A frustrated groan sounded from you when you felt Steve stop all movements. Glaring down at him, you narrowed your eyes, saying, “I swear to god, Steven-.” Your words were cut when he dove back into your core, a moan of his name falling from your lips as you came all over his fingers.
Steve helped you ride out your high, giving you sweet praises as he kissed your inner thigh. “That’s it, baby. You did so good.” Crawling back over you, he smiled before placing his lips on yours, your lips moving in sync as you worked on unbuckling his belt, removing it from its loops on his jeans.
Standing from the bed, Steve slid jeans and boxers down as you propped up on your elbows, teeth right back in between your teeth. He chuckled at you as your eyes went from his eyes, to his chest, his abdomen, and then finally, on his cock. 
Nerves started to creep back in as you trailed your eyes back up his body. “Is… it’s gonna fit, right?” you asked, watching as he slid the condom onto his length before crawling back over you.
He nodded, running a finger through your folds. “It’ll fit.” Grabbing his shaft, he gathered as much wetness from your entrance as he could before going still, letting out a breath. Looking at you, he asked, “It’s gonna hurt. Are you ready for it?”
You let out your own breath, closing your eyes to ready yourself. When you opened your eyes, you looked into the hazel orbs that you loved so much. Threading your hands through the sides of his hair, you nodded, whispering, “I’m ready.”
Steve looked at you for a moment before kissing you, gently, while pushing himself inside of you.
A pained gasp sounded from you, tears springing to your eyes at the intrusion as you squeezed them shut while Steve rested his forehead on your shoulder, grunting. Kissing your shoulder all the way up to the side of your mouth, he voiced his apologies, bringing his arms up to cage in your head, wiping your tears away.
The head of his cock was the only thing inside of you, so when he tried to move in a little more, you whimpered.
“I’m so sorry, baby,” he whispered, kissing your cheek. 
You shook your head, swallowing the next whimper that wanted to escape. “It’s okay, it’s fine. Just… gimme a second. You’re fucking huge.”
Sighing, he said, “You’re so fucking tight.” He looked at you, moving hair from your forehead, saying, “Baby, look at me.”
Opening your eyes, you felt two tears fall from the corners down to your ears. He watched as they fell, catching them before they could fall to your ears.
“I gotta try some more or else I’m gonna explode.”
Your chuckle turned into a whimper, almost forgetting that his dick was partially inside you. You took a deep breath, releasing it as you said, “Okay.” Nodding you repeated the word, adding, “Kiss me while you do. It might help the small amount of p-”
He kissed you before you could finish your sentence, pushing inside until he was fully sheathed. 
Breaking the kiss, your head pressed further into the pillow as you loudly exclaimed, “Fuck! That hurts.”
Ever the gentleman that he was, Steve let you adjust to his size as he pressed light kisses all over your cheek, feeling your quick breaths as you adjusted, the pain turning into pleasure.
You sighed, taking the sides of his neck in your hands to bring his face level with yours. “You-you can move now. I think I’m good.”
Steve didn’t say anything as he kissed you, pulling out almost all the way before sliding back in, the both of you hissing. He set a slow pace to help you get acquainted with the feel of his cock sliding in and out.
“More,” you gasped. “Steven… more.”
“Fuck,” he muttered, going at a faster pace, whines of pleasure meeting his ears. “You feel incredible, baby girl.”
You moaned, arching your back at the use of the nickname before whining in pleasure as Steve bucked a little harder than he intended. “Fuck, Steve. Do that again.”
He looked at you, stopping his movements. “You sure?”
“I swear to fuck, Steve, if you don’t move-” Your words were cut off by a gasp in pleasure at the feel of Steve’s hips snapping into yours. “Ho-ly shit,” you said with each thrust of his hips.
“Goddamn, you feel incredible,” Steve grunted.
“You might’ve mentioned that,” you said, a smile on your face. 
Gasping, you carded your fingers through the back of his head, gripping onto his locks gently as he brought his fingers to your clit, circling the sensitive nub. “Mmm!” you half moaned, half whined, your bottom lip between your teeth. “Steven! I’m gonna-” Your words were once again cut off as your release hit you before you could voice it.
“Shit, baby girl. I’m gonna cum,” Steve breathed, his thrusts growing sloppy. One, two, three, four, five more thrusts and he was spent, his seed spilling into the condom.
You could feel him pulsing inside of you, which was a weird feeling in and of itself
The two of you stayed like that for a moment, trying to catch your breaths… before you started giggling, which turned into full on laughter.
Steve looked at you with concern. “Baby?” 
“Oh, my god,” you laughed. You looked at him, trying to control your laughter. “I’ve never cum that hard in my life.”
