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greetingfromthedead · 2 months

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Vash's Moving Castle (Vash x Reader)

Plot: A strange building made up of old spaceship parts, moving around on two legs across the wasteland of the desert, it hisses and creaks and fills the heart of many with fear... That castle is home to the magnificent tech wizard Vash, infamous for both his gunmanship and for being a womanizer—or so the rumor goes in your city. You're the eldest child of a gunsmith and as such don't expect much from your future. However, your simple life takes a turn for the exciting when you're ensnared in a disturbing situation, and the mysterious tech wizard appears to rescue you.

Pairing: Vash x mostly GN Reader, occasional she/her pronouns, the use of "girl" etc from quotes directly from the movie. I tried making it completely GN, but my flu ridden brain short circuited on some very specific parts so I gave up.

Raiting: Everyone

Tags: Howl's Moving Castle style AU, no use of "y/n", Vash is a tech wizard, I have both brainrot and the flu, idk what else to put here, Howl is cute, Vash is cute, I tried my best.

Word count: 3.7k

Author's Note: Got the idea yesterday, yall seemed interested and the flu ridden brainrot I had to endure all day today was simply debilitating so I wrote a little something. I hope you like it, not sure if I will continue or not even though I have quite a few HC-s for this little AU situation.

The 6th city, May, is decorated more than usual. After all, May Day has arrived. Even though it is still early in the afternoon, the streets are bustling with people. The aroma of baked goods reaches your nose through your open window, and it makes you think about your sister, Meryl, who is working at the very popular doughnut shop on the other side of the city. She must be very busy today with the rush of customers coming in for their celebratory pastries. For you, it's a free day. Today, your little weapon's repair shop, which you inherited from your father, is closed. You decide to take advantage of the downtime and visit your sister, whom you haven't seen in a long time.

You put aside the little handgun you have been tinkering with and stand to close the window. Your little shop is situated quite high, and the workshop has the perfect view to look out over the roofs of all the other houses. Your eyes glance over the familiar sight—the scrappy buildingd made out of old spaceship parts and in the distance, you see the wide open desert. But today it is slightly different. You heard the commotion this morning when the people first noticed the addition to the landscape. With fearful and hushed voices, they talked about the monstrocity looming on the horizon and the kind of calamity it might bring.

"It is Vash's Moving Castle!" The people on the streets whispered and pointed. "Do you think the horrible Typhoon has come to lay waste to our city?"

You knew very well the rumors about the gunslinger and tech wizard named Vash the Stampede. He is said to be a ruthless demon specializing in murder and wide-scale destruction. Apparently, he kills without mercy—men, women, and children alike. He has wiped whole towns from the face of the planet, and his infamous castle is created with the sole purpose of being a weapon of mass destruction.

As you pull the window closed, you look at the mass of metal outside of town. Calling it a castle is a gross overstatement. You can't imagine how such a heap of scrap gets to be called anything so magnificent. It consists of layers upon layers of old spaceship parts, jutting out at odd angles and covered in rust and wires, its massive turrets and spires reaching towards the sky. It has two large legs underneath it, much like a tomas, that the building uses to move across the desert. This is not the first time Vash's fortress has passed by May City, and you think the excitement is unwarranted. Sure, the gunslinger has a reputation, but nothing catastrophic has happened so far. You can't help but wonder why everyone gets so worked up every time the castle passes by; he would surely go to the bank or somewhere else where he can get easy money. You are just a small shop owner; as long as you don't get in his way, it seems unlikely he would take any interest in you. He might be a womanizer, but he only has eyes for pretty girls.

You get quickly ready and close the shop. The streets are decorated with colorful ribbons, and you hear cheers coming from all over town as the annual parade begins. You have chosen a truly awful moment to try and make your way across the city, but you are determined to see Meryl. As you push through the crowded streets, you catch glimpses of the parade. People are showing off their inventions and talents. You see giant hydraulic pants marching down the street. Exo-suits and new kinds of weaponry. On other streets, you see entertainers dancing and singing in colorful costumes. Some are juggling fire, and others are performing daring acrobatics. This world truly is a marvel.

You make it to the gondolas and squeeze into one with some other people. It takes you over the winding roads, and you see the flags and market stalls lining the streets. The smell of freshly cooked food wafts up to you as you take in the sights and sounds of the bustling marketplace. May is filled with all kinds of people; for days, the sandsteamers have brought in travelers from all over, and it shows. The whole city is alive with excitement and energy.

You get off your ride on the slightly calmer side of the town, and you know the familiar route you need to take to get to the doughnut shop. The quiet side streets are nearly empty; just a few people mingle on the sidewalks. You try to avoid them as much as possible and turn to an even smaller ally as a group of drunkards head your way. You hold your breath and hope they don't notice you, looking nervously over your shoulder as you hurry along.

"Hey, it looks like a little mouse lost its way," you suddenly hear, and as you look back ahead, you see you nearly ran into a man who has just come around the corner. He is grinning mischievously, blocking your path. He is a lot taller than you, and you can see his rifle slung across his back. Surely he is a bounty hunter; you see them a lot, and with all the people flowing into town, you would think they have their hands full.

"Oh, no. I'm not lost," you say, shaking your head and recoiling a bit, leaning away from the man.

"This little mouse looks thirsty. We should take her for a cup of tea." The man continues like he didn't hear you at all. You try sidestepping him, but as you do, a second man appears from behind him. He is just as large with a big mustache, and he looks at you curiously as he leans closer, blocking your way further.

"No thanks. My sister's expecting me." You avoid looking directly at them, instead trying to think of a way to escape. They make you very uncomfortable.

"She's pretty cute for a mouse." You try to keep your cool and find a way to politely excuse yourself from the situation, but the mustashed man is leaning even closer, his face level with yours.

"How old are you anyway? You live around here?" The first guy leans toward you too. Neither of them sounds menacing, but they fill you with dread.

"Leave me alone!" you say with as much bravery as you can muster, taking a step backwards.

"You see? Your mustache scares all the girls," the first man nudges his comrade.

"So? I think she's even cuter when she's scared." the other replies, not taking his eyes off you.

"There you are, sweetheart." A different, smooth male voice speaks up behind you, capturing the gaze of the bountyhunters before you. "Sorry, I'm late. I was looking everywhere for you."

He speaks close to your left ear, and a hand gently rests on your right shoulder. It's not a voice you recognize, and his touch makes you stiffen up. Your body had been ready to run for your life, but now you find yourself sandwitched between two unknowns. Yet something about the man behind you is comforting, or maybe it's just that you see the upset glint in the eyes of the men before you.

"Hey! Hey! We're busy here!" The man you had run into first speaks and looks like he is puffing himself up to look more menacing. His companion, too, straightens his back, ready for a violent confrontation.

"Are you really? It looked to me like the two of you were just leaving." The calm voice beside you speaks with a hint of amusement. You feel him shift slightly, but you don't turn your eyes away from the bounty hunters in front of you. You see their gazes move over the man, their eyes widening at something where his left arm would be, and you see them freeze up and then nudge each other. They look very uncomfortable.

"This is not worth it," one of them whispers nervously to the other.

"Yeah, we better get going," the other answers with a whisper, and they start to shuffle away from you, back into the alley they had come from. As they get further away, their step hastens until they take off running. You watch them disappear into the darkness, wondering what caused them to have such a reaction.

"Don't hold it against them," the soft voice next to you says, and you finally turn to look at him. He is a tall young man with a soft smile on his lips. You see his pretty blue eyes behind orange tinted round glasses, and his blonde hair is about shoulder length. A tight golden hoop hangs from his left ear. He is truly very handsome, and his expression is warm and inviting. He wears a pillowy white blouse that flows down to his slender waist. A pendant hangs from his neck, and a red coat covers his shoulders, but his arms are not in the sleeves.

"They aren't actually all that bad," he says, continuing his thought from before, and his eyes capture your gaze again. "Where to? I'll be your escort this evening."

"Oh, I'm, um, just going to the doughnut shop." You pull back a little from his closeness, but feel his hand firmly on your shoulder.

"Don't get alarmed, but I'm being followed," he says, leaning closer to you. His hand moves from your shoulder and instead hooks around your arm. "Act normal."

You avert your eyes, but he ignores your awkwardness completely and starts walking along the street with your arm intertwined with his, like it's totally normal. Your body is still stiff, a slight fear lingering in the back of your mind, yet this is exciliating in a way you never expected. You find yourself surprisingly comfortable in his presence, despite the fact that he is a total stranger. His pace is somewhat brisk, but you can easily keep up. The unknown of who could be following him is a bit frightening, and you find yourself pressing into his upper arm for reassurance.

As you walk past some dark and narrow alleys, you start to suddenly hear commotion.

"There he is! Go! Hurry!" You hear shouting, and it sends a shiver up your spine. Yet the man beside you keeps the same pace and, for the moment, seems unbothered.

"Sorry. It looks like you're involved," he says calmly as you try to glance into the alleys where the commotion stems from. You see a mob of gunslingers squeeze themselves hurriedly into the narrow gap between the buildings and start to rush towards you. It is frightening to you, and you grab a tighter hold of the man's arm. Your right hand grasps his shirt, your heart pounds in fear as your body stiffens. More voices start to echo from up ahead, and a few people stumble onto your street.

"This way!" he whispers insistently, and the man pulls you into a side alley, his pace getting faster as he leads you away from the gathering crowd. You struggle to keep up with him so you have to start running, your mind racing with questions, but you hold onto him tightly, and you feel certain that everything will be alright. He keeps going faster and faster, and you can see the main street ahead, but suddenly your view gets blocked by more armed men appearing to block our path. You feel a surge of panic rising in your chest, and the reassuring hand sliters out from your weakened cluth as you have trouble holding on while you run.

"Come on!" The mystery man's voice is soft and insistent, with a hint of amusement as you feel his arm wrap around your waist, both of you running straight towards the angry looking mob. You see that some of them have drawn their guns and have them pointed straight at you, but the thundering footsteps behind you tell you that they are unlikely to shoot here in this narrow alley to avoid hitting anybody else. Your confidence in getting out of here wavers, but suddenly you are tightly pulled against the man's side, and his other hand takes yours. It feels cold and hard; you catch a glimpse of blue, but you are too distracted by the fact that your feet are no longer on the cobbled street. You rush through the air, seemingly kept up by the mysterious blonde.

Instinctively, you curl up, looking around for an explanation. The coat that covered his shoulders before hangs over his left arm, and from his back protrubes a pair of giant feathery wings. You've never seen anything like this. Is this a new invention? Has he come here to present his masterpiece to the masses during the parade? Who is this man? He has to be a brilliant inventor. Your mind is captivated by him; you want to understand his mysterious contraption, and your gaze moves along him, down his left arm, and you see it's not a real arm at all; it is made out of strange blue metal, the hand holding yours is made out of the same material. The forearm is mostly covered by his coat, but you're sure that everything from at least his elbow down is a prosthesis; the rest is hidden by the flowy sleeve. You feel his fingers move so organically that you're sure this must be lost technology. What a strange man! You've never seen anything like this.

"Now, straighten your legs and hold on tight," you hear the man say gently, and you follow his command. You relax your legs and grab tightly onto him. His strong arm around you presses you into his side, and you wrap your legs with one of his to make sure you cannot slip away from his grasp and plummet to your death.

You are still mesmerized by his wings, how large they are as they stretch out behind him, allowing him to fly effortlessly through the air. You feel a rush of adrenaline as you soar higher. The streets beneath you look so small; people are just specs moving around. You let out a gasp of amazement, and it makes the strange man chuckle. He flies you both over some rooftops, and you see the familiar doughnut shop come into view.

"You're a natural." You hear him praise you, but to you, it makes little sense; all you do is hold onto him for dear life. But you can't deny the exhilarating rush of flying through the sky. You have never felt so free. The wind whips through your hair as you soar above the city. You feel like you could touch the clouds. You relax a little bit in his grasp, hearing his feathers rustle in the wind as they allow you to glide through the air. To your surprise, very few people pay any attention to you. Most of them are too focused on the parade passing by. The ones who did notice you stared in awe, not believing their eyes or perhaps mistaking you for a worm.

You get closer and closer to the familiar shop, and you realize he is aiming for the second floor balcony. He lands gracefully on the bannister and gently guides you onto the floor, like you weigh nothing at all. His hand holds onto yours for a little longer as he bows closer.

"I'll make sure to draw them off, but wait a bit before you head back outside." His voice is low and gentle, with a soft smile dancing on his lips and in the glimmer of his eyes.

"Okay," you say, still stunned by what had just happened. Your fingers gently grip his as he straightens up and pulls his hand from you. His wings fold down behind his back and disappear before he takes his coat and drapes it over his shoulders.

"That's my girl," he says with a low and husky voice, a hint of pride in it. He smiles brightly and takes a step back, making you gasp as he falls into nothingness. You rush to peek over the railing, only to find that he has disappeared into the crowd with no hint of anyone noticing him at all, so he must be alright. You breathe a sigh of relief, grateful that he is safe.

You linger on the balcony for a little while longer. It all seems too incredible to be true—almost magical. Never would you have thought something like this could happen to you; you are so used to your dull life of being the eldest, but then again, that's what it means to be a responsible and reliable older sibling. Or perhaps you have caught some nasty disease and are just imagining all this during a fever dream. Either way, you enjoyed this. The realization prods you in the side as you remember that you didn't even ask the gentleman's name. Perhaps you will get lucky and see him introducing his invention at a parade in the future. Or perhaps this encounter will just remain a peculiar memory in the back of your mind.

You turn to enter the hallway and see a wide-eyed young woman staring back at you. She is frozen, like she has seen a ghost, and she looks at you with a hint of mistrust.

