#THE STEVE AND KING INTERACTIONS WAS EVERYTHING

[waffietato]

WAIT STEVE'S SO CUTE???

STEVE FACE REVEAL??

#The Owl House #TOH #BRUHHHSTEVE #HES SO CUTE WHAT THE HECK #NOT IN A SIMPING WAY BUT IN LIKE AN ENDEARING WAY AWSW #THE STEVE AND KING INTERACTIONS WAS EVERYTHING #Me: absolutely ignores the angst and just straight up vibes with steve #Uncle Steve #Steve is now King's uncle #Actually after some consideration I've changed my mind #Maybe slightly in a simping way

[andvys]

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter eight ⭐︎ Say my name and everything just stops

Warnings: 18+, minors don't interact! jealousy, angst, low self-esteem (kinda?), mentions of the upside down. weed and alcohol consumption. I will not spoiler anything here, so read with caution

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: You blindly began to follow your feelings, hanging onto a hope that died just as quickly as it came.

Word count: 10k+

Author's note: @hellfire--cult and I came up with this whole idea and we kept talking about this moment for weeks and now its finally here, I hope you guys are gonna enjoy it as much as we did hehe

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next Chapter

♡

The spring wind blows through the open windows in your room, touching your skin and slightly lifting the ends of your new dress. The smell of vanilla and the floral scent of your perfume lingers in the air. You’re leaning closer to your mirror as you apply your favorite gloss to your lips. 

A tingling, exciting feeling bubbles in your stomach, your heart jumping every few seconds or so at the thought of seeing him today. 

Steve’s reactions were everything you were hoping for when you teased him at the diner and in his car, yesterday. His blushing cheeks and the wide, darkened eyes filled you with victory after you had placed a kiss upon his flushed skin. You are still not sure what had caused you the sudden rush of courage, but you’re glad that it hit you because the way he looked at you, the way he reacted, the way his breath hitched in his throat finally gave you the last push to do what you had always wanted to do. Today, you’re finally going to give in to your feelings. 

The nervous, insecure part of you is telling you that there is still a big chance that he might reject you, that you will ruin this thing between you both by making the final move. 

And usually that weak part of your mind would win, it would fill you with enough humiliating images to pull back, to make you rethink your decision, to keep you hiding in the shadows, the way you always did. 

But you’re no longer letting it win. 

You will do this, even if you might lose your dignity. 

Placing the lip gloss back on your vanity, you reach for your favorite necklace, and put it on. You touch up your hair one last time, fixing your bangs before you take a step back, eying the red and white sundress, the little bows on the straps, the dainty flowers on the material, the shortness of it that exposes enough of your skin to drive him crazy… you hope. 

‘Just make your move, babe. Do you really think King Steve would reject you?’

Your smile falls a little when Billy’s voice echoes in your mind. 

Every memory of your best friend brings a hurtful pang to your heart. 

He was the only one who knew about your feelings for Steve and surprisingly he kept encouraging you to ask him out, to make your move. 

Would he be proud of you now? 

Or would he still make fun of you for liking someone like Steve? 

You step away from the mirror and walk over to the window, closing it before you leave your room and make your way downstairs. Eddie isn’t picking you up for once, even though he called you three times already, asking if he should come pick you up and if you’re truly feeling good enough to drive yourself again – you are. The headaches are gone, the dizziness is gone too. All that is left are the nightmares and the sudden rushes of anxiety but you are okay, you feel okay. 

You walk over to the dresser in your hallway, reaching inside the key bowl to retrieve your car keys when something else catches your eye. The one single key, lying in there, you reach for it, furrowing your brows as you trace your finger along the metal, letting it fall in your palm. 

You still remember the day when Max had showed up at your house, asking for you to take Billy’s car before Neil would destroy it in a moment of rage. 

‘He’d want you to have it anyway.’ She said as she handed you the keys. 

You remember how you broke down crying the moment you got into the driver's seat. You missed your best friend and it felt so wrong to sit in the place that once belonged to him. 

You got the windshield fixed and anything else that needed to be repaired, before you parked it in your garage, planning to never open the gate again and just leave the car there until Max would ask for it back. And, you did leave it there, for a few weeks at least. 

Your car broke down on a hot Friday afternoon and the mechanic at the local shop told you that it would take a few weeks to get it fixed. You walked and used the bus for a few days, and then the rain and the storms crashed upon Hawkins, giving you no choice but to take the blue Camaro.

Max even joked about it, she told you that it was Billy who caused your car to break down and who somehow let it rain and storm over the town so you would finally take his beloved car out for a ride because it’s just too pretty to be hidden and locked away in a dark, cold garage.

You’d sometimes drive around at night, when the streets were empty and no one was around. 

When you visited your sister in Indianapolis, you took his car. 

But now it’s been a while, the last time you sat behind that steering wheel was right before the apocalypse almost hit the town. 

A sigh falls from your lips as you stare at the key. 

“Not today,” you murmur as you place it back where it laid before and reach for your keys. 

The drive to Eddie’s new place isn’t a long one, he only lives a few streets away from you now, it would only be a ten minute walk but you desperately waited for the moment when you could finally drive again, and you didn’t want to pass up on the opportunity today. 

You missed this, sitting behind the steering wheel, instead of the passenger seat, longing to be the one in control. You missed picking the music yourself – not that Eddie’s music taste is a bad one, you just need a mix of everything, not just rock and heavy metal, sometimes you just need a girly pop song – not that you would ever admit it to him. 

When you arrive at your destination and you pull up to Eddie’s driveway, you notice that Steve’s car isn’t there yet. Only Jonathan’s car is parked next to Eddie’s Impala. 

Steve is never late, yesterday being the first time that he was the last one to arrive, so he is either still waiting for Robin or… running late is his new thing. 

“There she is!” Eddie chuckles as opens the front door at the same time as you get out of your car, “and she’s here in one piece!” 

A laugh tumbles from your lips as you close the door and lock your car before you make your way over to him, eying the new shirt he’s wearing – which is just another band tee that you have never heard of before. His curly hair up in a bun and a can of beer in his hand.

“I’m a good driver, what are you talking about, Eds?”

He furrows his brows, lips curling into an amused smile, “are you?” 

You walk up the steps to his porch, greeting him with an eye roll, “you know what, next time I’ll pick you up.”

He smirks, using his index finger to point at your car. 

“What, with your baby Mustang over there?” 

You squint your eyes at him, “nope, I’ll take the hidden gem in my garage.” 

“Wait what… What hidden gem?” 

“You’ll find out,” you wink at him, trying to brush past him when he stops you, placing his hand on your arm, he pulls you back softly. 

“Wait.”

You raise your brows at him, “yes?” 

He’s got the twinkle in his eyes, the one he always has when he’s happy about something. His lip twitches, pale cheeks slowly changing color, he’s barely able to contain his excitement as he bounces on his feet.

“Guess who scored a date?” 

Your eyes widen, lips parting as you remember the pretty waitress from the diner. 

Eddie is blushing, lips now curling into a full smile. 

“Oh my god, really?” You ask as a grin appears on your face. 

“Yeah! I’m gonna take her out tomorrow night, I can’t fucking wait, sweets.” He says with a dreamy look in his eyes. “She was so sweet a-and fuck��� she’s gorgeous, don’t know how she said yes to me.” 

You frown at him, reaching your hand out to pinch his cheek, “you’re a handsome, sweet boy, Edward, now shush. You’re gonna knock her off her feet. Any girl would be lucky to have you.” 

His eyes soften, he rubs the back of his neck before his fingers trace the scar on the side – you know that it’s now an insecurity of his, just like it is one of yours. Scars litter your skin from where a bat had left a gnarly wound on the back of your shoulder, from where Jason had hurt you, from where he had left reminders for you that he was the one who did this to you. 

But your scars aren’t nearly half as bad as all the ones on his skin. 

“I’ve never been on a date before,” he murmurs, eyes flashing with doubt. 

“So? It’s gonna be even more special then,” you shrug.

“I just don’t wanna mess it up.” 

“You won’t,” you smile at him, “you’ve got that special charm, one that makes others like you right away, you’re funny and you’re sweet, now stop doubting yourself or I’ll kick your ass and hunt down every asshole who ever made you feel otherwise.” 

He chuckles at your words, though his eyes are still soft as he looks at you. He doesn’t doubt you, he knows that you would actually hunt down every name on the list of people who hurt him. 

“Got it?” 

“Got it.”

“Good,” you say, sternly.

“Good,” he nods. 

You stare at each other for a moment before you both burst into giggles. He wraps his arm around your shoulder and he pulls you inside his house, narrowing his eyes as he takes in your dress.

“Who’d you dress up for, sweets?” He asks, “there’s no hot guys here.” 

“Well, aren’t you humble?” 

“No hot guys besides me, of course,” he corrects himself after clearing his throat, smirking at you. 

You only shake your head in response. 

You pass by the kitchen and the big shelf that was specifically customized for Wayne’s mug collection. Vinyls are on the walls in the long hallway that leads to the living room where you hear the chatter of your friends and the faint music that sounds through the house. 

The smell of weed already lingering in the air. 

The sound of Nancy’s giggle, followed by a voice you hadn’t heard in a while makes you furrow your brows.

“Argyle is back?” 

Your surprised voice along with the wide eyes you look at him with make him chuckle. He knew you weren’t paying attention when he told you about it days back. You were too distracted by whatever daydream you were stuck in as he let both you and Steve know that Argyle was coming back to spend the summer in Hawkins before going off to college in September – something that Eddie definitely won’t be doing, he won’t be going to college, he won’t be going anywhere, at least not now, not yet, maybe not ever, even though it’s all he ever wanted. 

He walked the stupid stage, he snatched his diploma and he finally flipped Higgins the bird, despite the glares, despite the whispers of the people who still blamed him for what had happened weeks back but it doesn’t matter, he tells himself. It doesn’t matter what they say or think because he got people who believed him, people who care about him, people who were willing to fight for him, people who are worth staying for. 

“Yeah, he’s here the whole summer.” 

“Ooh, means we’re gonna get high a lot, cool,” you giggle. 

“Like we don’t do that all that time,” Eddie rolls his eyes, though a smile tugs at his lips as he pushes towards the living room, your feet carrying you closer and closer to your friends. 

Despite Steve not being here yet, you already feel the rush of excitement mixed with the nervousness of what you plan on doing, flushing through your veins. 

Your eyes first fall on Jonathan and Nancy who are standing by the door that leads out into Eddie’s backyard, his arm wrapped around her shoulder, a smile tugging at her lips when she sees you. 

“Hi!” She waves at you, a friendly look on her face. 

“Hey,” you smile at her before you look over at her boyfriend, greeting him as well. You then turn your head to your right, your smile widening when your eyes meet Argyle’s already very dazed ones.

He stands up from his seat on the couch, his hair falling in front of his face a little, he opens his arms, revealing his Bob Marley shirt to you. 

“Well look at what the cat dragged in,” he jokes as he steps towards you, “come here, chica.” 

You chuckle, leaving Eddie’s side to greet Argyle, who instantly pulls you into a tight hug. The smell of weed enveloping you, right away.

“I didn’t know you’d be back so soon!” 

“So soon?” He slurs, patting your head when you pull back again, chuckling when you swat his hand away. “You didn’t miss me?” He jokes as he wraps his arm around your shoulder, just the way Eddie did before, he pulls something out of his pocket, handing it to you, “here, got you a little gift from California.” 

Your eyes lighten up in amusement, a smile tugging at your lips as you look at the blunt he’s holding, you take it, holding it up as you look up at him with a grin, “why thanks.” 

“You gotta share that one with me,” Jonathan grins at you, lazily. 

“You’ve had enough already,” Nancy rolls her eyes, though not without a smile on her lips. She pats his chest, “come on, let’s go outside.” 

“Yeah, you guys go ahead, I’m gonna grab some more drinks,” Eddie says before he leaves the living room. 

You all step out into the backyard, walking over to the little fire pit where the flames are already glowing, surrounded by the comfortable seats. The sound of water flowing from the stream filling the air with a fresh scent, the smell of flowers and the trees giving you a sense of peace. 

Eddie’s backyard is comforting and nice, despite being close to the forest, it’s making you feel safe. He wouldn’t have this now if he hadn’t been dragged into a world of darkness – unlike you, he didn’t grow up in wealth, he didn’t have a fancy house, a fancy backyard with a pool. No. Eddie grew up in a lonesome house, one that certainly wasn’t as luxurious as yours or the one he lives in now. The house he grew up in was haunted by painful memories of his mother that he lost at a way too young age and his father who came and went as he pleased, it was the only thing that he had, the only thing he called his own, but that was taken from him too and he had no choice but to move in with his Uncle Wayne, who had done everything to give him a home – and now, Eddie gave him that back, he gave Wayne a home, a nice house with a nice roof over his head, a garden that he always wanted to have. Eddie had tried to keep the upside down a secret, he didn’t want to talk about what was out there, he didn’t want to worry him, he didn’t want to tell him where all the money actually came from but Wayne isn’t stupid and Eddie isn’t exactly the best at keeping secrets from the people he loves and cares about. 

You wonder what you would have told your parents if they were still here – would you have told them the truth about what actually happened at the Creel house? Or would you have kept it all a secret? You are certainly much better at keeping secrets hidden. Eddie couldn’t even look Wayne in the eyes when he told him that the bite marks on his skin came from a rabid dog and not from interdimensional bats. 

Something cold touches your shoulder, making you flinch in surprise. You tilt your head up, meeting the eyes of your best friend again, “where’s your head at, sweets?” He chuckles, holding the can of diet pepsi out to you. 

With furrowed brows, you look down at the drink and reach for it, “thanks,” you murmur, “and uh, nowhere. I’m just fascinated by your backyard.” 

His dimples show when a laugh escapes him, he takes a seat beside you, snatching away the blunt from your lap, he places it between his lips and uses his red lighter to light it up. He lets out a content sigh as he leans back, puffing out the smoke into the sky before he takes a look around, “it’s nice isn’t it?” 

You nod, pulling the tab on your pepsi, it opens with a pop. 

“It’s better than mine.” 

He turns his head to look at you, a bewildered look on his face, “you’re crazy, sweets. You got a pool.”

“You got one too!” You chuckle, pointing to the pool that has yet to be used, it’s warm out, not hot yet. 

“Yeah, well yours is fucking huge, and you got a hot tub too!” 

“You got a hot tub, chica?” Argyle gasps from your right, “oh, you’re rich rich.” 

“Correction, my parents were rich.” 

“Correction, we’re all rich now,” Jonathan adds, pointing at you with a dazed smile. 

“Rich isn’t exactly the term I would use,” Nancy mumbles as she takes a sip of her soda. 

“Then what term would you use, Wheeler?” Eddie asks, shaking his head at her, “enlighten us.” 

Nancy clears her throat, placing her elbow on the wooden armrest, “we’re taken care of.” 

Jonathan snorts, putting his hand on her thigh as he gives her an amused smile, while she already rolls her eyes at whatever is about to leave his mouth – there’s no annoyance behind her eyes though, no tension in her body from where he touched her, unlike with Steve, who she always looked tense and irritated with. Back then you didn’t understand why, there were so many questions in your mind when you watched them and when she left him – how could anyone be irritated with Steve? How could anyone be tense with someone that provides so much love and warmth to the people he so deeply cares about? How could she leave him? How could she break his heart? Who could ever hurt Steve Harrington? 

“Just admit it, we’re rich.” 

A groan echoes through the backyard, one that doesn’t belong to Eddie, Nancy or anyone else sitting in the circle. You all turn your heads towards the house, finding a very annoyed Robin making her way over to you, a six pack of beers in her hand, sunglasses perched on her nose even though the sun is starting to go down already. 

Eddie isn’t surprised at her barging into his home, she does it all the time, to him, to you, to Steve, he doesn’t mind it though. 

You straighten your back, holding your drink tighter as you look away from her, waiting for Steve to walk through the door. 

The feelings inside of you start to rise again, your heart picking up the pace as your skin starts burning from the excitement.

Robin plops down in the seat next to Eddie, placing the beers on the ground as she slumps back, sighing loudly. 

Everyone’s watching her, expecting a rant already but you’re still fixated on the door, waiting for him. 

“Buckley, why so angry?” 

She pulls her sunglasses up into her hair, turning to face him, “I’m glad you asked,” she murmurs as she reaches for one of the beers, “Dingus ditched me, so I had to walk all the way here!” She throws her arms up dramatically. 

You furrow your brows at her words, the burning on your skin beginning to die down just as fast as it came. 

Argyle and Jonathan chuckle at her. 

“You live 3 blocks away from here…” Nancy mumbles. 

“Not the point, Nance,” she argues, glaring at her friend. 

“Wait, so Steve isn’t coming?” Jonathan slurs. 

Your eyes are wide and hopeful, your hand clutching the can tighter as you dig your feet into the grass beneath you, a weird feeling settling in the pit of your stomach. 

“Wetting his dick with Heidi seems more fucking important today,” she grumbles, rolling her eyes as she raises the beer to her lips. 

Your heart drops. 

The burning in your skin disappears completely as the fire is replaced by ice, the coldness of it freezing your whole body, stopping your heart and taking the false hope away as it kills every feeling that had taken home inside of you just seconds ago. 

Your eyes are stuck on her like you’re waiting, waiting for her to laugh and say it was a joke, that he will be here soon, that he isn’t out with some other girl after what happened between you and him yesterday. 

“Whoa, what?” Eddie mumbles, holding his hands up, “so… he’s on a date with the girl he didn’t want to keep seeing?” 

“Yep.”

Every ounce of excitement is now replaced by the sickness in your stomach, the lump in your throat that makes you struggle to breathe. 

What were you thinking? 

That the game you played wasn't just a game to him? That it was something more than that? That he wanted you just the way you always wanted him? That he could ever feel something for you? 

You don’t know whether you want to laugh at yourself or cry. 

How saddening it is to long for someone who was forced to like you. 

While you were getting ready, making yourself look pretty for him, thinking that he might like you in this dress – he was getting ready to take out another girl, a girl that he chose to like. 

You slowly slump back in your seat when Eddie’s laughter pulls you back into reality. You blink, masking the shocked, pained look on your face with a relaxed one as you take a sip of your drink, hoping that it will get rid of the lump sitting in your throat – it doesn’t. Nothing does. 

Your friends move on to another topic, while you stay there, where you will stay for a while now. The pain of the rejection that has never even taken place, slowly sinking in and everything around you begins to suffocate you – the dress you are wearing, the necklace around your neck, even the presence of your friends. 

You don’t want to be here any longer, you need to be alone. 

But you can’t go, not now, not yet. 

It would be too soon, too obvious and they can’t know, no one can know about your feelings for Steve, about how much it hurts to feel that way for him. 

So you hide the pain as best as you can, you nod along to your friends' conversation, you speak and you laugh when you have to, even when everything inside of you wants you to cry both out of sadness and anger. 

You’re not even angry at him, you couldn’t be angry at him even if you tried to be. He doesn’t know about your feelings – if he did, he wouldn’t have filled you with false hope, you know he wouldn’t. 

He wouldn’t string you along, you know he’s not the type of person to do something like that, not even to you. But you really thought that you had something, that there was something between you, that’s why you let your walls crumble, that’s why you started acting upon your feelings, that’s why you were ready to do more than just the subtle touches and the flirtations. 

You wait, you wait for the right moment to leave, when everyone is distracted enough, you get up, after whispering an apology, a lie into Eddie’s ear, knowing that he doesn’t believe you, that he will probably call you later or even show up to check on you. But he lets you go. 

And as you leave your friends, making your way back into the house, their laughter echoes in your ears, their happy voices and the cheerfulness they’re all feeling, that you were supposed to feel too. 

You blink back the tears, not wanting them to fall just yet. 

You make your way back to your car, not wasting a second to start it and drive home, your vision blurred and your throat hurting from how much you want to cry. 

How foolish it was of you to think that you could ever stand a chance – there was never one to begin with. You will always be the one in the shadows, the one to secretly watch him, the one to secretly want him, the one with the jealousy and the heartache, the one wishing to be anyone but herself because maybe then, he would want you too. 

The smell of smoke from the campfire is now lingering on your clothes and in your hair, tears are now falling freely, ruining the makeup that you have spent hours on, the makeup that you can’t wait to wash off now. 

You don’t even want to think about him. 

You don’t want to ask yourself what he’s doing now. 

He touched you so softly, so subtly, and yet it did everything to set your insides on fire, to make you feel special, even if only for a short moment. 

Now he is touching someone else, in far more special ways. 

A frustrated sigh falls from your lips when you step inside your home, it’s cold and empty, something that you have felt like for a very long time until he started the fire inside of you, only to make it die again… and all without his knowledge. 

You walk up the stairs and past your room, going straight into the bathroom, feeling the need to wash away the day, as though it could ease the aching in your chest. You start the shower before you turn to the sink, not even bothering to look at your reflection in the mirror, it would only make you feel more pathetic. 

You can feel the hot tears rolling down your cheeks, the quivering in your bottom lip. 

You hate this, you hate the sadness that you shouldn’t be feeling in the first place. 

You got no reason to be sad, you should have put your feelings aside, knowing that nothing would ever come out of it. 

It was all so obvious, it was just teasing, nothing more, nothing less. Nothing ever happened, so why would it happen now? He just found another way of messing with you, so that you two wouldn’t go at each other's throats like before.

You just have to go back. No more teasing like this. No more letting yourself get sucked into delusions. He is just having fun while you crave something more with him and get hopeful. 

You aren’t having fun. You wanted more.

You have no choice but to go back to how you were before this… thing started. 

Once your makeup is off and your dress is now laying on the bathroom floor, you step inside the shower, letting the warmth envelope you, hoping for a sense of comfort from it. 

Standing there for a moment, you let the water rain upon your skin, matching the pace of your tears that you’re willing away. 

You will hunt Billy in the afterlife for making you believe that King Steve could ever want you. 

You use your scented shampoo, hoping that it will get rid of the smell of smoke in your hair. You love campfire’s but you can’t stand the stench it leaves on your clothes and your hair. 

Your hands run over your smooth skin as you wash your body, reminding you of the fact that you even shaved this morning – you couldn’t feel more stupid than you do right now. 

Despite the loudness of your own voice cursing at you inwardly and the water hitting the glass, you hear the sound of your doorbell going off – multiple times. 

“What the fuck,” you murmur in confusion. 

It keeps ringing again and again – once, twice and it stops after a third time before it turns into rapid knocking. 

You know it isn’t Eddie, he wouldn’t even have the patience to ring your doorbell and wait for you to open, he’d just barge right in. 

You’d choose to ignore it if the person outside wasn’t so goddamn persistent. 

You turn off the shower, squeezing the water from your hair before you get out, and wrap a towel around your body. The mirror is fogged, as the rest of the room is, you open the door and step out into the hallway, that now feels colder than before. 

The knocking continues, filling you with anger. 

Who shows up at night, knocking like a mad man? 

Maybe you shouldn’t make your way downstairs now, maybe you shouldn’t open the door to whoever it is on the other side. It could be anyone or anything but you doubt that Vecna came back from the dead to knock on doors now and hunt you of all people – he could have done that weeks back, you went through enough trauma, he could have easily chosen you but even he didn’t want you. 

You rip open the door, ready to curse and yell at whoever is terrorizing you at this hour but every word gets caught in your throat and even your breathing halts for a second as your glassy eyes meet the hazel ones that you have been missing all day. Frustration and anger swirling inside them, blazing fire raging behind his eyes. His cheeks are slightly flushed, his chest rising up and down heavily as he stands on your porch, looking better than ever. 

“Steve?” His name tumbles out of your mouth before you can stop it as you stare at him in confusion. 

He eyes you up and down, taking in the sight of your exposed skin that is still dripping with water before he clenches his jaw, raising his hand to run his fingers through his hair, tugging at it. 

Steve Harrington is fucked. He is utterly fucked. You have cursed him in every way possible, he can’t get you out of his mind, he can’t get you out of his system and the thought that you were only playing with him drove him insane. His hunger for you made him desperate, desperate for release. 

So in his state of frustration and desperation, he called up Heidi, thinking that a date and sex with a girl he had been with before would help him move on and stop thinking about you but who was he fooling. He couldn’t even kiss her when she leaned in to greet him with her lips, he dodged her. He couldn’t even listen to the things she was telling him after they ordered their drinks. He couldn’t care less about her. All he could think about was you. All he wanted was you. He wanted your lips to kiss him, he wanted your hands to touch him, he wanted your body under his and the more he thought about it, the more he stopped caring about a possible humiliation after he’d finally make a move on you, he needed you, and he needed to try – if you’d reject him, then so be it, at least he would know and not live with the what if’s in his head. 

He canceled the date in the middle of it, not caring about how messed up that was. He drove her home and without a second thought, he drove here, he came to you. 

And now, you’re standing in front of him, in nothing but a towel, water rolling down your soft skin, big eyes filled with confusion, lips parted, lips that he wants to kiss until he grows breathless. 

The sight in front of him does little to make any of this easier for him. You look like you’ve just walked out of one the dreams he had about you. 

“You gotta be kidding me,” he murmurs under his breath, surprising you when he invites himself into your home, brushing past you with an intensity that almost knocks you off your feet. 

You blink, turning around abruptly, a bewildered look replacing your confused one. 

As you take in the sight of him, your sadness begins to dissolve as the anger you started to miss floods through your veins the longer you look at him. 

You slam the door shut when the wind causes goosebumps to rise on your skin, you hold the towel tighter against your body as you glare at him, “what the fuck?”

“I have to be the one to say that!” He argues.

“Excuse me?” You scoff, your face now burning with rage. Every second that passes now makes you forget about the tears you just shed over him, irritation sparking inside of you so wildly that you want nothing more than to kick him out of your house for behaving that way towards you for no reason. “Weren’t you on a date with… Heidi?” 

Steve clenches his jaw at the mocking voice, at the smirk now tugging on your lips. He chuckles, though not in amusement, he points a finger at you, “see, that’s what I’m fucking talking about!”

Your brows knit together at his outburst, the fire in his eyes growing stronger and bigger. 

“Harrington, if you came to yell nonesense at me, just fucking leave!” You roll your eyes and turn away from him, making your way back towards the stairs. 

But his scoff stops you. 

“Oh, so you keep running away huh!? Didn’t you already get over that!?” 

You turn around with nothing but anger boiling inside of you, “running away!? From what!?”

This should have been enough to make him turn around and leave, because clearly nothing changed, clearly this is still just a game to you – but he has hope, and he is desperate enough to throw every bit of his dignity away and risk something. 

“Oh, don’t play fucking dumb right now. Acting like that for two weeks and pretending to be stupid is not a good look on you, Blondie.” 

You take in a sharp breath, digging your fingers into your towel as you frown at him. 

What does he want from you? 

Why did he come here? 

Was the date so bad, was the sex so awful that he had to come here to torture you? 

Without another word, you turn around and you stomp up the stairs, not wanting to see him, not wanting to hear his voice anymore. 

Your heart starts pounding in your chest again, and you can’t help but wonder – did he figure you out? Did he figure out your feelings? Is that why he is here? To confront you about them? To reject you?

You feel more and more stupid about what you had wanted to do when you woke up this morning. 

Just when your feet carry you up to the second floor, and you rush across the hallway to walk into your room, his footsteps echo behind you, making you more irritated than before. You turn around to face him, but before you can even say anything, Steve is suddenly right in front of you, and his hands reach out to grab your waist, he pushes you against the wall behind you, gently, careful not to hurt you. 

The gasp that falls from your lips startles you. His hands that touch the only thing that covers your body leaving your skin on fire. Your heart rate picks up so rapidly that it nearly steals your breath away. You look up into his golden brown orbs, the ones that are nearly black as he steps even closer, invading your space completely, making you breathe in the scent of his cologne, the one that has butterflies swirling in your stomach. 

He catches you off guard completely. 

You feel so vulnerable, so exposed as you stand there, caged in by his arms, his breath on your skin, his eyes that are filled with so much hunger. 

The words die on your tongue, and yet, after you breathe in more of his scent, you open your mouth to speak. 

“Shut up, Blondie… Just shut up for a second,” he murmurs, interrupting whatever words you had prepared to lie to him with. 

His right hand leaves your waist, inching closer to your stomach as his fingers trace the hem of your towel, drool already forming in his mouth at the sight of you, he is ready to take you, ready to devour you and make you scream his name before he fucks you for only this time. 

He notices the way your chest is moving, the way your breathing stutters. 

“W-What are you doing, perv?” You stutter as you watch him play with the opening of your towel. 

He can’t help but laugh, shaking his head at your insult. 

“Perv? Are you going to continue to play fucking dumb?” 

“Dumb? You are the dumb one if you think that I’m going to be the one to break into your teasing.” 

Steve’s eyes flash with satisfaction. 

This is what he wanted – to hear you admit that you were playing that game with him after all and not because you were playing him and stringing him along just to turn him down to gain something from it, whatever it might be. No. You were doing just what he was hoping for, all along. 

You want him just as much as he wants you and that’s all he needs to know. 

You roll your eyes at him, turning your head as you try to push your way out of his grasp but before you can even step away from him, his hands stop you but not on your waist this time. His large hands cup your cheeks, making you freeze. You stare at him wide eyed when he brings you closer, and you can’t even react before his whole body is suddenly pressed against yours, your heartbeat lurches into your throat. 

As though his touch wasn’t shocking enough, his next move almost causes you to collapse, because now it isn’t only his body against yours, his hands on your cheeks or his breath on your skin, now it’s his lips… his lips on yours, his lips moving against yours in desperation as he takes every last of your breath and makes it his own. 

You can’t do anything, you can’t move, you can’t breathe, you can’t even blink as you stare at him – how his eyes are closed and his cheeks are flushed, the furrowed brows as he kisses you with a kind of passion no one has ever kissed you with before. 

Steve is kissing you. 

Steve Harrington is kissing you. 

His lips are moving roughly against yours, his hands holding your cheeks so softly, yet with an intensity. 

This is all you ever wanted, to feel his touch and his lips on yours but you are too stunned to move, too surprised to kiss him back right now, too distracted wondering if this is real or not.

Along with the shock, you feel the slightest bit of insecurity flooding through you because even though he is kissing you, you can’t help but wonder why. Why isn’t he with Heidi? Why isn’t he kissing her right now? Did she turn him down? Did he come here because he just needed someone? Because he knew that you would fall for this? Or is this just another way for him to tease you? 

Those questions prompt you to push him away, forcing him to break the kiss that he was so deeply lost in. 

You notice the way he begrudgingly pulls away, the way he seems so drawn to your lips, the way his brows furrow in confusion now, his face is flushed and his pupils dilated as he looks at you with nothing but desperation in his eyes – he isn’t teasing, he wants you, he wants you right now and isn’t that all that matters? That he wants you?

His eyes stare into yours as he is breathing heavily. A flash of rejection takes over his features and by the look in his eyes, you can tell that he is beginning to get lost in his anxious thoughts – thoughts that you quickly shut down by making the move that he just made. You cup his cheeks and you pull him down, closing your eyes as you slam your lips against his for the very first time. 

Unlike you, he wastes no second to reciprocate the kiss, a sigh of content leaving him as he presses you back against the wall. 

Warmth blooms in your stomach, one that doesn’t stay the same temperature for long because the moment he deepens the kiss, the moment his hands hold you tighter and his knee parts your legs, sliding his thigh in between yours as the kiss gets rougher and rougher, you feel the warmth evolving into a deeper, burning sensation – a fire inside of you that only he can mend. 

You can’t believe that this is happening, that something that you had been craving for years is now here. 

And Steve, he feels his heart pounding in his chest from the rush, from the adrenaline, from his desperation that grows bigger and stronger when he feels just how much you want him as your lips move roughly with his. 

You're hesitant with your touch, but when he grabs your face and pulls you even tighter against his body, his thigh pressing stronger against your core, you can’t help but throw your arms around his neck, digging your fingers into the hair that you’ve always wanted to touch. 

You can feel him smirking against your lips when you moan into the kiss, which prompts you to tug at his hair and press your tongue against his bottom lip.

He welcomes it into his mouth so eagerly, his tongue now clashing against yours as his palms slide down to your waist while your hands reach for the front of his shirt, fisting the material tightly as you begin to drag him into your room. 

You both know, you both feel where this is going, what this is leading to – what the past few weeks have been leading to. 

You want this, you need this, you need him, even if just for tonight. 

And you know, you already know that you will be done for, that he will ruin you for anyone else but you couldn’t care less, right now. Especially when he kisses you with so much roughness, everything about this setting all your insides on fire, leaving your skin burning and yet aching for more. 

Steve is careful not to step on your bare feet as you lead him backwards into a different room. Excitement bubbles in his stomach and he grows even more breathless than before, he pulls away and breaks the kiss but doesn’t hesitate to latch his lips onto your neck, kissing and biting your flesh, “I fucking hate you, Blondie. I hate that I want you so much.” 