Steve chuckled, resting his forehead on your shoulder. With a soft groan, he lifted himself up to rest on his hands, looking at you with so much love and adoration. “I have pull out now ‘cause I’m starting to get soft.”
You nodded, ready for that small amount of sting that everyone talks about. Hissing came from both of you as he pulled out. But what you felt wasn’t pain, it was the feeling of the tiniest bit of overstimulation, your body jolting a little.
“You okay?” Steve asked, sitting back on his knees, rubbing your calf.
Your answer came as a nod, a sigh falling from your lips as he nodded to himself, bending over to kiss your knee before getting up off the bed to clean himself up. Not knowing what to do, you sat up on your elbows, looking around his room. 
When you turned over to look at his nightstand, you noticed the picture frame sitting next to his lamp. Inside was a picture of the two of you after one of Steve’s basketball games.You both were smiling big, but as you were looking at the camera, Steve was looking at you. That was a happy day for the two of you.
The Hawkins High Tigers had won that game, and you both were elated, high on adrenaline. That was the night the two of you realized that you liked each other more than friends, but never voiced anything to each other, not knowing you both felt the same.
When Steve came out of his bathroom sighing, he looked up at you, seeing the frame in your hand that you had picked while thinking about that night. “What’cha doing?” Steve asked, crawling on the bed behind you, kissing your shoulder.
“Thinking about the night this picture was taken,” you said, hissing at the end from the feel of something warm on your sore core. Taking a deep breath, you released it as you turned to lay on your back, picture frame still in your hand above your face. “That night…-” you whispered. “...was the night I realized I liked you as more than a friend.”
Steve laid next to you, kissing your shoulder again as he put his arm around your middle. He looked at the picture, smiling to himself as he also thought about that night. When he saw in the crowd, cheering him on while wearing his number on your face, he knew. He knew that you were the one for him.
He played his heart out that night, only taking a couple breaks to catch his breath. When he turned to see if you were looking at him or watching the game, he would smile to himself, seeing you angry at something the other team did to the Hawkins players.
When you placed the picture back on his nightstand, he sighed softly, closing his eyes before opening them up again at feeling you move under his arm. Laying on your side, you looked at him, staring into those hazel eyes that you fell in love with all those years ago.
“Thank you,” you whispered, bringing your arm up between the two of you, placing your fingertips on his jaw.
“For what?” he asked, softly.
“Giving me the best night of my life.” Smiling, you cupped his face the best you could, lifting your head from the pillow the slightest bit to press a kiss to his lips. 
“You’re welcome,” he replied, pressing his lips back on yours.
Before the two of you feel asleep just as you were, your asses bare for the world to see, you both said those three words that were confessed earlier in the night.
“I love you.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N 2:  hi, friends! let me know what you thought about! again, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox.
Additional Notes: we’re also adding a lot of new things up top! let me know what y’all think about that! is it more organized, is it more chaotic? let me know! :)
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Posted on January 13, 2024
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yelenasdiary · 4 months
Note
Here is an yelena request. It was an idea first but since you want requests for her.
Reader giving intersex yelena a blow job while she does homework or work. Not letting yelena cum until she finishes her work. Which of course yelena has a hard time doing. 🤭
Don't Talk Back!
Pairing: Brat! Yelena Belova x Reader
Summary: Yelena is behind on mission reports, so you give her a little help
Smut, 18+ Only! Minors & Men, DNI!
Warnings: Dom! Reader, Sub! Yelena, Oral (Yelena Receiving), Yelena has a penis, Mommy Kink, Slight degradation, Slight Exhibitionism | 1.3K
Translations: нужно кончить (need to cum)
AC: I hope you enjoy this! Thank you for sending it x
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"Yelena, you're late on these, I need them by the end of the day" Natasha spoke sternly as you entered the conference room to find your girlfriend unimpressed with her sister's stubbornness. "What's going on?" You asked, placing the store brought sandwich on the table next to Yelena. 
"Yelena is late on some mission reports, maybe you can convince her to find them before the end of the day otherwise it's my arse that's on the line" Nat replied before storming out of the room. Yelena looked up at you and shook her head, "I'm only a day late" she spoke as you crossed your arms over your chest. 
"You told me you finished them last night before you got into bed" you reminded the blonde, clenching your jaw at her lie. "I was tired" she muttered, letting her eyes drop to the laptop in front of her. You pulled her chair out from the table and swung her around to look at you, "don't talk back to me like that" you spoke sternly. Yelena smirked ever so slightly, "Yeah? Why don't you do these reports then" she spat making you tilt your head at her behavior.
Your eyes dropped to the growing bulge in her before you pushed her chair away from her, "take them off" you demanded. 
"What?" Yelena asked with a confused look. 
"Don't play dumb now baby, take them off. You're going to get these reports done and you're not going to cum until I say you can, now, take them off" you replied. 