"Hello," you say, trying to strike up a conversation. "I'm here to see Meryl; she's my little sister. I'm sorry to have just barged in to the staff's quarters. Could you tell her I'm here? I'm in no rush; I'll wait till she has time."

She still stares at you and seems too frozen to say anything, only giving you a stiff nod and heading downstairs, where you hear a lot of commotion. You turn back to look out the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of the man again, but he's nowhere to be seen. The sweet smell of doughnuts and jam fills your nose as you patiently wait for your sister.

You fall deep into thought, only to be awoken by some loud running footsteps heading your way and Meryl's voice calling out your name. She rushes to you and grabs your hands, so you turn to face her.

"Meryl!" you say with slight apprehension as you see the surprise in her face.

"What's going on? Someone just told me you flew down into our balcony!" She says it with disbelief. It takes you a moment to process her words before responding.

"So that did happen. That wasn't a dream," you say with a mix of confusion and sadness. You hear a different voice speak to Meryl as you turn your gaze out the window again, not registering what they talk about. You relive everything that has happened to you within the last half hour in your head, trying to commit every detail to memory. Meryl looks at you with concern as you look away so apathetically and then drags you with her to the backrooms of the kitchen to sit down with you on some boxes in the storage room. She presses you until you open up and tell her everything about your track here and the strange man who saved you.

"Wow! He must have been an inventor then!" Meryl exclaims as you finish your story with how he disappeared into the crowd.

"But he was so kind to me. He rescued me, Meryl."

"Of course he did! He was trying to seduce you! You are so lucky! If that inventor was Vash, he would have done much worse right then and there! He is an awful womanizer!"

"No, he wouldn't. Vash only does that to beautiful girls."

"Ah, don't give me that! You need to be more careful! It's dangerous out there! Even the infamous Millions Knives is back on the prowl." She looks at the side of your face and leans closer. "Are you listening?"

But you are so consumed by your thoughts, you barely realize what she is saying. Your gaze had been fixed by a giant tub of custard.

"Huh?" You finally turn to face your sister again.

"Argh!" Meryl lets out a disgruntled sigh. You see it from her face that she's about to start lecturing you, but a young man informing her about a new batch of dougnuts being done saves you from it.

"Okay! I'll be right there!" She turns a touch more cheerfully toward the cook.

"Alright! I better get going then. I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay." You stand up, ready to leave, to both avoid getting Meryl into trouble and getting an earful from her about the horrible danger that is lurking outside the city walls.

Meryl sees through you immediately but chooses not to lecture you this time on that topic. She leads you to the backdoor, where a man is carrying bags of flour.

"Now," Meryl comes close to you again. "Do you really want to spend the rest of your life in that gunshop?"

"The shop was just so important to father, and I'm the eldest! I don't mind." You try to keep your tone cheerful as you look into her concerned face. But deep down, you know her words stir something up.

"I'm not asking what father would have wanted. I want to know what you want," she continues insistently.

"Well," you start to answer, not sure about what to say, but the man who carried in the flour comes back to say goodbye to Meryl, and your sister turns to him to wave goodbye. You take the opportunity to start to walk away and say, "I better get going."

"It's your life! Do something for yourself for once, will you?" she says, hoping that you will finally prioritize your own happiness.

"Bye, Meryl!" you say over your shoulder with a slight smile as you head home. Your head is still filled with a million thoughts, and Meryl only added to them. Yet you are glad she seems happy with her new life after she left your family's gunshop. You can't help but wonder if you'll ever find the same peace and contentment. But it matters little; you're the eldest, and you have a duty.

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munsonsreputation · 11 months

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I THINK THERE'S BEEN A GLITCH

CHAPTER ONE - WE WERE SUPPOSED TO BE JUST FRIENDS

series masterlist | chapter two ↣

steve harrington x fem!baker + artist

word count: [20.2K]

warnings: no use of y/n, lots of mentions of self deprecation, reader talking about an emotionally exhausting past bf, steve talking shit abt his parents, cursing, steve & reader crushing on each other so mutual pining, lots of sweetness and fluff <3

summary: you make friends with a girl named Robin who politely and hilariously mistakes some red paint on your jeans as blood. Who knew it would lead to you and her becoming friends and her inviting you to meet her other ones? The even bigger mystery is how her best friend, Steve, is starting to become someone you’re falling for.

Steve Harrington’s living room was packed. Not that it was particularly out of the ordinary since his place was the go-to spot for hangouts, but today it had been packed for a different reason and a new arrival. Though it seemed Robin was the only uneasy person even when she was the one who had begged for this to happen.

Trying to cope, she began fluffing up the couch pillows and straightening the books on the coffee table while she rambled.

“She’s cool. I mean, she paints, for one, like totally realistic paintings, but she also really loves baking!”

Mike rolled his eyes, puffing dramatically and deciding to take a flop down on the couch where she just tidied up, “She sounds like my grandma.”

“Piss off!” Robin hissed, smacking his knee as the rest of their friends watched on at the repartee.

Steve was the skeptical one about the whole situation, considering what could happen if Robin’s new friend wasn’t entirely who she was supposed to be. It’s not that he didn’t trust Robin’s whole intuition about people, but you seemed too good to be true. Almost like a fantasy because the person Robin described to all of them for the past few weeks was pure perfection.

Even everyone else was beginning to question if meeting at Steve’s house for the first time was a good idea, realizing that you could be a creep or a murderer, but they were just being a tad bit dramatic. Before he could think too much into it than he already was, the doorbell rang, catching everyone’s attention and eyes that darted towards the front door.

“I’ll get it!”

Robin clapped her hands excitedly, darting to the door and unlocking it with vigor before opening it wide enough so she and everyone else could get a good look at you.

You stood in the doorway with a big smile and your hands full. One balancing a bright yellow ceramic dish on your palm, and your other arm busy holding a covered frame between your body.

You wore a white skirt, decorated with itty bitty eyelets that resembled a daisy cutout and a white top with the same pattern to match. A brown shoulder bag draped across your chest and a pair of strappy sandals on your feet.

Only when you inched forward, meeting cheek to cheek with Robin, in an endearing hello, did they finally get a good glance at what you looked like.

Bright eyes, wispy lashes, and lids covered in the tiniest amount of sheer glitter. A glow from within on your cheeks and high points, like the sun and pretty pink petals were rushing to the surface of your skin. Dewy lips coated in gloss and flickers of sparkles that shined through your smile that you wore throughout the interaction.

“I’m so sorry I’m late!” was the first thing that came out of your mouth and the first time they had heard your voice.

Robin shook her head, opening the door wider and prompting you in, “don’t be!”

You looked around in curiosity, taking in the architecture and feel of the home before being greeted with a few smiles and waves from the strangers around the living room.

You returned it, though it never really dared to leave your face to begin with. Softly speaking out a few, “hi’s” and “hello’s” to them before turning towards Robin and holding out a big frame towards her.

“Happy Birthday!” You declared gleefully as she stared at you confused.

The rest of her friends murmuring something about possibly forgetting her birthday, just as puzzled as her.

She stuttered, trying to recall if she might have told you the wrong date or something, “I-It’s not my birthday?”

Your cheek met your shoulder shrewdly, once again pushing the gift towards her, “I know! But I wanted an excuse to give you this.”

You juggled the canvas into your hands, trying your best not to drop the pie pan. Robin reached her hands out, taking the pie from you as you flashed her a thankful smile, pulling the cover off the canvas to present her with a small gift of gratitude.

“Tah-Dah!” You singsonged, turning the canvas towards her and watching the shock and amazement that covered her face before a wide smile appeared followed by the “oh’s” and “ah’s” of her friends that you completely forgot about.

Robin spun her arms to the left of her, hastily handing the pie to Steve who took it and placed it on the coffee table. The front entrance of his home, now the new crowded spot as everyone marveled at the artwork. He quickly joined in, not wanting to miss an ounce of it, finding an open spot between you and Robin.

He took it all in, eyes fixed on the print that was gushing with blossoms of her favorite colors: sage green, mauve, and pale yellow. But it wasn’t an ordinary painting—the petals were formed with dollops of the paint, and it probably took days to dry. It was rare, something that he and the others had never seen before.

His fingers brushed the paint petals, careful not to mess up your handwork,“This is incredible….”

Flickering his gaze to you, he flashed you a toothy smile, letting his hand pull back from the canvas and stick out towards you.

“I’m Steve, by the way.” He extended his arm, making a sweeping gesture to catch your attention.

Tearing your eyes away from Robin’s heartwarming reaction, your sights drifted to the hand, then to the owner of it, instantly captivated by his friendliness and allure. Your stare lingered a bit too long, lost in trying to memorize him, so you shook your head, internally cursing yourself for the trance you fell into.

“Oh, sorry! It’s nice to meet you!” Quickly you handed the entire piece to Robin, adverting your full attention to the new acquaintance whose house you just barged into.

You knew just from the looks of it that he was Steve Harrington, the guy that Robin had described to you as being her insanely attractive yet idiotic best friend.

His hair, like Robin had described, was unquestionably perfect, falling into place as if he didn’t even try. Robin let you in on a secret that he was infamously called “King Steve” throughout high school for being so good with the ladies—now you were sure you knew why.

He chuckled when you grabbed his hand firmly, shaking it with vigor like how a father would but without the cynical look on your face. Instead, you looked genuinely thrilled, twinkling eyes and a broad smile gracing your lips.

“Great to finally meet you. Robin’s been yapping all week about her new friend.”

You laughed quietly, finally letting go of his hand and reaching over to sling your arm across Robin’s shoulder. She leaned into you, nuzzling her head against yours with a content look on her radiant face.

“Well, she’s been raving about all of her friends, so I just knew I had to meet you all.”

Robin smirked, finally giving you a hug and murmuring a curt thank you for the generous gift and turning to all of her friends while keeping you close to her side.

“Everyone, this is my new friend. I met her last week and now we’re attached to the hip!” Robin announced, her voice carrying a mix of affection and playful teasing.

Steve feigned a gasp, holding a hand over his heart, “Replacing me already?”

“Oh shut up, dingus!” Robin reached forward, whacking him with her palm as he yelped and pretended to be offended.

A curly-headed boy sporting a baseball cap stepped forward, “Ignore those two, they’re literal children…I’m Dustin!”

You reached your hand out, shaking his before casually everyone began introducing themselves to you.

Part of you was trying to remember each name connected to a face, but it was also a tad bit overwhelming with so many of them. Making friends was never an easy task for you, but you liked your own solitude, so you didn’t mind. But that also didn’t mean you didn’t long to have friends who you could talk to or hang out with from time to time and share your life with.

So when Robin tapped you on the shoulder at the grocery store to inform you your period had arrived you were visibly horrified but relieved that she offered you her jacket as you two found the restroom. And in the bathroom you let out a ridiculous laugh, covering your mouth as she stared at you in the mirror’s reflection confused.

“Red paint! This is paint! I must have sat on it or something!”

You and Robin hit it off, talking for what seemed like hours inside that grocery store bathroom. The two of you had a habit of over sharing, but it helped you bond and grow closer. After exchanging numbers and spending afternoons on the phone talking and getting to know each other better , she invited you over to a hangout with her friends.

“You guys must have scared her or something.” Robin shook you a bit in her hold to grab you away from a little daydream.

You blinked, looking over at her, then back to her friends watching until you came through, “sorry! sorry! I zone out sometimes…I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. She does it all the time.” Steve pointed at Robin who stuck her tongue out at him.

Nancy, the brunette who you remembered as one of the kids’ older sister, stepped forward hooking her arm inside yours, “Okaaaay, here, why don’t you come sit?”

She wore a warm smile and guided you further into the living room. Her touch was gentle, and the gesture alone made you feel like she was happy to have you here, easing a bit of your anxiety. When she unhooked her arm from yours, you mouthed a “thank you,” and she shook it off, just smiling and patting the empty seat beside her.

You placed your purse down on your lap, while Robin sat on the other side of you. The rest of the friends finding their own area on the opposite couch or on the floor, making you feel less suffocated and more like an inviting circle.

“Robin tells us that you’re mega cool!” Dustin exclaims followed by a thwack on the head by the red head Max and her boyfriend Lucas who sports the bucket hat.

Timidly, you swung your head low, feeling a mix of bashfulness and gratitude for her words when you weren’t around. You glanced towards Robin, who beamed with pride because she genuinely thought you were the coolest person she had ever met—probably even on the planet.

“I don’t think I’m cool…like at all.” You admitted, rubbing a hand up and down your arm.

Robin rolled her eyes, shaking her head at her friends then looking back at you, “She’s too humble, I mean really, she is so super duper cool and I’m shocked she’d even consider being my friend.”

Jokingly, you nudged her, making her laugh, “Don’t sell yourself short, Robin—“

Before you could continue uplifting the spirts of self esteem, the boy with the unruly hair…Mick? Mike!

Mike cuts in, eyes zeroing in on your torso where you begin to follow.

“What’s that on your shirt?” He squinted, pointing at the recent stains on your top.

Peeping your eyes down and looking meticulously, the stain was barely noticeable unless someone was really looking—anyway, the white color was a bit off from the shade of your actual top, and there had been some sort of residue left.

Nancy realized it at first, seeing that the stain couldn’t be seen to the naked eye, unless her brother was being a disgusting little shithead. She swiftly grabbed the decorative pillow behind her, chucking it towards him.

“You’re such a pig, Mike!”

Everyone switched their attention from you, and instead pestered and teased Mike for being so “observant” with you here in a spaghetti strap top.

But you attempted to stifle your laughter, not wanting him to feel so embarrassed despite his sudden interjection. You were hoping he wasn’t being a stereotypical depraved teen who couldn’t focus when your shoulders were out.