Your lashes flutter as you close your eyes, tilting your head to the side as you feel your stomach and your heart fluttering at his touch, at his lips on your skin but especially at his words. 

Your knees grow weak and a needy whimper falls from your puffy lips. 

All that echoes in your mind now is I want you. I want you. I want you. 

You don’t even care about the other things he said to you, you only care about the three little words you have only ever dreamt of before. 

You almost fall when you feel the back of your legs hitting your bed, but he keeps you upright, not pushing you down just yet. He keeps nibbling on your neck, kissing, biting, sucking as he breathes heavily against you, growing harder against your stomach. 

“Couldn’t even finish the fucking date, couldn’t do anything cause I kept thinking about you, Blondie,” he speaks into your neck, fingers now dangerously close to your bare skin behind the towel. 

Your heart nearly explodes at his words and you can’t help but sigh in relief, knowing that nothing happened between him and Heidi. And all because of you. 

“You drive me fucking crazy, I want to rip the towel right off–”

“Then do!” You whine, not caring about how eager and desperate you sound, “show me how much you hate me, Stevie.” 

He pulls away from your neck after placing another wet kiss to your skin, strands of your hair getting caught in his as he faces you again, with flushed cheeks and almost black eyes he looks at you and takes in the sight of you, the pout on your lips, the flustered look on your face, big eyes that you are begging him with. 

He doesn’t even bother to look around the room, just caring about the bed behind you. 

He rips the towel off your body, letting it fall to the ground, his hands find your bare waist that he grips tightly as he throws you on the bed, smirking at the gasp that leaves your lips again. 

Without hesitating to, he reaches for the hem of his shirt and rips it off. 

Just like back then on the boat, when he took his shirt off before he jumped into the water, you stare at his chest, almost drooling at the delicious sight in front of you. His broad shoulders, the scar around his neck that makes him look even hotter, the hairs on his chest, the muscles in his arms that have visibly gotten bigger since high school. You bite your lip as your eyes move down, almost whining when you see the bulge in his tight jeans. 

You wish you could run your finger down his chest and his stomach, tracing every little scar that the bats have left behind, but instead, you push yourself up, blushing at the fact that you are completely bare in front of him. You reach for his belt, fingers beginning to fumble with the metal when he stops you with a simple touch and a headshake. 

“None of that,” he murmurs as he leans over, his hands digging between your ass and the mattress as he suddenly pulls you to the edge of the bed, dropping to his knees before you, he throws your legs over his shoulder and looks up at you with hooded eyes, “I need to hear you first.” 

You nearly combust when you feel his breath on your pussy and his lips on your inner thighs. A whimper falling from your mouth as you try to close your legs out of instinct, blushing even harder than before. 

“You’re fucking soaked,” he smirks, holding your thighs open as he teasingly slips a finger through your folds, “all for me, huh?” 

You don’t answer but you don’t need to, the loud moan that you let out when he dives right into you with his tongue, gives him everything he needs to know. 

He moans in content as he grabs your ass roughly, eyes rolling back when he tastes you for the first time, he almost starts drooling over you, finding pleasure in this. 

He teasingly licks a stripe up from your entrance to your clit, circling the tip of his tongue around your already aching nub as he uses his fingers to part your lips. 

You scrunch up your face as his tongue pleases you in ways your fingers never could, sighs and whimpers start escaping you as he now presses his thumb against your clit and he starts eating you out, his moans vibrating against you. 

Your mouth falls open as your back arches in pleasure, fingers digging into the sheets beneath you as you fall apart completely. 

No words are spoken as you both just enjoy this moment of bliss, him getting lost in you, you getting lost in the pleasure he blesses you with. 

You focus on everything and also on nothing – his whimpers send shivers through you, his tongue that he fucks you with making you gasp and drool, and despite the heaviness in your eyes, you manage to open them, wanting, needing to see him. 

He eats you out slowly, yet desperately, fingers and tongue now working together to unravel you. His eyes are closed and he keeps moaning and whimpering as saliva runs down his chin. He looks so content, so pleased from only this. 

Steve curls his fingers inside of you as he keeps his thumb on your clit, rubbing circles on it. 

Tears of pleasure prickle in your eyes as needy sounds keep escaping you. You hold the sheets even tighter now, closing your legs around his head, caging him in between them. 

Steve finally opens his eyes, they darken even more now when he sees how you are falling apart for him, it only prompts him to fuck you even harder with his tongue and his two fingers. 

Your moans and whimpers are enough to drive him crazy, enough to make the erection in his pants feel painful but he wants more, he needs to hear his name falling from your lips and he gets what he wants only seconds later when your body grows tense and your back arches again as a tear rolls down your cheek. 

“Steve!” You nearly scream as you come undone, writhing beneath his touch. 

You tilt your head to the side, bringing your hand up to your face, you bite your teeth into your knuckles as hot tears run down your flushed cheeks. 

Steve laps at your pussy, moans still falling from his mouth. Only as you whimper weakly does he pull away from you, but not without giving your clit another teasing lick, causing you to spasm which only makes him chuckle darkly. 

He carefully removes your legs from his shoulders and lets go of you before he rises back to his full height. 

You instantly press your legs together, breathing heavily as you try to calm down from the orgasm he just gave you. 

What Steve didn’t do before was take in the sight of your bare body, and now as he does it, he has to swallow harshly, his dick twitching in his jeans, begging for release. He finds himself aching for you, even more than before, he not only wants you, he needs you in ways he can’t even describe. 

He watches the way your chest glistens with sweat, your nipples hard from the pleasure that curses through your body, your eyes are shut, your brows pulled together. He licks his lips before he bites down as his eyes trace every inch of your skin, the scars that make you look even more attractive. 

It takes everything in him not to drop to his knees and taste you once again. 

He needs you, he needs to feel you wrapped around his dick, he needs to hear your moans as he fills you to the brim, he needs to fuck you. 

Steve unbuckles his belt, the metal clinking against each other, causing you to open your eyes at the sound. 

You look at him through your glassy eyes, pushing yourself up on your elbows as you watch him unbutton his pants but before he pushes them down, he reaches for his wallet in his back pocket and you watch him curiously. 

He opens it to take out the condom he had prepared for a different… less exciting occasion. He hastily pushes his pants and boxers down, his dick slaps against his stomach and he fails to notice the way your eyes widen or the way your lips part in surprise at the sight, at the size of him. He steps out of his shoes, cursing under his breath as he pushes them aside before he uses both hands to part your legs, getting on the mattress.

Before he rips the foil apart, he looks into your eyes, wanting your consent first but no words have to leave his mouth because you are the first to make the move, you sit up slightly, taking the tiny foil pack from his fingers, surprising him by bringing it up to your lips and ripping it open with your teeth. 

Despite the streaks of tears on your skin, the fucked out look in your eyes, the shakiness in your body, you look at him so dangerously. 

And he can’t do anything but watch you in awe for a moment, how you wrap your much smaller hand around his dick, pressing your thumb against his slit to tease him. 

“O-Oh fuck…” He shudders, eyes nearly closing at only that. 

You bite your bottom lip, trying not to drool as you roll the condom over his length. You look up at him again to find him staring at you with flushed cheeks and lust in his eyes. It’s dark in the room, but you can see each other just well enough, the moon shines brightly into your room tonight. 

You can’t even help yourself when you cup his cheeks and pull him down for a kiss, closing your eyes when your lips meet again. 

He grabs your waist, making you crawl back until you’re far enough on the mattress for your head to hit the pillows when he pushes you down. He presses his hands on your knees and you part your legs eagerly for him. 

His fingers trace your skin as he brings his hand up, passing your hip bone and your waist and grabbing your boob with roughness as he slips his tongue into your mouth, wanting you to taste yourself. He pinches your nipple with his fingers, smirking against you when you whine and writhe underneath him. 

You reach your hand down, not wanting to waste any more seconds, you wrap your hand around his dick again, jerking him off a few times before you line him up with your entrance, whining desperately again. 

Steve breaks the kiss and opens his eyes to look at you, “you’re so desperate for my cock, huh?” He breathes, still playing with your nipple. 

You raise yourself up a little, pecking his lips again as you nod your head. 

He can’t believe that you are this needy for him, that you are giving him those eyes. 

If only he knew how many times you have dreamt of this moment. 

“Please,” you whimper. 

“Please what, Blondie?” He teases you as his hand now slides down your stomach, fingertips brushing your clit, making you shiver. 

You blink and you breathe heavily as you place your hand on his shoulder, “please fuck me, Steve… Please…”

A satisfied smirk appears on his face, your desperation making him feel smug – but the smugness quickly dissolves into something else when he pushes inside you and feels your tightness around him for the very first time. 

You breathe in harshly and hold it, shutting your eyes when you feel him stretching you out. Nothing could have prepared you for this moment, not his tongue, not his fingers, nothing. The stretch is both painful and delicious, it makes you gasp but it also makes you drool as he inches deeper and deeper. 

Steve can only curse and whimper in pleasure as he watches his cock disappearing inside of you, he doesn’t push in fully though, too scared to hurt you. 

He bites his bottom lip, bottoming out again before he pushes back in, listening to the wet sound and the neediness in your voice as you moan. 

“M-More,” you whine, your eyes now watching him, “please…”

His dick twitches at the sound of that and at the look on your face. 

“Fuck me, Steve.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice, he pushes in deeper than before, until he’s buried inside of you completely. Usually, he would take a moment to catch his breathe, to adjust to the tightness but he is too eager, too desperate for this. So he grabs your hips and he starts thrusting, slowly at first, not wanting to hurt you. 

You gasp, hands finding the sheets beneath you again as your eyes follow the movement of his hips, watching the way his dick slides in and out of you. You throw your head back and look at his face next.

Strands of his hair fall in front of his eyes, his lips are puffy from all the kissing, his cheeks are flushed. He is moaning, for you, because of you. You are in utter bliss, feeling pride swell in your chest when he moans even louder as you clench around him. 

He watches the way he fucks you, eyes growing darker and darker and then, he looks at your chest, the way your tits bounce from the movements, something that prompts him to move his hips even faster, fucking into you harder now. 

“F-Fuck,” you whine loudly. 

His eyes meet your face and the pleasure on it is suddenly not enough for him, he wants to throw you over the edge, he needs to hear you scream for him. 

He curses under his breath when you clench around him again. 

Steve’s knees dig into the mattress, his fingers now holding you even stronger than before, he is sure to leave bruises but you don’t mind, you would never mind. He fastens his pace, railing into you and thrusting in and out of you, making you fall apart in the matter of a few seconds. You can’t speak, even if you tried. All that you can do is moan pathetically, letting him use you. 

“You take me so well, holy shit, Blondie,” he whimpers, voicing out his thoughts, brows scrunching together as he watches you, your lips parted, moans that he only ever dreamt of leaving you. “L-Look at you, fuck. If I knew that my cock would shut you up, I would’ve done this a long time ago.” 

“S-Steve!” You whine with a high pitched voice, something that only leads him to pound you even harder even if a tiny part of him wants to mock you. 

Your eyes roll back, the tension in your stomach rolling back in, only stronger and hotter this time, and you already don’t know what to do with yourself, but when he suddenly reaches for your legs, hooking the back of your knees around his forearms, your eyes widen when they meet his again and a wicked smirk appears on his face as he starts fucking you from a different angle, snapping his hips into yours so wildly that you can’t help but cry out as your eyelids become droopy, tears now begging to be released, just like the drool that starts coming from the corner of your mouth. 

The room now filled with nothing but the dirty sounds of your skin slapping together, the squelching noises from your pussy and his pleasing moans. 

Steve watches you in awe, eyes growing wide when he sees just how cockdrunk you are for him. 

He fucks you recklessly, eagerly and as though it is the last thing he will ever do. 

Your tears fall freely, your whimpers turning into cries the moment his thumb finds your clit again. 

He feels your walls clenching around him, gripping his twitching cock tightly – and he knows you’re close, he knows that he is close but he doesn’t want to stop, he doesn’t want this moment to be over. 

Steve savors every second, pounding into you roughly and harshly, grabbing your face with his left hand when your head falls to the side, he needs to watch you, he needs to see you when you cum around him. 

“You wanna cum for me?” He asks breathlessly. 

You nod eagerly, without letting a word fall from your lips, you only nod and whine. 

You feel the overstimulation rushing through you, the fire in your stomach that is about to burst into something bigger. You can feel him everywhere, he is so deep inside of you that it makes your body shake like crazy, but it feels good, so good that it almost wants to make you cry for different reasons when you think about how this could be a one time thing. 

His hand leaves your face, he throws his palm into the pillow next to you, holding it tightly as his own eyes fall shut now, moaning your name as he picks up the pace of his fingers against your clit, his hips snapping faster into yours now. 

“I-I’m–”

“I know, I know…” He coos, letting his face fall into the crook of your neck. 

You feel the urge to feel him even closer, so despite the weakness in your body, you use every bit of your strength to lift your hand and press it against his warm back. 

“Cum for me,” he whimpers into your neck before he bites into your flesh, marking you up for anyone to see. 

A loud gasp tears out of you as his last thrusts grow rougher and his fingers move faster, you can’t help but dig your nails into his back, scratching him as stars blur your vision and the shockwaves grip your body so tightly as you cum around his cock, just as he spills into the condom, moaning into your neck. 

You can’t even feel your tears nor the drool still coming out of your mouth, all that you can feel is him. Your arm now falls back onto the mattress and your eyes shutting as the darkness starts to envelope you. 

“F-Fuck,” he whispers as he stops moving, pressing another kiss to your neck before he pulls out of you, hissing at the feeling. 

He can feel your trembling body beneath his, the sighs that keep falling from your lips, he smugly pulls away to take a look at you, only to see your eyes dropping as you start to lose your consciousness. 

“Shit,” he whispers, cupping your cheeks, “you okay, Blondie?” 

You nod as best as you can, slapping his hand away as you snuggle into the pillows, not even bothering with the blanket. 

He scratches the back of his neck, pressing his lips together as he watches you fall asleep so quickly. He can’t help but feel smug as he looks at the way your thighs are trembling still. 

He stands up, leaving the room to walk into the bathroom, where the light is still turned on. He steps inside, noticing how the mirror is a little fogged, the smell of vanilla and strawberries lingering in the air, making his stomach flutter ever so slightly. 

Discarded clothes lay on the ground, he picks them up and puts them on the counter before he rolls off the condom, tying it up before he throws it into the trash. He turns towards the sink and washes his hands before he walks back into your room, a smile tugging on his lips. 

He plops down beside you, pulling the cover over you and himself, scooting closer to you. 

He doesn’t know where this will go or what is going to happen tomorrow but as he looks at your stained face, and every single previous second replays in his head, he is sure of one thing. 

There is not a single fucking chance that this is going to be a one time thing. 

♡

tagging friends and mutuals!

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @maroon-cardigan @munson-mjstan @sherrylyn628 @munsonlore @ibellcipem @joekeerysmoles

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve harrington smut #steve harrington enemies to lovers #stranger things angst

[transvampireboyfriend]

Had this “Steve only hates impersonal nicknames” idea in my notes for a while and then after seeing @cholvoq​ ‘s wonderful art I had to turn it into a real thing for Valentine’s Day. This is 2.4k, i’m SO sorry edit: you can now read this on ao3 :)

Eddie’s a nickname guy. It’s always Dusty this and Gare-Bear that and JeffJeff here and Bobbie there and it’s Mikey and Maxxii and Nance-pants and Johnny and… big boy?

Him being a nickname guy makes it near impossible to hide his crushes. Thankfully, Steve had been really cool about it. Sure, he seemed a little stunned, but Eddie still had all his teeth in place by the end of that interaction, so he had called that a win.

He hadn’t known then that Steve was… different. Or he was starting to see it but what he thought was shocking then had really been just the tip of the iceberg. He hadn’t expected Steve to be nice. Or funny, or caring, or protective, or understanding.

He had learned all of that after everything. During chats on Hellfire nights while the kids cleaned up after themselves, during hangouts at the diner with Robin and Nancy, during Saturday afternoons when he went to pick out a movie only to end up talking with Steve, their conversation flowing until it was cut short by Steve’s shift ending.

After some time, Eddie had gotten to know Steve even more during long weekday nights when one came over to bring the other something they left behind, or to share a record, or to demand the beers the other owes or to show the other a stupid article in a stupid magazine only to end up making dinner together and watching a movie afterwards.

They stopped making excuses about two weeks ago.

Eddie had asked “do youuu… wanna come over?” on Saturday night, while nervously twirling his keys as Steve locked the front doors of the Family Video.

The evening chill had cut right through Eddie’s leather jacket as his keys clanged against his rings. But Steve had nodded with a smile and asked “pizza?” on their way to their cars, and Eddie had forgotten all about the cold.

Point being, Steve had been just fine with ‘big boy’ when it happened. Eddie’s a nickname guy. Him and Steve are hanging out more now, and so, Eddie’s been calling him more nicknames. Some of them are very intentional, others come completely without thinking, and it turns out, Steve takes issue with a few of them.

The first time it happens, Eddie’s underneath his van trying to get the damn thing to cooperate, the recent winter was tough on it, and it keeps dying out on him.

Steve sits nearby perched on a little stool, wearing his Family Video vest since he came by right after finishing his morning shift to see if they could make plans for lunch. Eddie suggested they grab something at the diner if and when he finally gets the van to start back up and Steve had agreed to wait.

He’s been telling Eddie about tonight’s basketball- game? match? super bowl? Is there such a thing as the major leagues of basketball? Eddie’s not sure, but he adores the sound of Steve’s voice and he’s kind of invested in the drama of players switching teams and retiring and whatever else Steve wants to tell him about. So, he’s been listening, not really bothering with asking for clarification for what he doesn’t understand yet. He’ll figure it out as they go.

He's blindly patting the floor around his legs for his rag, when he feels Steve put it right in his hand.

Eddie’s relieved. "Thanks, bud!" he says, the nickname just rolling off his tongue effortlessly, no meaning attached.

It gets kind of quiet all of a sudden. After about five seconds of Steve not talking, Eddie comes out to check on him, and finds him frowning at his legs.

"Don't call me ‘bud’" Steve requests, looking up at his face, his tone just a tad harsh. Eddie would think he ran into King Steve if he didn't know any better.

As it is, Eddie gets Steve probably thinks the nickname is childish or patronizing, so he doesn’t think twice of it, just gets a little sheepish and says "sorry, Stevie".

Steve smiles at that, a little cocky. He does his little mean girl shaking his head thing like he just got exactly what he wanted. Eddie feels his face twist a bit in confusion, but he likes it when Steve gets a little mean so he doesn't say anything about it and just dives back under his van as Steve resumes their conversation.

 The second time it happens, they’re outside the supermarket. The kids shot out of the van as soon as it rolled to a stop, Steve calling out a warning after them while still listening to Eddie explain why Star Wars and Star Trek are actually very different but really good in their own way. Their conversation carries on as they hop out of the van, lock up and walk to meet at the front.

“I’m telling you, Star Trek is great. You would love it,” Eddie says, “you just have to give it a chance”.

Steve rolls his eyes at him, but Eddie can see his smile.

“Ok, alright,” Steve answers, “you can show me tonight then”, it’s almost too nonchalant. Eddie has to hide his grin.

Steve’s been suggesting they hang out more and more lately, and he can’t help but feel a bit hopeful. They clearly enjoy each other’s company, their time together is never dull, Steve seems to be really comfortable around him and maybe, just maybe…

“Should we get beers then?” Eddie asks, excited at the prospect of some more time alone with him.  They haven’t had a weeknight hangout since Eddie fixed his van last week. He kinda misses the very specific color of Steve’s eyes in the Harringtons’ yellow living room lamplight.

“Yeah,” Steve says, his eyes get soft in a way Eddie only started noticing a couple of weeks back, “we can watch it at my place” he adds. Eddie thinks he definitely hasn’t seen him look at anyone else like that.

To shake himself out of the spell of the prettiest boy he’s ever met making the prettiest eyes he’s ever seen at him and ONLY him, Eddie grabs Steve by the wrist and starts marching them towards the supermarket’s front doors.

Without thinking, Eddie says "c'mon man," as they go.

Steve, who started easily following him (like he always does these days), suddenly stops in his tracks. Eddie gets pulled back and almost stumbles on top of Steve. He'd get flustered if Steve wasn't frowning at him like he’d just said the most insulting thing he’d heard this month.

"Don't call me ‘man’" Steve says. Eddie feels his eyebrows raise a bit.

He debates asking why but doesn't question Steve in the end. He’d rather offer understanding than judgement to him any day.

So, Eddie takes advantage of Steve's wrist in his hand, and squeezes there a bit, says "I'm sorry sweetheart" sincerely, looks into Steve's eyes so he can see Eddie means it.

Steve blushes a bit then, not really used to the nickname yet, Eddie just got the balls to start using it last week. Eddie himself is not really used to seeing Steve blush, and at something he says? It’s too much power for one metalhead.

But he gets distracted from Steve’s blush because it happens again, Steve basically preens like a peacock once Eddie switches nicknames. Looks smug, like he has Eddie wrapped around his finger and well, Eddie guesses he does, so, no arguments there either.

He just smiles back at Steve, really, has no other choice, it’s not like he can control how he reacts to the most gorgeous fucking face the universe could ever come up with. But he tugs him along again, Steve happily following this time.

The next time it happens, Steve’s leaning against his kitchen island, with Eddie leaning across from him against the counter.

The party is watching a movie in the Harringtons’ living room and at some point, Eddie got up to get himself another soda, Steve not so subtly followed after him, taking the empty popcorn bowls to the sink. He struck up a conversation and there they stayed.

Eddie’s been turning the small gesture around and around in his head. Clearly Steve’s not shy about seeking him out, and he’s obviously good with the party knowing, which means a hell of a lot because those are Steve’s people, that’s his family.

Eddie’s honestly running out of excuses to not ask him out. Seeing him reaching out to bump his sneaker against Eddie’s boot when he says something funny, laughing just a little too hard at Eddie’s dumb joke; seeing his eyes widen a bit when Eddie compliments him; seeing him notice when Eddie is holding back from talking too much, and not letting it go until he thinks Eddie’s shared all of his opinions on the subject; Eddie thinks maybe he can be brave, when it comes to Steve.

And this week might be the perfect time.

Here they are still, the movie long ended and several easy conversations floating from the living room to the kitchen, where they’re still engrossed on their own.

“I mean I taught the kid how to do his hair for god’s sake!” Steve is saying, Eddie’s laughing easily, and he has a slight suspicion Steve’s acting way more annoyed than he really is because he knows Eddie dies laughing every time Steve roasts the kids.

“Just, if he’s gonna give me hair advice, he should work on that goddamn tone. At the Very Least.” Steve finishes, Eddie giggling all the while at his Annoyed Mom tone.

"Yeah, dude!" Eddie agrees, wanting to egg him on, but Steve's face suddenly falls and whatever remark Eddie had locked and loaded just fades away.

Eddie blinks perplexed; he’s getting déjà vu.

Steve frowns at him, says "Don't call me ‘dude’".

It’s eerie, only he sounds a bit annoyed this time.

Eddie thinks, maybe someone called Steve ‘dude’ before in an unpleasant way, so he doesn't pry.  Instead, he takes the chance to call him a nickname he likes more, and says "Sorry, pretty boy", his heart fluttering in the milliseconds he has to wait for Steve’s reaction.

And it happens one last time: Steve absolutely beams at that one, his smile so bright it makes Eddie want to jump in place.

He leans further back on the counter returning the smile, not noticing the common thread in Steve’s reactions to him switching nicknames.

But then the glint in Steve’s eyes suddenly brightens a dim corner of Eddie’s brain. He gets this feeling that reminds him of a perfectly set up riddle or finding that one perfect note for his latest song. It’s like everything suddenly just makes sense.

Eddie feels realization dawn on his face as he pushes himself off the counter to walk right into Steve’s personal bubble, grabs both of Steve's hands.

"Steve" Eddie says, not even caring that he sounds like the name is dripping in honey when it comes out of his mouth. With how sweet Steve is, it might as well be.

Steve just looks at him a little stunned, but doesn't say anything. Eddie draws circles in the back of his palms to reassure him.

"Why don't you want me to call you ‘dude’?" Eddie asks, trying to find out if this whole thing is what he thinks it is.

Steve looks down at their joined hands,.

"You call Nancy that sometimes..." Steve mumbles.

His answer would sound inconsequential to the unsuspecting, certainly would have to Eddie as late as last week, but Eddie thinks he’s finally getting it, and he hums his understanding.

"How ‘bout ‘man’?" he asks

Steve replies "You call Robin that sometimes..." his eyes still on their hands.

Eddie nods his agreement.

"I call everyone those things" he points out.

Steve agrees. "Exactly" he says, finally looking at him again, sounding annoyed and confirming Eddie’s suspicions.

Eddie feels his face split into a smile. He wants to grab Steve’s beautiful freaking face and just plant one on him.

"Can I still call you sweetheart?" he ventures instead. The nickname brings the hint of a smile to Steve's face but then he seems to realize something not so pleasant.

"Do you call someone else ‘sweetheart’?" Steve asks in return.

"No one" Eddie says, shaking his head, his tone vehement.

"Then yes" Steve finally answers. Eddie's heart wants to beat right out of his chest.

He interlocks their fingers to ground himself, Steve looks down at their hands and smiles at the sight.

"So, you don't want me to call you something I call someone else?" Eddie states, more than asks, calling Steve’s eyes back to his again.

"Anyone else" Steve confirms, holding his gaze.

Eddie lets out a small shuddering exhale and feels his heart fluttering in his throat, he really cannot believe this boy.

"Steve" Eddie drawls, dripping in honey again, his hands coming up to cradle Steve's face because he really can't resist anymore "Sweetheart" he says.

Steve's eyes grow a little wide and he starts blushing so much that Eddie can feel it in his palms.

"Steevieeee" Eddie sinsongs, squeezing Steve's face a bit "Pretty boy" Eddie calls him. Steve just keeps looking at him and a small smile blooms in his pretty, pretty face.

"Would you let me take you out to dinner this Friday?" Eddie finally asks him, his fingers curling to the back of Steve's head to play with his hair there. Steve's eyes get even wider.

" 's Valentine's this Friday" he points out. Eddie knows.

"Mmhm. Want you to be my Valentine." Eddie tells him, tugs his hair gently, "How's that sound?" he asks, bold in a way he never has been before. Steve blushing does things to him.

"Sounds nice" Steve answers. He smiles and nods while his hands hook on Eddie's belt loops.

"Then it's a date?" Eddie asks, trying not to sound too eager. He thinks he fails spectacularly but Steve beams and pulls him in to kiss his cheek.

"It's a date" Steve tells him, his breath ghosting on Eddie's cheek and making him shiver.

Steve pulls back, lets go of Eddie’s belt loops and tugs on a strand of his hair gently, smiling like the cat that got the cream as he walks back out into the living room.

Eddie’s gonna make this the best Valentine’s Day date Steve has ever been on.

#steddie #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steddie headcanon #steddie fic #Steve maybe gets a lil emotional the first time Eddie calls him 'sunshine' #steve harrington #eddie munson #adhd/autism eddie my beloved #fanfic #stranger things #sigh. im not really satisfied with this I wish I could get more of Steve in it #i ESPECIALLY wish it was better so it could live up to that AMAZING ART OMG IM INLOVE WITH IT 😭 #but it's almost not Valentines anymore so here #have it #i just want it to leave me alooooneeeeeee #but anyways #i might put it on ao3 later #i just get so embarrassed about my other fics but i also dont wanna orphan them idk #asdfghjkllkjhgf #whatever. good night #i hope your Valentines was nice <3 #bossy mean girl princess steve supremacy forever #.

[withacapitalp]

All this was inspired by listening to She’s So Overrated by Madilyn Bailey so fair warning LMAO. Also this got SO MUCH LONGER THAN I MEANT IT TO IM SORRY IT WAS JUST ME WRITING DOWN AN IDEA......

Okay so I’m having thoughts about modern AU lead singer Eddie Munson who’s been in the industry for years with the boys. Corroded Coffin is a staple of the metal industry, but for a few years he’s been feeling really stalled in his career and just stuck in place. He’s still making music, still performing, but he feels like he’s getting farther and farther from that kid who used to scream and sing in his closet bedroom in the shoebox apartment he used to share with Wayne. 

So when he and the boys are in an interview and the interviewee brings up how “King” Steve Harrington from The Four is trying to reinvent himself with the help of former bandmate Robin Buckley, Eddie goes off. He works himself up into a little tizzy, ranting Munson Doctrine style about how a former teen pop star trying to become some second rate folk singer isn’t anything special, and that he wouldn’t be caught dead cashing in like that. 

That Steve’s music is bad (even though he’s honestly never listened to it) and “King” Steve is overrated. How even Beiber is better than him. He’s just bullshit. 

Of course the interview goes viral, and finds its way to Steve and Robin. Robin listens to it first and she doesn’t want Steve to watch it. She knows how close things like this cut him (especially that word), and how he’s been dealing with a lot of hate from everyone even from former fans who are confused by the sharp contrast of his new music- aka the music he’s finally being allowed to write now that he’s broken away from his momager- but Steve makes her show him. 

She’s sure that she’s going to have to spend the next week rebuilding his confidence. 

And instead, Steve’s lip curls into a smile, and he grabs his songbook, telling her to find her guitar. 

Eddie wakes up five days after the interview to a huge flood of social media notifications, a dozen missed calls from the boys and his manager and his uncle. He ignores them all and goes to see what he fucked up this time. 

Eddie opens Youtube and it’s at the top of his recommendations. The thumbnail is Steve and Robin sitting together with a guitar in her lap. The title of the video is just one word. 

Bullshit. 

This can’t be good. 

Eddie listens to it even though he doesn’t want to. He’s a lot of things, but he’s not a coward. Not anymore. He listens to it because he has to know how much he’s fucked up. 

And then he listens to it again. And again. And again. 

It gets stuck in his head. All of it. Not just the song (which admittedly is pretty killer) but also hearing the flippantly mean words he had casually thrown at Steve being shoved back in his face. He had seen Steve as an abstract thing, just a symbol of everything wrong with the industry, not a real person. And now this actual human being that he’s hearing has turned all of that garbage into a song that feels more genuine then most of the music on the last two albums he wrote himself. A song that has heart, joy, and a strong current of pain underneath, especially in the bridge where Steve just sings the word bullshit over and over. 

There’s even more than that. He also sees the way Robin and Steve interact while they’re working the smiles, the jabs, the silly little way Steve bobs his head along as he listens to her play, the way they both collapse into giggles at the end as Steve directly quotes the part of the interview where Eddie said that Steve “is just another laundry basket devil trying to act like a big shot now that he’s too old for teen girls to moon over.” 

He can’t remember the last time he and the boys had that much fun making a song. 

Hell, Eddie even sees their apartment. It’s a pretty nondescript room, but he can see the wear and tear on the furniture, the cobwebs in the corners of the room, the slightly drooping houseplant with the name “Dart” lovingly painted on its pot. It feels like a home, and as Eddie looks around at the bedroom in his far too big mansion, he feels even more like a fraud. 

Eddie listens to the song on repeat for most of the morning. In the afternoon he finally answers everyone, and starts to put his plan into motion. 

By that evening he’s on the phone with Steve asking him and Robin to help Corroded Coffin write their next song. 

#steve harrington #stranger things #st #eddie munson #steddie #steddie ficlet #st4 #steve and eddie #Robin buckley #platonic stobin #platonic soulmates Stobin #stranger things au #modern au #rockstar Eddie munson #pop star Steve harrington #And yes in my head they fall in love #and robin falls in love with CC manager Chrissy Cunningham shhhhhh #corroded coffin

[formosusiniquis]

There's something about the idea that every adult that spends more than ten minutes alone with Steve Harrington is instantly enamored with him 

The King Steve era house parties don't get broken up by the cops anymore. Steve is too far from his nearest neighbors for a noise complaint and the cops who would do it like Steve. They know they don't have to worry about any underage drinking and driving incidents after a Steve Harrington party because anyone who doesn't have a DD just crashes at the Harrington place, it's not like they have to worry about getting out of there before his parents get home.

His teachers can't help but let certain things slide. Excusing a middle school Steve's tardiness, the Harrington house is such a long bike ride away from the school and the bus route doesn't reach the grounds of Loch Nora. High School Steve's grades are average at best and his attention drifts, but his questions if poorly worded are insightful at heart and if you catch him away from the friends he tries too hard to keep he's polite and willing to spend time discussing his school work. By senior year they're excusing his tardiness again, they all know he has to swing by the middle school on his way over; and his forgetfulness too, two concussions in as many years it's a wonder he's not worse.