"Can we do this in our room?" She questioned making you chuckle at her. You shook your head, "no. If you want to be a stubborn little brat, I'm going to make sure everybody in this compound knows who you belong too" you explained as you wandered over to the door and opened it, pushing a chair to keep it open. Yelena gulped while you looked back at her with a smirk, "do I have tell you a third time?" You slowly wandered back to Yelena. 
She stood up and nervously unbuckled her pants, letting them drop to her ankles as you came closer to her. "P-please mommy, close the door" she begged with her hands playing with the waist band of her black boxers.
"Why? Don't you want everybody to see how hard I can make you work? or are you worried that somebody will see how much of a little whore you are for me?" you asked keeping a strong eye contact with the blonde as she stood speechless in front of you. "Well? Which is it? Use your words" you said. 
"Please" she begged once more causing you to sigh, "you should've thought about that before taking back to me, isn't that right?" You replied. Yelena nodded, "I'm sorry mommy" she said with red cheeks. 
"Too late for apologies, drop the boxers and sit down"
Yelena didn't wait to be told again, she let her boxers drop to her ankles like her pants before stepping out of them and sitting down on the chair again. Her cock semi-hard stood to the side, resting against her thigh. You walked behind her chair and spun it back to face the laptop before crawling under the table and spreading her legs. She looked down at you as you wrapped a hand around her length, "get typing if you wanna cum baby" you spoke as you began to jerk her off. 
She grew harder in your hand by the second, you could hear the light groans coming from her over the sound of her fingers typing on the keyboard. Her fist hit the desk the moment your lips wrapped around her head, trying her best not to moan as Steve walked by the room. 
"F-fuck!" She whispered ever so quietly as she looked down at you between her thighs just to get a glimpse of your lips around her. You looked up at her while you took her inch my inch down your through, tugging at her balls with your hand. "Oh god!" She moaned, throwing her head back for a moment. You knew she would struggle to keep herself from blowing her load too soon but that just excited you even more when her precum hit your tongue. You gagged on her cock before pulling her length out of your mouth slowly. 
"You're wasting time, I didn't say stop!" You reminded her when the sound of her fingertips tapping on the keyboard had come to a stop.
"It's a little hard to focus when you suck me off so fucking good!" She replied, returning to the mission report document in front of her. She's never typed too fast in her life, remembering that word document had spell check, she wasn't worried about mistakes, not when you had her cock down your throat once more. 
Your hands wrapped around her cock once more as you bobbed your head on her length, pumping her with your hands as you did so. Straggled moans left her lips as she struggled to keep her mind and focus on the mission report. "D-don't stop! Please!" you heard her mutter as she tried to place one hand on top of your head only for you to slap her hand away and pause your actions, "I told you, if you want to cum, you'll finish those reports!" You reminded her. 
Yelena sighed heavily wishing the reports would write themselves. Your lips returned to her cock, swirling your tongue around her as she bucks her hips, "нужно кончить mommy!" She grunted in Russian. 
"About time you're getting those reports done!" Kate's voice startled Yelena making her jump slightly in her chair, her knuckles turning while she kept her eyes on the screen in front of her. "Ye-yeah, Nat's on my arse about it!" She replied. 
"Well, when you're done, do you wanna train with me?" Kate asked. Yelena was silent for a moment to keep her moans from alerting her friend of your presence under the table. "Sure, s-sounds good" she replied in a stutter, "Kate I really need to get these done" she quickly added when you pulled back and swirled your tongue over the sensitive tip. 
"I'll be in the my room when you're done" Kate smiled even though Yelena made no effort to make eye contact with the archer. 
Soon enough, Yelena was on the edge of tears from doing her best to be good for you and not cum, her fingers typing as fast as she could manage, her head slightly thrown back while she typed without looking. "Mommy, please!! M' almost done!" She cried as you gagged on her cock once again. Her balls falling heavy in your hands, you knew she was painfully close to letting her load blow down your throat. But you ignored her cries and continued to bob your head on her cock as she struggled more and more to finish the mission report. 
Her breathing picked up, she bucked her hips once more, "Do-Done! It's done!" she almost yelled as she looked down at you, tears building in her eyes, "please mommy, I did it!" she added. You pulled back and smiled softly, "Good girl, now you can cum down mommy's throat" you replied before taking her length back into your mouth. Her warm, salty cum shot filled your mouth rather quickly while she moaned your name.
"Thank you mommy! F-fuck!" she moaned, closing the lid of the laptop and sinking more into her chair. You swallowed her load before coming out from under the desk and kissing her letting her taste herself on your lips. "Take a minute to catch your breath darling, I'm going to get you some water then we'll get the next one done, do you think you can handle mommy keeping your cock warm this time?" You whispered in her ear before wandering out of the room leaving her a mess.
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