Instead, you attempted to swipe at it with your fingertips, but alas it didn’t budge and stubbornly clung to the fabric, “ It’s just paint and apparently…” You tugged the portion closer to your nose, scrunching it up, “Sugar. Powdered sugar.”

The young boy almost looked impressed at your ability to articulate the specific ingredient despite the verbal onslaught he had just faced. “Sick.”

Robin clicked her tongue, jutting her chin out toward Steve who sat across from you in a recliner.

“Steve, give her something to change into,” she told him, prompting him to sit up, looking at you and instantly nodding.

“Yeah, of course, follow me,” He motioned you to follow his lead as he stood up, yet you remained sitting, tipping your head slightly up at him.

You raised one of your brows, “Are you sure? I’m totally ok with it. It’s my fault, anyway.”

“I’m sure…c’mon, it’s the least I could do.” Steve nodded again, waving his arm towards himself, and you got up.

Trailing behind Steve up the stairs, you marveled at the simplicity of the home despite its expanse. The wallpaper was a muted gray with cream accents and walls encasing the space leading up were decorated with a few framed photographs that you assumed were Steve and his family.

From what Robin had told you, his parents weren’t home too often, if at all, which explained why the photos were outdated and mostly from his childhood, having no evidence of recent portraits.

The hallway towards the bedrooms had a running rug across the wooden floors. The fuzzy textile felt worn yet homey against your feet. Steve’s bedroom was located at the end of the hall, and when he opened up the door, you seemed to feel more of his personality shining in that space.

“Ignore the mess.” He apologized, twisting open the door to let you in first.

In contrast to the living room and main quarters of the house, his room felt more like himself.

The wallpaper in his room, plaid with white, green, and black accents and, of course, matching curtains. His bed was somewhat neatly made with the pillows fluffed and gray sheets on the mattress. A few drawers to hold what you assumed were part of his closet and other belongings.

But his desk, which looked to be the most messy yet contained spot of his room, littered with tapes, books, and other papers. The only thing hanging on his wall was a photo of a vintage car that you couldn’t name for the life of you.

You turned your head to look at him, where he stood, watching you taking in the space with a grin,“You’re actually really neat…neater than I am.”

Steve let out a grunt, chuckling to himself as he turned to his accordion wardrobe doors and opened them in search of finding you something without a stain. It didn’t help that he had forgotten to do a fresh load of laundry, but that the rest of his clean shirts were polos and hoodies.

“So are you from Hawkins?” He wondered, sifting through the hangers.

“No, I’m from Roane, actually! I only really come to Hawkins for the art store but last weekend I decided to run my errands here since I was already in town and that’s how I met Robin.”

You explained, your fingers absentmindedly rubbing the fabric of your shirt between the stain still trying to get it out.

Steve plucked a hoodie from the rack, holding it up in front of you, trying to decipher its comfort. The fabric was way too thick, and he was certain that in this Hawkins weather you’d be drowning in not only a puddle of fleece but sweat too.

Shaking his head, he gave you an apologetic glance that you didn’t seem to catch.

“You live alone?” He planted the item back on the hanger and continued to look.

“Yeah, but I actually used to live with my boyfriend…or ex-boyfriend now,” You clarified, giving up on the stubborn stain and sighing, “we were together for a little while but he just decided things weren’t working out and so he left.”

He looked back briefly, eyebrows raised in curiosity, “How many years were you guys together…if you don’t mind me asking.”

You shook your head, reassuring him that it was alright, “Six years.”

The widening of his eyes made you giggle, but it wasn’t unexpected considering someone your age having a relationship that long wasn’t typically normal.

“Excuse me? Six years! I don’t even think I’ve had a single friend stay in my life for six years.”

“Seems like a lifetime, right?” You joked with a comical lift to your voice and he nodded like it was the obvious answer, which it was.

He knew that you both weren’t too far apart in age, both in your early twenties, but it was just shocking to hear that you were in a six year relationship at your age. The longest relationship he had was a year with Nancy Wheeler and even then that seemed like forever, but you must have really fallen deeply in love with your ex if you lasted that long.

“We kinda just grew out of each other. It’s kinda inevitable after dating all four years of high school then two years after that. We just realized that we wanted different things in life and by different, he wanted me to “finally start taking life seriously,” or whatever the fuck that meant.”

You rolled your eyes dramatically, making air quotes with your fingers.

So that explains it, he thought to himself.

“He wanted to move out of Indiana?” Steve questioned, turning his attention back to his closet.

You made a noise, unsure if that fully answered his question. But you moved up beside him, silently asking if it was okay to help him sift through the hangers. Nodding, he shifted over, giving you space to look through the untouched hangers.

You went back to his question, giving him an actual answer, that you hoped would sum up the story that was way too long to tell in whole.

“Not necessarily…but he just didn’t like the fact that art was not only my hobby, but my passion. He always wanted me to get a real job, you know, those boring ones where you sit at a desk all day and think about what you did so wrong in your past life to be doing paperwork for the rest of it.”

His eyes followed as your face contorted with revulsion as if that was one of the most heinous jobs in the world, but for someone like you who thrived off creative free rein, it truly was. Steve threw his head, laughing at your expression, finding it truly amusing because for someone like him, he also realized that even if he was a lost young adult, he’d much rather keep working at a VHS store than walk into work everyday wearing an uncomfortable suit and dozing off in meetings.

His amusement turned your scorned face upside down, abruptly reeling in the fact that he actually found what you said to be funny. And you hoped that he wasn’t being overdramatic just to make you feel better, but you were positive that it wasn’t because it was the type of laughter that had the skin by his eyes creased because of how hard he was laughing—even his arm slinging over his torso, like the laughter was so infectious that it hurt.

The sound of his hilarity, leaping off the walls of his room like music to your ears, wishing you possessed the ability to always make people laugh this freely, just to witness moments like this. Eventually, though, he settled down, snapping his fingers at you and pointing with a still carefree smile on his lips.

“That was a good one! Now I’ve gotta use that when my dad keeps bugging me about getting a real job.” He praised, finally turning back the original spot in his closet and plucking it off the rod.

It was a bright yellow long sleeve, the fabric not too thick or thin, but just about right. You reached for the sleeve of it, feeling the material between your fingers, and Steve’s eyes waited for your approval.

“Feels nice.” You said with a nod, dropping it from your fingertips and letting him slide the garment off the plastic hanger before placing it in your hands.

He glanced back at the bedroom door, then back to you, “I’ll wait outside the door so you can change.” He offered, letting himself out and closing it behind him.

Inside the room, Steve could hear the soft rustling as you moved, wondering if what he gave you was good enough or if you were being too nice and not wanting to offend him by saying the yellow color was awful. Meanwhile, you placed your top on the lid of his hamper, making a mental note to come back here and retrieve it before you headed back home.

His voice came through on the other side of the door, breaking the brief silence.

“Sooo…your ex-boyfriend. I’m sure he was a computer science major, right? Totally douchey with a superiority complex?”

You snorted, pulling the garment over your body and slipping your arms through the sleeves. “You think computer science is douchey?”

He leaned up against the door frame, humming a reply and then finding the words.

“Yeah, totally, I mean nothing screams douchey than a guy who thinks he’s better than someone because he works with computers and not a paintbrush.”

Your movements slowed as you pulled your hair free from the collar and fitted the excess material underneath itself so it wasn’t drowning over you.

There was suddenly that fond pleasant feeling brewing in the pit of your stomach and in the cage of your chest. When Robin had mentioned that Steve was charming, she wasn’t kidding. There was no reason he should have this much of an effect on you so soon. Yet, here he was, effortlessly tearing down your ex-boyfriend and making you feel better about your own endeavors.

After a few seconds of taking a deep breath to collect yourself, you reached for the doorknob, turning it open to see his body supported by the one arm propped against the wooden frame. You bit your lip, watching his gaze fall down your face to his shirt on your body.

“Then I’d say you’re right…you guessed it,” Your arms flared out before coming down to your sides, standing there not knowing what else to say considering he had hit the nail head-on.

For the first time in the last fifteen minutes since he met you, this was the only time you seemed so sheepish. Out in the living room you looked so confident, even when it was obvious that the attention towards you was a little overwhelming, you still could change the subject or revert it somewhere else. Here with your eyes glued to your feet, not meeting him, he felt like you were trapped — that he might have said something that hit a little too close to home and made you uncomfortable.

His eyes softened, clearly full of regret for being so upfront about a situation he only knew surface level stuff about. Just because you had talked to him a little about the horrible stuff your ex said, didn’t mean he understood the whole story. That there clearly was something deeper, possibly trauma that he didn’t know about and here you were forced to endure the awkward silence and flooding memories of what had happened all because he couldn’t shut up.

Your view of your feet against the wooden floor was suddenly interrupted by Steve’s hands reaching forward, accompanied by his voice.

“I—I’m sorry, for bringing it up…I didn’t mean to make you feel bad or anything! I-It’s just, he sounds like a total dick and you should know that what he told you isn’t true—“

He spoke rapidly, stumbling over his words and making short pauses, making sense because the last thing he wanted to do was make you feel uneasy.

You furrowed your brows, snapping your eyes up to his.

“No, no! You’re fine, it’s just that, no one has really said that stuff about him…about him being an asshole. And…I don’t know, it kinda feels nice to hear.”

Underneath your reassuring expression, your lips twitched up and Steve swore you were about to burst into a full on prideful smirk because of the jabs he took at your ex. So his words indeed took you aback, but in a good way.

He validated your feelings about your past relationship and suddenly there was a shift in the mood, and Steve closed his eyes, taking a relieved breath, grateful that he hadn’t scared you away with that conversation.

Meanwhile, you laughed softly to yourself, feeling a rush of giggles bubble up in your chest, seeing him relax under your certainty.

He opened his eyes, looking at you, trying to look stone-faced, “But, seriously, he’s sounds like a huge asshole,” He couldn’t help the cackle that escaped through his lips, breaking his solemn face, followed by you pushing a hand out and pressing his shoulder gingerly.

“The hugest! I’m being so serious!” You added, only making the two of you laugh harder, not caring to contain it in the small space between the bedroom and the hallway.

A simple moment in time was all you needed to know that Steve was genuinely a good guy, not just a pretty face with an idiotic mind attached to him. As the laughter died down, Steve stepped back, holding his hand out and gesturing you into the hallway with him and back down the stairs where you two were met with the noise of your friends chatting in the living room.

Robin slapped a hand over her forehead once the two of you came into view, earning a raised eyebrow from you and Steve, both of whom stopped a few feet into the area. She exaggeratedly dropped her hand to her side, feigning exasperation.

“What’s the matter?” You crossed your arms across your chest, looking genuinely troubled and waiting for an explanation.

All eyes turned to you and Steve now, grunts and smothered laughs coming from everyone, while you guys both stood there, oblivious to their reactions. Dustin, unable to contain himself, started convulsing with laughter and clutching his stomach, even going as far as to throw himself into Mike’s lap before getting shoved off.

Then he stood up in front of both of you, pointing an accusing finger at Steve’s shirt he lent you.

“What did you do to make him hate you so much that he gave you that horrid shirt?”

His face twisted in disgust, and he mockingly gagged, sticking out his tongue and dramatically turning away. Steve should’ve seen this one coming. He swatted Dustin’s hand away from you, shaking his head with a playful scowl. Then placed his hands on his hips, adopting a father-like pose, something else they also teased him for.

He had worn the long sleeve a couple of times before, and each time he did, everyone poked fun at him. Commenting on the revolting color, comparing it to poop or vomit instead of the ground seed condiment he claimed it paralleled, according to the saleswomen at Macy’s who convinced him enough to buy it. And now that’s why he stopped wearing it, growing tired of the kids, but especially Robin and Eddie, calling him ‘Baby Poop Harrington’ in the middle of Star Court and Family Video.

“You guys just don’t get fashion,” Steve argued, raising his eyebrows and forehead toward the others in an unconvincing manner. He fanned his arm, gesturing at you.

“It’s mustard, and it clearly looks good on her.”

The compliment was sudden, causing your eyes to enlarge somewhat and cheeks to blush. You hoped that no one caught it, being too busy to notice you looking downward at the shirt pretending to examine it in order to play it off when in fact you were rubbing your lips together to stop the smile from rising with your cheeks.

The banter continued to go on, which made you relieved, as you were able to get some composure and flicker your sights back up to everyone else arguing with Steve. Eddie huffed out a laugh, stretching his arms behind his head where he lounged on the opposite couch. He pointedly stared at you and the outfit, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

“Nobody said it doesn’t look good on her. We just said the color isn’t very pretty.”

Nancy tilted her head, observing you and the shirt closely. Her eyes widened in realization, and she nodded in agreement.

“Actually, it does look really good on you. Maybe the styling was the issue.” She glanced at Steve with a grimace before waving it off and marveling at the color.

Steve raised his voice, as if trying to convince them through sheer volume. “I wore it with blue sweatpants!”

“Exactly!” the group chorused, their voices overlapping in mock protest.

You couldn’t help but snort out a short laugh, finding the entire situation amusing. You exchanged glances with Steve, realizing that this was obviously a very passionate but lighthearted topic within the friend group, kinda like their own inside joke.

Steve ignored the rest of the laughter and teasing, falling back into his comfortable recliner as you sat yourself back in between Nancy and Robin.

Lucas, the one seated next to the redhead who was his girlfriend, tapped his fist on the coffee table. “Can we cut into the pie? It smells delicious, and it’s been calling my name for the past thirty minutes.”

You nodded excitedly, rubbing your hands together, “Sure, it’s cherry by the way, so hopefully you all like that!” Your hands fell into your lap, looking over at Steve.

“I just need a knife to cut into it and some plates and forks.”

Steve rose up, giving you a nod, “I’ll go get it,” he said before walking through the archway into what you assumed was the kitchen.