Joyce Byers, who by all accounts should hate this boy who fought her son and belittled her family, already has a snag in her armor thinking about a little boy who used to bike to Melvalds all alone for more milk and the sugar dusted cereal his mother didn't like him to have. Has her walls damaged by Jonathan coming home with a Christmas present they both know Nancy Wheeler even in her middle class glory couldn't afford. Has the adoption papers ready to be notarized when that same little boy, just a little bit bigger, offers to cart her Will around town since he knows she and Jon are busy and he has nothing better to do; really, and Will is the only one that ever says please or thank you.

Hopper, who largely left the everyday police work to the other officers, didn't interact with Steve much until the Upside Down business started. He's ready to add Harrington to the list of kids he'd die to protect the second the bloodstained boy cracks open a bleary eye from the Byers' sofa. Concussed and happy for it since it meant the youngest ones were safe.

Claudia Henderson has decided that the law has little to do with family. She's seen too many young men in the hospital grieving loved ones they can't see while parents who don't care make decisions for the dying. Steve Harrington is hers now has been since he did her Dusty's hair. The Sinclairs only let Erica roam the mall on her own on days they know Steve is working. They know no matter what Erica and Lucas promise the two of them aren't staying together. There's something rotten in Hawkins, and the kids don't whisper as quietly as they think they do. They know there's something they are missing, but they don't need to know everything to know they can trust the boy who put himself bodily in front of their child to protect him. Karen still occasionally mourns the loss of Steve as a son-in-law but the fact that he still drives Mike around even on his surliest days, she couldn't ask for more.

Wayne Munson lasted the longest. A product of night shifts and a powerful wariness around anyone whose tax bracket exceeds his by more than one jump. But he knows the kind of skittish that Steve is, remembers an eight year old boy with eyes he hadn't grown into who used to skitter away from a sharp tongue or raised hand just the same. Even then all it takes is sitting next to Steve on a rare night off, the game fuzzing in and out on the TV, listening to him softly explain the rules of it all to his boy relating it back to the ones of that dragon game Eddie likes so much and he's gone. Steve's a hard worker, a wage slave as much as Wayne these days, seems wrong to begrudge him just cause the house he's kept at is a little bigger than theirs. There are worse boys to have as future in-laws, even if he is a Cubs fan.

The only person who doesn't seem to get the memo is Richard Harrington. So rarely around his own son he isn't swept up in the charm. Richard and Stephanie Harrington make their way back to Hawkins, unannounced on a Tuesday. The sleepy morning hours are still lingering when they make their way into the house, through the foyer, and onto the kitchen; following the sounds of crooning oldies. Richard has long thought his son a disappointment, too lazy to get into college and too spoiled to leave home, catching him dancing around the kitchen like a fairy with some trailer trash punk is really the last straw. He lets the wife he wishes he didn't have make some asinine comment to this freak that's in his kitchen, and turns to the child he never wanted to say, "I want you out, I won't have a queer living under my roof."

Stephanie and that long haired bastard both rear back like they've been slapped. While Richard is forced to watch as the son he's neglected straightens up, every ounce the man every other adult on Hawkins has watched him become, look him in the eye and say, "It's not your house, it never was. Grandpa Otis left it to me. So if you've got a problem with me or my fucking boyfriend, you can get out of my house. Looks like you're already packed."

That empty house gets emptier as Richard, alone, takes the furniture he paid for and the clothes that lingered in the closet; but it's quickly filled with the hand-me-downs of everyone who has ever fallen for that Harrington charm. They're all too happy to help Steve fill what's his.

#steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things fic #steddie #steve harrington hc #wayne munson #joyce byers #chief hopper #jim hopper #steve harrington's parents #i find steves mom to be fascinating and i genuinely think she really loves her son #i think she saw her boy happy in the kitchen with eddie and immediately wanted to meet him #maybe made a comment about eddies hair like mother like son #i think theyre relationship is extremely complicated but i think push come shove her son will always beat her husband #i couldnt think of a good way to work the buckleys in here but they also think steve would be an excellent son in law

[jo-harrington]

Freaky Friday - A Stranger Things Story (Part 1)

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Word Count: 3.5k

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader, Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader, Eddie and Steve (Enemies to Friends)

Summary: Eddie thinks that Steve has everything in life handed to him on a silver platter (including his new girlfriend who Eddie has a crush on). And Steve just can't believe that the kids look up to Eddie the Freak, or that he lives his life without giving a single fuck.

Must be nice. But you know what they say, the grass is always greener.

Warnings/Themes: AU with no Upside Down. Body swapping, dark magic/alchemy, unrequited love--some crushes at least, Babysitter Steve, No Upside Down means slightly still King Steve, unresolved feelings, manipulation/deception, Reader gets a nickname (Honey), no Y/N if I can help it, no smut in Part 1 but liable to be in other chapters

Note: After a very hot and fast suggestion by @shiftingtherain, this mini-series was born. And instead of working on Store Manager Verse like I wanted to, here we are. This part is a little shorter...it's the intro, sue me. Next few parts will be a tad longer.

Credit for the header partially goes to me for the design and the logistics but I was tired, so I may have borrowed gifs from @emziess and Netflix itself as a jumping off point (with permission from Emzies and Netflix is a corporation so they can rot). I can only do so much guys, I also had to write this thing too.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

If Eddie never saw Steve Harrington again in his life, it would still be too soon.

He didn't always indulge in rentals from Family Video—if it was too cold and wet to have band practice in Gareth's garage, or if he was having an especially bad week at school, or if he needed something a little more realistic than the illustrations of Heavy Metal magazine to help him satisfy his needs—but today just had that special feel to it.

He'd gotten a B on his math test, Rick had been feeling a little under the weather and let Eddie make the rounds to his usuals for a sweet little cut, and he had found a dusty old book about alchemy and occultism at the library that was going to help him put the finishing touches on tomorrow night's Hellfire session.

For all of that, Eddie thought a little reward was in order.

A little Dark Crystal, a little pizza from Lou's, a little weed...he'd be having the best Thursday night.

Except...

For the past twenty minutes, he'd pretended to hem and haw over the selection of movies just so he could glare across the store at the counter, where Steve stood, flirting and making grandiose promises, with you.

He burned with jealousy, and God, it took almost everything in him not to gag as Steve reached across the counter to slyly hold your hand. And everything else for his heart not to break as you just let it happen.

Eddie didn't know how or when or why this started—when Harrington had gotten his claws into you and how he had managed to charm his way into your heart—when it should have been Eddie instead.

Eddie'd had a crush on you for years but had always been too nervous to do anything about it.

You were a year younger than him, and friends with his pal Mickey's younger sister, so he'd seen you around quite a bit. Smart and funny and pretty; maybe not as unpopular as Eddie was, but certainly not in the running for homecoming court or whatever other social hierarchies were in place at Hawkins High either. He figured...you know, maybe once he got to senior year he'd get the courage. Maybe take you to prom or something; who wouldn't want to go out with a senior?

But he'd gotten the notice from Higgins that he wouldn't be graduating with the rest of the Class of '84 and it really put a damper on his plans.

He had been hopeful again the following year, actually had a few classes with you and sat with you for partner work when no one else wanted to work with him, when they laughed at him. You weren't even afraid to go up to him in the cafeteria to ask a question, or walk with him in the hall if you had to go in the same direction for your next class. You'd talk about assignments mostly, but he savored every little fact he could learn about you. What books you'd been reading, the fact that you watched Svengoolie on Saturday nights—just like he did—or that you'd had some squabble with Mickey's sister over a scrunchie of all things and were no longer speaking.

But Eddie knew how bad his grades were—somehow even worse than the year before—and aside from the work you did with him, he knew it wasn't gonna be enough for him to graduate. So he wasn't gonna put himself in the position for you to laugh in his face—not that you would but...just in case you did—by asking you out.

He thought you would disappear from his life after you graduated. Get the hell out of Hawkins the way everyone else wanted to. But no. You took a few classes at the community college and worked the dinner shift at Benny's a few nights a week. You'd been there every Tuesday night, when he and the guys grabbed food after their gig at the Hideout. The usual booth reserved, drinks already poured by the time they sat down, and their usual orders already written in your little order pad.

You usually gave him extra whipped cream on his slice of cherry pie too.

The guys always urged him to ask for your number...but he never did. How could he? Even if you were stuck in this town the same way he was...he just couldn't bring himself to do it.

And now...here you were, listening to Harrington talk about some great surprise he had planned for your third date the next day.

Eddie wondered why you hadn't screamed in outrage when Steve mentioned how much Nancy Wheeler had liked it when he took her to this mystery place. He would have definitely expected you to at least flinch at the mention of his ex-girlfriend's name.

"It sounds really great," you said instead, smiling and nodding. "I get out of class at 3 on Fridays...should I be here around 4?"

"4 is perfect, honey," Steve grinned.

Eddie couldn't stand to hear whatever sickeningly sweet goodbye you both would come up with so he just grabbed whatever tape was in front of him and approached the counter. You and Steve both flinched when Eddie slammed his selections down on the counter to be checked out.

“Uh…I’ll see you tomorrow then. Bye Steve,” you muttered, eyeing Eddie with a half-smile that felt a bit sad. “Bye Eddie.”

"Bye honey."

“Bye honey,” Eddie mocked once you were out the door, then turned back to Steve. “You gonna try and make goo goo eyes at me next Harrington? I don’t have all day.”

“Jesus Munson. What’s up your ass?” Steve scoffed, grabbing the tapes.

“I’m just trying to get my videos and go.” Eddie rapped his knuckles on the counter. “Not really interested in the kind of customer service you're trying to provide."

Steve wondered what the likelihood of getting fired would be, if he just punched that smug look right off of Munson's face.

Keith hated the guy too, he always left the Adult section looking like a mess. Maybe Steve would get a promotion instead.

For years Eddie roamed around Hawkins being a general menace with his gaggle of friends. Causing trouble, shouting at people, making faces at old ladies. He’d gotten “taken in” to the police station one too many times but always seemed to make it out without actually being arrested. Which baffled Steve; Eddie was a drug dealer for crying out loud.

And yeah, Steve had even asked him to come and deal at a party or two but…people like that were bad. Simple as that.

Even after all of that, after you got past the “bad boy” persona….he was a fucking nerd. He wasn’t even cool like the bad boys in movies were. Steve felt like someone was tricking him the first time he had walked past the Hellfire Club’s table in the cafeteria. For all the leather and chains and band tees—all the talk of satanic rituals and blood sacrifices—there was sure a lot of talk about elves and…and bards and Star Wars.

So it shouldn’t have been a surprise to Steve that the kids would flock to Eddie by the time they made it to Hawkins High.

But it had been. A huge shock.

His unexpected little gaggle of morons…weren’t really his anymore.

Steve had dropped Dustin off on the first day of school and said “don’t get into any trouble.” Even made Robin promise to keep an eye out for him. He expected the kid to…join the mathletes or something. Get roped in with the science nerds.

But by the end of the week, the kids were all clamoring about how they would need to reschedule movie nights with Steve so they could go to Hellfire club with Eddie.

Steve couldn’t understand it. Eddie was a freak, a punk, some good for nothing…and now the kids were suddenly following him like he was some sort of prophet. Spreading the word of Obi-Wan Kenobi.

See? Steve could do the nerd talk too when he wanted...thanks to Dustin.

Who, much to Steve's annoyance, was apparently Eddie's biggest fan. The guy could do no wrong in Dustin's eyes, and it really irked Steve.

Will and Lucas were spending Saturdays at the library—not for homework, but for research because apparently Eddie really liked incorporating mythology into his campaigns. (Whatever that meant.) Mike was growing his hair out because "Eddie's hair was cool.” What about Steve, whose literal nickname was The Hair? Shit, he'd even seen Eddie give Max a ride to school on a few occasions when he was late dropping Robin off. And he knew Max and her mom had been having a hard time since her step-dad skipped town and Billy...

Steve knew some of the town gossip about Eddie was just a bunch of bullshit...but if Max Mayfield was cool with him?

Yeah, he just couldn't help but be suspicious of the guy.

Regardless, the sooner Steve could get him out of the store, the better his night was gonna get.

...actually...

"That's gonna be $10." Steve announced dryly.

"Woah, $10?!" Eddie scoffed. "I have a membership."

"Since when?" Steve asked, hands immediately landing on his hips.

"I use one every time I'm in here."

"Yeah you use Reefer Rick's."

"So?"

"New policy," Steve lied, hoping it would get Eddie out of his hair for a good while. "No sharing memberships outside of your family. Last I checked, your last name isn't Lipton. So you either cough up the $25 for a new membership Munson, or the $10 for your rental. What's it gonna be?"

Eddie grumbled and dug his wallet out of his pocket, slamming the money on the counter.

"Any candy?" Steve asked mockingly before grabbing the cash.

Eddie grabbed the tape and grumbled under his breath as he exited the store.

Yeah, Steve wasn't gonna be dealing with him any time soon.

For a second though, as he went to start processing returns, he wondered...

If Eddie was in some ritualistic cult...what kind of curse could he possibly put on me?

But that was a dumb thought to have.

Eddie's night just went down hill from the minute he left Family Video.

He didn't notice that they'd given him the wrong pizza at Lou's so now he was stuck with some specialty veggie pie with broccoli on it, the tape he had grabbed indiscriminately had been some artsy foreign romance crap, and just now he'd just spilled Dr. Pepper all over his Hellfire notebook.

"Fuck," he shouted as it spilled over the side of the coffee table and onto his sock-clad feet. He couldn't give a shit about the carpet, he could even ignore his wet socks, but his notebook. Weeks of work, planning and toiling over the most sadistic campaign.

He liked to keep all of the notes of Hellfire's completed campaigns, a sort of...record for future kids to look back on and reference. And now this specific masterpiece would be lost to memory.

He cleaned everything up as best he could before making a quick trip back to his room for an extra notebook or something he could use to salvage his plans for tomorrow's session. He had always been really bad at...keeping spare notebooks on hand. Even the ones he'd used for class always ended up covered in his drawings or notes, little bits and ideas of dialogue he could use for speeches or NPCs.

The best he could find was his math notebook from last year which, surprisingly, sat relatively untouched.

Eddie knew why: that was a class he shared with you. And as he opened to some random mostly-empty page, he saw his little scribbles in the margins surrounding half-faded, penciled-in algebraic equations. Daggers and hearts and his and your initials intertwined together.

It was the one class where he would never encounter partner work with you, so he felt compelled to fill the pages with his daydreams instead of fantasies and lore. You would never see it.

"Well," he huffed as he dropped back down onto the floor and slapped the notebook onto the coffee table. He grabbed his pen and scribbled over the drawings on the page. "Now that she's with Harrington, no use living in this fantasy. Fuck, I was stupid, so stupid to ever think she would want anything to do with me."

He grabbed the dusty old alchemical book from the library and found his place, staring at old sigils and runes and text indiscriminately until he came upon one that looked too perfect for the campaign. Concentric circles, arcane lettering, angular lines...

While Eddie would usually use a clean page for something like this—something he would hand off to his players—he drew a copy of the sigil onto the page and planned to rip the edges off, maybe singe them with his lighter to make it look more authentic.

He kept staring at the still-noticeable doodles beneath the pen scribbles and his heart ached a little in his chest.

Yeah, he would definitely want to burn those too.

By the time he was done copying the sigil, a wave of exhaustion overtook him and he glanced down at his watch.

It wasn't much later than he usually went to bed on a weeknight...

He stared at the half-ruined notes for tomorrow's session that he still needed to rewrite and sighed.

"Fuck it, I'll just redo them in the morning." He got up and stretched his arms over his head. "I can just sleep in tomorrow. Skip class. Show up for Hellfire. Who cares anymore.”

He put the rest of the pizza in the fridge for Wayne and then headed to bed, only to be plagued with dreams of scribbled out love hearts, movie theater candy, guitar solos, and big red gum.

When Eddie woke up the next morning, he felt...honestly felt like he was floating on a cloud. Every muscle in his body felt looser, yet somehow tighter at the same time. His skin felt tighter, like it wasn't right, like it didn't fit somehow, it was suffocating him.

He must have died but he wasn't quite sure if this was heaven or hell.

His eyes burned and blurred slightly as he opened them and what he saw was...unexpected.

Gone were the off-white walls, his posters, the piles of his crap, and that concerning patch of probably-mold in the corner of the ceiling. Instead there was a sturdy ceiling, plaid-papered walls, and matching curtains?

Eddie groaned and rolled over.

What the fuck was this place?

There was a slam of a door somewhere that practically shook the walls surrounding Eddie and as he sat up, he found himself only wearing...briefs? He didn't wear briefs.

This wasn’t his bed, wasn’t his room…wasn’t his… body?

He looked down at his chest, his arms, his hands…his fingers weren’t right, he didn’t have this many freckles and moles, he didn’t have…abs, if that’s what you could call the slight definition on his torso. Still it was more than his body had ever had. His skin…was itchy and mostly hairless.

Eddie reached up and touches his hair—shorter than he was used to, not curly…at all—then his face, as if that was any indicator to what he—

“A mirror!” He exclaimed. His voice…sounded familiar, but different. Fuck what kind of dream was this?

Because it had to be a dream right? It had to be. How else did he wake up in someone else’s body?

He pushed himself out of the bed, walking slightly off-cadence, which…yeah probably came with the territory of your brain needing to get used to a new body. Fuck…was his brain even his brain or did his mind just get transported what was happening?

Ugh it was too early to think about that.

Eddie slowly cracked the bedroom door open and peaked into the rest of the house. He spotted a bathroom just across the way, otherwise…shit, this place actually looked a little familiar. Where the fuck was he? Who the fuck was he?

He quickly crossed the landing into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him. He heaved a breath and leaned back against the door for a moment to calm himself; his hands were shaking and felt cold. Could he even feel his fingers? Nice to know the occasional nervousness that snuck up on him at his lowest moments hadn’t been left behind in his old body, that they’d followed him to this one.

His body…would it still be in his bed? What if he really had died and…had jumped into his new body? Was this reincarnation?

Fuck, if he was dead…Wayne would find him. Could he even…see his uncle again? How could he ever explain who he was?

Eddie felt the tears prick his eyes and his throat tighten and he slapped his face a few times.

“Come on man, come on,” he muttered. “It’s not that bad. It’s only…mildly awful. Fuck, ok. Just go, just look, just…rip it off like a bandaid.”

Eddie took a deep breath and nodded, then crossed the short distance to stand in front of the sink. He stared at his new feet, wiggled his new toes. You never…appreciated the toes you had until you have new ones.

That was awful and you’re an idiot. Just look.

Eddie closed his eyes again and turned his face up towards the mirror. He could do it. He would do it.

He opened his eyes.

“Jesus H. Christ!”

Steve woke up feeling like absolute shit. Everything ached—like he had pulled a muscle or something by sleeping crookedly—he had awful cottonmouth, and he had inhaled…some yarn or something because he woke up coughing and gagging until he got the intrusive strands out of his mouth.

“Gahh, shit, shit,” he said and scratched at his throat. He sounded hoarse. Ugh was he getting sick? He’d have to ask his mom to bring home some soup or something.

Could he call out of work? Shit he had to take Robin to school. She could walk today, he felt awful.

Steve blinked his eyes open and took in the unfamiliar popcorn ceiling with growing concern.

He looked around at the…piles of garbage and the cracks in the plaster walls partially covered by band posters...and felt the rise of panic grow within him. He tried to recall the night before.

He’d wrapped up his shift at Family Video, gone home and had a rare dinner with both of his parents, then…felt extremely tired and went to bed.

So how did he end up here…wherever here was?

This was a kidnapping; it had to be. He was…drugged—explained the cottonmouth—and kidnapped. And now someone was holding him for ransom or something to…blackmail his father? Thomas Harrington was kind of a dick sometimes, sure, but still…he was a pretty decent guy. Who would want to blackmail him?

“H-hello?” Steve called out. “Anyone there? C-can anyone hear me?”

There was some shuffling outside of the door of the room.

Thankfully Steve wasn’t tied up or anything. God, what kind of kidnappers were these? He quickly glanced around the room for a weapon of some sort and he immediately spotted...

A guitar? A few guitars actually. Man these kidnappers really liked music huh?

One was a weird shape--he'd seen some hair metal bands use guitars like that in magazines, but he'd never seen one in person--and was a mottled red color. One was just what you'd expect when someone said "electric guitar." And one was acoustic and looked like it could pack a real wallop.

Bingo.

Steve pushed himself out of the bed and immediately jumped because whatever had been in his mouth was on his shoulders now. He reached up to grab it: hair. Long, wavy, messy...knotty and frizzy. Like it hadn't been brushed for days, maybe weeks?

And his arm, sticking out from whatever t-shirt he'd been put in...was lithe and weak and there were tattoos. On both arms. A creepy claw hand and a bunch of bats.

What was this? How long had they held him hostage for? No wonder they didn't feel the need to tie him up! He'd been knocked out cold.

He needed to get out of here. Now. He needed to get home.

Steve crossed the room to grab the guitar when he noticed it. At first he thought it was another person. But no, it was just a mirror...and in the mirror...his reflection.

Only it wasn't...his reflection.

It had startled him and he had jumped. Then he moved his arms a little and watched the figure in the mirror mimic him. Over and over.

A wave, a turn, a funny face.

He couldn’t believe it. This had to be a joke. A dream. A nightmare.

Because it was him, his reflection. But it was not his—Steve Harrington’s—reflection.

It was Eddie Munson's.

#Eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson fluff #Eddie munson stranger things #Steve Harrington x reader #Steve Harrington stranger things #Eddie and steve #stranger things fic #Eddie munson fic #eddie munson imagine #Steve Harrington imagine

[denim-devil]

Doggy Style | Douche!Steve Harrington x friend!M!Reader

💌 - After a squabble with his best friend and GF, Nancy Wheeler, the fresh cuts and gashes he became equipped with pushes him to break the boundaries between you and his internalised anger…

Warnings - Mentions of Violence, Angry!Steve, Rough!Steve, Friends to lovers??, NSFW, PIA, Spit as lube, Bareback, Doggy Style, Mean!Steve, Mentions of slurs, Lowkey pwithoutp

The punch was what started your upcoming doom, yet the slap from Nancy is what pushed Steve over the edge.

The squabble happened quickly, almost like a blur, blending in with the immediate backhand she delivered to his bruising cheek. You stood in place, stuck on the spot as if you were trapped within a glass box sinking into the depths of the sea, eyebrows raising at the situation at hand.

It wasn’t a shock, he had it coming, it was as if you noticed just how provocative he could be, bending his cold demeanour and impulsive personality into one, like an old piece of gum sticking to the bottom of a shoe.

You watch as Nancy scurries away, it was clear she was upset, knowing the group that currently rained the halls of Hawkins High as royalties of a long line of bullies had clearly changed the towns mind as a whole of her sweetness and the cliche teachers pet act she put on for performance.

The word “whore” was painted in a deep crimson red across the abandoned cinema which faced the busy highway had began to ruin her reputation, no reaction from Steve had led her away with tears rolling uncontrollably down her porcelain cheeks.

As much as you wanted to run after her, comfort her and tell her everything would work out after a couple of weeks, you couldn’t, the gravitational pull Steve had on you kept you on the same spot, watching the backs of Tommy and Carol walking away, giggling to one another, it was definitely Steve’s time to be kicked from his throne that he had owned since recess.

There he stood, small cuts littering his pale skin, one atop of his lip leading up just underneath his perfectly shaped nose an another which faded into the brunette of his right eyebrow.

Anger was written across the features of his bruised face, his head turning ninety degrees, slow and unsure wether or not to face you, uncertain on how you’d react to the dark glare he shot your way, like a maniac with a glock, prepared to use his poisonous tongue if you uttered a single word.

“What?”

He spat with vulgarity, his tone deep, full of gloom and crassness as if you were the cause of his downfall, his crash and burn like an unfortunate plain crash which he so happened to board.

You shook with anxiety, to nervous to even begin to speak never mind back chatting the current king of Hawkins High. The alley was silent, Steve stood with both arms hanging by his sides in defeat, his eyes still locked onto you like a sniper with it’s target.

You so happened to be in his view, the red dot pointed at the centre of your clammy forehead. It was inevitable, after the previous interactions between his so called friends and girlfriend, the anger he shone so brightly with like sunrise had wrapped around you like a thick blanket, creeping up and around your neck, almost suffocating.

“Steve-“

“Save it…”

He remarked quickly back with lack of refinement, intentionally setting it straight, letting you in on his current feelings which to felt heavy and uncomfortable, you were scared to say the least, just what did Harrington have in mind for you.

His patience weight thin with you and it was showing a little to clearly, his hands balling into fists, knuckles turning a shade of pale white, nails digging into the skin of his palms, he wasn’t going to do anything…was he?

“Why didn’t you have my back?”

His question stilled in the air like a muggy late night of july, rocking you to the core, unraveling each part of your mind and how you stuck in the same spot whilst Steve tried defending himself. No answer presented itself, only a shaken sigh rolling from the tip of your tongue.

He noticed how you had stepped back ever so slightly, your demeanour had changed, lacking confidence and stance which egged Steve on, pushing for the answer but also something that had lay dormant deep within him for weeks now, it slowly creeped it’s way from his chest downward.

“To much of a pussy to throw a punch? You seriously are pathetic aren’t you-“

Tears pricked the corners of the very eyes that still locked onto his dark hazels, watching as he marched towards you, closing in on you once you feel the cold brick of the alley’s wall against the small of your back.

He scoffed in your face, lips tugging up into a smug smirk as if achieved the very goal he was looking for, like a famous footballer making his debut on the field, finally having you backed into a corner with no escape.

You shivered, like a shadow he loomed over you, his presence almost as tall if not taller then himself, making the space between you both much smaller, pushing you further into the bricks that now warmed up to your sticky figure.

“Seriously? Not gonna bite back, your just making this easier for me”

You felt the flutter in the base of your chest bloom like a kaleidoscope of butterflies, heart beginning to race at the thought of Steve making a move along the lines of intimacy, it felt like a trick, dipping your hand into the mists of a candy bucket, searching for the obvious choice.

“Steve I don’t understand how I could’ve-“

Steve cut you off with another scoff, it was cocky and demeaning, throwing you off and turning the clogs in your head quicker as you tried to solve his made up solution for your absence.

“Don’t you think you should be paying me back for standing there like some freak?”

A single tear told it all to Steve, you were easy to wind up, to sensitive to even stand up for yourself. You caught onto what he had planned once he grew bored with dementing you, ushering out a breathed “fag” before rolling his tongue, his head dipping until his lips neared the shell of your ear.

“Even Nancy had the balls to do it, maybe you like this”

The tears grew heavy, washing away every piece of confidence Steve managed to break down, he resembled a wrecking ball, one swing and you could feel the crushing in every inch of your body.

“Please stop, I-“

Blubbering like a fish it what gave Steve the interest and intention of gripping onto your waist harshly, turning your body as your front faced the corroded gravelled pavement. Your back faced him which hid the travelling pink blush that ran from the base of your neck upward, towards your tear stained cheeks.

The silence grew thick, not as thick as the tension that stunk out the secluded alley way that began to get dingy from the lack of sun, secreting you both even more. The lack of comments but the scrambling of his hands unfastening the front of your denim jeans made you question what was in store.

“Didn’t take you up for being such a slut”

He spat with vengeance, pushing down the band of your jeans, white boxers following as they feel to pool around your ankles like a puddle, the cooling air hitting the damp skin of the two pert globes that had Steve almost salivating at the sight.

He took a second to himself, revelling in the sight of your new profound immaculacy, almost losing himself as he was daunted with the realisation of his actions, his motive still was unclear to you but you could only dream of what he had planned.

The stillness triggered a sharp huff from you until you heard the crumbling of stones underneath trainers notifying you of movement. A sharp smack rang throughout the desolate alley, his palm landing flat against the centre of your left cheek which forced your body forward into the brick, knocking the wind from your lungs.

The whine that followed suit attracted another smack, this time to the right, it stung like an angered wasp, a marking of fingers and a palm bloomed across the skin of your backside, growing into small bumps yet it wasn’t hard enough to break skin, it was hard enough to force your back to arch, presenting yourself perfectly for him.

A low “fuck” grumbles from his chest, forcing it’s way into the air and through the small holes of your ears. His motive began to grow clearer once another smack atop of the markings forced a yelp from you, eventually breaking the skin, a small welt appearing, filling with crimson blood.

“Please stop, can’t handle it-“

You quipped back between short breaths, it wasn’t the truth, you wanted, no, you needed more. Your cock jumped as the thought of Steve using you for his pleasure, more so then the previous anxiousness that prepared you for his current onslaught.

“You can, you will- having way to much for this to end, come on, you can handle more right?”

A mopy, struggled “yes sir” rumbled from the depths of your slowly dipping chest, earning yet another smack, it was softer, as if he was testing the waters, hearing the quiet whispery moan you released on impact, his smirk grew smaller, his mouth growing slack as he began to show interest, changing the dynamics swiftly.

“Say it again, louder”

Once more, a soft smack and rough squeeze to the back of your thigh automatically forced out a shy “yes sir” which gave Steve the answer had been searching for.

“Atleast your good for something, just a dumb little fag, all splayed out for my use, and my use only-“

Wiggling back only enticed him further, drawing him in like a hunter to it’s prey. That’s when it began, the obvious unzipping of trousers cut through the heavy lingering of sexual tension, the crumpling of boxers following suit an an eventual wet thud, the moist tip of his cock meeting the hairy skin of his abdomen.

Eyes travelled up the centre of your arched back, the view was something to fawn over, his cock aching with want as if it had a mind of it’s own, although this isn’t the first time Steve has thought about you inappropriately.

“Your loving this aren’t you?” He whispered gently yet sternly, copious amounts of pre dribbling from the tip of your cock, joining the dusty pile of rocks littering the hard ground beneath you. He took note, keen on the idea of touching you.

But he held back, instead he brought himself back, taking a few awkward steps, his trousers restricting his foot work as he waddled closer until the heavy weight of his dick rested on top of your ass.

You nod in return, both quick and suggestive. It felt like an eternity before Steve began to massage the spongy wet tip against the puckered skin of your entrance, swiping each bead of pre back and forth, up and down.

wiggling once more against him grants the a boost of confidence, rebuilding what Steve diminished back up, pushing back against him, relieving the ache running from base to tip.

“Fuck- you want it don’t you? Needy little fag”

His tongue was sharp, cut you deep in ways that had you clutching onto the wall, hands flattening against the coolness as you spread wider, giving him the chance to prod the tip against your quivering hole.

He slapped his cock twice against, the lewd wetness ringing out into the quiet nights air, he dipped every so slightly before pushing in to your surprise, the burn from just his thick tip entering you leaving you no choice but to get it over with, stilling once you relax, giving him the power and control to push past the resistance the ring of muscle once held strongly, now weak against the raw intrusion.

The bones of your knees grew weak, legs wobbling, trying the very best to hold yourself up, ears catching onto the dirty words Steve spat as he sank in slowly, each inch adding fuel the burn which grew like a brewing fire, rapidly.

A hand brushes past his v-line. You push back in his abdomen wanting the tingling pain to stop, it resembled pins and needles digging into your skin, jabbing at the warm velvety walls of your insides.

His own hands managed to restrict your movement, caging both hands together behind your back leaving you with a sense of vulnerability, now growing stronger by the second.

“Gonna take it fully okay, no pulling out or pushing me out, gonna take me fully, fuck-“

Words were no forte, especially when his cock took control not only over your mind but the sentences you tried to string together, eyes now languidly rolled back into your head as he lay still, fully sheathed inside of you completely, the set of heavy and full balls he adorned now rested against the cleft which separated each cheek.

“Didn’t think you’d actually listen, got me balls deep inside this little ass of yours”

He huffs once pulling back, watching each inch slip from your hole, the tip now present against your clutch. He toyed with his cock, giving each cheek a slap before sinking back in with ease.

A few raspy “fucks” slip from his open mouth once he sets the thrilling pace, each plap and thrust of his hips railing through the empty alleyway, sounding out into the quiet streets.

Steve had no remorse behind his movements, his wants clear with predatory intentions and his instincts pushing you further into the coldness of the brick-layered side wall, increasing the arch of your back into a slanted curve.

His access was much easier, his pace increased, ravenous and body shaking which had your limp cock weeping and leaking. He took pleasure in watching you crumble beneath him, taking all of his length each time.

“Fuck- already so close, so much better then Nancy shit-“

Each prod of his spongy, angered tip against the small bundle of nerves tucked deeply inside had you seeing stars and the once clear vision you were acquainted with now fuzzy and distorted as you accepted the fate you were sealed with.

“Steve- please I can’t take anymore”

You choked out a sob once the coil snapped, each glob and shot of thick clear liquid splattered against the wall, dribbling onto the gravel below. Steve could feel it, how you fluttered harshly against his achy, twitching cock.