The kids had gathered around the coffee table, smelling the air to get a whiff of the baked good you had spent the whole morning baking, and even Eddie got up from his relaxed state to push the kids aside and get a smell.

You felt a little bad seeing as though Steve had already gone out of his way to open up his home to you and then lend you clothing after a mishap that was entirely your fault, yet you were still sitting here, not helping.

You looked over at Robin, patting her knee smoothly, “I’ll go help Steve.”

Before you could stand up, she grasped onto your wrist, waving the other in the air, signing off that he could handle it alone, “He’s fine, don’t worry about it,”

But of course you insisted with a reassuring laugh, feeling her touch drop your hand, as you got up. “No, it’s fine, I really should!”

Before she could protest or take your spot, you were already striding away, following into the archway that Steve had just gone through. His back was facing you, arms reaching into the cupboard to grab a stack of plates that clinked together.

“Let me help,” you announced your presence with eagerness, walking up beside him.

He looked over at you, relaxing his arms back down,“Hey, no, you're not supposed to be helping!”

Your fingers tugged the bottom of his borrowed long sleeve, the fabric dancing between your fingers as you shot him a mischievous smirk, “Oh, c’mon, it’s the least I could do.”

He smiled at your mocking tone having no choice but to give in, “Fine, but just this once,” pretending to let out an exasperated sigh like you were a nuance, when in fact you weren’t.

He nodded his chin to the set of drawers where the utensils were prompting you to grab the needed amount of forks while he gathered the remainder of the plates.

“Does it ever get lonely living alone?” He asked, voice carrying a hint of interest, while shutting the cupboard and walking to the other side of the kitchen to retrieve a knife.

“Hmmm,” You thought for a second, shrugging as you bumped your hip into the drawer, shutting it gently.

“Sometimes, but I’ve grown pretty used to it. There’s some positives like not feeling so bad when you forget to start the dishwasher.”

He chuckled, grunting an agreement for the simple joys that living along could bring, but he also wondered about the negatives, “And the cons?”

Your heart skipped a beat already knowing the answer right off the top of your head because it was something that ate away at your heart every day. Leaving and coming home to the same space, roaming the halls and rooms—all of yours but only yours, the kind that was lonely.

“Not having someone you can go home to, or at least looking forward to coming to.” You confessed with a frown.

Steve sympathized, knowing that feeling all too well considering the home life he had been living since he was a teenager. Left alone with no parents around to really parent him in the first place, there was a fine line between being a teen and also being the adult to make the house a home.

He’d try to, even when his parents were away on trips, doing a load of dishes and laundry. Cleaning out the overgrown weeds in the yard. Vacuuming and mopping the floors. All of this in hopes that when his parents did come home and see how it had been maintained, that maybe they’d want to stay home and spend time with their son.

But alas, that meant nothing to them. If anything, it proved his parents’ thoughts that Steve was more than capable of being home all by himself. Making the home even emptier that it already was knowing that his parents would purposefully be gone longer now.

“Y’know, it’s nice having this house all to myself, but it gets lonely too. My uh—my parents aren’t really home much, my mom follows my dad on all his work trips…kinda making sure he doesn’t cheat on her or something.”

He let out a dry laugh while you cringed, expecting that it is in fact a joke, but he continues letting you know it isn’t.

“Anyway, ummm, it’s nice and all being able to throw parties and invite people whenever, but sometimes I just wished there was more here.”

Looking around the room, he gestured all around and exhaled, “Like family dinners where we actually talk or even just coming home from work and seeing my parents watching tv on the couch. I swear, I haven’t seen them sit in the living room or turn on the tv since I was like twelve.”

Placing the forks on the stack of plates, you turned apologetically to him, resting a comforting hand on his arm, seeing the way his face fell and his voice wavered on the edge between resentment and misery.

“I’m so sorry, Steve.” You withdrew, apologizing, though none of this was your fault.

Steve cleared his throat with a hoarse cough, swinging his head. Placing the knife down on the plates, as he ran his hand down his face, “No, don’t apologize, it’s stupid. I should be grateful they left me with a house to myself, right?”

He let out a laugh, as if that was going to make you feel any better for the way that he was feeling. Robin only mentioned little about the absence of Steve’s parents, and you knew it wasn’t any of your business, but it made you feel for him. For how lonesome it must be for him to be estranged from the people who gave him life, yet left him under their roof and pretended like he didn’t exist.

You, however, made the choice to live alone. After you graduated high school, you hightailed it out of your parents’ house and got a lease to your now apartment all by yourself. It wasn’t until a few months later that your then boyfriend moved in, but still after the breakup you got to keep the place all to yourself, which was valuable in a lot of ways.

But it was also sad.

You didn’t have many friends that you kept in touch with from high school. If anything, they weren’t really the nicest nor supportive types of friends that you wanted to keep anyways. They agreed with your ex that you had to start taking life seriously and cease pursuing art, but you never listened to them. So maybe it was better off to live alone in your own seclusion rather than just keeping them around for company.

In spite of those not so kind friends of that past, things felt a lot different with the group that you met today. Like you could let your walls down and finally open up the door.

Your finger twiddled against one another, letting out a proposition, “M-Maybe you can come to my place and hangout? All of you…I mean!”

You were crossing your fingers that he didn’t catch the slip up that made it sound like you only wanted him to come over.

His hands stop at his jaw, fanning over the skin there, before turning slightly towards you with a surprised look on his face.

“Really?”

You nodded eagerly, “I haven’t had guests around for a while and I would really love for you—you guys to come and visit.”

There was that slip again, but Steve was too engrossed to catch it.

“I would love—“

“Jesus Christ, what’s taking so long!?”

The holler coming from the living room burst that bubble between you and Steve, ultimately making you giggle when he groaned heavily, muttering an, “I’m so sorry about them,” to you while you shook your head and followed behind him while he grabbed the kitchenware.

“You guys were taking forever!” Mike wailed, making Steve roll his eyes as you gave a gentle laugh at his impatience.

“We were barely gone two minutes.” Steve replied, placing the plates down on the table while you carefully grabbed the knife.

“It’s my fault. I was talking to Steve about having you guys over sometime.” You said, looking up at the boy before making the first cut into the pie.

Robin gasped behind you, clapping her hands ecstatically, “Oh my gosh, please! Steve and I are off on Thursday!”

She turned towards Steve, looking at him dubiously. “We’re off on Thursday, right?”

“Yeah,” He snickered, nodding his head as he slid you a plate to lay the first slice on.

Steve picked up the plate, giving it to El just to spite the impatient Mike who sat beside her and groaned until you finished cutting the next slice which was given to Lucas. So you continued to cut as Steve served everyone.

“Jonathan and I have a half day on Thursday, so we should be able to swing by during the afternoon.” Nancy spoke before digging into her slice.

The last two slices remained as everyone dug into their portion while you plated it up. Passing Steve a plate, “You first.” You said quietly with a smile.

He grinned, thanking you with a nod before taking a seat on the recliner. You got yourself the last plate, scooting back towards your original seat.

“Where do you guys work?” You looked towards Nance and Jonathan.

He swallowed his piece before speaking. “Hawkins Post. I work on photography and she writes.” his fork pointed to her before she nodded and continued.

“Technically, we’re still interning, but we’re hoping to secure a permanent job once our internship is up.” She told you as you nodded your head.

“That’s cool! Roane has a weekly paper, but it’s usually just filled with the same political crap about our Mayor trying to drive out local businesses and replace them with big chain stores.” You said wistfully, shaking your head.

She chewed faster, murmuring out a reply before she was able to respond with actual words.

“Our Mayor, Mayor Kline, is actually doing the same thing! Jonathan and I have been begging to do a story about it to help save the mom-and-pop businesses, but our boss Tom,” she exhaled heavily, shaking her head with annoyance, “he agrees with the Mayor and totally shuts us down every time.”

You pouted, placing down your untouched plate, and placing a warm hand on her shoulders, “God, I bet you they’re such assholes…I wish I could help, but seriously, if at any point you guys do figure out a way to make it happen, I’ll be happy to help any way I can.”

Your voice was somehow sweeter than the pie that Steve was scarfing down as he watched and listened on. Everyone was too busy in their own conversations to care about the one you and Nancy were having, but not him, though he was more so focused on you. He just hoped he didn’t look like a sloppy toddler that was too distracted to realize food was all over his mouth.

Steve was just so enamored by your grace and everything that was new to him.

He noticed the way your eyes would trickle over with all of these different sentiments while Nance confided in you about the struggles at Hawkins Post. But he assumed this was just how you usually were, a part of you, so invest in people and wanting them to know that they could talk to you and you would do your bestest to give your deepest empathy.

Only one thing he couldn’t understand was how anyone, let alone your ex-boyfriend, let go of someone who was as pure and generous as you. Steve Harrington was sure, even after only meeting you today, that you were the sweetest person he had ever had the honor of encountering. That if he really knew you were too good to be true like this, he would’ve begged Robin to invite you sooner.

“Can I have your slice if you’re not going to eat it?” Dustin’s voice broke in, his plate already finished with only crumbs left behind.

Tearing your gaze away from Nancy and switching to the boy who looked on at your untouched plate on the table. You grinned, leaning forward to push the plate closer to him, “Go crazy, I’m not hungry, anyway.”

So not only were you kind, you were also patient—Steve was making a mental list without even realizing it and knowing what for.

Here you were giving up your slice for the little teenage twerp that just insulted the top you were borrowing only a few minutes ago. If Steve were in your shoes, he’d tell the little shit to think about making fun of mustard again before thinking he’d give up a slice of his pie for him, but then again, you weren’t Steve and you definitely weren’t an asshole.

“Dude, let her have her slice!” Eddie chastised with a mouth full of cherries and pie pastry.

Max flicked him on the head with a grunt. “Yeah Dusty, no wonder Suzie broke up with you.”

Dustin glared, pulling your plate to him, “Oh shut up, I told you me and Suzie are perfectly fine and still together!” he hissed, not hesitating to take a bite of his pie.

You shifted yourself to face forward, eyes on the kids who were thoroughly not convinced about Dustin’s so-called girlfriend.

“Suzie?” You spoke curiously, “Does she live in Hawkins?”

They all shook their heads, and Dustin spoke with a full mouth, but still you could hear him clearly. “She lives in Utah! Her family is crazy Mormon though, so I can only call during certain hours to speak to her through my Cerebro.”

Your eyes widened, “Cerebro? Like from X-Men?”

“You know X-Men?” the kids all shouted.

You laughed, nodding your head undoubtedly. “I only have a few, but X-Men #7 is one of my favorites.”

“Holy shit, you weren’t kidding when you said she was mega cool.” Dustin’s eyes darted to Robin’s, which made you laugh.

“So tell me more about Cerebro.”

Honestly, it was hard for any of the kids to find other people who understood or got them the way that their older siblings and friends did. It’s mainly the reason why their friend group was so small and tight-knit in the first place and they’d be lying to say they weren’t the first to oppose the idea of bringing in a new person to the group.

But you seemed genuinely engrossed in the kids’ lives, not just instinctively nodding your head and humming so that they could feel like you cared, but you really did. Asking questions about Dustin’s summer camp where he and Suzie met and finding it quite adorable that he would go out of his way to build something to speak to a girl on the other side of the country.

Halfway through your conversation with the kids, Steve got up, heading towards the kitchen in hopes of finding you something to eat, seeing as though Dustin took hostage of your food. It didn’t help that he absolutely sucked at cooking and had nothing in his fridge to offer you other than a coke which definitely wouldn’t make up for your pie loss.

With his back turned to the fridge, he could feel a presence behind him, trying to be quiet, yet failing, and he knew it was you, or at least thought it was because of the earlier instance.

“I thought I told you that you were a guest and you should be enjoying yourself in the—what the fuck Robs!”

She cackled, hunched over laughing to herself once Steve finally turned around and noticed it was, in fact, not you but her.

“Jesus, what’s the matter with you? Sneaking up on me like that!” He crossed his arms over his chest at Robin who was trying to settle down.

“You’re so gullible! Like I wasn’t even trying! I was just trying to see what you were up to and you thought that I was her!” She laughed maniacally, failing to contain herself.

“Yeah, I came in here to try to find something she can eat, seeing as though Dustin lacks consideration and didn’t think to ask if she ate anything before coming here.” He sighed, turning around and opening back up the fridge, like something would magically appear before his eyes.

Robin calmed down, nudging him away from the refrigerator so that she could get a look. Her fingers instantly pulled open one of the drawers where the fresh fruit that were barely touched were.

“This will do.” She grabbed an apple and orange, passing it off to Steve.

He raised his brows, “Don’t you think she wants something else?”

She shook her head. “Nope, she loves fresh fruit! Told me how much she loves them in her salads and how she picks up fresh ones from the market to make sweets and drinks with them.”

“Fine. Just go back in there and I’ll cut these up.”

She held her hands up in defense, slightly mocking in a higher pitched voice as she walked backwards, “Oh okay, Chef Harrington, thank you so much for your service to our pretty guest.”

He closed his eyes shut, shaking his head as he heard a snicker come from Robin before she fully exited and gave him the kitchen all to himself where he cut and peeled the fruit, neatly placing them on a plate for you. Steve wished you would have snuck in just to get another chance to talk to you alone because he wasn’t quite sure if he could hold a conversation with you when everyone was around.

You didn’t intimidate him per se, but he liked speaking to you one-on-one when there were no idiotic teens around to make him feel weird for asking such silly questions. But you didn’t sneak in, still holding the conversation with the teens as he walked out and placed the plate on the coffee table in front of you.

“Here you go,” Steve announced softly, not wanting to break the conversation.

You looked up at him, seeing the plated fruit slices he had arranged in a circle, “Oh, you didn’t have to! But thank you!”