“So good for me shit- knew you’d take it for me”

He mumbled low and thickly into the shell of your ear, his hands now holding you still as he hammered against your red-raw backside. He was chasing the glory and bliss he so craved.

Now flaccid, you felt every jump from the way his cock crammed itself fully inside and up against the spot that had you fumbling for forgiveness, it was to much yet not enough.

“So tight- gonna make me cum, need it-“

He wasn’t far behind, stilling behind you as he fell limp against your damp back, his cock jumping as each rope painted your insides, his groans almost animalistic like a dog in heat, pushing what he had to offer deep into your freshly filled gut.

“Fuck yeah-“

It all made sense, the closeness, the douche like persona that riddled his body which protected his feelings and thoughts, the way his hand’s softened on your hips, how he kept himself flat against you, how the wet trail of kisses from the dip of your back to your neck marked the very moment he allowed himself to be truthful.

This wasn’t about revenge, this was about claiming something that so happened to be his, that happened to fall in line.

“You tell anybody about this…you won’t make it to next summer”

The threat lingered like an unwanted piece of meatloaf, stale and fragile, he felt like the fork that pierced the thick lump, essentially playing with his food, still keeping it on his plate.

He pulled back slowly, his cock now soft slipping from you with a wet pop, the load he planted so deeply dribbled out downwards, leaking onto the back of your abuses thighs.

“I-I promise”

You mumble back quickly, no second thought behind it. Steve wouldn’t do that, deep down you both knew he was to scared to become what he truly desired, yet he still clinged to the title he had been given, his popularity and his harshness. Although, the title has friends had clearly changed.

“That’s good- get dressed okay, don’t want people to see what I did to you”

Secretly, Steve wanted to boast, wanted the whole world to know, wanted to see you every sunday night just to fuck you over and over…was he committed to the thoughts that ran through him like a bullet train…?

#male reader #x male reader #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x male reader #smut #douche!steve #idk what this is #enjoy <3

[xhoneygirlxx]

One Of The Girls

Modern King!Steve x Fem Reader

summary: Steve only hits you up when it’s convenient for him and you’ll always answer because it feels nice to be what he wants, even if it’s just for a night.

warnings: fboy!Steve, modern au! circa 2018. reader and Steve are both in their early 20's. reader is given the nickname 'trouble'. ooc steve, he's a big meanie and pretty much a douche bag. angst. Minors DNI smut: unprotected p in v (wrap it up kiddos), fingering, oral receiving (m), daddy kink, swearing, slight dom/sub, cream pie, insinuations to reader being on birth control, possessive steve, toxic steve! hair pulling. Steve's job is mentioned briefly, I like to think that this version of him works for his dad landscaping, so that's what i put lmao. this is named after The Weeknd's song from the idol and I also use his song 'Try Me' in this, awe well. if i miss anything please let me know! also bad writing and grammar mistakes, not proofread.

a/n: hi my loves! i was inspired to write something based off of this blurb. again, smut is so not my strong suit so i beg that you be nice to me :) i also want to mention that when i was looking for pics for this fic, i couldn't find one picture that gave me fboy vibes bc joe keery is simply bf coded lmao. thank you all for interacting with my posts and just being so lovely to me! i appreciate you all and i hope you enjoy this <3

divider by: @saradika

You knew from the moment you met Steve Harrington it would be trouble, that he'd have you locked down for as long as he wanted. The pretty boy with the nice smile, who said all the right things and made all the right moves. You were a fool from the get go and he knew, he knew it the moment you let him hit that you were his.

Everyone knew about 'king Steve', the boy with the puppy dog eyes but a closet filled with so many skeletons that the door refused to shut. From what you heard he wasn't a relationship kind of guy, that he collected bodies like he was paid for it, and then went on his merry way no matter what carnage he left behind.

He was bad news and you swore you would stay away, not get swept up in the honey like vortex of his eyes, but when he said your name it sounded so right and who were you to refuse someone as tempting as him.

The name satan isn't far off for him, both so beautiful and angelic but rotten to the core, so evil that you often wonder if they were ever created with a soul.

As much as you wanted to let him go, block him out of your life completely, you simply couldn't. All your friends thought you were stupid for playing such a dangerous game but they didn't know him like you did. They didn't know how he actually took care of you when he was done abusing your poor hole, how he'd buy you little gifts simply because it reminded him of you, and they certainly didn't know the boy who would make you laugh so hard your ribs bruised.

At least that's what you tell yourself, how you sugar coat the simple fact that Steve Harrington treats you like trash because let's face it, he does. For every thing he does 'right' he does a million other things wrong. He goes weeks without texting you and the only time he does is when he's desperate. He only takes you to secluded spots just so he can get a nut. And most importantly, he tells you everything you want to hear so that you stay.

You were connected to Steve by a string, no matter how far you pulled away he would pull you right back in. If you were a masochist then he was a sadist and you would take whatever torture he gave you with the biggest smile on your face because at the end of the day you were his and only his.

It's a Friday night and while you'd usually be out with friends, you opted to stay in tonight, too tired from the work week to physically get out of bed.

Under the warmth of your comforter, you scroll through Instagram blindly liking different post on your timeline. The white numbers in the corner of your screen read a little bit past midnight and as badly as your eyes wanted to shut, your brain simply couldn't resist the glow of your screen.

A notification pops up at the top of your screen and your ready to fling it away to dismiss it when your heart rate picks up at the name.

IMessage:

Harrington 🙄

Your finger moves faster than the speed of lightning, hitting on the bubble to open the messaging app.

Harrington 🙄: wyd?

It's a simple enough message but you sit and ponder how to respond. You don't want to come off too desperate but you also don't want to wait too long to respond knowing he has other options lined up. Without overthinking too much more, you move your thumbs across the keyboard and sending your message.

Harrington 🙄: wyd?

You: nm, why?

Waiting with bated breath, you watch the text bubble pop up to notify he's typing.

Harrington 🙄: wya? lemme scoop you

Bingo.

You: im at home. how long do i have before you get here?

Harrington 🙄: bet. gimme 15 mins.

Your heart shouldn't be beating as fast as it is and you shouldn't be hopping around with joy like Snow White when she's singing to the birds, but like always Steve says jump and you say how high.

It should make you sick how he hasn't texted you in two weeks, only now asking to come get you so he can fuck. It should make you sick when you put on your brand new panties, that you may or may not have bought for just him. It should make you sick when you spritz yourself in his favorite perfume, growing flustered at the memory of him complimenting you for it.

All of it should make you sick to your stomach but that's not a possibility when he chose you. He chose you to keep going back to, he chose you to continue seeing and not one and done your ass. A twisted part of your brain is so convinced that he has some sort of feelings for you, the way you do for him. It's like a kaleidoscope, no matter how you twist or turn it, the colors are always so beautiful.

And if everyone wanted to tell you any different, all you had to do was show them the sparkling diamond necklace that hung from your chest. A thoughtful gift from the man they all claimed didn't have any love in his heart, even though you and everyone else knew it was a way to show his claim on you.

The familiar sound of Steve's blacked out Jeep pulling in your drive way makes your heart jump with excitement. Wasting no time, you dash down the drive, not wanting to keep him waiting any longer.

Pulling the door open you're met with the all too familiar scent of him, Ralph Lauren Ultra Blue swirling in your nose and going straight to your head.

He looks so good in his grey joggers, hugging his thick thighs that he knows drive you crazy. The white Hanes tee he wears is crisp, like he ironed it before putting it on. The sleeves wrap about his toned chest oh so perfectly causing some of his wild chest hair to poke out. To add the icing on the cake he's wearing that gold chain, that damn gold chain you loved looking at when he had you on your back.

"Hey trouble." White teeth flash in the darkness of the car, like the moon that's hung in the sky.

"Hi Stevie," You internally cringe at how needy it sounds, "how was work?" He gives you a small chortle at your question, still smiling that damn smile that could cure deceases.

"It was fine, had to cut the college's lawns. Ya know, the fun stuff." You nod your head at his answer, too nervous to even give a spoken response.

"Anyway, I thought we could take a ride down to lover's." It's said like it wasn't common knowledge already. Giving him a small okay, he leans over and places a quick peck on your lips, before putting the car into drive.

The ride to lover's lake from your house was a short seven minute drive but for some reason it felt like the roads were getting longer and longer. You want to jump out of the car, bile rising in your throat knowing how this is going to end. The heartbreak, the sadness you were gonna feel the minute he pulls out was already hitting you and it hasn't even happened yet.

His radio plays at a louder volume, The Weeknd's 'Try Me' bumping through the speakers.

You're the best I ever had

Baby girl, remind me, mind me

Let me now if it's on

And you know where to find me, find me

Havin thoughts you never had, yeah

You want to roll your eyes at the words but then again maybe he put this on because this is how he felt about you. The logical part of your brain tells you to get real but when you feel the fuzziness in your cheeks, your logic is all but ignored.

Maybe this time will be different, you think.

When he pulls onto the dirt path, he pulls the car under the big oak tree he always does. You wonder if this is where he brings all of his hookups but decide to push that though in the back of your head, not wanting to ruin the night.

"I missed you, trouble." Steve leans his back on the driver side door, watching you with those eyes you feel for all those months ago.

"And I bet you say that to all your little girlfriends." You jest back, making him roll his eyes dramatically.

"You and I both know that's not true." The low husky tone in his voice makes the fact he didn't deny the accusation of having other girls around, go down that much sweeter.

"You're all talk Harrington," You say seductively, leaning over the center console, "Why don't you show me how much you missed me?"

Steve's smile is wicked, pulling the keys out of the ignition, pointing you to get into the back. When you're settled in, he maneuvers ungracefully over the center console, making both of you laugh.

Sitting his body in the middle seat, you swing your leg over his lap, immediately locking your lips with his. Steve's not as rough as he usually is, taking his time like he's trying to memorize the way your mouth felt and tasted.

When you try to speed it up, he wraps his hand in your hair, yanking you off of him.

"Slow and steady, baby. We have all the time in the world." With your hair wrapped around his fist and his hard cock digging into your thigh, his voice is all but calm and sweet.

Moving back in to meet his lips, you match his energy. Rolling your hips slowly, you relish in the way he groans into your mouth. When you drag your hips over his again, you shudder with the way his hard on catches on your throbbing clit. Wetness starts to fill your panties, tummy tightening with want.

Steve's hands move to your hips, guiding your movement. Spit soaked lips leave yours, moving along your jaw down to your neck. Leaning your head up to the roof of the car, he takes that as invitation to massacre the tender skin.

He sucks hard, right where your vein pumps frantically with lust, leaving another mark for you to carry around. One more tattoo right on your heart that beats for him.

Pulling away, a thick finger grabs onto the chain that hides under the collar of your sweatshirt. The small diamond glittering softly in the darkness of the night.

"Look at my baby, wearing her present so proudly. Isn't that right?" It's cocky and it should make you shiver with an ick but it doesn't. It only fuels your delusions.

You hum in response, too dumb off of his kiss to even open your mouth.

"Nuh uh, I asked you a question." Moving your sight down to him, he's already looking up at you. His lips are shining, cheeks puffed from the smile that glitters up at you.

"Yes, daddy." A deep growl comes from the back of his throat, a feral look painting over him.

You pretty much get whiplash from how fast he rips off your sweatshirt, revealing the pretty lace bra in the color he adores so much on you. His lips suck harshly on the skin of your chest, leaving reminds of him for only you to see.

"Can I suck you off, daddy?" It's breathy and so desperate leaving your mouth, all that talk about not wanting to look needy right out the window.

When his head moves away from the valley of your cupped breasts, he looks like a kid on Christmas. Eyes twinkling with excitement, like he's been waiting for all year round to hear those words.

"Don't need to beg me now, trouble. It's all yours." The smirk that paints Steve's lips is devilish and if you were in the right headspace you'd scoff at his condescending tone. But right now he was giving you exactly what you wanted and you weren't about to complain.

Clambering off of his lap, you move into the seat next to him, kneeling down. You could double as a dog who waits patiently for their owner to drop their treat, tail wagging and heavily panting.

Steve lifts his hips pushing down his joggers and underwear in one go, his heavy cock jumping up in excitement, bouncing off of his stomach.

The saliva in your mouth pools, almost escaping through your slightly parted lips. Your metaphorical dog bone waiting in front of you but you can't have it until he tells you to, so you wait for him to get get comfy again.

Looking over at you, he raises an eyebrow as if to say 'well?', and that's all you need to hear to move forward, making sure to arch your back when you do.

You decide to tease him a bit, kitten licking the head before sliding your tongue up the prominent vein that sat on the underside. The feeling of him shuttering spurs you one even more, bringing a hand up to his heavy ball sack and gently running a finger over it. You can feel your panties being drenched even more with wetness, just from the thought of how he tastes.

As weird as it might sound, you loved Steve's dick. It was a good seven inches, with the slightest curve that made him hit that special spot every time. He was thick too, so thick you that he always needed to prep you with his three of his fingers before hand.

Bringing your head back to the tip, you dripple spit onto it, smearing it with the precum that's already beaded out. Ever so slowly, you take your hand and begin you jerk him at the base of it. Looking up at him, you can see him eyes closed, brows furrowed together, as his chest moves rapidly up and down.

Deciding that you can't wait any further, you put him in your mouth and start bobbing up and down. Not even halfway down his shaft and you begin to gag around him. Using your hand to take whatever your mouth can't, you move faster. The raunchy sounds of you slurping him up fill the small space of the car.

When Steve jolts his hips forward you can't help but choke, throat closing around him, making him moan deeply.

"I know but you can take it, right?" You do your best to nod your head with him in your mouth. You look up at him with glassy eyes, drool coming out both sides of your mouth, and he chuckles at you.

"So fuckin' pretty." Steve says breathlessly and you beam at the praise, going back to taking him further in your mouth.

You push through the want to gag, putting more and more of him in your mouth. You want to prove something to him, prove that no one else can make him feel like this and it seems to be working when he whines so loud it rings in your ears.

Pulling your hand off of the base, you cup his balls in your hand, messaging the sack gently in your hair. The heavy weight of his hand lands on the top of your head, once again yanking you by the hair.

You whine at the loss of his heavy cock in his mouth, pouting childishly at him when your at eye level with him again. He's panting hard, cheeks fleshed pink, and his hair messy from him running his hand through it.

"It was so good, honey," he breathes, "but I really wanna finish inside of you."

The sentence makes your belly burn even harder than before. Trying to move around in the cramped backseat is challenging, both of you pausing to laugh when your pants get caught on your foot awkwardly.

Once your leggings and panties are discarded somewhere on the floor, Steve takes his time admiring you. His gaze burns you with every movement of his eyes. Here you are, clumsily sprawled out for him in the backseat of his beloved Jeep.

Bringing a hand to your thigh, he rubs it up and down the skin, causing the skin to raise in goosebumps every time his finger would catch on the lip of your heat.

You whimper at him, raising your hips trying to meet his touch where you need him most. Tisking down at you, he shakes his head.

"What's the magic word?" He teases and you pout even harder.

"Please, Stevie? Need you." You say wetly, the burn of tears coming back in your eyes. Steve leans over you, so close that if you brought your head up just an inch, your noses would touch.

"The right answer was, 'Steve is the coolest', but I'll let it slide since you sound so cute." He whispers to you, placing a quick kiss to the tip of your nose.

The tip of his finger runs along your slit and you mewl at the feeling.

"Do you always get this wet, trouble? Or is this just for him." The smile pulled on is one like the joker. Sick and twisted and yet all you see is an angel from above.

"S'for you. S'always for you, daddy." It comes out like a slur, so drunk off of one little touch.

"That's my girl." It's more like a whisper when it comes out of his mouth.

His finger diving into the sticky mess that's been made in between your legs. Swirling his finger around your hole, spreading the wetness up to your bundle of nerves, moving in slow figure eights around it.

Steve hasn't even put a finger inside you yet and the lewd squelching of your pussy can probably be heard for miles. The feeling of him putting more pressure on your clit makes you jolt with pleasure. When the first finger breaches your hole, your eyes close in euphoria.

Even with just one of his fingers inside of you, it feels way better than anything else. The thickness of it stretching you further than two of yours could.

Still using his thumb to circle your clit, he pushes another finger in. Starting off slow, he pumps both into you, curling them up in a 'come hither' motion.

You're high off of him, off of the way his hands feel, and how good he's making you feel. All of that waiting and wondering when he'd reach out to you paying off in this very moment.

"You can take another one, right? You gonna take three of daddy's fingers like the good girl you are?" His voice is intoxicating and you drink it right up.

You nod your head, babbling 'please daddy' and 'more, more, more". He's eating it right up, the way he's got you dumb and he hasn't even fucked you yet.

Without another word, another thick finger joins the other two. This time he decides to go faster, hitting that spot you struggle to reach on your own. With his thumb still swirling around and now three fingers deep, you can feel the tightness in your stomach building.

You can feel your slick dripping down your ass onto the leather seat beneath you. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, legs pulling up from where he's sat between them, toes curling in a death grip.

"I'm gonna, fuck, I'm cumming," The sentence gets cut off with the air that's trapped in your throat.

His movements don't stop, guiding you through your orgasm. When the waves of your orgasm washes over you, your legs relax like they're filled with jelly, slobber running down the side of your face, and your chest moving unsteady as you try to catch your breath.

You hiss when he removes his hand from you, mourning the loss of feeling full. Moving his fingers to his lips, he sucks your juices off of them one at a time, releasing them with a pop when he's done.

Using his other hand, he brushes some of the hair that's sticking to your face with sweat behind your ear. Placing delicate kisses to your cheeks and forehead, he glances down at you. The harsh black that once enveloped his irises are now softened with a look that you have yet to decipher.

"You did such a good job for me, sweetheart." He coos at you, running his thumb along your jaw. "You okay? Need a break?"

"No, I'm okay Stevie." Your smile is nothing but pure happiness. Blame it on the after glow of your orgasm all you want, but the happiness is purely due to his attentiveness to you.

Placing one more kiss to your deprived lips, he moves his attention to his aching cock. Spitting into the palm of his hand, he jerks himself a few times before lining himself up to your entrance.

Pushing in gently, his tip breaches your hole and all the air is punched out of your lungs. Even with his prepping, you never seem ready for the real thing.

Going inch by inch, stopping every so often for you to catch your breath, he finally pushes all the way in. After waiting for the okay, he doesn't hesitate to pound into you.

You swear you can feel him in your stomach, reworking each and everyone of your organs, but you could careless when it feels this good. You want this feeling forever, the feeling of his weight on top of you, him spreading you out so well.

The gold chain that hangs from his freckled neck dangles in front of you, hypnotizing you with the way it moves back and forth. With all the strength you have, you watch him trying to remember how he looks when he's inside of you so when he ultimately ghosts you, you can close you eyes and imagine it.

Steve looks so beautiful like this, eyes closed tightly, browns pulling together, pink puffy lip tucked behind his straight teeth. You want to take a picture, hang it in a museum for all of the world to see, but this is for only you to see. Your own little memento for you to keep to yourself.

"Fuck you're so wet, hmph, and warm. Jesus" Steve grits out, bringing you back to reality.

Skin slapping off of skin echoes out, loud moans and groans making a lovely soundtrack just for you two.

"Shit, right there!" You cry out when his cock hits just perfectly on your cervix.

"Bullseye," He whispers to himself before ramming into you even harder than before.

Your mouth curls into an O shape, no words or sounds coming out. The feeling of your finger nails raking down his back backs him grunt loudly.

"You and this pussy are mine. Tell me you're mine." He demands but you can't do it, too overwhelmed with the way your stomach has started to tighten.

Because you don't answer right away, he snakes his hand down to your abused clit, circling it again causing you to jolt from overstimulation.

"Don't make me tell you again, trouble." He spits out.

"I'm yours Steve. S'yours." You shout, your orgasms approaching faster and faster.

"S'always gonna be mine, right? No one else?" He question and it sends your head reeling.

"Always yours, always fuck, yours." You're babbling now, tippy toeing on the brink of your release.

"Come on baby, cum for daddy. Cum on my cock." He pants, going faster and faster as he does.

Without argument, you're hurdled over the the edge, gushing and pulsing around Steve. He continues to fuck into you, chasing his own high now.

"Cum in me, daddy. Wanna feel it so bad." You coax, wanting to feel the warmth of his seed filling you up.

"I love how you feel, baby. You got, motherfuck, no idea." His strokes are starting to lose rhythm, sloppily moving as he continues.

"I love this pussy s'much. Fuckin' love yo-" Before he can finish his statement, he cums with a guttural moan.

Your mind goes blank, eyes snapping open with confusion. Was he about to say he loved you? Is that what he was going to say? Every single question runs through your mind while the boy in question is collapsed on top of you, breath choppy and erratic as he comes down.

After what feels like the world's longest minute, he removes himself off of you, pulling his dick out from your cunt. You whimper at the feeling, missing him even more than before.

Wordlessly, Steve pulls open the center consul and takes out a couple of napkins. Returning his attention to you, he wipes down the mess of you and his release off of you, causing you to shudder. He repeats 'sorry' over and over again as he does.

After that, he uses what's let to clean himself off before getting redressed. You move from your position on your back, sitting upright to ungracefully put your clothes back on. In the darkness of his car, you can't find the panties you were once wearing, deciding to forget about them and pull your leggings back on.

The blissful after glow that was once there is now demolished, a big elephant taking up most of the space now. When he moves back to the driver seat, you follow right behind him, planting yourself in the passenger.

Steve doesn't turn the car on just set, he just sits looking straight ahead through the clouded windshield to the darkness of the woods that sit in front of you. You want to say something, break up the awkwardness that sits between you two but you don't know what to even say.

It smells like sweat and sex, every window is fogged up with both of your hot breath, and the only sound that can be heard is the breaking of your heart.

You know he won't be back in two weeks, you know that his texts will stop rolling in, and that he'll eventually find someone to fill your spot. The bloodshed that's now left, of whatever this was, now fills the backseat of his car. A crime scene that will haunt him every time he looks in the rearview mirror, a murder by his own hands.

This cat and mouse game isn't fun anymore for Steve, not when he's lost at his own game. You're the cause of his demise, the girl that's broken through all his barriers.

Unbeknownst to you, you're all that Steve thinks about. Every morning, noon, and night, it's you that is on his mind. The months of seeing you, feeling you, the taste of you, were killing him softly. Steve didn't buy gifts for other girls, yeah he fucked around, but he never kept one around the way he did with you and he surely didn’t fuck them raw the way he does with you.

Steve was falling for you, opening himself up in such a vulnerable way that it scared him. He stopped the late night drive going nowhere, switching it to strictly going to lover's lake. The talks that he had with you, all the times you made each other laugh, were now replaced with short answers. Meeting up with you almost all the time now became once every couple of weeks.

You were the one thing, the one person Steve wanted and needed in his life but he couldn't give into it. He was a bad person, an asshole who turned good people into shells of themselves, and out of everyone he couldn't ruin you. He wouldn't ruin you.

Putting the keys into the ignition, he turns the car on, headlights illuminating the trees around you. Cracking the windows, he lets the cool air sweep the scent of you out of his car. Putting the car in drive, he presses down on the gas as hard as he can, taking off of in a flash.

The car ride home is silent, only the hum of his music can be heard with the whooshing of the wind. Anxiety fills your body, picking and pulling the skin around your nails with your teeth.

The loud ding of his phone rings out, a notification popping up on the Apple radio screen. Your heart cracking when you see it.

IMessage:

Jess💦: Still coming over?

Taking his phone out of the cupholder, his eyes are still trained on the road. As he pulls up to the red light, he types out something quickly and then puts it back down.

Another ding is heard and another notification pulls up on the larger screen.

IMessage:

Jess💦: See you soon daddy

Tears fall quietly from your eyes, your heart now completely shattered in the front seat of his car. You should've know, you did know and you still did it. You let your naïve heart believe that maybe you could change him, and you ended up looking like the idiot everyone said you were.

You can't even be mad because they were right, you were a goddamn idiot to think Steve Harrington loved you, let alone liked you enough to change.

More tears fall onto your cheeks, the burning feeling of a choked sob sits in the back of your throat. It feels like everything that could've went wrong, did just that.

The cold nip of the night air can't compete with the way your veins have frozen over and your heart slowly turning into a lump of coal. When he pulls in front of your house, he puts it in park and looks over at you.

“So,” he hesitates, “do you need money for a plan b?”

Your mouth hangs low in shock and he’s looking at you cluelessly. Scoffing at him you pull the handle to the door open.

“Don’t worry Harrington, I’m on birth control.” Putting a foot onto the ground, you got to get out, pausing turning your head back to him.

“Not like the world needs another you in it.”

Getting out of the car, you slam the door so hard you're surprised the glass doesn't shatter.

This was the end of whatever you and Steve were, him being the one to cut that pesky string that kept you close to him. Steve Harrington has changed you, a hateful person now replacing the sweet girl he loved so much.

The girl that Steve Harrington loves was now dead and Steve Harrington was now dead to you.

Thank you all for reading. The ending is rushed but we won't speak on that lmao. Love you all <3

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#steve harrington #steve stranger things #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve harrington smut #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington blurb #modern!steve harrington #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x fem!reader

[worth-the-chaos]

Adventures in Babysitting - Steve Harrington x female!reader - Chapter 3

Chapter Summary: Billy is still hitting on you, Steve’s still mad, and Dustin’s still a pain in the ass to babysit. When he tells you and Steve that there’s a massive problem of upside down proportions, the two of you have no choice but to drop everything to help the boy, reprising your roles as badasses who eradicate the supernatural in Hawkins.

Content Warning: swearing, upside down shit, billy being an ass, stancy, anxiety and tense moments, fluff, protective!steve

Word Count: 7.0k

Author’s Note: Still a slow burn but Steve and the reader’s relationship is slowly starting to develop in this part! More of this chapter also represents Steve’s perspective on things, which was really fun to write. I also got to write more interaction with Dustin, which more is obviously yet to come, but I hope you guys enjoy!

Series Masterlist | Part 2 | Next Part

***

While your conversation last night had helped him calm down a bit about Nancy’s comments about their relationship, Steve was still trying really damn hard to keep his cool about it. After all the years of being an asshole and putting himself first, he knew he didn’t deserve for things to go his way. But it was his senior year. He had hoped at least something could go according to plan, but shit seemed like it just kept finding new ways to hit the fan.

This turned out to be especially true when he was in his P.E. class, playing basketball against the same ass who wouldn’t leave you alone at Tina’s last night. Gym was the one class he didn’t usually have to worry about, his athleticism allowing it to be a distraction from his other responsibilities. In other words, it was a piece of cake. Besides, outside of study hall, it was the only class he was taking that you were also in. He would be lying if he said that it didn’t give him a bit of an ego boost to know that you were always there to watch him show off with whatever sport they played. He happened to excel at all of them.

That was until this asshole Billy showed up. Steve was pretty sure Billy was still mad about the way he interfered in his futile attempt to seduce you last night, and it was showing on the court with the way Billy was shoving at Steve every chance he got.

“Alright, alright, King Steve everyone,” Billy taunted, laughing as he dribbled the ball, “I like it, playing tough today.”

“Do you ever stop talking, man? Come on,” Steve rolled his eyes. He was just about done with this dude’s shit.

“What? You afraid that coach is gonna bench you now that I’m here? Huh?” Billy asked, getting closer and closer to Steve. He shoved into Steve, causing the boy to take a hard fall, hitting the ground pretty hard, before Billy tossed the ball effortlessly into the hoop.

You rolled your eyes from the bleachers. Boys are so fucking stupid. You were glad coach didn’t care what the girls were doing during class, more focused on the extra practice that his team was getting in; the one time sexism paid off. Most of the time you just brought homework to work on, using the class as an additional study period.

You saw Billy grab Steve’s hand to help him up, saying something to him you couldn’t quite hear, before shoving him back down to the floor.

“Alright, let’s take five everyone! Go get water, stretch, whatever, just be back in here otherwise I’m marking you absent,” your coach yelled out the empty threat, and you hopped off the bleachers and made your way over to Steve.

“So, today doesn’t really seem like your day,” you teased, offering your hand to help Steve up. He gladly took it, happy that at least through all the (as Nancy would word it) bullshit, you were still there, something he couldn’t say for his girlfriend at the moment. He shoved the thought down.

“Evidently not. You know, that Billy Hargrove kid is a real pain in my ass,” Steve fumed, “I mean first he shows up driving like a mad man in the goddamn parking lot, and now he won’t stop fucking shoving me. Like hello? Is that not a fucking foul?! And don’t get me fucking started on him coming on to you at Tina’s last night and refusing to leave you the hell alone until I had to get involved. What if I wasn’t there? What would he have done to you? I swear if he talks to you one more—“

You cut him off, “woah, woah, woah, Steve. You need to calm down. He’s just an ass, it’s not worth your time. Plus, you know I can handle my own and he’s left me alone since then, so I’m sure it’s all going to be fine. Don’t worry about me.”

“That’s what you don’t get, y/n. I’m always worried about you,” he sounded exasperated and his tone was angry, but you knew it was misdirected. You tried not to flush at the sentiment. You knew that he cared but sometimes it still surprised you considering a year ago you were largely blissfully unaware of each other’s existence.

You decided it was best to give him a few moments to calm down. “I swear it’s all going to be fine,” you promised as you headed back to the bleachers. As you turned around, you suddenly realized that Nancy was there, gripping her purse strap as she made eye contact with you. She smiled a half smile and waved, and you wondered how much of last night she really remembered. You waved back as you took your seat.

She motioned for Steve to follow her outside and he hesitantly obliged, clearly not super excited about the conversation they were about to have. As soon as he cleared the doorway, you noticed a presence to your left turning to be met with the face of Billy Hargrove. You felt your heart stop in your chest. Even though you told Steve you could handle things on your own, it was a lot easier said than done.

“What do you want?” You demanded, facing forward to avoid giving him the satisfaction of your full attention.

“I just feel like we got off on the wrong foot is all,” he said, and you could hear the fake charm dripping from his lips like poison. You knew there were girls here that would fall for this shit, but you certainly weren’t one of them.

“I don’t know, I’m pretty partial to abiding by the first impression you set and I’m not feeling so generous as to give you a do over.”

He chuckled, “you’re feisty. I like that, you know.”

“I don’t give a rat’s ass what you do or do not like. Now if you could kindly leave me the fuck alone, I think your dumbass game is starting back up,” you nodded towards the court and the boys who had started to pass the ball again.

“You’ll see. You’re gonna give me a second chance, just wait,” he predicted as he hopped down the bleachers to join his classmates. Once he hit the court, Steve made his way back into the gym and you were thankful for the timing. The last thing you needed was these boys trying to kill each other. Steve looked a little bit defeated and you couldn’t help but wonder what Nancy had said.

Gym went on per usual for the last fifteen minutes of class: girls largely sitting in the bleachers, boys trying to show off for them, until the two groups finally parted ways to change and clean up in their respective locker rooms before the bell rang in ten minutes. You waved at Steve as you made your way out of the gym, and he offered a half-hearted one in return.

Steve’s conversation with Nancy had gone just about as bad as he thought it would. Of course she didn’t remember the shit she said last night; that would be too convenient. Steve was still hung up on the fact that she couldn’t even tell him that she loved him. Was it all just a lie?

Steve headed over to the showers and undressed, hoping that the hot water could wash away some of the anger he was feeling. He had a tendency to be hot headed at times, but he was trying to turn over a new leaf. He was trying to be better, and he wasn’t going to let his temper get the best of him.

He watched as Billy made his way over to him, picking the shower to his right as turned the water on, “don’t sweat it Harrington. Today’s just not your day, man.”

Perfect, this was just perfect. Steve ignored him, continuing to run shampoo through his hair.

“More like not your week,” Tommy H added as he stepped up beside the two boys, “you and the princess break up and she immediately runs off with the freak’s brother.”

“Bullshit. I just talked to her.”

“Oh shit, you don’t know,” Tommy smiled, happy to have found more shit to throw at Steve today. “Jonathan and the princess ran off after your little conversation. She got in his beat up old car in the parking lot and it looks like they’re ditching the rest of the day. But that must just be a coincidence, right?”

Tommy laughed as he turned the water off and walked away.

“Don’t take it too hard, man,” Billy spoke up, “a pretty boy like you has got nothing to worry about. Plenty of bitches in the sea.”

Steve continued to ignore him, not having the time or energy for his shit, when Billy reached over to turn off the shower, leaving Steve soap covered and angry. He patted Steve on the back before walking away, adding “I’ll make sure to leave you some. Not y/n though. I’ve got my eye on her.”

Steve glared at him before aggressively turning the water back on. He hadn’t known about Nancy and Jonathan running off together, and frankly right now he didn’t’ care. He had always gotten weird vibes from their relationship. Hell, if he was being honest, they were probably the same vibes that Nancy got from his relationship with you. He didn’t really have time to think about all of that though, instead fuming over Billy’s persistent obsession with you.

Billy had only been here for a few fucking days and he was already causing problems Steve didn’t need. He could put up with the snide comments and taunts, but the second he came for you again, Steve’s patience would be out the window.

What a hell of a senior year.

***

It was a Saturday afternoon. Normally you didn’t babysit on Saturdays because Mrs. Henderson was off work, but she had called you the night before, saying she needed you. It was kind of hard to tell what she was saying because she seemed very upset, her emotion leaking into her voice and making her extremely difficult to understand. Something about her…cat being missing? Either way, you were headed toward the Henderson household, frustrated that you’d lost one of your only free days of the week, but you needed the extra cash, so here you were.

Before you could even make it up the porch steps to knock so that Dustin could let you in, he was flying out the door, bumping into you and knocking you off balance in the process.

“Code red! I repeat this is a code red!” He yelled into his headset as he darted past you, heading to grab his bike from the front lawn. You rolled your eyes and pivoted.

“Dude, what the hell?” You were ready to yell at him, to lecture him to be more careful, but he was mounting his bike and pedaling down the street before you could even conjure up the words. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going? You can’t just leave!”

“Y/n, I’m sorry! It’s an emergency! My mom’s bike is in the garage and I’m headed to the Wheelers’, but I have to go, now! Please don’t kill me!” He yelled over his shoulder as he got farther and farther away from you.

“I don’t know how to…ride a bike,” you started off yelling before going back to a normal speaking volume as you sighed, realizing your shouting was futile. With no other options, you thanked the universe that you had worn your tennis shoes today, and took off sprinting towards the Wheelers’.

Simultaneously, Steve was headed to the same location. He’d stopped to pick up a bouquet of roses for Nancy on the way, feeling the need to sort things out with her before it was too late. He wasn’t ready to give up on them just yet and he hoped that the gift would work like a bit of a peace offering to reset the balance and make everything okay again.

He parked his BMW in front of her house, rehearsing what he would say when she answered the door as he got out of his car.

“Listen, I’ve been thinking, I love you, I’m sorry….I’m sorry? What the hell am I sorry for?” He muttered as he made his way towards the front door.

“Steve! Are those for Mr. or Mrs. Wheeler?” It was the Henderson kid. Steve didn’t have the time for this, looking at the boy in annoyance.

“No?” He replied, confused at the boy’s line of questioning.

“Good,” Dustin replied as he grabbed the flowers and made his way towards Steve’s parked car. A rose fell from the bouquet in the process and Steve leaned down to pick it up before following the child.

“Hey! What the hell?”

“Nancy isn’t home.”

“Where is she?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Dustin started, “we have bigger problems than your love life.” He opened the passenger door. “Do you still have that bat?”

“Bat? What bat?” Steve asked. Why the hell is this kid getting in my damn car?

“The one with the nails?” Dustin clarified, throwing his hands up in a way that irritated Steve. Of course that was the bat the kid was talking about. How could he possibly have not known that considering the fact that it had been sitting in the trunk of another vehicle for a full calendar year, untouched?

“Why?”

“I’ll explain it on the way,” Dustin replied as he sat down. Steve was a bit thrown off by how immediate this had to be, not really in the mood to chauffeur the Henderson boy around. He felt anxiety creep up in his chest as he thought back to the last time he had to use the bat in question.

“Now?” Steve clarified as he jogged towards his car.

“Now!” Dustin confirmed as he slammed the car door shut. Steve quickly slid into the driver’s seat, starting the car and putting it in gear. He was about ready to pull away when hands slammed against his window, causing him and Dustin to scream out, alarmed by the sudden noise.

There you were, huffing and puffing from your impromptu run through the neighborhood. The anger on your face was glaringly apparent, neither boy recalling a time that you’d looked that mad before. And Dustin especially had done enough to make you pretty damn mad. You yanked the car door open and collapsed in the backseat of the BMW.

“What the hell y/n? You scared the absolute shit out of me! I could’ve run you over or something! Where the hell’d you even come from? Why are you even here?” Steve turned around to yell at you. You glared up at him with fire in your eyes, continuing to pant as you aggressively pushed a strand of hair aside that had fallen out of your ponytail and into your face.

“Do you want to tell him or should I?” You growled as your gaze shifted to the Henderson boy, who was attempting to shrink into nothing in the front seat.

“I-I told you that you could take the bike?” He squeaked out, clearly afraid of your wrath. You were usually so calm all of the time, so the rage permeating through the car was borderline terrifying.

“I don’t know how to ride a goddamn bike!” You screamed as you squeezed your eyes shut. It was embarrassing, but you were too frustrated right now to focus on that.

“That….well, that was an oversight on my part,” Dustin replied.

“Wait, she’s fucking babysitting you and you took off on a bike and left her behind? What the fuck dude?” Steve interjected, angry on your behalf.

“Yeah, I could have walked you to the damn Wheelers’ house! Leaving me like that was way out of line, asshole.”

“It is an emergency!” Dustin attempted to defend himself, “I’m sorry I left you by yourself to walk—“

“Run.” You corrected.

“—to run after me. But I’m not going to apologize for leaving because some crazy ass shit is going on and I need help. Big time.”

Looking at the boy it was clear that something was very wrong. Normally he was pretty happy go lucky, but now he was pretty damn stoic. Your anger slowly faded as you thought to what the boy could possibly have meant by the code red earlier.

“It…it-it’s not…it’s not what I think it is, is it?” You whispered, unable to really get the words out.

“It’s probably exactly what you think it is,” Dustin pinched the bridge of his nose. Despite the fact that the boy had left you behind, you could understand his reasoning. This Upside Down shit was not something to be taken lightly, and you were glad you and Steve were here now to help him so he didn’t have to figure it out on his own.

Before either of you responded, Steve put the car in gear for a second time, pulling away from the Wheeler residence. You guys were already losing light and Steve’s house wasn’t super close, meaning that time was of the essence.

“So…it’s the demogorgon,” Steve finally spoke up, saying what you had been unable to earlier.

“Well, not exactly,” Dustin started, “on Halloween, I found this…thing in my trashcan, really small you know—non threatening and the like—and I did some research and thought it was a pollywog—“

“A polly-what?” Steve interjected.

“A pollywog. Kind of like a tadpole, but that’s not important. Anyway, I kept it and I named it D’Artagnan, Dart for short, because I thought I had discovered a new species. Turns out I wasn’t entirely wrong because it molted last night and it’s definitely a precursor to a full blown demogorgon.”

“Shit,” you whispered and your right hand instinctively went to grasp your upper left arm, shielding your wounds from your previous encounter with the beast.

“How big did you say this thing was again?” Steve asked, not entirely convinced that this was as large a threat as Dustin was making it out to be.

“It started out like this,” he held his hands close together, “and now it’s like this,” he added as he spaced them significantly farther apart. You shuddered; if Dustin wasn’t exaggerating, this thing was now closer to the size of a small dog. It had only been a few days since he found the thing, how long did you guys have until it was the hulking nine-foot monster that had attacked you last year?

“Dude, it’s probably just some little lizard, man,” Steve began trying to brush the boy off.

“It’s not a lizard!”

“How do you know it’s not just some lizard?” Steve shot back, annoyed at the fact that this could potentially be a false alarm. Throughout Dustin’s explanation Steve kept looking at you in the rearview mirror and he could tell you were starting to get worked up over the potential of another supernatural threat.

“How do I know it’s not some lizard? Because his face opened up and he ate my cat,” Dustin deadpanned, bothered by the fact that Steve wasn’t believing him. This answer seemed to be acceptable as Steve dropped the subject, nodding, not really sure what he could say.

“Wait, Mews is dead?” You asked, your heart dropping a bit. You loved that cat; she was such a good study buddy when you were killing time at the Henderson household. Dustin just nodded quietly from the front seat.

None of you really knew what to say, so you sat in silence as Steve drove the rest of the way to his house. You all needed time to process this; time that you didn’t have. As he pulled up, you paused to take in the sight of the Harrington household. It was huge, an elaborate display of wealth that almost made you sick to your stomach. He unlocked the trunk of another vehicle, most likely an extra one that was used on occasion, pulling out the bat that he had used to save your life last year.

“Alright. Let’s do this,” Steve sounded confident, not allowing his voice to waver in the slightest. You all went to pile back into the BMW, Dustin heading for the passenger seat again when Steve grabbed him by his collar, stopping the boy in his tracks. “Nice try, pipsqueak. You’re in back.”

You chuckled as Steve opened the door for you. You spent the ride back to Dustin’s focusing on what potential horror may lie ahead of you. At least it’s smaller this time, you kept telling yourself. If you could take on a monster several feet taller than you last year, you could kick the puppy sized equivalent easy, right?

Dustin took you around the back of his house to the cellar. Despite the fact that it was locked shut, you still approached it with caution, not entirely sure of what the monster inside of it was capable of. The three of you stared at the closed doors, not really sure what you were waiting for.

“I don’t hear shit,” Steve finally spoke up, referring to the silence coming from the cellar below. If there was one thing that you knew from your supernatural encounter last year, it was that this thing was far from quiet. Sometimes you would wake up in a cold sweat, the memory of the low growl, the chattering, the screeching, coming back to you in your most vulnerable state.

“He’s in there,” Dustin promised. Steve began to hit the metal doors with the bat, still not entirely convinced. When there was no response, Steve turned to the boy.

“Alright, listen kid, I swear if this is just some Halloween prank, you’re dead,” Steve looked him dead in the eye. He knew from Halloween night how much this still affected you and if he was being honest, the experience still took a toll on him as well, so if this punk kid thought he was going to prank the two of you by forcing you to relive the most terrifying experience of your lives, he had another thing coming.

“Woah, woah, woah, how about we calm the fuck down? I get paid to babysit this damn kid, and I’ll be damned if I let you touch a hair on his head,” you got between the two boys, glaring up at Steve. Even though he had changed, you didn’t trust that his hot headedness wouldn’t return in a momentary lapse of judgment. Steve thought you looked entirely too maternal, and it made his heart skip, but he put his hands up and rolled his eyes. You turned toward Dustin.

“That being said. If this is a prank, I’m going to be pissed the fuck off,” you shot the boy a warning glance before adding, “now, do you have a key for this thing?”

Dustin tossed you the keys, but Steve intercepted them before you could catch them. He unlocked the doors, pulling them open to reveal a very dark and uninviting looking cellar. It was the kind of darkness you would have been afraid of as a child, worrying that the shadows housed imaginary monsters. However, this time you weren’t a kid and those monsters were far from imaginary. You and Steve pointed your flashlights down there, illuminating the cellar floor to display the nothingness. It was almost more unnerving than if the monster had just been there…almost.

“He must be farther down there…I’ll stay up here in case he tries to escape,” Dustin was quick to add, being so kind as to volunteer to stay far from the potential danger. You and Steve stared at him in disbelief. The nerve of this kid.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding, dude. It’s your problem, and you’re gonna be an absolute wimp about it after we’ve spent our afternoons chauffeuring you around town?” Steve fumed, about done with Dustin’s shit.

“I’m still in middle school! You guys are at least a modicum closer to being adults than I am, so it only makes sense that—“

You cut him off, swiftly grabbing the nail bat from Steve’s grasp. “You both are a bunch of cowards,” you sighed as you started making your way down the stairs. Behind you, you could hear the sounds of arguing between the two of them, each one shaming the other that they had let you, a woman, go down there alone.

“What the hell man? You’re really gonna let her go down there by herself? Not cool”

“She wouldn’t have gone in the first place if you hadn’t immediately wimped out.”

“I’m in eighth grade! You’re a fucking senior! You go down there! Man up!”

Chivalry is dead, you thought as you pulled the string to turn on the overhead light.

Your heart stopped when you saw the slick pile of shedded skin sitting in the middle of the cellar. This thing was bigger now. You felt the anxiety creep up in your chest and you swallowed the lump in your throat as you readjusted your grip on the bat, struggling to grasp it as your hands trembled. That’s when you noticed the gaping hole in the side of the cellar. You cautiously approached it, realizing it was tunneled out farther than the light from your flashlight could reach. The thought of what was lurking in that hole made you shudder.

Meanwhile, the boys finished their futile argument, not realizing you had completely disappeared into the cellar, now out of view. Steve and Dustin, stared at each other, wide eyed and panicking, realizing how gravely they had messed up.

“Y/n?” Dustin yelled hesitantly down the steps.

Upon hearing no response, Steve’s heart rate picked up and he spoke up as well, “y/n, what’s going on down there?”

Suddenly, you popped around the corner without warning, causing the boys to jump. “Get down here,” your tone was serious and the boys swiftly made their way down the cellar stairs, finally joining you as they should have done in the first place. You picked up the molted skin of Dustin’s discovery, showing it to the boys.

“Oh shit,” Dustin whispered, but when you pointed out the gaping hole in the cellar, he repeated it more emphatically, “Oh shit!”

“Yeah, ‘oh shit’ is right. We need to find it,” you turned to look at the boys. You wouldn’t let it roam Hawkins again. You wouldn’t let another Will get taken or another Barb get killed.

“It’s too dark out to do anything about it tonight,” Steve reminded you. There was no safe way for you to catch this thing. You had no game plan, no supplies, nothing.

“Steve,” you begged, looking up at him through your lashes. Even though you knew he was right, it made you nauseous to think about leaving this for tomorrow. You didn’t know how you would sleep tonight knowing that that monster was unaccounted for.

“Y/n, I’m sorry, but we just can’t. You know that. Think about how awful it was last time and we knew where the damn thing was and had a whole ass warning system for when it showed up. We can’t just walk out into the woods in total darkness expecting to find it and come out unscathed. We just can’t,” Steve replied, looking at you with sympathy. He didn’t want to leave this for tomorrow either, but you were just going to have to settle for that. There wasn’t another option.

You took a deep breath and nodded. Dustin turned to head back up out of the cellar, exiting the main room, out of sight as he bounded up the stairs happy to be out of there. When you turned to follow, you felt a gentle hand on the small of your back. You turned to face Steve and he moved his hand to your upper arm, placing his other hand at the nape of your neck. You looked him in the eye and swallowed the lump in your throat. This was the most sincere you had ever seen him.

“Hey, everything is gonna be okay. I’m gonna make sure of it, I promise,” Steve said quietly. You breathed in deeply and nodded, trying to trust him even though all of this was wildly out of your control. He let go of you reaching his hand between you, pinky extended, just like it had been in the library.

You felt a pang in your chest. That was how your lives should be; just two dumb high school students studying, thinking about what colleges you were going to go to, making stupid promises about parties that were more fun in theory than they were in actuality. Not whatever this was. But nonetheless you took his pinky in yours and you hoped with all your might that he’d be able to keep his promise; that everything would be okay.

“Hello? Are you guys coming? Did the demogorgon come back and eat the two of you alive?” Dustin’s voice rang out, sounding annoyed as it echoed in the open cellar.

“Not funny!” You shouted back, the moment between you and Steve fizzling out, as you dropped each other’s pinkies, making your way out of the cellar. You shut the heavy metal doors, triple checking that they were locked before standing to draw up a game plan with the boys.

“Alright, how about I pick you both up around 10:00 tomorrow morning?” Steve asked, looking between you and Dustin.

“That works. Dustin, your mom’s home, right? Her car was in the driveway, yeah?” You asked, making sure that Dustin wasn’t alone.

“Yep, everything should be fine here. Well, other than the whole Dart-ate-my-cat thing but yeah, I’m good. Your babysitting services are no longer needed for the evening.”

You walked him to the front door and thanked Mrs. Henderson as she paid you for watching him on a weekend. You could tell the poor woman was still distraught about her cat, and you couldn’t help but feel a pang in your chest. You and Steve made your way back over to his car and he opened the passenger door for you once again. He started driving towards your subdivision when you spoke up.”

“Steve, stop.”

He was getting flashbacks to Halloween, when the discussion of Barb had been too much for you to handle. “Woah, y/n is everything okay?” He asked, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“I just…I-I don’t want to be alone,” you stammered, “my parents work nights and I just have a bad feeling about all of this, and I’m not quite ready to be by myself. Can you just give me a minute to calm down a little?”

You looked up at Steve innocently, your facial features twisted with worry. It was a look that could break him. He remembered his promise to you; that everything would be okay. He decided that this is where that promise started. He didn’t say anything as he turned down a side street with a cul-de-sac, making his way back to the top of the street before turning in the opposite direction of your house.

“Steve, what are you doing?”

“You can stay at mine tonight. My parents aren’t home this weekend anyway so it’ll be fine,” he assured you.

“Are you sure? I really don’t want to intrude,” you asked quietly, hoping that he didn’t change his mind.

“‘Don’t want to intrude’ my ass. The first time you came to my house you practically almost knocked down my door!” Steve laughed.

“Hey! It was an emergency! What was I supposed to do? Clearly I had exhausted all other resources by that point. The Henderson kid is a problem, you can blame him,” you defended yourself, giggling as you recalled the first time you sought Steve out.

“Nah, I’ll just thank him instead. It turned out to be a really good thing for me, you know?” He smiled at you. He was right; Dustin being a hellish child to babysit ended up turning out pretty damn good…aside from all of the paranormal, supernatural bullshit you were both knee deep in.

But that didn’t matter right now, as Steve turned on the radio, the two of you singing out of key to the latest hits as he drove off towards his house.

***

Sure, it was dark out, but it wasn’t too late yet, so Steve took you out back by the pool. You couldn’t imagine living in a place like this. In theory it would be awesome, but then you thought about how often his parents were gone, not to mention how hard they were on him, and you decided that you were better off in your small but loving home.

“So, yeah, this is the pool. I would say we could go for a swim, but it’s a little too cold for that,” Steve chuckled.

“Not too cold to sit out here, though,” you smiled as you took a seat on one of the lounge chairs.

“Be careful, you might get a sunburn,” Steve joked as he took a seat in the chair next to you. He thought about how the two of you had gotten to this point. Before you had knocked on his door that fateful day last fall, he had noticed you around school, but mostly just enough to know that you were a bit of a loner and you made good grades. Hell, he had almost reached out to you once or twice when his parents were on his ass about his poor performance in his classes, but he had always scoffed and rolled his eyes. Because how could he, King Steve, ever reach out to you?

He wished he had. He wondered how different things would have been. If he would have fallen in love with Nancy or if he would’ve been spared the heartache. He’d never know but he couldn’t help but contemplate how different your relationship would have been if you hadn’t been brought together by trauma. Maybe she wouldn’t have even wanted to speak to me, he reasoned.

“You know, if you told me a year ago that I would be hanging out one on one with Steve Harrington at his house, I would’ve called you crazy,” you had gotten up, moving to sit by the side of the pool, kicking your legs back and forth in the cold water.

“I was just thinking about that actually,” Steve admitted, “do you ever wonder how different it would be if we met before all this shit happened?”

“I mean, to be honest, not really. I think we both had some growing to do before we were ever going to get along. Last year kind of forced us to grow up a little faster than we really needed to. Maybe that’s a bad thing, but right now it seems pretty good to me,” you looked at him with sincerity. You meant every word of it.

“What do you mean both of us? I was the one that was an ass, you were perfect all on your own beforehand.”

You flushed with the praise, “no, seriously, I had some growing up to do too. Back then I thought I had you all figured out. I was confident that you were just some asshole jock, and I wouldn’t have guessed you had the capacity to change. I kind of stuck to myself, and I didn’t have a lot of friends, so I guess in a way, I was a bit jealous of you. People just gravitate towards you; I blend in so much I might as well not even be there.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, Billy sure is noticing you,” Steve muttered, and you couldn’t contain your laughter. You wish he’d stop being so focused on that, but you knew how protective he tended to be, so it made sense that it would still be on his mind after how Billy had treated you on Halloween.

“Yeah, that definitely doesn’t make me feel better; actually quite the contrary,” you chuckled, “you know, on paper you both should get along.”

“That’s so not true.”

“Think about it! You’re both athletic, flirt too much for your own good, have pretty good hair, popular beyond my wildest imagination, and you guys are both chick magnets. Forgive me for seeing some similarities,” you smirked. You knew it would set him off, which is exactly why you said it. If you were being completely honest, his frustration was a bit amusing at times.

“Yeah, but he’s like a complete asshole! I would never have just grabbed you like he did at that party. That was not fucking cool. Like yeah, of course he’d want to talk to you, look at you, but couldn’t he have just introduced himself and struck up a damn conversation instead of immediately getting handsy and shit? Like fuck!”

“What do you mean of course he’d want to talk to me?” You asked, baffled. You hadn’t really dated at all because no one was really interested in the weird alt girl who, despite all stereotypes, was killing herself to make good grades.

“I hate to break it to you, but you’re pretty. And you’re not like every other bitch. You’re different and you stand out because of it. In a good way. Now stop being self deprecating and get inside, we’re going to have to wake up at the ass crack of dawn so we can pick up your damn kid,” he offered you a hand to help you up from the ground, which you gladly took, trying and failing not to flush at the compliment.

He led you upstairs after giving you a tour of the main level. “Here is the guest room, you can sleep in here tonight. Wait here a second,” he added as he darted across the hall, disappearing into what you assumed to be his room. You took in the sight of the guest bedroom. It was perfectly set up, and though it was pristine and tastefully decorated, something about it felt cold and lonely; impersonal.

Before you could think about it too much, Steve returned with a stack of clothes in his hands. “You can wear these. I-I assumed you didn’t want to sleep in jeans. It’s just, um, it’s just a pair of my sweatpants and a t-shirt, but I can take them back if you’d rather just you know, keep those on,” he said as he gestured to you and your outfit. You chuckled as you took the stack of clothes from him.

“Thanks, Steve. I really appreciate it,” you smiled up at him through your lashes.

She’s gonna be the death of me, Steve thought, as he felt his cheeks heat up from your gratitude. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, no problem. Um, well…I’m right across the hall if you need anything. Sleep well, y/n,” he smiled at you.

“Sleep well, Harrington,” you replied, entering the guest bedroom. Once Steve was no longer with you, you felt all of your fear and anxiety invade your consciousness again. You swiftly changed and looked at yourself in the full length mirror hung on the wall. I could get used to this, you thought, feeling butterflies in your stomach from the fact that you were in Steve’s clothes. It all felt too domestic. You were beginning to blur the line between friends and something more, and the thought made you a little nauseous. You weren’t sure you were ready for that.

But as you laid in the big bed in the very empty and lonely guest room, fear crept up in your chest, and you decided that none of that mattered as you quietly crossed the hall, knocking softly on Steve’s door. He answered almost immediately, a concerned look across his face.

“Is something wrong?” He quickly asked, his hands hovering around your frame as he scanned you up and down to make sure nothing was amiss.

“I-I just…I still think I’m not quite ready to be by myself,” your voice was small and you looked down at the floor, embarrassed. You felt weak and wished that you were strong enough to face this without needing someone to lean on. But that’s what friends were for.

“Of course! Yeah, um I can sleep on the floor and you can take my bed, I have an extra pillow in the—“

You cut him off, “Steve! You are not going to sleep on the floor.”

“Uh, yeah I am?”

“Over my dead body,” you shot back, “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“You’re a guest!”

“Yeah, a guest that’s being difficult!”

“Y/n,” he warned.

“The way I see it we’re either both sleeping on the floor or we’re both sleeping in the bed, so take your pick Harrington,” you replied, pinching the bridge of your nose. Nothing could be easy with this boy.

“I sleep on the left side,” he sighed as he flopped onto the bed. You flopped down next to him, and you both turned to face away from each other. You felt your heart rate slow as the fear dissipated from your body, your shoulders finally being able to relax. Steve made you feel safe, and you wouldn’t trade that for anything else.

If only you knew that Steve felt the same way about you, and that you were the only one keeping his panic at bay. There was so much uncertainty in his life right now; Nancy, college, demogorgon-upside-down bullshit. Everything felt like it was going to shit, but you were the one thing that was going right.

You were the only constant he had right now.

As the two of you drifted off to sleep, it was the first time in a long time that either of you felt truly at peace. As the night went on, the distance between you began to disappear, as you slowly shifted towards each other, your legs tangled together under Steve’s soft sheets. Tomorrow would likely bring more pain, uncertainty, and problems, but right now that didn’t matter. All that mattered was the two of you, in Steve’s bedroom, sleeping so soundly that for a moment things seemed right with the world.

***

a/n: Thanks so much for reading! Please let me know what you think! Also, if you feel so inclined as to reblog, I would not be mad ;)

#joe keery #stranger things #steve harrington #friends to lovers #steve harrington fanfic #netflix #steve harrington friends to lovers #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington x reader blurb #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x reader fanfic #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfiction

[pixiemunsons]

hiii what about steve harrington x reader where steve with all of the girls he slept before he can't manage to cum -like he only cums when he's alone and like it feels kinda humiliating to him to cum in front of someone bc he's really noisy and it's reader's first time and she manage to make him cum 👀

stop the world (i wanna get off with you) sh

stevie learns that sometimes, you just gotta let go (3.1k words)

anon i'm so sorry i missed the part where u said first time however it is their first time together. my first steve fic!! also don't usually write dom!reader so v new for me. thank u for requesting<3 this is set sort of between s2 and 3

light sub!steve/dom!reader, caretaking, handjobs, vulnerable/embarrassed steve, mentions of him sleeping w other girls but no jealousy, first orgasm w a partner, p in v sex, gentle sex, lots of sweet talking and reassurance, this is a very sweet little thing w very very little angst. no use of y/n or appearance description. no spoilers

‘sorry, can you say that again?’

steve blushed bright red, running a hand through his messy hair as you stared at him, wide mouthed.

‘baby, please, it’s so humiliating!’ he threw his head back into the pillow, hiding his hot face in his hands, and it took almost all of your strength to gently prise his fingers away from his eyes.

‘no, s’not. just wanna make sure i heard you properly.’

steve sighed deeply, looking at you tentatively.

‘no one else has ever been able to make me cum before, just myself. happy now?’

───

when king steve harrington had first asked you on a date, you thought he was joking. you’d barely ever spoken at school; helped him get through a bio test once when he was in junior year and you were a sophomore taking an advanced class, but outside of that, you’d barely interacted. 

that is, until you had nipped over to jonathan byers’ house to drop him and his mother a tray of mac and cheese and ask how the search for will was going and had found him, nancy and steve beating the shit out of an alien.

it had all sort of snowballed from there, really. nancy and steve started dating again not long after the incident, before she bounced on over to byers, and while you were really happy for your friends, it had been you that was left to pick up the broken pieces of steve harrington’s heart. well, you and the ragtag bunch of thirteen-year-olds that you had sort of acquired over time. you learnt a lot about steve over the months you spent together; he was a serial dater, though they never seemed to go anywhere - despite the girls seemingly chasing him for weeks after he’d turned them down. he loved ice cream and cheesy rom-coms and the songs from west side story. steve harrington liked driving the kids around, even when he denied it, and listening to dustin talk about d&d, and so it turned out, he really, really liked you.

he’d asked you to go on three dates before you started to believe that he really wanted you like that, and even then he’d had to ask twice more before you agreed to go. you had heard he was a bit of a fuck ‘em and chuck ‘em kinda guy, and the dynamic you’d built up wasn’t something you were willing to ruin for a quick fumble; even if you had heard that said fumbles were nothing short of magnificent. he’d done things properly though; picked you up and opened the car door for you, told your mother he’d have you home on time, taken you to enzo’s, the nicest place in town. he’d made you laugh with his stories all night, ignoring the way other patrons looked at you, and when you reached for the cheque at the end of the night he had brushed you off as if you asking was an insult in and of itself. and then he’d taken you home fifteen minutes before curfew and asked you permission before pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, driving away and leaving you leaning breathless against your front door.

being with steve was a lot different to how you expected it might be. it was just like before, really, doing everything together like best friends. but you caught the way he looked at you now, really looked at you like no one else did. saw how he took in every scar, every mark and cherished it, loved it as a part of you. and even though you hadn’t quite said those words yet, hadn’t quite taken it there, you knew it was true for both of you. there were other things about steve that you hadn’t expected, either; how his room was still the blue colour he’d painted it at twelve, how he could cook a really decent spaghetti. and how, five months into your relationship, he’d never taken it further than making out.

you hadn’t intended to get onto the conversation. you were just talking about how tommy and carol were hooking up again even after their latest break up, and steve had said he thought tommy was dating paula morgan from their graduating class, and about how steve’d gone on a date with her once and she’d left a hickey so big he had to tell his folks he got hit with a volleyball in gym. you knew there was a reason paula kept giving you the shit-eye when you went into the grocery store where she worked. 

‘tellin’ you, i got off lucky! danny rogers, you know from the year above me? he told me once that she gave him a handy and twisted it so hard he was bruised for weeks! scared me off of her for life.’

you laughed, half thinking as he spoke. he had hooked up with loads of girls at school, you knew that, but the more you two spoke about your histories the more you were finding out; secret rendezvous' with girls under the bleachers, in the back of his car. he’d even confessed that he let sheila richards give him a blowjob in mr davies’ empty maths classroom. but it’d been months and the most the two of you had done was heavy petting over the clothes and making out before he’d push you gently away to get back to whatever movie you’d rented that weekend, even if you could feel how hard he was under his jeans. you hadn’t really meant to bring it up at that point, but surely it was better to tell him how you were feeling?

so you’d asked what was going on, and he’d stared at you for so long you thought you might burst into flames of embarrassment, desperately worried you’d said the wrong thing, when he came out with a whisper so tiny you almost didn’t hear it.

almost.

───

‘but-but what about all the other girls? you’ve been getting it left right and centre by every girl in your year, and i’ve certainly never heard any of them complaining.’

steve looked at you and drew a deep breath, shrugging his shoulders.

‘no, babe, they’ve been getting it from me. i mean, i’ve had a few… favours, but i’ve just never, like, finished. i find an excuse, like that i can hear someone coming or whatever, and then i go home and… sort myself out.’

‘so, you can come? just not when other people try?’

he nodded his head, seemingly more calm now that it was out there in the open.

‘is it a physical thing, you think? or a mental block?’

steve shrugged his shoulders again.

‘bit of both, maybe? i think part of it is that i’ve never been that bothered about cumming? i know it sounds silly, but i’m not usually in the sex for myself, and when you end up with a reputation like mine, you gotta find a way of keepin’ it up. so i just do what i need’a do to get her there, then deal with myself later.’ he felt silly now that he said it aloud, wringing his fingers in front of him. it had been part of the reason he’d never moved on you; he was too worried you’d think he didn’t find you attractive, didn’t want you, and the thought killed him.

‘you ever fucked someone you really care about, before, stevie? who really cares about you?’

he looked up at the change of tone in your voice, and saw that you were climbing up his body so your faces were level. he was going red again, gulping as you leaned down over him.

’n-no? never.’

you cocked your head to the side, frowning. ‘what about nance?’ steve shook his head solemnly.

‘no, w-we never… what are you doing, babe?’ he asked as you crawled onto his lap, thighs now either side of his hips.

‘stevie, i think the reason you were never bothered is because they weren’t. they just wanted to fuck the king, have a piece of him. but i don’t want the king.’ you laid a soft kiss on his lips, smiling as you pulled away and steve followed you for more. ‘i want steve harrington. and i wanna make him feel good. y’gonna let me do that?’ you were almost purring, playing with the hem of his t-shirt, and steve couldn’t even find the words to express how he felt other than god, baby, yes please.

you started by kissing him real, real slow. moved your lips over his languidly, tongue running gently over the seam of his lips in soft, caressing strokes that had his head spinning and his chin jutting forward for more. his mouth opened, and you slipped yourself in, running your tongue over his own. steve moaned gently into the kiss, grinding his hips up into yours, and you pushed them back down gently.

‘not yet, baby, tryna make this good for you. just calm down, take it slow. we got all the time in the world.’ he hummed against your mouth, settling his hips down while his hands explored your body slowly. you sat with him like this for a little while; one hand playing with his hair whilst the other sat on his stomach, pressing tender smooches to his lips, his nose, his cheeks, ears, forehead, eyes, until eventually you worked a trail of lip gloss down his neck. your teeth came out at the base of his throat, only gently, marking him inconspicuously as yours, and he almost whimpered under you.

it wasn’t often that you took your time with steve. it was hard to show your appreciation for him sexually when he was always resisting, refusing to let you in. so you were definitely having a lot of fun taking your time tonight. you stripped him of his t-shirt, straddling his hips and feeling his hard cock pressed against you through both of your jeans as you leant forward. your lips shifted from his neck to his chest, nipping at his collarbones as you moved down his stomach.

‘stevie, y’ so pretty,’ you whispered from his happy trail, nose nudging at the curls that lay there as he whined under you.