“No problem.” He grinned, heading back to his seat.

“So what about you?” You turned your gaze towards El, the quiet one of the bunch who sat and listened for the most part. “What do you like to do?”

“Poetry.” She said faintly, making you smile as you popped an apple slice in your mouth.

“I used to do a lot of poetry too when I was your age.” You told her, and she looked at you curiously.

“I have a ton of journals from when I was in high school, but ultimately I think my calling has always been art.” You smiled at her, seeing the way she lit up at that.

“What did you write about?”

“Typical teenage stuff. Growing up. Strict parents. Bullies. Boys.”

“Do you have a boyfriend?” Max cut in.

You took a deep breath, unsure of how to bring this up, “Umm, well, I uh, y-yeah—well, no yeah! I meant no! I don’t have one! But I used to, but we broke up.”

“How long were you together?” Mike asked.

“Stop being invasive, Michael!” Nancy quietly scolded, earning a glare from Mike who paid her no mind and went back to you waiting for an answer.

“Umm, you know, a really long time, but it was so long ago that—“

“Estimate?” Lucas countered.

You swallowed anxiously, not really wanting to talk about this, but feeling you had to answer before it got awkward, “Like six—“

“Jesus, you twerps are nosey. Just let her and El talk about poetry.” Steve surged into the conversation, getting up to retrieve an orange slice from the plate as he ruffled the hair on the teen’s head walking back to his seat in order to play it off.

You took a deep breath through your light-hearted smile, eyes dancing towards him to shoot him a grateful glance for his quick thinking.

The last thing you wanted to talk to the teens about was your tumultuous relationship that came to a world crumbling end. Plus, the teens were in their own relationships. You didn’t want to jeopardize their ideas of their own relationships because of your past one. They were smart and kind, and didn’t need to hear about your ex to know that about themselves.

Steve didn’t quite know what else your ex did to make you freeze up like this in front of everyone, but he wasn’t going to let it happen. It was his fault anyway for bringing it up in the first place and he had to make up for that, to let you know that he had your back, even when it came to his own friends who were just as innocently curious as him.

He got the chance to peel back a layer of your history in private, something that he knew was a privilege to learn about, but he wouldn’t let you be put on the spot like this when you weren’t ready.

There was an ease to the room once Steve made it clear that your love life wasn’t up for discussion right now. Everyone just seemed to forget it was even brought up in the first place. El smoothly shifted topics back to poetry and took the moment to ask you if you still wrote from time to time, which you happily gave her the answer to.

Thankfully, poetry wasn’t the only topic of discussion.

Eddie had told you about his band Corroded Coffin that played every Tuesday and Sunday at the Hideout Bar where he also worked. The kids had been begging to go to a show in order to see him and his friends live, but since the bar had a very obvious and strict age limit, they’d just have to wait until they were 21.

Robin finally told you about her and Steve’s creepy manager Keith who had been smuggling R rated tapes from Family Video, which they then used against him in order to get days off whenever they wanted. Things only got funnier when Steve revealed that Keith had accidentally forgotten to switch the tapes back to the original casing, which led to a very angry mother coming in and demanding to speak to the manager when her son had brought home “Star Whores: Attack of the Silicone.”

At some point, you found yourself excessively laughing with Nancy and Robin while Jonathan reenacted his father, Hopper’s reaction to a stash of weed that he had bought off of Eddie. Hopper actually sounded pretty cool considering he was police chief and didn’t make the boy flush it down the toilet. Instead, just asking for a bit because he wanted to try to make weed brownies.

You definitely needed to meet him one day and hopefully ask him how the baking process was.

Lucas, on the other hand, had vented about the captain of the basketball team, Jason, who was a total asshole and didn’t know how to shoot a three pointer to save his life. Max suggested that one of them attack him from behind and break his leg so that Lucas could be the star player for the season.

But somehow Mike had an even more vicious plan, to poison him and take him out for good—but of course he looked at you, with cautious hands held out, “We’re just kidding by the way!”

To say that you enjoyed yourself this afternoon would be an understatement because, for the first time in forever, it felt as though your social battery wasn’t draining. You would want to spend the rest of the day here in Steve’s living room listening to them talk about their lives and ask you about your mundane one.

But time always went by fast when you were spending it with people who were so fun and carefree, so when you caught the hour on Steve’s clock, you knew you had to get going.

Everyone gave you a hug, thanking you for stopping by and of course bringing the pie, the same one that they were begging you to bring the next time you would come into Hawkins. And you sure did promise you would. Robin, being the sweet friend she was, attempted to convince you to stay a little while longer, but you knew you had to go, and you’d make it up to her another time—hopefully a girls’ night in the coming weeks.

Steve was the only one missing from the living room having excused himself to the kitchen a little while earlier to get the dirty dishes done. He even warned everyone to make sure you stayed in your seat and didn’t come in to help him clean up, knowing you would sneak up and try to offer it. After releasing a very tight and giggly hug from Robin, you stood up, making your way to the kitchen.

“Steve?” You knocked your fist against the archway, catching his attention as he turned to look over his shoulder.

“Hey, need something?” He asked, quickly shutting off the faucet and drying his hands on the kitchen towel hanging near the sink.

You shook your head, gesturing down to your purse slung over your shoulder, “I’m actually heading out now. Gotta get home before rush hour.”

He stooped dramatically, making you laugh as you offered your most sarcastic yet sincerest apologies for the departure of your presence.

“C’mon, I’ll walk you out.” He gestured, leading the way while you waved goodbye to everyone in the living room before following Steve out the front door.

“Thanks again for letting me come over.” You chirped, with your shoulders coming in shyly.

He waved it off, smiling down at you, “It’s no problem, it was really nice meeting you…I can’t wait to come over to your place.”

“I’m looking forward to it too…I just don’t know if I’ll be half the host that you were.”

“Don’t, you’re gonna be fine. Drive safe alright?”

You brushed your hair back behind your ear, nodding as you smiled once more, “I will, see you around Steve.”

Your arms didn’t hesitate to wrap around his neck, hugging him ardently. Even if you were wearing his clothes, smothered in the scent of his detergent and him, his senses were filled with you.

A bright vanilla aroma coming from you, and with your hair blowing in his face, he could help but drown in it, hoping this wouldn’t be the last time he’d get to hug you like this.

But alas, he had to let go, his large hands giving your shoulders a warm one over before finally pulling away and seeing your smiley face.

He stood by the porch, watching as you got into your car, taking note of every little detail of your movements.

Placing your purse in the passengers and checking the contents making sure you didn’t leave anything behind buckling in. You checked your mirrors while twirling the ends of your hair between your fingers, securing the locks against your back and the chair. After a few seconds, he could hear the gear change and watched as you twiddle your fingers upon the steering wheel, waving one last goodbye as you reversed out of his driveway.

“See ya…” He mouthed, with a tight smile, waving before you drove off.

The distance between Hawkins and Roane Country was almost an hour, which gave you a lot of time to think about today and especially wonder about Steve Harrington.

Honest to God, every time you’d catch him in your peripheral, beaming and nodding along at your conversations, you found yourself almost tumbling over your words. He was that distracting, in the best way possible.

There was something endearing about him, perhaps his ability to read your social cues or maybe the fact that he actually showed interest in you and whatever you were talking about. Even if he didn’t get it, you could tell he was listening intently, eyes following you wherever your hands and sights drifted, like a willow bending right to the wind.

You wished you had the guts to strike up a conversation with him in front of everyone else, but you were sure that if you did everyone would take note of how your shyness reached a whole other level with a pretty guy sitting in front of you. Steve was easy to talk to, but you didn’t know if you were easy to react when it came to anything he said.

His words. His smile. His laughter.

All of it trickled with a honey so sweet that it made your stomach ache and blood rush hot. A feeling that was so foreign after all of this time, yet you couldn’t help but want more. To get to talk to him, even if it was just him insulting your ex with low blows because he deserved it.

But his raw emotions. Him letting his guard down. His thoughtfulness.

It exuded the warmth of freshly ground cinnamon, something that had layers to it. Like a punch in the gut that surprised you in a way that was too profound to explain further. He didn’t even hesitate telling you about his parents and how troubling it felt to be given so much from them yet so little at the same time.

It felt like you were throwing a bunch of colors onto a canvas, not knowing where this was headed, maybe off a cliff or down a dead-end street. Or maybe back home with you where everything would be bliss. You could never really tell.

With Steve, it felt different, very complicated.

Perhaps you were getting too far ahead of yourself, after all, his actions weren’t too far fetched from the others who made you feel just as comfortable and made you laugh just as hard. Yet you didn’t feel this way towards Eddie or Robin and definitely not towards Nancy and Jonathan.

But feelings like these oftentimes just over complicated things, like this very moment right now where you shouldn’t be contemplating this in the first place.

It was too soon to ever know and you could bank on it being counterfeit. Something you’d look back on and laugh at because maybe it was better off with you and Steve being friends, just like everyone else. Nothing more, nothing less, just friends.

The afternoon glow cascaded your kitchen, a soft ochre hue bouncing off your window pane and showering your body in the warmth. Stevie Nicks’ voice sang through the space on your radio while you stirred the florals in the boiling water.

A few knocks echoed through your door, accompanied by various voices that grew louder. Looking over at the time on the microwave, it read “3:12p.m.” in bright neon green lights.

They were on time.

“Coming!” you shrieked out, cutting the music and lowering the heat on the stove before you walked over the door, undoing the latch and twisting the lock open.

With a wide grin, you stretched the door open, and their chatter subsided, turning their attention towards you, their eyes glittering with anticipation.

Your apartment wasn’t the biggest or the most lavish, but it was undeniably you. Just from the front door alone, your personality was oozing among the space—plants were displayed on a shelf near the door alongside a handmade pottery bowl for keys and small belongings that rested on a small table.

Straight ahead was your kitchen just as personalized as the entrance. The counters complimented with a delicate flower-patterned backsplash along with wooden cabinets you had stained to wash out the unpleasant color that came with the place originally.

It was so very much you.

“Come in! Come in!” You ushered them with animated welcoming arms.

The teens stepped through first, peering around as they traveled further into your home. Your living room another lively space with an olive green couch and swinging chair you splurged on and surprisingly hung all by yourself. And of course, unfinished and half-painted canvases decked the walls.

You met cheek to cheek with Robin and Nancy, the same fond welcome you had gotten accustomed to giving to your lady friends. Eddie and Jonathan took you in for a side hug, giving you a smile.

Steve was the last one to enter with a vase carrying a blend of lively flowers in one of his hands. He wore a striped polo, one of the many that you saw hanging in his closet, a pair of blue jeans, Nike’s Cortez’ that was totally his style, and of course his world famous smile.

“I’m so glad you made it.” You murmured, opening your arms as he walked into you and wrapped his arms snuggly across your back.

You squeeze your arms around him affectionately, inhaling the subtle aroma of mint and sandalwood that he wore. Something that you became familiar with since your last interaction where he walked you out to your car and said goodbye to you in the same way he was saying hello.

Of course, Steve had made it. There was no way he was going to miss it. Not after you graced his home with your presence. If anything, Steve was the one who rushed everyone into Eddie’s van to get here on time to see you.

He looked down at you, seeing your eyes flutter open as you both released the hug, yet never stepped back to open the proximity.

“Been looking forward to it all week,” he brought the hand holding the vase up, prompting them towards you with a grin, “…and these are for you.”

You let go, wrapping your fingertips around the glass, admiring the blues, pinks, whites, and greens of the arrangements. Summer flowers, the kind that bloom the entire season before spring comes along and cuts their time too short before winter arrives.

You had been busy for the past couple of weeks that you didn’t even realize that you had forgotten to take a trip to your local florist to pick up some of your favorites, nevertheless Steve’s would suffice.

Closing your eyes, you breathed in the citrusy sweet fragrance from the baby pink peonies in the bunch, then you opened them back up, orbs filled with gratitude as you stared at him.

“Steve, these are beautiful. Thank you!”

He shrugged his shoulders lightly, “Unfortunately, none of us are good bakers, so I’m glad you like it.”

Laughing, you gestured him towards the living room where everyone had already gotten themselves comfortable, while you made a quick pit stop towards the kitchen to place the flowers on the windowsill to get some sunshine.

Making your way back to everyone you saw Nancy and Jonathan sat on the couch looking worriedly at the teens, “Guys, don’t break anything!”

They both warned in unison, watching as the youngsters made a beeline to the comics and magazines you had lying around on the coffee table.

“No worries, I break something like every other day in here. Totally klutz!” You assured her with a wave, seeing her take a sigh of relief and Jonathan sending you a gracious nod.

“This place is cooler than you described!” Robin blurted, fidgeting her fingertips against each other as she continued to look around trying to spot some things that she remembered you telling her about over the phone.

Striding towards the cluttered coffee table, you noticed the kids not having much space to flip the books and magazines. You had spent the entire morning doing laundry and touching up a painting for your upcoming gallery that you had skipped cleaning the mess up before they had arrived.

You apologized, moving to pick up some paint bottles you had lying around “Sorry it’s a little messy…I was busy all morning,” placing them back in their designated bin underneath the table, while they waved you off, not bothered by the mess at all.

“Did you paint this today?” Will sought, setting down the comic and shuffling towards the easel where a semi-wet canvas laid.

You nodded, walking over and standing next to the piece, and holding your hands behind your back shyly.

“It’s supposed to look like the sunset from a few days ago.”

The sky filled with purple, orange, and yellow tinges to encapsulate the sundown you caught on the drive back to Roane from Hawkins.

“Did you use a photo as a reference?” Mike inquired, squinting his eyes to really take in the detail of the sky and hues used.

You shook your head, knocking your temple with your finger, “I have a really good photographic memory…once I see something I can usually replicate it when my brush hits the canvas.”