‘you’re so beautiful, babe, so gorgeous.’ his hand dropped from his chest to your face, stroking at your cheek gently with a thumb. you turned to kiss his fingertips gently, and he moaned when you took the very tip of his index finger into your mouth and sucked gently.

‘’m gonna get you all ready for me, stevie, use my hand and get you worked up, then i’m gonna get on top like you like it and make you feel good. no pressure, if y’can’t cum it’s all good, we’ll just try again when you’re ready. i jus’ want you to know you’re safe with me, nothin’ bad’s gonna happen, i’m gonna take good care of you, yeah?’ you were running your fingers over the top of his jeans, dipping into his boxers ever so gently, and he nodded, fingers grabbing for your t-shirt.

‘yeah, but can you take this off, too? please? don’t wanna be the only one sat here naked,’ he half-chuckled, half-moaned when you stripped the garment away, bra following so you were clad in your jeans alone.

‘can you go in the drawer, babe, get the lube please?’ you asked sweetly, and he passed it down with a kiss pressed to the top of your head. you manoeuvred your position so you were sat facing steve, his face level with your boobs as you straddled his thighs, giving you enough room to pull him out of his jeans and boxers. and, wow, was he hard. and big. his red tip was leaking, almost painful looking, and you pumped some of the lube into your right hand before rubbing it together in your palm, warming it up. he let out a hiss when you finally made contact, hips bucking up into your palm. you simply eased him back down again, pressing a kiss to the bicep of his right arm.

‘shh, baby, i said i got you. how do you usually like it?’

steve cocked his head to the side, blushing red. ‘what do you mean?’

‘you said you make yourself cum,’ you grabbed his hand, guiding it on top of yours. ‘so show me how you do that. maybe it’ll help you relax a little.’ he was nervous, you could tell, so you kissed him gently on the mouth, nodding gently to encourage him. slowly, his hand tightened your own around his cock, moving at a much slower pace than you anticipated he’d like. not that you minded; having him show you how intimately, gently, he liked to be touched was getting you wet, and it was taking a lot to keep your mind on the task quite literally at hand.

steve removed his hand once you seemed to be getting the hang of it, letting his head flop back against the pillows behind him.

‘o-oh, baby, just like that,’ he was writhing under you, leg bouncing up between your thighs in a way that made them clench. steve noticed, reaching out to touch you, but you carefully brushed his hand away.

‘not right now, stevie. we’re gonna think about you for now, we can worry about me later, ’s okay,’ you whispered up at him, flicking your thumb over the very head of him and watching as his head dropped back once more, eyes rolling into his head.

‘f-fuck, that’s so… fuck.’ he seemed to be relaxing, finally, letting you make him feel like he deserved for the first time.

‘you’re doin’ so good f’me, babe. such a good boy,’ you hummed, and steve’s fingers were white knuckled and wound into the bedsheets. he moaned, high-pitched and needy, and the sound went right between your legs.

‘’m gonna c-cum, babe, fuck, stop,’ he whimpered, and you cocked an eyebrow.

‘why stop? everything okay?’

‘wanna- fuck, wanna cum in you.’ his words sent a shiver down your spine, and you swallowed the moan making its way to the surface.

‘you sure? you won’t lose it if i stop now?’

steve shook his head vehemently, pushing your hand away from his leaking cock and reaching to undo your jeans, yanking them down to your knees. you leant forward to kiss him, gently pushing his arms back to his sides.

‘there’s no rush, steve, we can take our time. here, keep touching yourself f’me. there you go baby, just like that.’ you stripped yourself slowly, pushing your lace underwear down your hips and kicking them off with your jeans so you were bare in front of him. you’d usually be nervous, first time a boy saw you like that, but steve? he was something different. his hand was pumping up and down his cock just like he’d shown you he liked it, eyelids drooping as he revered your naked form above him.

‘want me on top? or d’you wanna do it?’

steve groaned again. he had no idea how he’d managed to swing you, but right now, he definitely wasn’t complaining. ‘can you do it, babe, please?’

his puppy dog eyes were so disarming, so loving, you couldn’t help but to lean forward and run a thumb over his lips, watching as he ran the very tip of his tongue over the pad of your digit.

‘i just want you to know that there’s no pressure, honey. if it doesn’t happen, we don’t force it, we try until you wanna stop and then we try another time, okay?’ the concern in your eyes had him almost in tears, so he just nodded as you lowered yourself onto him for the first time.

the sting was uncomfortable but not unwelcome, his thick cock stretching you out just enough for it to hurt whilst still feeling good. you moaned together when you finally had him all the way down to his thick base, buried so deep you could feel it everywhere.

‘’m not gonna last long, sweetheart,’ steve grunted, hips meeting yours mid-thrust and you couldn’t bring yourself to stop him, not when he was bumping up against a spot that had you seeing stars.

‘stevie, so good, so fuckin’ big and perfect for me,’ you were half-crying on his cock, trying to keep a rhythm going.

‘where d’you - fuck - want it? s’comin’ babe,’ steve was grunting through gritted teeth, and you just had time to cry out ‘stomach, shit’ when he was pulling out, head poking out from his hand as he fisted his cock, warm splashes of cum spurting out to paint your tummy.

‘oh baby, oh my love, fuck, so good!’ steve was almost shouting through his orgasm from under you, and he was the most beautiful person you’d ever met. head thrown back, hair messy, chest red and mouth forming an o as he rode his orgasm out in his hand. you were still hovering above him, up on your knees, when he covered his face with his hands once more.

‘stevie, what’s wrong?’ you asked, worried you’d taken it too far. he peeked out from between his fingers, eyeing you.

‘that was so loud, s'embarrassing,’ he whispered, and you pulled his hands from his face like you had not half an hour earlier.

‘you kidding? that was so hot!’

‘shut up, don’t be a dick.’

‘steve, i’m being serious!’ he peered over at you, intrigued, as you started ranting. ‘fuck, i can’t believe i’m the first person to see you like that! i mean, i’m glad i was, because holy shit, that was a religious fucking experience!’ the look of wonder on your face soon became something a little more teasing. ‘i can’t wait to make you do that again.’

it was your turn to be surprised when steve looped his arms around your thighs, yanking you forward so you were still on your knees, now situated with your pussy directly over his mouth. a smirk spread across steve’s face at the look of wonder on your own.

‘well, not right now, you won’t sweetheart.’

he pressed a trail of kisses down your right inner thigh, short nails scraping at the skin of your ass.

‘you’ve shown me what a good job you can do. now it’s time to show you what i’m famous for, baby.’

#Steve harrington #Steve harrington smut #Steve harrington fluff #Steve harrington angst #Steve harrington fanfic #Steve harrington fanfiction #Steve harrington imagine #Steve harrington headcanon #Steve harrington headcanons #Steve harrington x reader #Steve harrington x you #Steve harrington x f!reader #Steve harrington x female reader #Steve harrington stranger things #Steve stranger things #stranger things 4 #Stranger things smut #Stranger things fanfiction #Stranger things fluff #Stranger things x reader #Stranger things x you #Stranger things x female reader #Stranger things x f!reader

[literaryavenger]

Broken - part 5

Summary: You and Bucky keep bonding.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: Minimal use of Y/N. Language. Innocent and broken Bucky. Mentions of Bucky's past and nightmares. A lot of fluff. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 2.2K

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

A/N: I decided on the ending for this story, and I have only one more chapter to go! Enjoy, the last one will probably come sometime tomorrow. Also, again, it's 4:30 am and I can't help myself lol.

Masterlist

Spending time with Cassie you couldn’t help but feel better.

The more you have fun and laugh with the little girl, the more you forget about your anger against the team.

It also helps that you spend most of the day away from them, eating lunch with Cassie and Scott, who you didn’t stay mad at for too long. To be fair to him you didn’t even know him when everything happened so you don't blame him too much.

As promised, Bucky comes looking for you as soon as he and Steve get back to the tower, finding you still on Scott's floor while you guys watch Despicable Me inside a huge blanket fort Cassie insisted on building in the middle of the floor of the living room.

Thankfully the other occupants of this floor, Bruce, Thor and Loki, are still in New Asgard. He’s just about to turn around and go back to his room when you notice him.

"Hey Bucky! Where are you going, how did it go?" he looks uncertainly at Scott and his daughter before answering.

"I was just gonna…" he trails off, pointing behind him towards the elevator.

"Nonsense, come here." you tell him, patting the seat next to you in the fort.

He’s a little hesitant, but slowly comes further into the room, sitting on the ground, leaving a little space between you.

You give him a smile that he shyly returns before you hear a little voice clearing her throat, which brings your attention to the little girl on your right. "Yes, Princess Cassie?"

"And who would this be, Queen Y/N?" Bucky’s a little confused by the interaction, but says nothing.

"This is Bucky. What title would you like to give him?" Cassie thinks about it for a second while staring very intently at Bucky, narrowing her eyes at him, and you can’t hide your amusement.

That is, until Cassie suddenly lands on a role for Bucky.

"He should be the King!" she says, looking from him to you a couple of times "You guys look good together." you’re about to say something, when Scott beats you to the punch.

"She’s right, I can see it." he says putting his hands up and looking through them to frame you and Bucky together, clearly much more amused than you are at the situation.

You sigh, knowing you can’t escape this. "Well, what Princess Cassie says goes. I’m sorry, King Bucky, you’re stuck with me now."

You turn to Bucky who's still very confused, and is now also starting to turn slightly pink, so you decide to explain.

"We’re playing make believe. Cassie is the Princess, Scott is the Jester and I’m the Queen. I’m sorry to inform you you’ve been crowned King of the castle." you gesture to the fort with your hands.

"And also Y/N’s husband!" Cassie feel the need to shout, making your head snap to her with wide eyes while Bucky turns even redder, your own face starting to change color now.

"He gets it, Princess." you try not to snap at her, she’s just a kid and doesn’t mean anything by it, but it’s still pretty embarrassing.

You see Scott snickering behind Cassie and glare at him as much as you can trying to go unnoticed by her, but Cassie's attention is on the super soldier now.

"You're going to play with us, right?" she asks him in a  sweet voice, making the biggest puppy eyes you've ever seen. She certainly knows what she's doing.

Bucky, who hasn't said anything until now, doesn't know what to do. He looks at you for help and you give him an encouraging smile.

He then looked at Scott, worried that the man might want Bucky anywhere near his daughter, but Scott simply nods his head with a smile.

Bucky relaxes a bit and turned his attention back to the little girl, trying to find the right thing to say.

"Of course I'll play with you. After all, the Princess’ word is law." Cassie starts giggling at the bow he gives her, and you're almost giddy at seeing this side of Bucky, more relaxed than he's been since he got here.

Granted, it was just a couple of days ago, but he seems to be making a lot of progress really fast, so far, just like Steve said after he hugged you yesterday morning.

You keep watching the movie, then the second one and you get halfway through the third when Maggie comes by to pick up Cassie.

So, with the promise not to finish the movie without her, you and Bucky say goodbye to all three and make your way to your shared floor.

"You were right, she really is adorable." Bucky says with a smile as you get into the elevator.

"I know, it’s pretty hard to stay mad at Scott when he lets me hang out with her." you smile back at him. "So, how did your meeting go?"

You see Bucky tense and feel a little bad. You really didn’t mean to make him uncomfortable, but you were genuinely curious and also wanted to support him. After all you know having a hearing isn’t certainly gonna be easy.

"I’m sorry, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to." You quickly reassure him and he seems to relax and gives you a nod.

When he doesn’t say anything else, you let it go. But Bucky had a question himself.

"Why are you ignoring everyone but me?" you sigh.

You don't blame him for being curious, you yourself are as nosy as they come. Always in a respectful manner, of course.

"I’m mad at them." You simply say. "They selfishly kept a pretty big thing from me. They made me feel bad, knowing they were lying to me. They’re my family, they should trust me more than this. I’ll get over it, eventually, but for now I’m happy avoiding everybody." you shrug. You know it’s kind of childish, but you also don’t care.

"Okay, I understand that… But why are you not avoiding me?" Now you’re confused.

"Why would I avoid you?" he bows his head in shame, not meeting your eyes as you exit the elevator and you already know you’re not going to like his answer.

"I’m the reason it all happened in the first place… it’s all my fault." You can feel the sadness in his voice, you can see he actually feels bad about causing this.

You, on the other hand, don't agree.

"Bucky," you start, stopping right in front of him, forcing him to stop too, looking up and quickly putting his hands on your arms to make sure you don't fall after almost colliding with you. "you can’t blame yourself for other people’s choices. Steve chose to help you, Tony chose to fight it, everybody else chose a side. None of it was on you. You didn’t ask anybody to do anything. So, please, stop feeling guilty."

Bucky looks at you silently for a few moments and you feel like he's searching your face for any hint that you might be lying, that you don't really believe what you were saying.

But he doesn't to find any so he nods and says "I’ll try." with his hands still on your arms and it's like you're suddenly registering just how close he is and how warm his touch is on your skin.

He’s about to say something else, when you hear someone clear their throat behind you.

Bucky drops his hands from you like they burned and you turn around, almost feeling like you got caught doing something wrong when you see Steve and Sam just standing there looking at you two.

Steve has that stupid grin on his face that he doesn’t seem to be able to wipe every time he sees you and Bucky together, but Sam looks more concerned than anything.

"Everything okay here?" he says and you can’t help but roll your eyes at his insinuation that something might be wrong just because you’re alone with Bucky.

You turn back to the brunette super soldier and smile at him "I’m gonna go to my room, I still have some reports to finish. See you later?"

You wait until he nods and then get on your tippy toes to give him a kiss on the cheek like this morning, smiling a little more when you back away and see a little pink hue coming back to his face, but with a smile nonetheless.

You turn around and pass the other two men without saying a word, hearing them sigh behind you as you walk away towards your room.

Maybe you’re being a little dramatic, but you don’t feel like forgiving anybody else just yet.

So that’s how you find yourself spending more and more time with Bucky.

It feels like you spent all your free time with each other, only being apart at night and when Bucky joins the team for dinner.

He tried to get out of it multiple times to join you when you would eat in the kitchen of your floor, but Steve insists that it would be better for him to be around the team, even if just for an hour a day, and you fully agree.

That, however, doesn’t stop him from joining you afterwards just so you won't have to eat alone, for which you're grateful.

Initially Bucky's pretty content just following you around like a lost puppy, a fact that Sam and Steve never fail to mention as it amuses them to no end.

But Bucky doesn't care, and neither do you as you enjoy each other’s presence, even in silence.

Bucky likes watching you go about your day, still amazed by everything you do and you like having him near you. It makes you feel safe.

Still, the more time you spent together, the more comfortable he feels around you.

The real turning point comes when one night you open your door to find a disheveled looking Bucky, and you know immediately that him knocking at your door at 3 am meant nothing good.

Which is confirmed when he sniffles and you realize he has tears streaming down his face.

Without saying anything you hold out your hand, which he instantly takes as he lets you guide him inside, shutting the door behind him.

You walk to the bed and sit down, hand still in his and, when he just stands there you tug on it, silently letting him know that it's okay for him to join you.

You expect him to sit next to you as he’s done countless times now while leaving a respectful space between you, always the gentleman.

What you didn’t expect is him crawling into your bed, taking you to lay down with him, and hugging you as tightly as he can without hurting you, his legs also wrapping around yours.

To say you're shocked right now is an understatement. You always made a point to keep physical touch to a minimum when it comes to Bucky, not wanting to do anything to make him uncomfortable.

But here he is, clinging to you like a scared little kid, crying his eyes out with his head buried in the crook your neck.

You wrap your arms around his shaking body, hugging him as tight as he is, rubbing his back to try and soothe him, whispering what you hope are words of encouragement in his ear. 

You stay like that for a while until he finally calms down and stops crying.

You don’t rush him to let go or to talk about it, letting him decide if and when he's ready to talk at all.

After a few minutes of total silence you think the poor guy cried himself to sleep, but he proves you wrong by moving his head away from your neck and placing it on your chest.

You feel him play with your necklace as he starts talking with a quiet voice that reminds you of the first day you met him. "I’m sorry, doll. I didn’t want to bother you, but I didn’t want to be alone and had nowhere else to go." and your heart breaks for him.

"Don’t apologize, Buck. You can always come to me, it doesn’t matter what time it is."

He looks up, looking at you like you hung the moon and stars just for him, and seems like he's about to say something else but thinks better of it, his mouth opening and closing a couple of times.

He settles for giving you a gentle squeeze and moving his head back to lay on you, but you don't need words to know he's grateful for your understanding.

He's seemingly unashamed of the way he's still clinging to you and you’d be lying if you said you mind being so close to him either.

You start running your hand through his hair, which he seems to appreciate, and, after a few more minutes of silence, he starts speaking again.

He tells you about the nightmares he’s been having ever since he escaped Hydra, and that tonight, after a particularly gruesome one, he just couldn’t stand being alone.

He doesn't go into too much detail about the dream but tells you enough for you to want to take a few firearms and track down every single person connected to Hydra so you can put as many bullets in them as you can carry, then light them on fire for good measure.

But, Bucky being your first priority, you stay where you are and try your best to comfort him, eventually changing the subject to keep his mind off the nightmare.

You talk until the sun comes up, birds chirping, but neither of you make a move to get up at any point, eventually falling asleep for a couple of hours in each other’s arms.

Part 6

Taglist: @aesthetic0cherryblossom @buchi91 @sapphirebarnes @ordelixx

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes imagine #sebastian stan #marvel fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky x you #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x f!reader #avengers x reader #avengers x platonic reader #avengers x platonic!reader

[hellfireclubmember]

No More Yarn

summary?: this is all fluff. like all the interactions r fluff and everyone is annoying about ur crush on steve. i'm bad at writing summaries, so basically, u crochet gifts for everyone and then realize ur gift to steve might b a mistake but it turns out to b perfect.

warning(s): not thoroughly checked. Swearing

paring(s): steve harrington x reader

w/c: 2.1k

The smell of your favorite pine-scented candle and Nancy’s nail polish intertwined and flowed together through the air in your room. Music played through the speakers of your sound system, though you weren't sure what it was since the night's music selection was up to Robin. She liked to use girls' night to introduce you and Nancy to new music, trying her darnedest to get you both out of the habit of listening to the same three albums on your rotation. She wanted these hangouts to be fun but enlightening.

"How are the gifts turning out?" Robin asked from her position on the floor. She was on her back with her hand on Nancy's lap.

Your eyes darted from the crochet hook in your hand to the ball of yarn in front of you. The ball of black yarn that had started out quite large was now a fourth of its original size. You were very proud of yourself for going through it so quickly. Of course, you struggled a little with the first few gifts. Your right hand cramped up horribly when you were crocheting Dustin's gloves. But after Max's scarf, it had become almost robotic. The repetitive motion was now muscle memory.

"I'm actually almost done." You looped yarn over the hook. "I'm working on Steve's, and his is the last one."

"You should take your time on that one." Nancy mumbled while brushing black glitter over Robin's nails. "Have to make Steve's extra special."

The looping came to a stop. "I don't know what you're talking about. Why would I make Steve's extra special? You guys are all my friends."

Robin and Nancy shared a knowing look. You never admitted it to them directly, but they knew your feelings for Steve were far more than platonic. Robin had known longer than anyone. She'd watched you pine over Steve since freshman year of high school. She never thought anything of it, everyone had some sort of infatuation with King Steve, so it was no surprise that even her best friend was not immune to the charm that is Steve 'the hair' Harrington. She figured the spell would wear off rather quickly. Adolescent crushes are nothing if not fleeting, and she was sort of right.

The intense crush was nothing but a soft, fizzy feeling in your chest by the end of junior year. You thought everything was over once Steve graduated, but then you spent the summer working at Scoops Ahoy with him and Robin. With every work shift, you could feel the familiar flutter of butterflies in your stomach. The small ruins of the short-lived crush were soon a flourishing oasis.

And anyone that saw you interact could immediately see how pathetically in love you were with Steve. Again, nothing had ever been admitted. As much as Robin, Nancy, Max, and Eleven pestered, and sometimes downright bullied you about it, you never broke.

Same goes for Steve, no matter the amount of annoying whining and questioning he received from the rest of the peanut gallery. If he did like you, that was his business, and he knew the second he opened his mouth to any of the many children he lugged around, it would be everybody's business. They're not ones to keep a secret for too long.

"Yeah, you're right. So what are you making your friend Steve anyway?" Nancy closed the bottle of polish and hopped onto your bed.

"A beanie." You lifted your almost finished work up for her to inspect. It was simple, just something to keep him warm since it had begun to get cold out already.

"You're giving Steve Harrington a hat?" Robin questioned, looking far too confused.

Yeah, I mean, it’s getting really cold, and I want you all to be warm." You began looping yarn into itself again. You didn’t see anything wrong with any of the gifts you were making for your friends.

"(y/n), come on. Steve wearing a hat?" Robin sat on your bed next to you. "When have you ever seen Steve doing anything to mess up his hair?" She was being realistic. Steve was always careful not to ruin his hair. Even at Scoops, he would get written up for not wearing his sailor’s hat all the time. He always said his charm heavily relied on his hair.

You paused. "Oh, no." You put your crochet hook down. "You're right; he's going to hate it. He's going to think I don't know him at all." You shook your head. "I should've just made him a scarf."

"He's not going to hate it." Nancy pinched Robin in the arm while you were looking down at your work. "He'll love whatever you give him, okay? Don't worry about it." She wasn't fully convinced. Nancy knew he wouldn't hate it; she knew Steve would love that you made him anything at all. She just wasn't too sure he would actually wear it.

-

It had been a few days since you finished everyone's gifts. You planned on handing them out the second you were finished, but you were too busy driving around town trying to find more yarn. You wanted to make Steve a scarf so you didn't have to give him the most unthoughtful gift ever, but the only yarn left at the craft store was some ugly puke green and neon orange. You were convinced Mrs. Thistle was behind the shortage of yarn. The last time you saw her, she was knitting a blanket on her porch, all smug.

You were all in Steve's backyard, sitting around the crackling bonfire. It was a nice night to be out, even with the low temperature. The sky was almost bright with all the glittering stars. Will was teaching El how to roast a marshmallow, and you were trying not to freak out before handing everyone their gifts.

"Alright, everyone! (y/n) has something for all of us." Nancy clapped her hands to get everyone's attention. She was already wearing the scarf you crocheted for her, and Robin the sweater. You gave Dustin his gloves when you picked him up. So, there were only a few left.

You stood up and started handing out the crocheted goods. "If you don't like what I give you, well, sucks. There is apparently no more yarn in Indiana."

"Woah, (y/n). Thanks. This is fucking awesome!" Eddie immediately put on his scarf. He posed and modeled it for everyone, earning some laughs and some boos from the crowd. Dustin went as far as to throw a marshmallow at him, which Eddie grabbed from the ground and tried to shove into the younger boy's mouth.

You sat down next to Steve, his gift sitting at the bottom of the gift bag, taunting you. "Is there anything in there for me?" He leaned over to look into the bag, and you quickly grabbed it.

"Of course." You looked around and locked eyes with Robin. She gave you an encouraging thumbs-up. She was feeling pretty guilty for making you so nervous in the first place. "I really hope you like it. You can tell me if you don't; I won't be upset at all. I mean it, not even a little. Whenever Mrs. Thistle stops monopolizing all the yarn, I can..."

“Hey,” Steve put his hand over yours and squeezed. “Of course, I’m gonna like it.” One look into those pretty brown eyes, and you're jelly in his perfect hands. It should make you feel pathetic, but it doesn’t. Nothing you felt for Steve could ever make you feel pathetic.

Without hesitation, you handed him the small, forest green gift bag. With bated breath, you watched as he opened it and reached inside for the plush hat. Robin and Nancy were both watching intently, ready to kill Steve at even the slightest hint of dissatisfaction. But there wasn't any. Once he had the beanie in his hands, he smiled.

“Are you kidding? This is perfect.” He put the hat on his beautiful hair, absolutely no second thoughts about messing it up. Steve was just happy to get anything you spent time making. He thought about you hunched over, working hard with balls of yarn all around you. There was no world out there where he cared more about his hair than he did about you.

“Is Steve Harrington wearing a hat on his beautiful locks? That can’t be Steve, right Dustin? Maybe a clone?” Eddie put his hand on the younger boy’s shoulder. “An enchanter from a different time disguised as our little Stevie.”

Mike shot up and stared at Steve. That dumb, confused look taking over him like he’s trying to solve one of life’s great mysteries.

“Shut up, freak.” A second marshmallow flung at Eddie’s head. This time he caught it midair, looking very impressed with his skills. He shucked into his mouth, and with the mouthful of sweetness said. “Yeah, that’s our Steve.”

Just like that, everyone was back to their own conversations. The whole interaction forgotten. Steve, however, turned his attention back to you, the beanie on his head.

“I love it. But you know that would make this even better?” He grabbed the hat off his head, once-neat hair, wild. The kind of wild that was still weirdly perfect, like each strand had been purposefully placed. Your hand itched with the need to run your fingers through it. “Maybe you could add your initials for me.”

Heat immediately traveled up your neck and rested on your face, burning at your cheeks. The chilly, Indiana air did nothing to help. “You… um… you want me to sew my initials on your hat?”

“Yeah.” He gave you that lopsided smile you liked. His eyes focused on you. At the rate things were going, it felt like your heart would just give out in front of all your friends. Steve had always been flirty with you. He was in love with you, and he knew that as a fact. So, he couldn’t help the pet names and the lingering touches. And you didn’t make it any easier, giving him gifts you spent time hand-making for him.

“Oh.” There was a beat of silence as you tried to steady your racing heart. “Right. Yeah, I can do that.” You turned your head forward. You caught sight of Robin and Nancy, both sitting on the edge of their seats. You rolled your eyes so hard your head hurt for a minute. You knew you had to prepare yourself for all the harassment you would have to endure later.

“And maybe when you do, I could wear it on our first date.” He leaned forward. He wanted to get a good look at your face. “How about ice skating?”

Before you could even think up a response, there was a loud bang. "Oh my god! Finally!" It was Robin. She had jumped up so quickly her chair fell out from under her and onto the tiled ground of Steve's backyard.

"Jeez, Robin. What the hell?" Max clutched her chest, her glare now fixed on the older girl.

"Steve finally made a move, everyone!" Robin yelled out to her audience. Her arms were outstretched as if she ran a marathon and came out in first place. She wore the smuggest look you had ever seen on anyone. "Our boy has done it. All it took was what? Like a year and a half?" She turned to Nancy for confirmation.

"Yeah, just about." The curly-haired girl nodded.

"Oh wow, Steve." Dustin stood up and took big steps around the bonfire to get to you both. He patted Steve on the back. "Congratulations. We were all trying to get you to at least admit your feelings to us."

"But you jumped a whole step and went for it." Lucas spoke up from his lounge chair. "Good on you, dude."

"Alright, all of you, and I mean this in the most disrespectful way possible, fuck off." Steve gave a glare to each of your friends, all personalized for the receiver.

"Wow, one confession and now he's all big and bad." Mike whispered to Dustin. They just shook their heads disappointedly. Everyone else tried their best to look like they weren't listening, like they were all extremely invested in their own conversations. But the constant side-eye gave them all away. For a group that kept the biggest secret from all of humanity, they sure sucked at eavesdropping.

The pretty boy sitting next to you didn't care if they were listening or not. He continued as if they weren't. There was no way he was going to let anything get in the way of finally having enough confidence to ask out the one girl he has had serious feelings for since Nance.

When he turned his head to look back at you, you leaned forward and gently kissed his lips. It was quick. So quick, he could almost swear he dreamt it up if it weren't for the wolf whistles and cheering heard all around him.

"I'd love to go anywhere with you, Stevie."

The cheering stopped. "Alright, we get it. You guys are just making me sick now." Eddie yelled out. Soon after, there were about five marshmallows in the air, all aimed at Eddie's head.

taglist: @slashersluttt @slurmp69 @sadbitchfangirll @actual-mom-steve-harrington @stylesyourmine @pennyllanne @johnricharddeacy

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve x reader #stranger things s4 #stranger things #stranger things x reader #joe keery

[somewhereincairparavel]

okay. So I've finished book 1 of keeper of the lost cities for the first time. And I'm loving this keefe dude already?? Like I never thought I'd like a fictional character so quickly. All it took was like one page for me to fall for him, I am aware that keefe is one of the most loved characters in the fandom, and I can see why (correct me if I'm wrong).

Also the book is a solid 9.5/10, the only thing I was frustrated about was probably the slight info dumping about the whole blackswan thing towards the end? because it took me like 3 reads to understand the whole situation, of course, we could just narrow it down to me being slow too, lol. But I'm VERY excited to continue reading the rest. So while we're at it, I'll put in my first impressions of the characters, so I can look back on it after I've read all the books, to see how much my perception has changed of them.

Sophie- i like her, she's really mature for her age, I keep forgetting that she's like 12 lmao. But she's well written, her emotions seem very raw and natural. Of course, she may seem overpowered but, I think that's the whole point of the story, she is supposed to be overpowered, so I don't mind and i wouldn't call her a Mary sue. Overall great protagonist, my girlie deserves a break tho, she got dumped in the hospital atleast 6 times lol.

Fitz- i actually think he's cool. I liked him better in the beginning of the story tho, I feel like afterwards, the dude kinda just disappeared a little? Keefe and Sophie seemed to have more private interaction than those two, and keefe literally only came by in the middle. But yeah, I feel like he had more of a personality in the start. Keefe and Dex, in my opinion had more personality in 5 minutes than fitz did the whole book, but I wouldn't judge so quickly, it's only the first book after all, Hopefully he'd have more page time in the later books. I still like him tho, just not as much as keefe.

Dex- Yeah he is such a typical best friend, I love him. His beef w the vackers is so funny lol I was relieved when Sophie stuck with him even after she became popular tho, also, he seems to have a crush on sophie right? It's kinda obvious, but overall friendship goals 10/10. I vocally "AWW-ed" after he said "are you kidding, i can't wait to tell everyone that you're my first friend" like I need a guy bestie like him :(

Alden- honestly, my heart warmed so much with his father-like dynamic with sophie tbh. He seemed to genuinely care about her well being, but I don't want to get too attached to him tho, just in case becomes a traitor or some shit later on, you can literally never tell with the adults lol. I've read enough books to back that up. But yeah, i really like him and della, the amount of reassuring hugs he gives sophie really heals me :(, They're like sophies 2nd (well, in her case, 3rd) parents. The amount of effort and lengths Alden put to get her out of trouble is actually sweet.

Elwin- This guy is such a W. He is like an adult keefe tbh. He is probably my favorite adult so far lol.

Cassius- I'm sorry, but Mr jerk face over here reminds me SO much of Lucius Malfoy??? Like ?? I feel so bad for Keefe, like poor baby leave him alone smh. I really wanna deck his royal highness in the face tbh.

Biana- absolutely loathed her in the beginning, she gave off such bad snob vibes lol but I love her now. I like the trope of two people forced to be friends w eachother by someone actually end up becoming friends. It's rather uncommon as far as I've read, atleast.

Grady and Edaline- is it bad that i thought they were going to be evil? Yeah I have so much trust issues, it's concerning. But yeah, they're both big W's, their backstory, their temporary contemplation to reject sophies adoption, everything aligned well with their backstory. Greatly written characters.

And last but not least, the king himself, Keefe- okay, he's like added to my list of fictional crushes now lol (along with Percy Jackson, Jason grace, Steve Harrington, chat noir, Eugene fitzherbert, edmund pevensie and Ravi singh ofc). How does sophie not have a fat crush on him, like- ma'am if you don't want him, I'll take him. But jokes aside, he feels like the most authentic character out of them all, tbh. Epitome of great writing. He was inserted to the story as this random dude that sophie runs into, and becomes an og in like 5 minutes. He is like a mix of Eugene from tangled, Kristoff from Frozen and chat noir from mlb all at the same time?? I cannot wait to see more of him and his backstory, especially with his parents. I know alot of people dislike the humorous guy with depression trope since it's overused, but I like how it played out on keefe, he uses school as an escape, which is very relatable.

Also, bonus, i LOVE the world building, the light leaping and all, very creative. I cannot wait to get my hands on book 2

#kotlc #kotlc fandom #sophie foster #keeper of the lost cities #biana vacker #kotlc keefe #keefe sencen #fitz vacker #alden vacker #della vacker #kotlc elwin #kotlc sophie #dex dizznee

[galexystern]

wait for me

pairing; dad!steve harrington/reader

rating; T

warnings; ANGST, fluff, happy ending, pining, getting together, steve has a daughter, reader's nickname is Poppy

word count; 4.2k

desc; an examination of your and steve's friendship leads to something on a random halloween night.

a/n; this was based off a dream i had that contained the titular phrase as written in the fic

read on ao3 / masterlist

The metal chain squeaks as you gently rock the front porch swing back and forth. You watch neighborhood kids run down the blocked-off street, parents trailing behind and holding their coats, unable to coax the children into wearing them and covering up their costumes. It’s a chilly Halloween night, and when the various witches, ghosts, and angels come visit you for candy they have red cheeks, sniffing snot back into their noses. But they’ll be fine. Kids are resilient. 

You wave to a couple you vaguely recognize, as their daughter, dressed in a very elaborate princess costume, races back to them to show off her treasure. Steve’s house is known for handing out full-size candy bars, so the kids are eager to come here. Melissa used to complain about buying such expensive stuff just to hand it out to ungrateful kids, but you’ve always liked it. The kids of Hawkins deserve it after everything this town has gone through.

The front door opens next to you, and you glance over to spot the host himself, flushed and tipsy on wine. He spots you, grins widely, and walks over to sit on the swing with you, making it sway with his added weight.

“What’re you doing out here?” He asks, pushing hair out of his face.

“Just needed some air,” you reply, trying to project that everything is okay, that you’re okay.

Steve hums like he doesn’t quite believe you, but doesn’t push it further. You both watch as a pair of siblings come up the drive, adorably dressed as Batman and Robin. They stop a foot away from the swing.

“Trick or treat,” Batman, clearly the elder brother, says. Robin doesn’t join him, and Batman elbows him gently. “Go ahead.”

“Trick or treat,” Robin adds, very quietly, and you smile.

“You two look great,” you reply, and hold out the bowl for the boys to choose. Their eyes grow wide at the selection–they must be newcomers. “One for each of you, go on.”

Batman picks out a full-size Hershey’s bar while Robin goes for a Kit-Kat. “Thank you!” They chorus before leaping off the porch and running away. You and Steve both laugh. When it dies down, you let the silence linger, still half-inside your own head.

“Hey,” Steve says softly, and you look at him. You’re caught by his eyes, as usual, somehow always shining no matter the amount of light. You think they’d glow even in the pitch-black dark, and you’d get lost in them then too. You blink to keep from drowning and pay attention to the rest of his face. His expression is one of concern and worry, and your heart clenches. He continues, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you insist.

“Bullshit,” he shoots back, immediately looking around to make sure he hasn’t taught any kids a new curse word, and you huff a giggle. But it fades when he turns to you again. “I know you better than anyone else. I can tell when something’s up.”

“You do, don’t you?” You murmur. Steve Harrington still knows you best, maybe even better than you know yourself, even after everything. It’s kind of astounding. It was true when you were in school together, best friends from 7th grade on, ever since you shared Mr. Duncan’s science class and found company in misery. It was true when King Steve ruled the school, only talking under the cover of night when no one could see him interacting with you–which you gave him plenty of shit for when he was dethroned. It was true even when you left Hawkins and went off to college, Steve unable to follow, since you two had talked on the phone nearly every day, all four years minus the semester you studied abroad in Prague (you sent letters to each other instead). And it’s still true now.

There’s always been something between you, a tension, an electric current that you feel even now. You’d both danced around it, never quite acknowledging it, never doing anything about it. Sure, there was flirty banter, that’s always been around, but nothing physical. No kissing, no hand-holding, no cuddling–no matter how much you wanted to, or how many times the opportunity arose, or how many people asked when you two would get over yourselves and just get together already.

Being away from Hawkins and him was the cincher for you. You loved Steve as a friend, but resisted letting it blossom into romance. You knew you were leaving for a while and didn’t want the two of you to hold each other back, because maybe you’d find something better. You should’ve known–there’s nothing better than Steve. You realized your first year away. You thought about confessing your feelings, but never actually did, reassuring yourself that he would be here when you returned and if it was meant to be it will. 

But when you came home, ready to pick up where you’d left off, hoping to be something more, you’d found Steve seriously dating a pretty girl with a baby on the way. It’d thrown you for a loop. You two were meant to be. Why weren’t you?

He hadn’t mentioned Melissa or the pregnancy to you at all. You’d wanted to ask why, felt desperate with it, but he was panicking about becoming a father and needed his best friend more than a confrontation. Besides, clearly the ship had sailed. What did it matter if he hadn’t told you about her? He wasn’t yours anymore. You stayed by his side during the pregnancy, but after the birth he’d drifted, caught up in the joys of new parenthood with Melissa. You two had spoken here and there, phone calls that lasted a few hours every couple of months, but you didn’t really see him anymore.

You’d felt lost then, unmoored without the constant presence of your longtime best friend. Your “almost mine.” Your “it should’ve been you.”

Now, you look over your shoulder, into the living room through the window. Robin and her girlfriend Abby are on the couch, snuggling and talking to Nancy and Jonathan. Their kids are on the floor, sorting through their candy and trading away the ones they don’t like, Steve’s own Penny partaking. You watch as she trades a Snickers for an Almond Joy with Brian, Eddie’s son with his fiancée Natalie. Eddie’s absent from the room, but you know he’s in the basement with Dustin and all of them, playing D&D.

Melissa isn’t here. She and Steve broke up a year ago, too different to make it work. She didn’t like Steve’s chosen family and he didn’t like her real one; she thought he was a pushover and he thought she was a bitch. It wasn’t because of you. You have to keep reminding yourself that you didn’t break them up–a relief and a heartache. Relief because you weren’t the cause. Heartache because you weren’t the reason.

Steve had resurfaced after the breakup, and you’d guess Melissa hadn’t wanted you around, for reasons that are not entirely unfounded. She had you wrong though–you loved Steve but you weren’t going to do anything about it.

You’d liked her well enough. She was nice and a good mom to Penny and got along with everyone, but you weren’t surprised when the relationship ended. After all, you know Steve better than anyone else. You could tell it wasn’t working, but they made a valiant try, for Penny’s sake, who had taken their breakup much better than expected. (You suspect she’s just really excited for two of every holiday.) She’s one spoiled little girl, mostly because you like to spoil her. You love her to death–how could you not, she’s the spitting image and personality of Steve–and you’re thankful she loves you back. You once worried it was just because of all the presents you got her, but Steve reassured you that she loves hanging out with you and always asks when you’re coming over so you two can play. It still warms your heart every time she races for a hug whenever you arrive.

“Of course I do.” Steve snaps you back to the present, and you downplay your flinch. “Now tell me.”

You look at him. He’s quite serious.

“Why didn’t you tell me about Melissa while I was at school?” You ask.

Steve blinks at the unexpected question. It is out of the blue, but also a conversation long overdue. “I don’t know,” he replies, running a hand through his hair. “It just never seemed right.”

“You could’ve told me at any time. It didn’t need an introduction.”

“I know. I just…” He sighs. Looks out towards the street. You keep your eyes on him. “Whenever we talked, I kinda forgot about it.”

“Forgot about your girlfriend? Who was pregnant?”

“Come on, you know she was only a couple weeks along when you got back. Don’t act like she was about to pop.”

“It was a serious life event, Steve.” He doesn’t reply. “Okay, then just Melissa. How’d you forget her?”

“Just…whenever we talk, it feels like the outside world sort of melts away, you know? It’s you and me, in our own little universe. It’s hard to remember things outside of it.”

You nod. You know the feeling.

“And I think I always knew Melissa wasn’t right for me. But we were together and then she was pregnant and I couldn’t just leave her, I wouldn’t do that. You know I wouldn’t.” You grab his hand and squeeze, reassuring him that you do. “It felt wrong to tell you about it. You’d see right through it. I didn’t want you to.”

“Why not?”

Steve suddenly turns to face you, frustrated. “Why are you asking about this?” He huffs out. You tilt your head and admire his features in the soft light coming from the house.

“You were supposed to wait for me,” you eventually answer softly.

His face curls inward with anguish. “We never–that’s–that’s not fair.”

“I know.”

“You never said anything.”

“I know.”

“I didn’t know.”

“I know.”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

You shrug. “Why didn’t you?”

“‘Cause I woulda just held you back.” He says it so quickly, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, like he’s thought about it a lot.

“No, you wouldn’t,” you reply instantly. You want to ask why he would think such a thing, but didn’t you think the same of yourself?

“I would have,” he insists. You open your mouth to retort, but he doesn’t let you. “Look, you were going places, you did go places. I wasn’t going anywhere, besides the mall for my dead-end job that only lasted like two months. I didn’t wanna be some kinda weight dragging you down.”

“You could’ve come with me.”

“You know I couldn’t’ve left with everything happening. With the Upside Down.” He sighs. “And you never asked.”

You nod sadly. “I didn’t. But I wish you’d been there.”

His eyes close, looking like he’s in an immense amount of pain. “Me too,” he whispers, voice breaking a little, making your heart break too. Then he clears his throat and blanks his expression. “Stop. I don’t wanna go down this road, of what could’ve been. It’s too painful.”

You brush away a falling tear with your thumb, trying to be subtle, but you know Steve catches it. He catches everything. “I understand,” you say quickly, to end the conversation. “I’m sorry I brought it up.” You can feel more tears coming, so you stand abruptly and take a few steps towards the stairs. “I’m just gonna go.” Steve says your name but you’re already turning away. “Tell Penny I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye, that I got sick or something. Tell her I love her.” He says your name again, more desperately, but you can’t stay here. You don’t look back, crying silently now, and just keep walking.

;

Steve watches you disappear from view and sighs, then goes back inside.

“Daddy!” Penny yells when she sees him, running over. He catches her in a leap. “Hi, baby.”

He tickles her side just to hear her laugh, and it raises his spirits a little. “Come look at all my candy!” She says excitedly, squirming to be set down.

Steve acquiesces and she darts into the living room, pulling him along. He squats next to her, admiring her haul. “You really got a lot, huh?”

She nods happily, then peers behind him. “Daddy, where’s Poppy?” That’s her nickname for you–you get a poppyseed stuck in your teeth one time—and Steve feels his heart squeeze in his chest, both at her question and the conversation he’d just had with you.

“She had to go, sweetheart, she wasn’t feeling well.” Penny pouts. “She told me to tell you sorry, and that she loves you.” That makes her smile, which causes Steve to as well. “C’mere, tell me all about your trick or treating.”

He sits in an armchair and plops Penny on his lap, who is already regaling him with a story involving the house that gave out floss instead of candy. He chuckles–must be the dentist. She keeps going–she’s a talker, a blessing and a curse–until she runs out of stories, their guests interrupting here and there to say goodbye and head out. When she’s finally silent, it’s just them in the house, and they’re watching It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown.

He can’t pay attention to it. He’s playing his conversation with you on a loop in his head. To be honest, it’d been a long time coming, and yet he’d still been caught off-guard. It was a topic he hadn’t allowed himself to think about all his life: what you and him really were.

It was innocent once upon a time. You two were just friends, bonding over your hatred of theorems and weekly Friday quizzes. He’d sit with you at lunch and make fun of the jocks and cheerleaders and their snotty attitudes. And then he became one of those jocks and he distanced himself from you to look cool. It worked, but he couldn’t let go of you completely–he made sure to see you at night, tucked away in the safety of your bedroom, or talk to you on the phone, always by himself. It was kinda miserable during the day, and sometimes he’d spot you in the hallway or across the cafeteria and remember how much fun you used to have together, how he wouldn’t have to pretend to be someone he wasn’t, and he’d miss you so much his chest hurt.

Then came Nancy Wheeler. She was partly something he wanted, someone he liked, and partly a distraction from the absence of you. She was pretty and nice and he’d found himself falling rather hard without trying, but she wasn’t you. After they slept together for the first time, all he could think about was how it should’ve been you, with him in that bed, and whether you’d lost your virginity already and to whom. He reminded himself he didn’t have the right to be upset about that, or even think about it at all, but it was true all the same. But when the Upside Down made its appearance, he was beyond thankful that you weren’t involved or anywhere near it, despite how much he missed you.

Once he was deposed as king and his relationship with Nancy went up in flames, he went running back to you. You welcomed him with open arms–along with some well-deserved anger regarding his behavior that he apologized endlessly for–and it was like nothing had changed. You two were back to how it was before, attached at the hip. Though this time, there was something else there—or maybe it’d been there the whole time, and now he knew what it was—a crackle that sparked whenever you stood too close or laid in bed face-to-face. There were a million times he’d wanted to lean forward and kiss you, but he never did. He never made a move because he knew you were leaving.

And you did, off to a fancy college where you excelled, as he knew you would. He was surprised when the friendship stayed strong, long phone calls that lasted into the night and pen pal letters while you were abroad. But four years is a long time, and he was plagued by the idea of you finding someone else. So he did it first.

It wasn’t his brightest idea, but when he’d met Melissa, he couldn’t help but try. She was sweet and funny and they could seemingly talk about anything together. It was a whirlwind romance and it felt so good to have someone again, someone he could kiss and cuddle and love, who loved him back in the same way. But when the honeymoon phase ended, he could tell they weren’t made to last–she never wanted to hang out with his friends and complained that he was “too nice” to them, for doing things they’d ask. But why would he say no to the people closest to him, his chosen family? Cracks were forming.

That’s when Melissa found out she was pregnant. It was a wake-up call for both of them, but also an opportunity to fix things. He always wanted to be a father. She wanted to keep it. They thought they should try. Which they did, for a while. He was lucky you came back when you did, near the beginning of the pregnancy, and stood by him once again. You were crucial to his confidence in parenthood and he couldn’t have done any of it without your unyielding support. And he fell in love with Penny as soon as he saw her, felt like he was floating on air whenever he held her.

When the parenting got tough, so did Melissa, and she demanded that he distance himself from you. It was just as heart wrenching as it was in high school, but he did it, because Melissa was his girlfriend and the mother of his daughter and you were…you. An enigma he’d never taken the time to figure out. And it was just as hard as in high school, but the infrequent long phone calls he had with you sustained him through the next couple of years. Years full of bickering and colic and arguing and ear infections and fighting and silence and loneliness.

He and Melissa called it quits last year, unable to even be in the same room without being annoyed with each other, and now she lives a few towns over. She’d graciously given him full custody, knowing how much fatherhood and Penny meant to him, and saw her daughter for a weekend every month and every holiday. Penny was sad, as expected, but she also bounced back faster than anticipated. Steve considers that it makes sense because Melissa was never the most present or caring mother, and because you were there.

Penny loved you more than you knew. She adored whenever you came over and cried when you left. She’d look at everything and wonder what you’d think about it, asking Steve if he knew. Thankfully, he could always answer easily, because the first thing he did after breaking up with Melissa was rekindle your friendship. You were with him once again, and he wasn’t going to let you go again. But he really wanted something more.

In the present, Steve watches as Linus sits in the pumpkin field and finally admits to himself that he’d never told you about Melissa because it wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to have been with you. He was supposed to wait for you. Dammit, he should’ve kissed you on your bed all those years ago. Steve would never give up Penny for anything, and he’s more than grateful that she’s here and she’s his, but you should be too. You should’ve been a long time ago.

Penny looks up at him from her spot on his chest. “Daddy?” He hums. “Are you okay?”

Damn, he thought he’d been hiding it well. But his daughter is one perceptive little girl, and she knows her father’s moods. “Just a little sad, honey,” he explains. He’s always as honest as possible with her.

“Why are you sad?”

“It’s complicated, baby.”

Her eyebrows furrow cutely. “No, it’s not. If something makes you sad, you fix it. Then you’re happy again.”

“Not everything works that way,” Steve replies gently. He doesn’t go any further, leaving the heavy topics of good and evil for another day, way in the future. “You can’t fix some things.”

She looks skeptical. “Well, can you fix this thing that’s making you sad?”

He’s about to say no when his brain stops him with an idea. “Maybe,” he muses. He looks at Penny intently. “Baby, do you wanna go see Poppy?”

“Right now?” She gasps.

“Right this very instant.”

“Yes!” She shouts, and then she’s off his lap, running for the foyer. He can hear her jumping to get her coat off the hook. “Come on, Daddy!” He laughs and follows her. Once they’re both ready to go, Steve’s about to open the door when she says, “Wait!” She runs into the living and then comes back out holding a lollipop. He raises his eyebrows. “You said they’re sick. They give out suckers at the doctor’s office.” Like it’s obvious.

His entire body warms with love for his beautiful daughter, and he kisses the top of her head before opening the door. They both race to the car, he makes sure she’s strapped in, and then he gets in himself. He tries not to drive like a maniac to your house, for Penny’s sake, and he succeeds but it’s a hard-fought battle. Penny’s out of the car before he is, and she’s knocking on your door loudly by the time he joins her on the porch.

You open the door with red eyes and a surprised expression. Before you can say anything, Penny is yelling, “Poppy!” and barrelling towards you. You catch and hug her, and then Penny’s leaning back and gifting you a lollipop. “So you can get better,” she explains, and your heart overflows with love for her.

“Baby,” Steve interrupts, “can you go inside for a minute? Daddy needs to talk to Poppy.”

Penny nods and you set her down. She scampers into the house, going straight for the toys she keeps here, and you look back at him. “What are you guys doing here?”

“Because we’re being stupid, you and I.” You go to protest but Steve continues. “We shouldn’t be worrying about how different everything could’ve been. We can’t change it. And I know neither of us would give up Penny for the world.” You nod in agreement. “So all we have is the present. And I don’t wanna spend another moment in it without doing this.”

Steve leans forward and kisses you. It’s soft lips and hands on hips and noses grazing gently. It’s everything you’ve ever dreamed of. It’s nothing you’ve ever felt before. It’s long overdue. It’s the perfect time. It’s what should’ve been. It’s what is.

You’re both breathless when he pulls away. “Let’s let go of the past. Let’s skip the guilt and regret and sadness. I don’t want anything to stop us anymore, because it’s always been you. It’ll always be you.”

You’re nodding before he finishes, and you’re kissing him as soon as he is. You both melt into it, grabbing at each other desperately, making up for lost time. Then there’s a loud, little-girl gasp, and you wrench away from each other; Penny is in the foyer behind you, staring with wide eyes. “Does this mean you two are together?” She demands.

You look at her with shyness, of all things. “Is that okay?”

A huge smile spreads across her face. “Yes!” She screams excitedly, and races for you. You’re laughing as you haul her up into your arms. She pulls away to look at Steve. “This is the best idea ever!”

Now he’s laughing as well. “I agree.” He gives you a sweet kiss.

“I need kisses too!” Penny admonishes, and the two of you kiss her cheeks at the same time. She erupts into giggles, and you and Steve beam at her.

“Do you wanna have a sleepover tonight?” You ask. 

“Uh, yeah!” She answers, like it’s a dumb question.

You look at Steve. “What she said,” he smirks.

You huff and gently kick his foot with yours. “Come on then.” You turn and go inside, already talking with Penny about who knows what. Steve follows with a huge smile, closing the door behind him.

He later finds himself sitting on the couch, you and Penny on either side, cuddling into him. Penny yawns and blinks up at him. “Did you fix what was making you sad, Daddy?”

He looks at you, dozing on his chest, before looking at Penny, just as angelic. “I think so,” he murmurs, smiling. He doesn’t think he’s stopped since he kissed you.

Penny smiles back sleepily. “Good.” Then she’s out too, head tucked into his shoulder.

“Goodnight, my loves,” he whispers, and kisses both of your heads.

#steve harrington x reader #mine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #steve harrington x you

[jo-harrington]

Freaky Friday - A Stranger Things Story (Part 2)

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Word Count: 8.4k

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader, Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader, Eddie and Steve (Enemies to Friends)

Summary: Eddie thinks that Steve has everything in life handed to him on a silver platter (including his new girlfriend who Eddie has a crush on). And Steve just can't believe that the kids look up to Eddie the Freak, or that he lives his life without giving a single fuck.

Must be nice. But you know what they say, the grass is always greener.

Warnings/Themes: AU with no Upside Down. Body swapping, dark magic/alchemy, unrequited love, mutual pining, Babysitter Steve, No Upside Down means slightly still King Steve, unresolved feelings, manipulation/deception, Reader gets a nickname (Honey), no Y/N if I can help it, no smut in Part 2 either but the next chapter does get steamy.

Note: Ok big shout out to @ghost-proofbaby for her Steve lessons and just generally being a Steve soundboard. I'm not a Steve girl yet but...idk. And then also to @trashmouth-richie for being so supportive and listening as I ramble on about plot things. I admire you both as writers and love you guys as friends; thank you for your support.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

“No, no, no,” Steve whined as he approached the mirror, squishing his face and pinching at his cheeks. “This is a dream. I’m still asleep. Or I’m dead.”

He cleared his throat a few times, slapped it, pinched his Adam's apple. He used every bit of willpower in him to stop the voice that was coming out of his mouth from being Eddie’s voice. It didn't stop that everything else was Eddie's though.

Eddie’s hair. His face. His body.

Steve was in his house—trailer, Steve recalled. It was a trailer. He was wearing his clothes. Sleeping in his bed.

Steve vaguely recalled the thing he thought last night when Eddie left Family Video.

A curse.

Eddie had put a curse on Steve. Steve had made Eddie pay non-member prices for his stupid video rental and Eddie put a fucking curse on him?!

There was a knock at the door and Steve jumped.

"Everything alright in there Ed?" a hoarse, muffled voice asked.

"Uhhh," Steve tried to come up with some kind of response, but suddenly all of the excuses he could ever come up with eluded him. Every scrap of knowledge he had ever reluctantly learned about Eddie Munson—thwip—gone.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He had to focus, get in the moment, clear his head. If this was a basketball game or a swim meet, he would never let himself get this worked up.

"I'm fine," he started and then paused.

Eddie's parents weren't around anymore, who did he live with? The kids had mentioned it once or twice, said the guy was nice, a little rough around the edges. Said he let Eddie do whatever he wanted for the most part. His uncle...

"I'm fine Uncle W-wayne," Steve answered.

"Late for school," Wayne sighed. "You skipping again?"

"I--"

Steve didn't know what kind of excuse to come up with. What kind of excuses did Eddie give his uncle? His attendance was abysmal, Steve knew, and on the days he was in class, his attention was barely there. Always scribbling and doodling and cracking jokes when he was called on to answer.

He should have just dropped out the first time he failed, a fact that Steve had mocked him for repeatedly, let alone this second time.

Fuck, but if Steve was stuck in Eddie's body, he couldn't not go to school. He had enough trouble with his high school diploma, let alone without one. Maybe...maybe he could ask Dustin to help with his—

Dustin.

That little brat would be at school. Of course. He and others...they were a part of this little cult...maybe they knew what Eddie did to him? Or they could help him at the very least figure out how to reverse this curse.

"Listen son," Wayne continued. "I know it's hard to do this all over again; I told you that you didn't—"

"No, it's ok," Steve quickly cut him off. "I just slept in...accidentally. I'll go. I'm late but I'll go."

"Alright, whatever you say. I got a fresh pot going for you but I'm gonna get cleaned up and hit the hay alright?"

"Sounds good," Steve replied absentmindedly, staring around the room trying to figure out what, in all of the piles of clothing and junk, he could wear.

"Steve Harrington."

Eddie rummaged through the products in the medicine cabinet. Shampoos and after shaves and hair gels and mousses. Way more interesting and expensive sounding than the bottom shelf stuff he got at Melvald's.

He had to be honest, some of it didn't smell great and he didn't see the appeal. Oh well.

"The name's Harrington, Steve Harrington."

He shuffled through the clothes in the closet and the dressed. A lot of trendy, Sears catalog-looking stuff. Polos and windbreakers and jeans in various shades of blue. All neatly hung and folded, nothing out of place, even the underwear drawer was pristine. Nothing black or ripped or...god forbid a band tee or something like that.

Eddie was gonna have to change that...eventually.

"Hey, uh, have we met before? I'm Steve, Steve Harrington."

After the initial shock of finding that he was, indeed, in Steve's body, a sort-of calmness washed over Eddie. The panic subsided pretty quickly, to be honest; he might have been full of electric, frantic energy that dared to be contained, but he was also very good at improvising and devising a plan thanks to years of DnD.

But what was the plan when you found yourself in someone else's body? There wasn't really a handbook for that but like any good player...he would just have to play the part until the answers were revealed to him. And that meant he would have to become Steve Harrington--know Steve Harrington--in a way that he would have loathed if he wasn't in this situation specifically.

The first step had been checking out what Steve was packing.

Eddie peeled away the tight purple briefs and stared at his dick.

"Alright Harrington, alright," Eddie bobbed his head from side to side in contemplation and then grinned ferally. "Mine's bigger." And with that he adjusted himself back in the underwear and continued on his exploration.

Clothes, shoes, books—or more accurately the lack thereof.

Jesus, how have I failed twice and he graduated?

He dug through drawers, found the stash of dirty magazines under the bed, and then scanned over the calendar neatly pinned above the desk with shifts at Family Video clearly penciled-in in a handwriting that looked way too nice to be Steve's.

Steve would be expected to open the store this morning and Eddie grimaced. It wasn't exactly how he wanted to spend his day, but he had a part to play.

He grabbed the little green and orange vest hanging off the back of the desk chair and threw it on over the trendy striped polo that made him itch—did Steve have some kind of allergy or something? God, his chest and arms were just itchy, and it was driving Eddie nuts.

He headed downstairs, through the immaculate house that he vaguely knew the layout of having dealt at a party Steve held last year, to the kitchen to rummage for some kind of breakfast.

He had already checked upstairs and now again as he walked through; the house was empty. Steve's parents gone for the day.

Eddie rolled his eyes as he opened the fridge and found, among the very neat and plentiful groceries, a brown paper lunch bag with the name "Stevie" written on it with a little heart.

"Great," Eddie scoffed bitterly, the first really sour thought he’d had all morning. "His mommy still makes his lunches."

Eddie thought about the handwriting on the calendar upstairs; it was the same as the lunch bag. Thought about the neatly folded clothes, about the extremely tidy rooms. He knew Steve's mom didn't work; she didn't do much of anything except parade around town flaunting her perfect life.

And she was a real bitch.

She was on the Hawkins Town Council and the PTA. She was the first person to call Hellfire Club a cult when they had originally petitioned for some money from the PTA for shirts a few years back. She had called Eddie a menace too many times to count, periodically to his face if he parked a little too close to the front to her liking at Bradley's.

"And she makes her precious baby boy Stevie tuna salad sandwiches and ants on a log like he's 6," Eddie grumbled as he peeked inside the bag. He couldn't remember the last time someone made his lunch for him.

Well he could...in those early days with Wayne. They were both trying to navigate the new living arrangement after his mom had passed. He wasn't that great at peanut butter and jelly or carrot sticks...but he did teach Eddie that you could put potato chips inside of your sandwich though. Taught him how to make the best of a situation, to take care of himself.

So that's what he was going to do. He was gonna make the best out of this situation and play the part and get through the day. Because things were always good—life was always good—if you were Steve Harrington. And he was Steve Harrington now.

"And Steve Harrington," Eddie pushed past the bitterness and found a little spark of goodness. "Drives a BMW."

"Watch where you're going freak!" Someone grunted at Steve as they rammed their shoulder into his as they passed.

"When did everyone get so damn rude?" Steve grumbled to himself. It was the fifth person who had done that today. Hawkins High really had gone to the pits in the past few months since he graduated.

To be fair, everything had really sucked for him so far that day. He thought, Hawkins High was his stomping ground. Just put on the Harrington charm—despite the rough exterior—and everything would work out.

He was so wrong.

First he had gotten detention for being late to class, apparently for the third day that week—

God, Munson needed to get his act together; no wonder he hadn't graduated yet.

—then when he had tried to schmooze Mrs. Worth, the school secretary, into giving him Dustin's schedule, she laughed. And when he asked if he could have a copy of his own schedule, Eddie's schedule, she had just rolled her eyes and said,

"Trying every trick in the book to get out of classes, Edward. I can't help you unless you help yourself."

"How can I help myself if I don't have a schedule Jeanine?" he snarked, figuring Eddie's own signature shitty attitude would get him somewhere instead.

It only added an extra 15 minutes onto his detention.

Great.

Finally he managed to find the crumbled scrap of a class schedule in Eddie's locker—the only locker without a lock on it although he doubted anyone would want to steal from this absolute cesspit—amongst the piles of incomplete homework and garbage and overdue library books. It took everything in Steve not to rip it to pieces when he saw archaic symbols drawn all over it, no doubt another curse Eddie was waiting to enact on someone.

Steve just went through the motions and still got picked on and berated by every teacher and most of the students. Of course, Eddie fucking deserved everything he got. He was a lazy student and a menace, always causing some kind of trouble. But it made Steve especially grumbly that he would now have to deal with the fallout of Eddie's shit. Despite trying to adapt his own good behavior.

"Just gotta find Henderson and this will all have been some silly dream," Steve muttered to himself all day. And thankfully he had survived until lunch and immediately spotted Dustin and Mike as they sat down at the freaks' usual lunch table.

God he needed to get those kids away from Munson and his cult. Especially now that he knew what they could do.

He quickly crossed the busy cafeteria, uncaring of anyone he bumped into or the sharp words they spat at him.

"Henderson, we need to have a little chat," Steve announced as he reached the table. One of the older kids at the table—Steve tried to recall his name: Gary, Garth, Garrett—perked up at the sight of "Eddie" though and started chatting excitedly.

"Hey we were just talking about Hellfire tonight. I know you won't tell us anything but do we ne—”

"Hellfire's canceled," Steve dismissed coldly.

"What?!" They all started talking over one another.

"You never cancel Hellfire."

"Are you sick?"

"Guys he's dying. Or he's lost his mind."

Steve felt the annoyance bubble up inside of him and he raised his voice.

"It's canceled!" He leveled all of them with a scathing look. "I've got detention. Alright?"

"You always have detention," Mike spoke up, then cowered slightly as Steve glared at him. "Y-you've never canceled before..."

"Tough shit. Maybe next week." Steve turned his attention back to Dustin. "Let's go."

He grabbed Dustin by the arm, hauled him out of his seat, and pulled him out of the cafeteria.

As soon as the heavy double doors clicked shut behind them, Steve fell back against the wall and buried his face in his hands.

"Shit! Eddie!" Dustin's demeanor immediately went from fear to concern. "What's going on?"

"'m not Eddie," Steve groaned.

"What?"

"I'm not Eddie!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands out as if it would reveal who he actually was. "It's Steve, I'm Steve."

"O-ok?"

"I'm Steve and I woke up in Eddie's body and I don't know what's happening and I'm..." He started breathing heavily. "I'm so fucking pissed off and I'm so fucking scared."

"Hey listen man, I know," Dustin began hesitantly. "I know you keep telling us that the weed is not for freshman but if this is supposed to scare me—"

"This isn't to scare you," Steve grumbled, grabbing Dustin by the shoulders so he could pull him closer. "I'm not high. And I'm not Eddie. I'm Steve Harrington."

Dustin blinked at him.

"Ok..." he nodded slowly. "You're Steve Harrington? Tell me something only Steve and I would know."

Steve wracked his brain; there were a lot of things that he and Dustin shared, he was closer to Dustin than all of the other kids. But now, so was Eddie...so what was something that Eddie wouldn't know?

"Last year...last December..."

"Yeah?"

"The Snow Ball?"

"Ok?"

"I helped you with your hair...I told you my secret."

"Which was?"

Steve and Dustin stared each other down for a moment before Steve caved.

"Thefarrahfawcettspray," he muttered.

"What was that?"

"The Farrah Fawcett Spray, alright? I swore you to secrecy, I wouldn't tell anyone else, let alone Eddie Munson." He clenched his hands into fists and gritted his teeth.

"Son of a bitch!" Dustin hissed. "It really is you."

"I told you so, you little punk."

"What did...I mean..." Dustin clutched the bill of his cap with both hands and exhaled. "How?"

"I was hoping you could help me figure that out," Steve sighed. "And how to undo it."

"I think this is a little beyond my academic ability Steve."

"No, not just because you're smart. Because you hang around Munson. He's the one who did this to me."

"Wh-what?" Steve started talking a mile a minute and Dustin stopped him. "Ok, slow down. I'm gonna need you to start over. If you want me to help you, I need to know everything."

Steve spent the rest of lunch explaining everything to Dustin, from the interaction with Eddie at Family Video to feeling off last night during dinner and then waking up in Eddie's body this morning.

Dustin asked, what seemed to be, random questions. Like if he had remembered brushing his teeth the night before, if he’d had any indigestion, or if there were any scars that he had as Steve that might have appeared on "Eddie's" body instead.

"I wasn't exactly eager to check Eddie's body out," Steve scrunched his nose in dismissal.

"You didn't even take a shower or anything?" Dustin asked.

"I mean, no," Steve shrugged. "But now that I think of it...how am I gonna even be able to take a shower. Ugh, I don't want to touch Eddie's junk."

"Your junk," Dustin reminded him.

"Eddie's body," Steve insisted.

"And you're Eddie for the foreseeable future," Dustin shrugged. The bell signaling the end of the period rang and Dustin sighed. "Listen, I'm gonna skip next period and see if the school library has anything useful. But I'm not hopeful."