“How fascinating.” Will murmured, allowing himself to walk along the walls, looking at all your other paintings you had hanging up.

You clasped your hands together, a genuine sense of respite washing over you as you noticed everyone appearing at ease.

Robin was completely in her own world, fascinated with your overflowing vinyl collection that littered your tv stand.

Nancy and Jonathan were talking softly amongst themselves, smiling as they pointed and admired parts of your apartment, hoping they could have their own one day.

Eddie had taken a seat on the floor, back resting on the couch cushions as he flipped through a comic he picked up.

Steve looked to be just as comfortable, swinging slightly in the hanging chair admiring everyone else, happy that his friends were comfortable in the new space.

You clapped your hands together faintly, just enough for yourself to hear the celebration, “Just feel free to look around! I have a patio over there, but there’s nothing much out there except plants and a little table.”

They looked up to where your finger pointed at the sliding door on the other side of the living room, a cream meshed curtain pulled back to let in the natural sunlight.

Then, you turned your attention to Eddie, bending down a bit to tap his shoulder and point again at the terrace outside, “Eddie, I put out a small glass dish out there if you wanted to take a smoke, just in case.”

You noticed that he had excused himself to Steve’s backyard in order to take a smoke break, so you figured you get that set up for him just in case.

He flashed you a sincere smile, nodding “Thank you,”

You nodded, patting his shoulder before standing straight and excusing yourself to the kitchen to get things prepared.

Steve didn’t quite know if he was more so appreciating his friends finally opening up to a new place that wasn’t his own or seeing you being so welcoming to people you only met a few days ago. Nevertheless, it felt nice, a little warm feeling inside to know that you were so kind and open to them.

He also didn’t know if it made him a weirdo for wanting to stray wherever you went, getting up to follow you into the kitchen just to get a chance to talk to you without the lingering ears of his friends.

You stood there with one hand on your hip and the other stirring some mixture in the pot before turning off the heat completely.

“What’s this?” his soft voice whispered over your shoulder, producing you to bounce slightly before glancing back.

He had a small apologetic smile on his face, almost like a wince.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” Steve said as you shook your head, lips curled into a grin when you turned back to stir the liquid.

“Lavender and mint.” You bubbled, drawing the saucepan off the stove and holding it out, just enough to get a sniff of the aroma.

His hand cupped together in the air, wafting the sweet steam towards him, “And it’s tea?”

“Yeah!…Or you could refrigerate it and make it into lemonade, though I should’ve done this hours ago so that I could…you don’t think it’s too hot for tea do you?”

Your forehead scrunched up in woe, setting the pot back down and reaching to slide the window in front of you open. Sticking your hand out, you flipped it back and forth, trying to feel the air and its warmth.

It was totally warm out, but Steve wouldn’t let you know that. He just shook his head, following your actions and sticking his hand out to feel the air, “No, it’s like the perfect weather…I could go for some tea.”

You looked toward him, giving him a sickly sweet smile as you turned to the opposite side of the kitchen, heading into one of the cupboards to grab mugs.

“Let me help you.” Steve offered, taking the ones from your hand with ease and placing them onto the counter.

He didn’t allow you to grab the other seven remaining mugs, as he did it himself, lining them up perfectly so it would be easier to pour and serve.

“Do you like milk in your tea?” You questioned, padding over to the fridge and seizing every bottle of milk you had.

He thought for a second, eyebrows scrunched together, trying to recall a memory, but he was sure that the last time he had milk and tea was when he attended one of his father's boring business conferences when he was a child.

“I’ve never tried it, is it any good?” Steve asked, leaning against the counter’s edge to watch you clutch the mason jars against your chest.

You smiled with a nod, fingers holding up one of the glass jars you had labeled, “almond” before placing them all right next to the mugs.

“You make your own milk?” He looked surprised, picking up the jar and inspecting the liquids that looked store-bought.

“It’s super easy and because it doesn’t take my time I just make a new glass every week.” You told him as you waltzed over to the boiler, picking up the pot before cautiously pouring a serving into each mug.

He watched you closely, noting how you bit your lip in concentration, making sure each mug got the same amount of tea, not wanting anyone to have less or too much than they wanted. You smiled to yourself, eventually letting go of your bottom lip when the last mug was filled perfectly, spinning around in your sock covered feet to place the remaining liquid back on the stove.

He did his best to hide his smile, endeared with your behavior for something as simple as pouring some tea. You rubbed your hands together, finally turning back to him and nodding your chin at the mugs.

“You should get the first taste!”

“You sure?” He asked, already reaching for the ridiculously adorable strawberry mug that you usually always drank out of.

You giggled, bowing your head as he finally took a sip. His lips smacked against each other to search the flavor profile in an attempt to impress you with the enhanced taste buds that he clearly didn’t possess, but somehow he was still able to make you laugh, which was enough.

“It’s sweet but still a little minty—what milk do you usually go for?” He sat his cup down, fingers brushing over the jars, looking over the different milks you had.

Oat. Almond. Cashew.

“Oat, it’s the most neutral out of all of them and doesn’t disturb the flavor, in my opinion.” You responded, letting your elbow rest onto the counter to place your chin in your palm.

You watched him crack open the jar, pouring a tiny bit into his cup before looking at you, silently asking if it was enough. The jutting of your chin and smile prompted him to pour a little more, just until you squeaked and you both laughed before he sealed the jar shut.

The two of you watched the milk flow over the once sheer lilac brew as if it was going to stir itself. Only remembering now, you gasped dramatically, moving up to pull open the drawers on the opposite side of the kitchen in order to grab a handful of spoons.

“Sorry, I totally forgot!” You apologized, handing one to Steve as he snickered, shaking his head while he stirred his drink.

“Don’t have to apologize. You’re too nice of a host already.” He encouraged you, taking another sip of the tea and giving you wide eyes when it rushed down his larynx.

“Holy shit…this is good!” He said surprisingly, as you smirked, moving towards him to make yourself a cup.

Your fingers grabbed onto the vintage basketball mug before pouring in your own splash of oat milk. “Oh! I forgot to mention, I like to add honey sometimes. Do you wanna try?”

You tiptoed, attempting to grab the bear shaped bottle of honey, and Steve had easily raised his arm up, clutching it for you.

“Thank you.” You whispered softly, taking it from him.

Steve was just happy to help, beaming warmly and watching you squeeze a tiny bit of honey into your cup and he happily did the same when you passed him the bottle.

You both took a sip at the same time, smiling tightly as you watched each other before swallowing. It was silly. So the two of you chuckled. Shaking your head at how silly it was.

“I didn’t mean to stare at you while you…sorry, that was weird of me.” You palmed your forehead dumbly, closing your eyes with a slight smile as Steve chuckled and hummed something that sounded like a “no” as he took another sip of the sweetness.

He shook his head, waving your worries away as he kept his hand on the handle of the mug when the other came down to rest on his hip, “I didn’t mean to stare either…I just didn’t want to look away from your tea-drinking skills.”

You cocked your head to the side, letting both sets of hands wrap around your warm mug as you rose a brow at him.

“My tea drinking skills?”

He smirked, nodding confidently, “Yeah, you know it’s a real art to not spill all over yourself. People do it all the time.”

There was a playful look coating your features, your eyes squinting shut as the smile took over before your laugh, shaking your head ridiculously at him.

“You’re impressed way too easily, Steve.”

Maybe it was the fact that you both were sipping tea in the middle of summer or perhaps the airflow in your kitchen was poor, but either way it didn’t take much for you both to notice the fervor that developed. You two were only inches apart. The space could be closed just by one sway towards each other’s bodies.

The lump in his throat bobbed as he swallowed, watching you take another sip as you tore your eyes away with the heat rushing to the apples of your cheeks. You looked pretty like this; he was sure you always did, but something about you here in your own kitchen surrounded by everything that was you felt just about right.

“I can’t help it…” You snapped your eyes back up at him, seeing him lift his shoulder with a placid grin on his face as he spoke.

“I’m always going to be impressed when it comes to you. Even when it’s just tea and a pretty—”

“What’s this!?”

The two of you jerked your eyes to Robin, leading the rest of the pact behind her into your kitchen. You swore he was just about to call you a pretty girl, certain even, but there were a million things he could’ve said.

Pretty mug.

Pretty kitchen.

Pretty apartment.

Pretty girl.

Pretty you.

No! He wasn’t. There was no way.

You quickly leaned off the counter, gesturing to them as Steve scooted over to make way for everyone else. They all picked up a mug, conversing amongst each other as they began drinking and popping open the milk and honey, serving themselves.

“It’s Lavender mint tea! I also have homemade oak, almond, and cashew milk so hopefully none of you are allergic…but if you want, I could run to the store and pick up some whole milk, it’s only down the road anyway so it won’t be long—“

Steve could sense the anxiety in your ramble, unsure if it was because of him and the line he had casted out towards you, or maybe because of the sudden intrusion of his friends that made it feel like you two had been caught when in actuality you both weren’t doing anything wrong.

Steve halted the jabber, resting a reassuring hand on your shoulder as everyone helped themselves to the tea, not aware of what you had been saying.

“None of them are allergic, so you’re fine…don’t need to go all out for some kids from Hawkins,” he looked around at his friends who were too busy to care, “everything you’re doing is perfect.”

You clutched the mug in your hands, taking a sip again feeling your heart thump at his words. You didn’t understand what sorcery was going on, but you did know that Steve Harrington had a way with words and every sweet thing that left his lips made you feel like you were floating.

Steve swore that he could see a pink blush creeping onto your face, but the mug you had tilted closer to your face hid it. It was cute; he didn’t know why you took so weirdly to compliments. It was something that he noticed right off the bat when you two first met. The way that if anyone said something nice about you, you felt the need to downplay it or not respond at all.

But Steve would keep complimenting you because you truly were someone that deserved to know their worth. So he smiled, continuing to watch the way you tried to hide your blush, while he sipped on his tea.

Robin wasn’t clueless to the two of you, sure she didn’t have the best timing, but she could read the both of you. The way you and he would stare at each other for too long and even how you’d both stray to each other if the other ran off somewhere else.

She knew where this was going.

Coughing lightly to clear her throat, she tapped you on the shoulder.

“Do you mind showing me the bathroom?”

You nodded, a tight smile on your face as you brushed past Steve, but not without your arms grazing before you led her out of the kitchen and into the opposite hallway where your bedroom and the bathroom was.

“It’s in here,” reaching forward and twisting the door open to reveal the bathroom.

Robin smirked wickedly, seizing one of your arms and pulling you into the restroom before shutting the door.

You shrieked and snorted all in one, startled at her action and trying to steady the mug in your hand so you didn’t spill any.

“Robs!”

She pressed her back against the door, a woozy smile on her face as she widened her eyes at you, “What the hell was that in there?!”

Your eyes widened, and you shook your head frantically, “Oh my god, shush, he could hear you! It was nothing!”

Robin laughed, as you tugged her a ways bit from the door, hoping that no one, and especially Steve, didn't hear the conversation that was happening inside here. She opted to close the toilet lid, sitting on top of it while you leaned against the counter, still sipping on your tea to avoid talking about this, but Robin seemed to have no plans to stop.

“It didn’t look like nothing! You guys were like milliliters apart, and his eyes were all dreamy and full of stars when he was staring at you!”

Her hands twiddled around in the air, trying to show you what she meant, and you knew exactly what she meant because you saw his orbs in the same light. Like an ocean of stars and glitter every time he had his eyes on you long enough for you to catch it—to make a wish on them.

“His eyes are always dreamy.” You countered out loud, instantly regretting that statement as Robin clasped a hand over her mouth to stifle her squeal.

You bit back a smile, turning your head the other way so she couldn’t see the way you were absolutely blushing out of your mind.

“I knew it! I could feel the tension in that kitchen and I just knew it! And the other day? You two just couldn’t stop looking at each other. You guys are totally crushing and are gonna fall in love!”

God, you couldn’t even remember when’s the last time you actually had a crush on someone attainable. All the guys you liked were fictional, from books, tv shows, and movies, because at least those guys were mesmerizing and actually respectable people. But Steve felt like that too, that one out of a million that you could actually see and have the privilege of being around let alone talking to.

He was so out of your league, there was no possible way he could’ve meant what he was going to say as a genuine romantic compliment. He was just being friendly. Just being the same Steve that Robin described to you before you had even met him. The same Steve who graciously covered for you when you didn’t want to talk about your asshole ex boyfriend.

The Steve that had you thinking about him on your drive back home wishing you were watching the sunset with him—

You heard the snap of her fingers, before feeling her stand up and make her way in front of you where she stood and clutched your shoulders, causing you to look at her. Shaking your head, you sighed heavily, finally prompting her a response after those grueling composing seconds.

“He’s just nice, Robin, and I’m sure he’s being kind because we just met. I barely know him! You said it yourself, remember? Steve’s a nice guy.” You said seriously, setting down your mug on the open counter space as she pouted and shook her head.

“No, I mean yeah, Steve is nice, but he’s being abnormally kind to you. The kind of kindness where it’s all sappy and lovey. It kinda makes me want to throw up, but also makes me want to kick my legs like an idiot because seeing him this way after all this time is actually nice.”

She explained with a complicated look that quickly turned into smiles and fondness, realizing that Steve was actually putting himself out there and you just were too foreign to it all. She watched as you took another deep breath, letting your shoulders stoop against her hold as you held your head in your hands.

“I stood there like an idiot Robs. He said something really nice to me and I…I just stood there! Gosh, he probably thinks I'm totally dumbass or something.”

She scoffed, shaking her head, giving your skin an encouraging squeeze when you finally looked up at her.

“Trust me, Steve doesn’t think you’re an idiot or a dumbass, or anything bad. He's genuinely so enthralled by you. And this is the same guy whose attention span is shorter than mine, so that’s saying quite a lot if, after the first hangout he’s already asking more about you.”