"Hey, you shouldn't skip class!" Steve argued.

"It's just Latin."

"Which you're failing."

"Skipping one class while you've literally had your mind transplanted into another body over night seems like the correct choice. I'll see you later." Dustin disappeared amongst the throngs of students and Steve sighed, resigned to go through the motions for the rest of the day.

It was a lot more of the same shit he'd gone through in the morning: getting body checked in the hall, having his books slapped out of his hand, teachers purposefully calling on him thinking he wasn't paying attention—even though he was, thank you very much. Although...considering that Eddie's notebooks were filled with doodles and poetry and shit...it wasn't a far stretch to believe that no, Eddie didn't actually pay any attention in class.

Steve actually had never had any classes with Eddie except for PE, really. And the fact that Eddie got into constant arguments with Coach should have been enough of an indicator of his poor academic performance as it was. But he’d based all of his assumptions on other factors. They hadn’t really interacted short of seeing him roaming the halls, the many few times Steve and his friends had mocked the Hellfire kids, even the one or two times Steve had gone up to Eddie himself to coerce him into dealing at a party.

He had always thought of Eddie as a thorn in everyone's side...but now being Eddie...

The bell rang signaling the end of the day and although Steve knew he had to get to the cafeteria for detention, he still went to find Dustin and see if he had any answers.

It wasn't a long search, Dustin was waiting by Eddie's locker looking...incredibly nervous.

"Anything?" Steve asked.

"The school library isn't well-stocked with occult books," Dustin sighed. "Best I could find was this, Mysteries of the Unknown, which I'm gonna read, I just don't think it's gonna help us out very much."

Steve groaned and covered his face with his hands.

This was just great.

“Listen, I’m gonna level with you this is…kind of outside of my expertise here Steve,” Dustin said hesitantly.

“But what about the cult stuff,” Steve asked, throwing his hands out. “You spend every Friday with Hellfire Club.”

“Playing a board game,” Dustin defended. “One that you could have learned by now if you just—”

“You’re telling me there aren’t any spells or...or something that could do this in your little game?"

"It's Dungeons and Dragons. Not Jumanji."

"...does that game maybe have a spell that—"

"No!"

"Well what about all of this shit Eddie has drawn in his notebooks, huh?" Steve fumbled to flip to one of the pages that had little symbols drawn in the corner. "What is this?"

"Probably something for a campaign. Maybe you should ask Eddie?" Steve froze and Dustin frowned. "You...have talked to Eddie about this right? You didn't just...come to school...without talking to Eddie, did you?"

Steve felt like an idiot. Of course Eddie would be in his body if he was in Eddie's. Eddie didn't just...banish Steve...he put a curse on both of them.

"Dustin Henderson, you are a genius." Steve pressed a kiss to Dustin's head, turned on his heel, and ran towards the door. Detention be damned.

"I'm not a genius, you're just an idiot!"

For all of the fears Eddie had about growing up—finally graduating, deciding if he should take some classes at the community college like the guidance counselor suggested ages ago, having to get a job or really throwing everything he had into making Corroded Coffin successful—he was honestly having a good time working at Family Video.

Steve always seemed a little bored and grumpy every time Eddie had stopped in. But it wasn't that bad if Eddie was being honest.

He'd been a little frantic at first, trying to figure out which key unlocked the door, and how to turn on the computer and open the cash register—thankfully there were little handwritten instructions taped under the keyboard—but once everything was up and running, it was a good time. He got to put a movie on—Star Wars, duh—easily chatted with some of the apparent-regulars who came by to make returns, even processed shipments of some new releases. It was a blast.

Eddie vaguely wondered, whenever he found himself back in his own body, if he should apply for a job here.

The bell above the door rang and Eddie turned, expecting to greet customers, only to be met with a fuming Robin Buckley.

Eddie didn’t know Robin very well, but what he did know he respected, if not outright liked. During his first senior year, she and a group of band nerds had gone up against Corroded Coffin in the last round of the Hawkins High Battle of the Bands. Now, he knew that the whole competition was rigged—Corroded Coffin had gotten second place despite being the best metal band in town—but she was pretty cool to shake their hands after the event was over. Tell them how good they were.

Of course, her band did a cover of "We Will Rock You" and "We are the Champions." Kind of cheating if you'd asked Eddie...but they did a pretty good job of it. He couldn't fault the student body for choosing that over the alleged Devil Worship music.

However, gone was the bashful Robin in his memory, and instead there she stood seemingly gearing up for a fight, with her sleeves rolled up and teeth gnashing together as she sneered.

"Forget something today dingus?" Robin asked "Steve" through clenched teeth.

"Uhhh," Eddie fumbled. "I don't kn—"

"Me! You forgot to pick me up for school," Robin exclaimed, hands thrown up in the air in exasperation. "You didn't even call? What gives?"

"I, uh," Eddie wracks his brain for an excuse. Because he didn't know he needed to? Because he wasn't actually Steve? "I accidentally overslept."

"And then I was worried about you," Robin rambled, running a hand through her bangs as she went on. "You could have...crashed into a pole, or...or...had a stroke and drove into a ditch."

"I'm sorry," Eddie offered with a half-smile.

"You better be! And your alarm better be set on Monday; I am not walking to school again," Robin grumbled as she headed to the back room to clock in. Eddie sighed in relief as the door shut behind her.

He really did feel bad about not picking her up for school. His friends were used to him skipping or just...sleeping late. If he wasn't at their houses to pick them up by a certain time, they knew they'd have to find another ride. Or just walk.

Gareth's mom was usually nice enough to give them rides on the days when Eddie didn't show.

But Robin...well, shit, Eddie knew Steve and Robin worked together...not only here but at Scoops Ahoy before this but damn, he didn't know Harrington was driving her to school. He must have been really good about picking her up every day if she was mad and worried.

"—and the thing is that I worried all day for nothing." Robin continued as she walked back onto the shop floor. "What if he's dead? What if his parents don't know? I think I failed my algebra test because of you so...just call next time ok?" She stared at him expectantly.

"Ok, I will," Eddie nodded. But Robin just narrowed her eyes at him and folded her arms across her chest. "What?"

"What do you mean what?" she asked. "What are you still standing there for? It's almost 4."

"Oh!" Eddie checked his watch. "Is it? I guess...my shift is over right?"

She stared at him with a dumbfounded expression and then slammed her hands on the counter, making him jump.

"This is why you're single, this is why you can't find a girlfriend," she whined. "I don't even feel bad for you anymore. Not when you're screwing it up every step of the way. I really thought you were gonna get it right this time."

What was she talking about?

"How could you forget!?"

And in spectacular timing that Eddie could only have expected in a movie, the clock struck 4, the bell rang as the door opened, and you walked in for your date with Steve.

You were nervous.

Of course you were nervous, this was your third date with Steve Harrington. Steve Harrington. You sort of still didn't believe that he had asked you out.

You didn’t believe you were still going out with him.

It was just a random night that you'd run into Family Video to grab a movie before they closed. How easily he bantered with you, how he made you laugh, how he suggested Sixteen Candles of all movies for your study night with the girls from your classes at the Tri-County Community College.

He had made a joke when he looked up your mom’s membership…if the number on file was up-to-date so he could inform you of new releases…or just to ask you out.

You had giggled so stupidly after you left. He had called that night.

You'd always been sort of afraid of him during school. He was cute, sure, charming when he wanted to be...but he was popular and a jock and kind of a douche. You’d seen him pick on countless nerds.

He was King Steve, The "Hair" Harrington, whose dad owned the car dealership and had even run for Mayor once and was expected to run again. And you...you didn't have confidence issues really, but there wasn't anything really special about you either. You'd always held out hope that your silly high school crush would ask you out, so you never accepted any of the offers you had from any other boys.

But he never ended up asking you out, no matter how many signals you gave him, how much time you spent with him. How you wore the cutest outfits if you knew you’d partner with him in class.

And shy of some random drunken makeouts and one unfortunate hookup at some stupid party to get your first time “out of the way” (according to Julie Williams)…you stayed single.

Now you were out of the dregs of the high school hierarchy, sure, but you never expected Steve to ask you out. You weren't popular by any means...

But neither was Nancy Wheeler before Steve dated her.

Nancy Wheeler, Nancy Wheeler, Nancy Wheeler.

You couldn't get the name out of your head. Or more accurately, you couldn't get Steve saying her name out of your head. You hadn't even heard of her until they had started dating in your junior year; she was a year younger than you and Steve. Sweet, a little timid maybe. You thought they were cute together, always kind of near each other. Holding hands or kissing or laughing.

Nancy stood in the spotlight with Steve, and they spent enough time for him to become nicer and for her to become more confident. Confident enough to dump him about halfway through your senior year.

Rumors were afloat about King Steve losing his crown. That the new kid Billy Hargrove had taken it when the king was down on his luck. But Billy was an even bigger douchebag and you'd thought...well, Steve was the big man on campus, he would bounce back right? Surely once you graduated at least? He’d find his footing and move on?

And you thought he had. He’d stayed in town, gotten a job, went about his life like it was normal. Still drove around and charmed the town, asking girls out and whatnot. Asking you out.

Imagine your surprise when he mentioned Nancy on your first date. Coffee at that little bakery in the town square; he had ordered for you before you got there and you asked if it was his favorite or something.

"Well Nance always liked it so I figured you might."

And then again at the movies, he'd ordered you a cherry coke and Mike and Ikes. No popcorn.

"Nancy always complained about the kernels getting stuck in her teeth."

You were patient and you tried to be nice. But it created this constant, subconscious comparison to her that hit you every time you saw her around town. And she was always around.

And Steve…tried, he made sure the dates were nice, he called on the phone, asked you about your day, told you about his. You just knew you couldn’t…allow yourself to feel less than, even if Steve didn’t realize he was doing it to you.

So you decided you were gonna end things.

You'd gone to Family Video to tell him as much, to have a nice discussion, before heading to your shift at Benny's. But he was very sweet, unexpectedly so. Promised your third date would be something special. You'd both dress up. He'd take you out to dinner somewhere nice.

"You're gonna love this place," Steve had said, taking your hand in his. "Nance thought it was great when I took her there too."

Nancy Wheeler, Nancy Wheeler, Nancy Wheeler.

And at that moment you decided to just pull your hand away and tell him "I'm sorry Steve" and "you can’t keep bringing her up, it’s over."

Until you caught sight of Eddie Munson at the corner of your eye.

Your high school crush.

Who was funny and clever and silly and handsome and more. Who was everything you could kind of ever dream of. Who you got into a fight with your best friend over because she thought she had dibs since her brother was his friend. Whose name you scribbled in your notebook and almost died the one time he flipped through to copy your notes.

Who never saw you as more than a classmate.

And you decided...even if you were tired of playing second fiddle to Nancy…you had spent enough time waiting to be noticed by Eddie. All of high school and, you were ashamed to say it, even now after the fact.

You couldn’t do this anymore. Couldn’t pass upon another boy who actually noticed you just to keep waiting on Eddie.

So you told Steve that his idea was great and you went on your merry way.

You had convinced yourself that it could work out, that you could be Steve’s girlfriend if he asked, if he kissed you at the end of the night. You'd dressed up to go to class today, knowing that you wouldn't have time to change for the date after. Your friends had teased you about your date, about the fluffy tafetta dress you'd chosen, giggled along with you and inflated your confidence.

It was still a little bit of a shock when you walked into Family Video promptly at 4 only to find Robin standing in front of the counter with the most pitying, sympathetic look in her eyes. And Steve still behind it, looking like a deer in the headlights, still dressed in his casual work clothes, hair slightly disheveled.

Not prepared for your date at all.

Did he forget?

You shouldn’t have felt bad, really. You were meeting him after his shift. You knew that you didn’t always look or feel great after work. You should have given him the benefit of the doubt.

Or did he change his mind?

Because he talked the talk yesterday and you fell for it. You let your pride get the better of you and you should have just followed your instinct to end things.

That insidious voice in the back of your mind though…

Nancy Wheeler, Nancy Wheeler, Nancy Wheeler.

…told you that he realized you weren’t good enough.

"H-hey," you greeted sheepishly. Your throat got tight

“Say hi dumbass,” Robin muttered over her shoulder. “Steve was just telling me how excited he was for your date!”

“Really?”

And then…it felt like Steve was suddenly seeing you for the first time. Because Steve Harrington just had a way about him, right?. That cool, casual exterior. That easiness.

Looking at him now…his eyes were wider and brighter, his smile bigger, eager. It was a version of him that you hadn’t experienced.

Was this maybe what Nancy Wheeler saw when she looked at him…looking at her?

And now he was looking at you this way.

"I...I'm not late am I? Or too early maybe?" you asked, suddenly bashful under his gaze.

“No,” Steve shook his head. “You’re perfect.”

“Gross,” Robin gagged. “Ok get out of here before I vomit.”

Steve practically vaulted over the counter and disappeared into the back for a moment, then situated himself at your side upon his return.

“You ready to go?” He asked eagerly. You raised your eyebrows in question and glanced down at his outfit, still dressed the same, still wearing his Family Video vest even.

“Oh you…” you started and then stopped when his smile got even brighter. “Yeah let’s go.”

You were barely out the door when a familiar van skidded into the parking lot and came to a halt in the spot next to your car. Eddie jumped out of the driver's seat and slammed the door, before pointing at Steve with a manic look in his eyes.

“You!” Eddie shouted. “What did you do? How did you do this!?”

You immediately turned to Steve, whose eyes went wide for a moment before he smiled lazily, almost condescendingly.

“Me? I didn’t do anything,” Steve announced, holding his hands up innocently.

“I know you’re in there Eddie, you son of a bitch,” Eddie grumbled and practically lunged at Steve. Steve jumped a few steps back and you got between the two of them, hoping your presence would put Eddie at ease.

Wait…

Did he call Steve…Eddie? Did he call Steve by…his own name?

Was he high or something? You tried to rationalize it: The anger, the manic look in his eyes, the way his shoulders shook as he breathed heavily. It only made sense.

“Hey look at me,” you said gently. “It’s gonna be ok, you need to take a deep breath and calm down. You’re gonna be ok.”

“Stay out of this honey,” Eddie said through clenched teeth. “This is between me and him.”

“Steve, what’s going on?” You glance back at him for an answer.

“Nothi—” Steve began but Eddie quickly spoke over him.

“He put a curse on me, he put a curse on us,” Eddie heaved.

A curse?

“M-maybe you need a doctor or something,” you tried. “You aren’t making any sense.”

”He doesn’t need a doctor,” Steve called from behind you. “He’s a freak, a criminal. He needs to be locked up.”

Eddie froze and looked between you and Steve, fear suddenly in his eyes.

“Steve are you crazy?!” You turned and hissed at him, but by the time you turned back to Eddie, he was backing away and retreating into the van.

“This isn’t over,” he threatened, pointing at Steve through the window. “You’re gonna fix this.”

“Eddie wait!” The van backed out of its spot and sped back out of the parking lot. You sighed with worry. “Eddie.”

“Sweetheart,” Steve casually put a hand on your shoulder “Don’t worry about him.”

You turned on your heel and slapped his hand off you.

“What the hell is wrong with you!?”

Eddie played the part perfectly...

"What the hell is wrong with you!?"

...or so he thought.

While he would never call anyone else a freak, standing and staring at his own face--despite the realization that Steve was in there--it was almost cathartic to yell those things at himself. To get a feel of what everyone else felt when they yelled those things at him. To not be on the receiving end of it for once.

Except you didn't seem to see it that way.

While Eddie had felt like he had hit the jackpot all day, being in Steve's body, he knew that he really came out ahead when you showed up for your date with him. The thought briefly crossed his mind...if he broke your heart as Steve...it might be a better chance for him to ask you out and for you to say yes.

But considering that he might possibly spend the rest of his life as Steve Harrington...having you was too good of a chance to pass up.

He would rather have you as Steve, knowing you would never care for him as Eddie, than lose you altogether.

Except that might be exactly what he had done as you stood there glaring at him.

"W-what?" He asked nervously.

"Are you kidding me right now?" you exclaimed. "He...there was clearly something wrong with him. How could you say those things? How could you call him those names? And then he...he left...what if he gets hurt?"

"What do you care about Eddie Munson?" he scoffed.

"He's my friend!"

Fuck.

Hearing that made his heart ache in his chest. He was a friend. Yeah. Just a friend. Which is why...if he wanted to salvage this, he would have to think quickly.

"I just...you're right," he explained, holding his hands out defensively. "He looked like...there was something wrong. And you were so quick to jump in the way...what if he hurt you?"

"He wouldn't!"

"I was worried."

"He wouldn't have hurt me."

"Listen to me," he soothed and approached you carefully in case you lashed out again. "I...I care about you, honey. I don't want to see you hurt. And Eddie...definitely looked like he was ready to hurt someone. I needed to get him away from you."

You gnawed at your bottom lip for a moment, pulling at your fingers nervously as you contemplated his excuse.

"Alright," you finally nodded. "I understand."

"You do?" he asked.

"Yeah," you sighed. "But please...please don't do that again. Don't call Eddie a freak. He's my friend and he deserves better than that."

Eddie's throat got tight, wanting to scream--

It's me. I'm Eddie. I'm in here.

--instead he took a few steps closer and folded you into a hug. You shook for a second, and god damn did he feel like he was on the verge of shaking too.

He needed a distraction.

"So...how about that date huh?" He questioned after a few moments of savoring the feel of you in his arms. "You ready to go."

"Sure," you pulled back and gave him a small smile. "Where are we going?"

Eddie, of course, had no idea where Steve had planned to take you. His mommy didn't mark dates in his calendar like she did his work schedule. So he simply decided to make something up on the spot. One of his favorite places.

He simply told you it was a surprise and led you to Steve's BMW, opening the door for you like a gentleman should, before he got you both on the way.

His fingers fidgeted on the steering wheel as he drove. He debated asking you questions, but decided against it on the off chance that they were things Steve had already on your first two dates. And the music that Steve had in the car was abysmal and wouldn't do anything to calm Eddie's nerves.

You seemed content to stare out the window as he drove though, still fidgeting with your fingers as the drab scenery passed by once he got onto old highway 77.

A few miles past Starcourt sat "Stoney Creek Adventure Center," boasting a halfway decent arcade and two miniature golf courses. With all of the new amusements in and around Hawkins, it wasn't as busy as it was the few times his mom and Rick had taken him when he was a kid. But it was still pretty lively on a Friday night: some families with younger kids, a couple of teens who snuck into the windmill to get high and make out.

Eddie escorted you out of the car and watched as you stared at the half-faded turf and oversized obstacles.

"So?" he asked, hands on his hips. "What do you think?"

Your hesitation to answer made his throat tight again.

What if this wasn't a Steve Harrington-calibur date?

"Uh..." you paused and looked at him out of the corner of your eye. "This is the place you took Nancy Wheeler? You said...you were taking me someplace she really liked."

Alright, time to make it or break it.

"I just thought you might like something different," he shrugged. "I thought...I've been bringing up Nancy a little too much. I want to enjoy new things. With you."

The way your gaze softened and you smiled at him...yeah, he was really fixing all of Harrington's fuck-ups. Give you everything you deserved.

"Oh, that's...yeah, that's really sweet," you giggled. "I...I didn't want to say anything...I know she was important to you. But I was actually starting to feel like--"

"Hey, listen," he interrupted you, knowing what you were going to say next...feeling a little smug that he was right. "The past is the past. I'm sorry I made you feel like you were playing second fiddle to Nancy."

"You really did," you confirmed.

"But I really like you," Eddie admitted, feeling a weight lift off of his shoulders as the words escaped him. Even though the voice he said them with was not his own. "I want you to feel important too. Ok?"

"Ok," you agreed, lips pursed and nose scrunched as you obviously fought a smile.

"Alright then, let's get to putting," he clapped his hands together and started walking towards the arcade to pay for your rounds of golf.

He stopped, however, as you grabbed him by the arm.

"Don't you think I'm a little overdressed?" you asked bashfully, gesturing down at yourself. "You told me we were going someplace nice."

He placed a hand over his heart and acted wounded.

"You're saying mini golf isn't nice?" he whimpered.

"No, it's perfect, I just..." you shrugged. "I don't know, I think...I don't even have a jacket or anything."

"Well tell you what," he said and peeled his Family Video vest from his shoulders. "As long as you don't tell Keith that I made you a temporary employee for the night--that's what this means you know, so don't take it lightly--you can wear my vest."

You didn't fight the smile this time, it beamed brightly in the golden afternoon light. You put the vest on and did a little turn, modeling it for him, looking slightly ridiculous with your fancy dress and the stupid green and orange vest.

What Eddie wouldn't have done right then to have his battle vest instead right then. To make you look like you were his girl and not Steve's.

"Beautiful," he told you truthfully. "Now you ready to lose? I happen to be a mini golf champion."

"In your dreams," you scoffed.

No...not in his dreams anymore...

At the end of the night, well past it getting dark, Steve drove you back to the strip mall parking lot for you to get your car and head home. But it felt no less romantic than it would have been if he was actually dropping you off at home and you were chatting on your porch before you went inside.

“I really did have a great time tonight,” you told him honestly. It felt like a cliché, like something from a tv show. But...despite the rocky start, you did have a great time and it was absolutely nothing you expected from Steve of all people, especially not after those first two dates. After all of the things you had doubted.

You had played both of the miniature golf courses, sat at the little picnic benches and shared a basket of half-soggy fries with ice cream cones--yours strawberry, his a chocolate-vanilla swirl--and chatted about your classes, and then ended the night beating the high score on Space Invaders.

Maybe things were looking up after all. Maybe you were right to give him this last chance.

“It was kind of perfect," you continued. "Thank you.”

“Well, what can I say?” Steve beamed. “I’m full of good ideas, when I’m inspired to have them.”

“And I, um, inspired you?” You asked hesitantly.

“You have no idea,” he laughed. “You wouldn’t even believe what was going on in here even if I told you.” He tapped his forehead a few times.

You reached up and rapped your knuckles on the side of his head the way you would a watermelon to see if it was ripe.

“I dunno, sounds kind of hollow to me—Steve!!” He grabbed you around the middle and started tickling you. You yelped and giggled as his fingers relentlessly tapped and pinched at your sides. “Stop it.”

“Sorry, honey, I told you I was full of ideas,” he pouted playfully but didn’t let up. “You just looked awful ticklish; it inspired me.”

“I can’t,” you laughed. “I can’t breathe.”

“I guess I can stop,” Steve sighed, the tickling letting up for a moment. His hands stilled on your waist as you caught your breath and he inched closer. “I think I’m inspired by something else now, to be completely honest with you.”

And then he did a thing--something he had been doing all night--he was looking at you like he couldn’t really believe you were there with him. His eyes were sparkling and happy. His smile wasn’t the…signature smooth Harrington smile that you’d grown accustomed to the last few dates. It was wider, easier.

“Y-yeah?” You whispered. “What’s that?”

He leaned in closer, rubbed his nose against yours. Your eyes fluttered shut and you exhaled softly.

"C-can I," he whispered, soft enough that you could barely hear him. "Can I kiss you, honey?"

"Y-yeah," you agreed just as softly. He hummed but didn't make another move, choosing to continue giving you such soft attention. It made your heart melt.

"You sure?"

"Please," you keened.

He let out a soft chuckle and pressed his lips to yours and you sighed.

If was all of the tender softness you deserved, but never knew in the fast, hormone-and-alcohol driven kisses you had experienced in high school. However few. You were simply surrounded by him.

His touch--his soft lips molding to yours, pressing, and his hands on your waist, pulling--constant and pleading for more but never pushing. His scent that invaded your senses--sharp and citrusy and fresh, like a summer's day. His sounds, that simple...constant little hum as the seconds ticked by.

He was everywhere and everything.

But...

You thought about Eddie earlier that day, the striking, wild look in his eye. So different from the Eddie you were used to, the Eddie you cared about, the Eddie your heart beat for over the past 5 years. You were worried about him, yes, but one thought occupied your mind.

How would Eddie have kissed you?

Your heart stung when Steve pulled away and you blinked back the burning in the back of your eyes.

You couldn't entertain those thoughts, not when Steve was standing right in front of you, after he had just kissed you so perfectly, and looked at you as if you were the only thing that could ever make him happy.

“G’night honey,” he murmured.

“Goodnight,” you whispered guiltily. "Goodnight Steve."

Eddie made it back to the Harrington's house with a big smile on his face.

He could do this forever if he had to.

Live in Steve's body, go to work at Steve's job, drive Steve's car, kiss Steve's girlfriend.

He'd been partially wondering on his drive back to the house--

Between the long, sweet moments of recalling your kiss.

--if this was, perhaps, some kind of karmic reward for all of the shit life had handed to him. A terrible father, a dead mother, a short attention span, and the entire town voicing their opinion that he was some dirty, rotten, trailer park freak. And then on the contrary, Steve--who had been given everything he never asked for and was an ungrateful shit--could have some karma as well.

As he made it up the stairs--the stairs, Eddie still couldn't believe it--to his new bedroom, Eddie thought about Wayne and did feel a little guilt. He definitely suffered just as Eddie did, maybe more so, simply for the fact that he had to put up with Eddie for 10 years and now would have to put up with Steve too. Eddie's stomach turned when he thought of all the things he did just to take something off Wayne's plate. Repairs around the trailer, grocery shopping and "making dinner" (which was usually code for some kind of takeout when he was too lazy to pop some frozen pizza in the oven). Not to mention the extra cash he made dealing...would Steve do those things now that they were stuck like this?

Where was Wayne's karmic reward?

There were so many things Wayne sacrificed for Eddie. And Eddie knew and did everything he could to give back to his uncle, as much as his uncle would let him. Now with this situation with Steve, he had to do a little more to lift what would end up being an additional weight off of his uncle's shoulders.

Maybe...

Maybe "Steve" could convince Mr. Harrington to offer Wayne some better, cushier job at the car dealership? So he wouldn't have to suffer as much as he did at the plant. He definitely deserved more, but this was the first thing Eddie could think of off the top of his head. After a few months it might be a new car, or some...help with a down payment on an actual house...or at the very least, a larger trailer so that he could have his own bedroom instead of that fold-out bed.

Yeah, that was it. He would think about how he would bring it up next time he saw good ol' Pa Harrington...but since the house was still empty almost 14 hours after Steve's parents apparently left for work that morning, it might not be any time soon...

Eddie opened the door to the bedroom--momentarily dismissing his thoughts of Wayne to consider if he should get some posters to cover the pretentious plaid-papered walls--only to find the light on and his own face staring back at him, scowling, as Steve sat propped against the headboard of the bed.

Eddie hesitated in the doorway, stunned.

“I told you this wasn't over, Freak."

Fuck.

Tag List: @luna-munson83 @kaitebugg03 @invaderzia1 @delusionalbabe @secretdryrose @eddiesguitarskills @simplyundeniable98 @imaslutforcuddles @hanobe8

#Eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson fic #stranger things fic #Eddie munson imagine #Steve Harrington imagine #Steve harrington fic #Steve harrington x reader #Freaky Friday AU

[bleedingoptimism]

When Eddie is given the order to infiltrate the castle and kill the heir to the throne he doesn't even blink.

It’s just another job. He couldn’t care less if it’s the prince or a tavern keeper, he’s never failed before and he’s not planning on starting now.

Finding work at the castle is easy enough, but getting close to the prince takes longer. Only the most trusted people in the palace are allowed to interact with him. So he only gets to see him, to appreciate him from afar. 

The heir to the throne, Prince Steve, is the most beautiful person he’s ever seen in his life. Handsome and fit but with delicate features, big brown eyes, and a myriad of beauty marks.

He’s keeping a close eye on him so he notices every little thing about him. How kind he is with everyone.

How afraid he is of the king, his father. How he still stands up to him, even if he’s terrified when he is being unfair to the people.

He also notices Steve is a really good fighter, which worries him. He is going to need to get real close to him, enough that the prince could never suspect him, enough to make him keep his guard down.

But as time passes he gets more and more enthralled by the prince. When he hears him laugh as he play-fights with the younger knights he took under his wing it makes his heart stutter.

And when he catches him sneaking into the library with the quirky royal scribe to read late at night it fills him with wonder and curiosity.

And the more he watches Steve, the more he hates his assignment.

He starts having dangerous thoughts. Why would his master send him to kill this wonderful boy? He is so generous, so fair, so brave. He would be a wonderful king. Wouldn’t the people from the kingdom benefit from someone like Steve?

Is he really serving the greater good? Is this really for the good of the kingdom?

But he casts those thoughts away. They serve him no good. It’s not like he has a choice anyway. It’s his head or Steve’s. And he’s rather attached to his head.

So by the time he’s trusted enough to be allowed in the private areas of the palace, by the time he actually gets to talk to the prince, he’s already halfway in love with him and incredibly conflicted.

And Steve, beautiful, wonderful, soft Steve. He warms up to Eddie right away, and he asks about him, his thoughts, and his feelings. And he’s so cute and funny, he laughs at Eddie and with Eddie. He stands up to him in front of the king and lets Eddie sit quietly with him, holding his hand when his father tears him down with harsh words.

They get close, and Eddie starts his mornings dreading this is going to be the last day he gets to spend with Steve, the day he gets the order to end it all. But he ends his nights with a smile on his face because every day with the prince is a delight and he just can’t help but be endeared by everything he does.

And then the day comes. Eddie wakes up to the sight of an ugly, disfigured bat, perched on his window, the thing screeches loudly at him and Eddie yells back, dread and sorrow already invading him because he knows what its presence means. It means it's time.

The bat cocks his ugly head at him and then flies out the same way it came in and leaves Eddie holding his head in his hands, rocking back and forth in the bed. He reminds himself it’s his life or Steve’s and he repeats it as a mantra all day. It’s me or him. It’s me or him. It’s me or him. It’s me or him. It’s me or him.

The night finds them lounging in the library with Robin, the scribe. She’s reading to them from a book of obscure stories from kingdoms past. It’s Steve’s favorite. It’s getting close to midnight when Robin yawns and calls it a night, leaving them alone in the enormous library.

Steve is sitting by the window, one leg bent at the knee and resting his head on it, the other swaying on the edge. Eddie takes a deep breath and thinks, ‘this is it’ 

He slowly makes his way toward Steve and takes a hidden knife out of his belt.

He’s so close now, hand raised, knife shining in the moonlight. And Steve doesn’t move, he just lets him get close. He trusts Eddie. 

It's him.

He can’t do it. He just can’t. He’d rather die than hurt him and it’s that a thought? He’s never felt this way. He would die for him. He should die for him. 

He stops, intending to put the weapon away but it’s too late now. The knife glints and it catches Steve’s eye in the reflection of the window. He turns shocked and hurt fills his eyes before he launches at Eddie.

They fight, and Eddie just tries to defend himself as Steve throws blow after blow at him. But he can tell Steve is not giving it his all.

He’s confused and heartbroken, he fights as tears fall from his big doe eyes and he screams at him and Eddie takes it. He takes everything Steve has to give.

He disarms Eddie at one point because the prince really is that good at fighting and the combat comes to a stall with Steve sitting on his lap and him flat on the floor, a knife at his throat. 

Both of them are panting heavily as Eddie looks at Steve, tears falling from his gorgeous brown eyes and wetting Eddie’s cheek and he knows he’s going to die.

He’ll die, either by Steve’s hand or by his master’s evil creatures so he has nothing to lose when he says,

“Gods, you are so beautiful” and he surges forward, letting the knife scrape his neck and kisses Steve deeply.

Eyes closed he waits for the knife to be buried in his neck but then he hears the distinct sound of the weapon hitting the floor. And suddenly Steve is kissing him back, one hand on his cheek and the other on the cut on his neck. 

But Steve is still crying so Eddie cups his cheeks and wipes the tears away,

“Please stop crying your highness, my love”

And Steve shakes his head and bites Eddie’s lip hard enough to make him bleed. “Why?” he whispers into his mouth.

And Eddie tells him everything, he tells him all about the unbreakable contract with the dark wizard who ordered his death. How he was down on his luck and almost dead and didn't have any other choice.

He tells Steve about watching him from afar before their official meeting, about falling in love with him, and that he was ready to die before hurting him.

“I never wanted to hurt you, I’m so sorry my beloved prince,” he tells him, “But I must leave now, I need to kill my master, I have to save you.”

“I’ll go with you, I’ll help” his love replies.

“Steve, no-” 

“You don’t get to tell me what to do” Steve cuts him off, voice firm and it makes Eddie smile. His prince looks so handsome when he gives him orders.

“Eddie, you make me feel…Alive, I love you. I’m not letting you go alone.”

Eddie implores him to stay, “It’ll be dangerous my adored one, what if I can’t protect you? What if I can’t save you?”

Steve leans forward and touches their foreheads together, “We’ll save each other.” He simply says. 

They run away together the next night.

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #i wrote something