Your eyebrows curled into a frown before raising curiously, silently asking Robin to tell you what she meant before she licked her lips, eyes darting around the bathroom trying to pick one out of the many scenarios where Steve had asked about you.

“Umm, okay, this one!” She decided confidently, nodding her head and furrowing her brows roughly to mimic Steve earlier this morning at the florist.

“Which flowers do you think she likes best? She’s like super into florals, right? Is she allergic to anything? Jesus Christ, I don’t want to show up with flowers that she’s allergic to. That’s like fucking embarrassing Robs. Okay, you know what, I’m just gonna pick the prettiest flowers and hope she doesn’t end up sneezing or anything.”

You snickered at her impression of Steve’s voice and mannerisms, feeling your heart swarm as you thought it was pretty sweet that he was taking the time to ask about you, let alone think about putting in so much effort into those flowers he had brought for you.

“That’s actually really adorable,” you admitted, while Robin smiled and tilted her head, watching you thoughtfully.

She removed her grip for your shoulders, hands softly clapped while she shrieked while you rolled your eyes playfully at her delight. “See! I’m like cupid or something! Just yennooo…try throwing out a compliment and if it feels weird or wrong, then you’ll know. But I think we both know how it’s gonna go!”

“Sure cupid,” You rolled your eyes lovingly before going deep again, “I just don’t want to mess things up, alright? If somehow we’re both reading this wrong, I don’t want to lose him as a friend. It’s gonna put me in an awkward position if he doesn’t feel the same, so just for my sake, let’s just keep this conversation between us?”

You held out your pinky finger towards her, where she immediately crossed her fingers over her heart and proceeded to hook her pinky with yours.

“Promise!” she vowed, kissing her thumb as you giggled and did the same to yours.

When you two unhooked fingers, she crossed her arms and looked back at the toilet then at you, “I still really gotta pee, so…”

You tsked, chuckling lightly as you picked up your mug and gave her a thumbs up before exiting the bathroom to give her some privacy. When you walked down the hallway back into your living room, everyone looked relaxed, sitting on the couch or just hanging around the floor enjoying their cups of homemade tea while they talked amongst themselves.

Steve was in his previous seat, rocking back and forth in the hanging chair still nursing his lavender mint tea. When you came into view, he flashed you a smile, almost a questioning one, asking if everything was alright considering you were just in the bathroom with his best friend for quite some time. You assured him a nod and a small curl of your lips, ushering him to nod back.

That god he didn’t seem phased by the previous kitchen interaction.

“What’s that?” You requested, settling on the carpeted floor where Will and the rest of the teenagers were sitting near the coffee table flipping through a book.

Will glanced over with a shrug, sliding the book towards you, giving you a chance to see the art that covered the pages. You were amazed, setting down your mug and pulling the book closer as you looked into each stroke of the pencil and all the shading.

“Will, these are beautiful.” You nudged him casually with your elbow, making him smile, while he watched you flip through the next few pages where more illustrations filled the sheet.

One of the pages that caught your eye was a figure, one dressed in a cloak with a pointy wizard hat, and it looked a bit like Will. Maybe a self-portrait of some kind for that fantasy game he and the boys played.

“They’re not as good as yours, but I wanted to bring it so I could show you what I’ve been working on.” He told you, while you frowned and reached to rest your hand onto his, giving it a squeeze.

“No, these are amazing. I mean, this is just incredible…when I was your age all I could draw were stick figures.”

The laugh that Will let out made you smile and so did the reinforcing words coming from his friends, egging him on and telling him how awesome all of his sketches were. You knew that art was subjective, and even when you yourself were hard on the work that you made, you also had to find it within yourself to be kind.

And you wanted Will to feel the same way, because he truly had a talent for art and you wished you had someone when you were younger who encouraged you to pursue it sooner.

“I actually have a bunch of spare paints and brushes, and other supplies that you can take home.” You told him.

Shifting to your knees as you began reaching under the coffee table where some storage bins were located, filled with some paints you hadn’t yet used. You began pulling them out one by one, setting them on the coffee table and talking to Will about each of the brands and colors.

From Steve’s place, he could see more of you than Will whose back was facing him. He saw the way your nose crinkled distastefully as you expressed your dislike of certain paint brands because of the opacity and smell. Then how quickly the look of disgust was replaced by a bark of hilarity as Will told you something about his mom brewing a fresh pot of coffee to battle the horrible smell of some of the paints he used.

Steve hoped it didn’t make him a creep for always watching you, but it was out of admiration than it was out of flirtation. He preferred watching you because there was a way about you—an ease, almost one that even yourself didn’t quite notice, but he did.

To him, the best way to describe the feeling he got around you was almost like a secret garden.

One filled with every kind of flower blooming under the radiating sun. Trees growing so tall with birds settling on the stretching branches. The air the perfect kind of cool where bees and butterflies pass through as they soar through the sky. A calm waterfall trickling into a pond that calls out to everyone to jump in freely.

For Steve, it’s like jumping in and getting lost in you…exactly as he’s doing right now.

In simpler terms, people gravitated towards you, not solely for your sweetness or kindness, but for how genuine you actually were.

Even in Steve’s own experiences, he knew he was guilty of just nodding along and pretending to understand what any of the teens were talking to him about.

Video games. Computers. Poetry. Skateboarding. Dungeons and Dragons. Painting. Boyfriends. Girlfriends. Crushes. Whatever it was; just going in one ear and out the other while they kept talking and talking and talking.

But not you.

If anything, you immersed yourself into their world even when it wasn’t something that you could fully wrap your head around like that fantasy game. Yet you never failed to ask questions in order to learn more about it, but it was mostly because you loved to see their faced light up when talking about something that they enjoyed without needing to worry about sounding nerdy.

He wished he could talk to you about anything, and he knew he could, but just not right now. Not with everyone sitting here when all he wanted to do was tell you how down to earth you were and how it was even impossible for you to be real.

But indeed real you were meeting his eyes for only a split second before you turned it all back to Will as he spoke.

“Do you think I could try to paint something?” Will asked you timidly, almost anxious of being a nuance, but you bubbled out an excited yelp, scrambling to your feet as you rushed to your bedroom in order to grab a blank canvas that you were sure you weren’t going to use.

“Where is it?” You puffed, hauling open your closet door in hopes of you finding it in some bin that you stored all your excess supplies in.

A knock sounded on the doorway wall, prompting you to call out a reply instead of actually looking at who it was, just assuming that it was Will or one of the other kids.

“Need any help?”

Steve’s voice had you ceasing all movements, encouraging you to take a deep breath and realize that the whole kitchen thing was over. Right now, you needed to get it together and not make things weird. You exhaled softly, peeping back from behind your closet to see him leaning against your door frame with a small smile before you nodded.

“It’s so bare in here.”

He joked, looking around the room where the only piece of artwork hanging was one above your bed. A total lunar eclipse with its blood-red moon shining bright against a dark sky with tiny stars scatters around it.

You gasped subsequently, finding the smaller canvas and standing up from the ground, “I like that my bedroom is sorta away from all the chaos out there.”

Your hands motioned to the outside of the door, making circles and rolling your eyes, as if the living room was such a chaotic mess, when it really wasn’t. He chuckled, shaking his head before raising his brow at you.

“Anything else we need?”

Yeah, some fucking composure, Steve, because now I’m thinking of a compliment to spit out so we can get a feel of whatever the fuck we have going on.

You nodded, dropping the canvas on your bed and strolling over to the bottom drawers of your dresser where more supplies were stored.

“Yeah, some new brushes and a paint pallet for him.”

He watched you, totally oblivious of your nerves and instead in awe of how considerate you were being, by lending Will new items rather than just letting him borrow what you already had.

“You’re going to spoil the kid rotten.” He quipped, seeing as you couldn’t pick between two different shades of blue paint tubes and instead, just threw both of them into the pile you were amassing for Will.

You looked up, looking as innocent as ever and shaking your head, more than happy to spoil the kid.

“These have just been sitting here waiting to be used and Will will probably use it more than I ever will.”

He chuckled, coming down beside you, kneeling on the floor to help gather the paint tubes in his hands knowing you wouldn’t be able to carry it all by yourself. Your fingers brushed each other as you both grabbed a few, eyes flickering up to each other with a quiet laugh, continuing on before he spoke just as delicately.

“You’re really too sweet.”

Now’s the opening…just be smooth and throw it out there.

“I’d like to think I am,” you replied, snickering to yourself, when on the inside you were screaming.

He looked to you, seeing as though you tried to brush it off, “No, really, I mean it, you’re probably the nicest person I’ve ever met…no one has ever put this much thought into a hang out before.”

You looked almost smitten under his gaze, tucking your cheek into your shoulder and trying to play it off as a shrug despite the smile he could see seeping upon your face. He found it cute. Though he didn’t know why you tried to hide it, he wanted to make you smile and make you feel good about yourself.

“You really think so?” You asked unabashedly, following his head nod with a grin.

“I’d go as far as saying you’re the sweetest girl I think I’ll ever meet.”

Play it cool.

“You must not have met many girls then?” You stood up, hearing his chuckle as he followed your lead.

“Don’t really want to meet any other ones anymore.” He countered.

Strike and get a feel of it.

You grabbed the canvas off your bed as you swooped by. “Robin wasn’t kidding when she said you were charming.”

“She said that?” He said comically, and you giggled nodding and walking out of your bedroom with him trailing behind you.

Throw it out there.

“Yeah, which isn’t totally surprising, considering the fact that you’re pretty sweet yourself.”

There was a glint of teasing to your voice, not that it was too different from the sweetness that dripped from it regularly, but he could tell there was something more there. He didn’t want to think too hard about it, not wanting to ruin the moment with his never-ending questions, so instead he clung to it, hoping he’d get the chance to hear something like that coming from only you ever again.

“Here you go, Will,” you crooned cheerfully, entering the living room with Steve trailing behind you with the paints.

Will’s eyes lit up with excitement, sitting up on his knees as you two placed the items on the coffee table. You sat beside him while Steve went back to the chair, watching in on you explaining to Will each of the pigments and their properties.

This time he wasn’t doing a lot of listening, his mind still caught up in your words and if it meant what he thought it did. He was going to call you a pretty girl back in the kitchen, that is before Robin and the rest of the gang had stumbled in to stop him.

Was that compliment supposed to be a response to his?

Was what you said even a compliment?

Of course it was…hell you could’ve you said he reminded you of a golden retriever and he’d take it with pride and brag to everyone that a pretty girl compared him to a cuddly animal.

But was he just maybe reading into it too much?

You were always dishing out compliments to everyone, saying how great and talented they were, but not with the undertone you had spoken to him with. Perhaps he had misheard you and now he was doing all of this overthinking just to end off at the same place you both started, which was friends.

Just friends.

“Steve, could you come with me and Eddie to the kitchen, please?”

Robin and Eddie both stood, looking at him sharply as they shuffled into the kitchen, signaling for Steve to follow their lead.

He furrowed his brows, standing up quickly and heading for the kitchen, “What’s up?”

“You’re being fucking weird!” Eddie's whisper shouted, pointing an accusing finger at him.

Steve looked taken aback, looking at his two friends puzzled. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Don’t think I can’t tell when you’re thinking too hard. What’s the matter?” Robin softly prodded, crossing her arms across her chest.

“W-what? No, I’m fine…I’m just thinking…” He said, avoiding Robin’s knowing eyes as he looked at Eddie instead.

Eddie rolled his eyes, “You keep following her everywhere, yet you’re not making a move. Everyone in that damn living room can feel the tension between you guys.”

“There is no tension!” Steve claimed quietly, peering back and making sure you still were laser focused on the painting.

He looked back at his two friends, resting his hands on his hips, “I’m being friendly alright. I want to make her feel comfortable and help out the same way she did. That’s all.”

Robin threw an unconvinced look his way, before gesturing towards Eddie, “When you met Eddie, you made fun of him for nicknaming his guitar sweetheart, it’s not the same.”

“Because Eddie isn’t a girl!” Steve argued, only causing Eddie to raise a brow, holding a hand over his heart pretending he had just been wounded.

“Are you saying I’m ugly, Harrington?”

“Oh my god,” Steve grumbled, rubbing his fingers over his temples.

Robin reached forward, grabbing him by the shoulders and forcing him to look at her, “Dude…stop thinking so hard about it. If you like her, just be cool about it. Ask her out if you want. I don’t know…j-just do anything besides what you were doing out there because you looked like you were in pain and it was just weird.”

Did he really looked pained?

Steve blinked, trying to process debating if he wanted to ask Robin if he really looked that bad or for some fucking advice to man up and ask you out already. He didn’t know what he was avoiding, knowing that usually if he liked a girl, he’d just go in and take the shot to ask, but with you, he just couldn’t.

There was too much to lose if something went south.

His thinking was cut short by Eddie who began snapping his fingers, pointing victoriously like he and Robin cracked some sort of secret Russian code or something.

“We were right!” He started poking at Robin’s cheek as she grumbled yet bit back a smile.

Eddie pointed towards Steve again, not bothering to hide the smirk on his face, “What’d I tell you? Harrington is usually so quick to slide on in and ask a girl out and now suddenly he meets a gorgeous down-to-earth-painter-baker-girl and now he’s whipped!”

He drummed his fingers on Robin’s shoulder, making her laugh before turning to her best friend, suddenly bright pink in the cheeks.

“You must really really like her if you’re not using those god awful pickup lines to make her fall for you.” She said half jokingly.

Steve shrugged, moving away from the two and instead reached for his tea mug and taking a sip of the now semi-warm liquid. “Maybe…I—I dunno…I just don’t want to rush things because she knows about King Steve and I don’t want her to get the wrong idea.”

Robin tilted her head, looking apologetic, “She told you I told her about that?”

He shook his head, looking at her dully, “No, but she did say you said I was charming, which pretty much gives it away…also you’re such a terrible liar.”

“Am not!” She gasped, lightly punching him in the arm.

Steve didn’t look so convinced, arguing back without hitting her, “Yeah you are!”

“Fuckin’ kill me,” Eddie sighed, rocking his head at the two.

“Is everything ok?” Your cool speech came ringing in the small kitchen, making the three of them stutter, trying to not look so suspicious.

“Y-yeah, fine! Umm, they were just wondering if you had more tea!” Steve lied, turning his eyes back to Robin and widening them, signaling for her to let go of his shoulders, which she did.

He made his way over to the stove, peeking into the pot that had only a bit of tea left.

“Oh, I can make some more if you’d like?” You responded, moving further into the kitchen to meet Steve at the stove.

With your back turned to Robin and Eddie, they both motioned their way out of the space to give him more time with you, but not before shooting him a suggestive wink.

“Uh, no, no need for that. I’ll just take what’s left…Eddie and Robin have ummm, small bladders! I don’t want them complaining the whole way home later.”

He closed his eyes shut, shaking his head to himself while you attempted to stifle a laugh reaching for his mug and pouring the rest of the tea into his cup.

“Here you go,” you said, turning to him with his mug filled.

He flashed you an apologetic smile, saying a quiet “thank you” while you shake it off.

“Need anything else? A snack?”

His ears heard you loud and clear, but his eyes were stuck on the living room where Eddie and Robin were wildly gesturing their hands in the air, mouthing, “Just do it!”

For my friends to stop being dumbasses is what he wanted to say, but he shook his head, tearing his eyes away from the two friends and giving his sights back to you.

“No, this is all. Thanks again.” He reassured you, earning a smile as you both walked out of the kitchen and back to the living room.

Taking your place between Max and Will who were painting, you were able to get a glimpse of the work they had completed for the short time you were gone. Max had wanted to join in after getting tired of the comic she was reading.

“Oh, this is amazing—shoot, I’m so sorry!”

You weren’t quite sure why you were here apologizing at the fact that Max had accidentally turned towards you with a paintbrush in her hand, smearing gold all over the front of your shirt, but here you were.

“Shit, it’s my fault. I’m so sorry.” The red head said, clutching a hand over her mouth as you shook your head.

“No, it’s my fault! I shouldn’t have snuck up like that. It’s okay, the paint comes off easily in the wash, I’ll go get changed!” You yelped, getting up and jogging down the hallway into your room.

Max turned to Steve, glaring at him.

“Really? Eddie and Robin have small bladders? That’s the best excuse you came up with?”

He scratched the back of his neck, leaning forward, “W-what?”

“Max just bought us some time to tell you how weird you’re being.” Lucas smirked, glancing at Max who looked proud of her quick idea.

Dustin snorted in agreement, finally tearing his eyes away from his comic, “If you’re gonna keep staring at her and following her around like a minion you might as well as her out!”

“I’m not asking her out on a date with all of you here!” Steve countered, staring at all of his friends like they were insane.

Robin rolled her eyes, looking at Nancy, then him, “You asked Nancy to have six kids that time we went road tripping a few years ago. What difference does that make now?”

Mike groaned, covering his face in discomfort remembering overhearing that conversation. “I didn’t have to be reminded of my sister hypothetically having six babies with Steve.”

Jonathan snapped his eyes to Nancy who widened her eyes at Robin, “When was this?” He asked.

Nancy shook her head, brushing him off, “A long time ago, so it doesn’t matter. And they’re right, you and her obviously have chemistry, so why not just stop wasting time and get it over with?”

“No, we don’t,” Steve shook his head, not sounding as convincing as he’d like.

Nance tilted her head, giving him those doubtful eyes, “Really? Do you actually believe that for one second?”

“You keep following her around like a lovesick puppy.” Jonathan admitted, forgetting about the stupid six children thing and saving it for another day, seeing as though Steve really expected that they all couldn’t see right through you and him.

“Every time I look over at her to see if I’m doing something right, you’re in my peripheral ogling at her like a piece of art.” Will responded, tearing his eyes away from his canvas.

“It’s kinda cute.” El said with a giddy smile.

“She’s always smiling at you for some reason.” Max continued.

“Which is funny considering that you’re not that pretty to look at,” Eddie quipped, earning a scowl from Harrington.

Robin rolled her eyes at the men’s consistent banter, knowing she had to work fast before you came back out.

“What we’re trying to say is that she clearly likes you and you like her. You can try denying how you feel, but we know how you get when you start crushing on a girl, so don’t think your lying is going to fool any of us.”

She told him, which would've been reassuring, but asking a girl out in front of a crowd of people wasn’t something that sounded like a good time for him or you. It was just going to put you in that sticky spot with all the attention and most likely to say yes to save him the embarrassment.

He couldn’t do that to you.

“Well, I’m still not asking her out with you guys down my throat. Her and I are just friends. I need to get to know her first. Hell, I don’t even know what her favorite color is or if she likes sports? These are things I should know before I ask a girl out!”

Who was Steve kidding and when did he start caring about frivolous shit like that? You and him could have nothing in common and still he would fawn over you and snowball this crush into something more. Even going as far to turn himself into Picasso's reincarnation if that would make you like him better.

“I’m back!” You grinned, sauntering down the corridor sporting none other than a cropped Red Sox t-shirt.

Steve’s favorite team, of course.

Eddie grunted, already on the tip of making a subtle note, just to see if he was right.

“Nice shirt, but didn’t they lose—“

“Oh, don’t even get me started! The game was totally rigged and if Buckner didn’t mess up that inning, Boston would’ve taken that championship home.” You said intensely, taking your seat between Max and Will once again.

Everyone’s eyes turned to Steve’s, watching them muddle with even more affection than before. You were his total dream girl. He knew it, and so did everyone else.

“Everything alright?” You chuckled after the short seconds of silence.

Grunts and hums came from everybody attempting to not fixate their gaze solely between you and Steve, but it was a bit tough considering the stare that Steve had locked on you.

“Peachy, just trying to remember that date because it was so memorable, and I wished that someone here would make a move and remember it.”

Robin emphasized her words sharply, snapping her fingers to get Steve’s attention in order for him to stop staring at you before you caught him.

Eddie joined in, coughing loudly to “clear” his throat only stopping when Steve finally snapped his eyes away from you.

“Yeah, you know what’s so funny about dates is that they mark something special and really help solidly the—“

You lifted your eyes from Will’s painting just in time as Steve shook it off the stare.

“October 27th 1986 but the series went from October 18th through the 27th if we want to get specific.”

Holy fuck. Holy shit. Holy Mother Of God.

“I—I gotta go to the bathroom!” Steve spat out speedily, resting his mug on the cramped coffee table and shooting up.

You creased your brows together, watching him trudge down the hallway, clumsily, “The first door on your right—“

“Right! Yep! Got it!” He called out, reaching for the handle and nearly propelling himself through the door and slamming it shut.

You tilted your head, letting out a grunt before turning your eyes to Robin, “I—Is he okay?”

She nodded with a broad smile, sitting up from the couch and knocking Eddie’s arm with her elbow, “He’s actually the one with a small bladder so…yenno, when nature calls am I right?”

“He and the toilet are gonna be awhile, a date if you will,” Eddie snorted, making you choke on a laugh before giving them a slow head nod and turning your attention back to Will and Max.

This was by the far the longest time Steve had ever spent staring at himself in the mirror for something not related to his looks. This time around, he was staring for another reason, trying to find the Steve within him that would actually pull the trigger and ask you out already. It was clear as day that he liked you. He didn’t need anymore confirmation of it, he knew his feelings.

But he also knew you were worth more than this and more than the old Steve.

The old Steve could easily swoon you with a pickup line and flirty eyes: the King Steve that you had heard about from Robin. But that wasn’t who Steve was anymore and it sure as hell wasn’t the version of himself he wanted to be when he was with you.

He wanted to be better, to show you that you actually did deserve someone with character within them. Even after all this improvement and trying to actually search for a relationship that consisted of love rather than just sex, he didn’t know if he was good enough for you. If you’d even want to go on a date with him.

He wouldn’t know if he didn’t take a chance.

But what if all you wanted was to be friends?

Would that ruin your friendship with Robin?

Could you possibly imagine yourself ever being friends with her again after her best friend made a pass at you?

He liked you, but he loved Robin and knew this friendship meant a lot to her. The last thing he wanted to do was jeopardize it because of a crush even if Robin was fully in support of it.

Maybe you and him were supposed to be just friends.

“Steve! Dude, c’mon we gotta go.” Dustin’s voice came from the outside of the door, knocking firmly against the wood.

He furrowed his brows, unlocking the door and pulling it open, “Go? Go where? We just got here.”

Dustin sighed, gesturing back to the living room where you were helping the others clean up, “Nance called home and Mrs. Wheeler said that Holly had an allergic reaction. We gotta get home ASAP!”

“So why can’t Nancy and Mike go home and we stay?” Steve hissed more harshly than intended.

The boy shook his head in incredulity, crossing his arms over his chest, “Need I remind you we drove here in Eddie’s van? We all need to leave together or else you’re stranded in Roane, but by the sound of it, you wouldn’t mind at all.”

Dustin wore a knowing sneer while Steve bit down on his tongue, not really wanting to lash out on the kid who was pointing out the very obvious feelings that he did a horrible job at hiding.

“C’mon lover boy, we got a hive covered six-year-old who needs the hospital and we gotta house sit for a few hours.” Dustin said, finally patting Steve on the arm before turning on his heel and heading back to the living room.

He followed closely behind, seeing everyone begin the file out the door where you hugged each of them.

“I hope everything is ok with your sister! Please, just don’t hesitate to call if there’s anything I can do to help!”

You tightly wrapped your arms around Nance, closing your eyes as you rubbed her back affectionately and heard her murmur a “thank you so much,” before pulling away.

“Bye! Thanks for having us, again!” Dustin saluted with a toothy grin before you giggled and hugged him.

Steve was the last one left in the doorway with you, keeping his hands to his side not knowing if he should open up to hug you first or not.

“Oh! Hold on, don’t go anywhere. I gotta give you something!” You pointed your finger at him and jogged through your apartment into your room, coming out a few seconds later with his yellow pullover folded neatly in your hands.

You held it out to him, wearing a smile on your face. “I washed it and ironed out the wrinkles. Sorry if it smells like honeysuckle, it’s just the detergent I use!”

His heart ached even more knowing this thing would smell like you until the next time it’d be washed. Only fueling the crush he had and taking every ounce in his body not to jump at the opportunity to tell you how down to earth you were and how much he’d like to take you out on a date if you’d let him. But instead, he could only muster out a few sentences.

“T-thanks! I won’t mind at all…and thanks for having us over, even if it was only for a little.” He laughed, watching you shake your head.

“No, it was really fun having your guys over, and umm, I invited everyone to come to my art gallery this weekend, and it would really mean a lot if you could make it, if you’re free.” You said tenderly, rubbing your hand over your opposite arm watching a smile break on his face.

He nodded, “I’m free this weekend so I’ll definitely be there.”

“Thanks! Robin has the directions and whatnot.” You spoke, nodding your head as you both stood there for a second totally forgetting that he had to go until Eddie beeped his horn.

You snapped out of your stance, instantly apologizing, “Shit, sorry! Okay, I’ll see you!’

Steve wasn’t at all prepared for your arms to wrap around his neck, hugging him closely, feeling your breath fan again his skin as he hurriedly draped his arms across your back, squeezing you tight, “Y-yeah! See you then…”

Pulling away from Steve felt difficult just as hard as it would be knowing that you wouldn’t be able to see him for a while. It didn’t help that you and him didn’t get to speak as much as you’d like because you really wanted to get to know him more. To ask him about life in Hawkins and how he liked Roane so far.

It just didn’t help that you felt like you crossed a line after telling Steve that he was “pretty sweet himself.”

Was that too forward of you?

Maybe it was too corny?

Did it throw him off?

It probably did throw him off. It had to have been that. After you replied with that sad excuse of what was supposed to be a compliment, Steve started acting weird. Strolling off to the kitchen with Robin and Eddie, probably telling them all about how you sucked at flirting. Even excusing himself to the bathroom in a haste when he clearly didn’t have to use it.

For a minute, you thought that you really did blow your chances with him, but it all drifted away when you caught the smile and wave that he threw at you from the passenger seat of Eddie’s van.

He looked happy, yet sad to be taking off, kinda like how you looked after needing to leave the Harrington house. You just didn’t want to get your hopes up living for something that had a small probable chance of ever coming to life. There was no telling what mood you and Steve would be feeling the next time you saw each other, and you didn’t want to jinx it before it was too late.

You just closed the door, pressing your back against the wood knowing that everything in your system was dying for the moment you and Steve would see each other next.

For now, you’d have to pad across your apartment thinking about him wherever you strayed, wishing he was following close behind like he always was. But he wasn’t.

The only trace he left behind was his scent lingering in the air and the strawberry cup that was yours, but you didn’t mind if it belonged to him now.

Truly, you were screwed, living for the hope of it all.

💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated 💌

a/n: chapter one is here!!! ive been working on this for a while and was actually supposed to make this series only 3 parts but i love it so much (and tumblr is laggy lately) that i wanted to split them up into more parts and ill also be opening my inbox to blurbs for what im coining "glitch universe" very soon!!! i hope you all love this chapter and stick around for the rest!! a big thanks to effie again for helping me proof-read and hyping me up through all this!!!! happy reading to all!!!!! 🍰🍓🧸

taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @astolenkiss @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @scoopshxrrington @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss

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