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thiswaytwoinfinity · 8 months

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Emma’s Epic Bday Multi-Fandom Rec List: Stranger Things Edition

(yes, there will be many parts because oh my god I read waaaay too much fic)

Since it was my birthday recently (and around the 1-year anniversary of when I started actually using Tumblr again after a years-long break) I figured it was only fitting to do a giant master list of all of the amazing fanfics that I have read (and reread) in the past year.

I do my best to reblog as much as possible but sometimes with work and life I miss it so this is my attempt to make up for that and give all of the amazing creators on here the credit they deserve. Thank you all so much for sharing all of your work with us. This year has been a long and difficult one for me, especially mental health wise, and being able to escape into these stories has been so valuable and important to me.

If you read anything on here that you like, please reblog and/or comment on these fics to show the creators some love!

AN IMPORTANT NOTE: While not everything listed here will include smut, many of these authors have 18+ blogs. Please, please, please respect their boundaries and DO NOT INTERACT WITH THEM/THEIR CONTENT IF YOU ARE A MINOR.

Stories marked with ❤️‍🔥 contain NSFW content

Stranger Things:

colors (series) ❤️‍🔥by @loveshotzz — this was my introduction to ST fanfic and hooooo boy what an intro it was. what i wouldn’t give for a steamy, forbidden romance with best friend’s dad!Steve —sorry, Jenny, but he was just too hot to resist — it’s hot and emotional and basically the stuff that fantasies are made of. loveshotzzz is also the creator of the Foxy Lounge series, featuring flirty bartender Eddie and bad-at-fighting bouncer Steve which is also *chef’s kiss*

Time to giddy up, yeah? ❤️‍🔥by @loveshotzz — two words: pornstache Steve. Two more words: mustache ride. Two more? You’re welcome.

As You Wish (series) ❤️‍🔥 by @corroded-hellfire — my all time favorite Eddie series! Ryan and Luke are the most adorable, hilarious kids (i loved their little “scheme” to set their dad up with their babysitter) and the little family that Eddie and his sons form with the reader has just been so delightful to read. (also, for the record, it’s on sight with brittany)

put me through it, baby ❤️‍🔥 by @agentmarvel — PINING EDDIE MY BELOVED! Ugh I loved the slow building of the friendship between Eddie and reader, the angst of him knowing that her boyfriend was trash but not wanting to cross a line, the passion between them. As i wrote when i reblogged it, “Screaming, crying, laughing, smiling, CRYING 😍🥹😭🥵 “

take me higher ❤️‍🔥 by @munson-blurbs — i will never get enough Argyle stories, and bug has written some of my favorites. this is one i reread all the time (i’m clearly a sucker for a good babysitter fic) because i love the way Argyle feels so real in it. The flirtation, the banter, those sweet little moments of awkwardness, it’s all truly 10/10. A special runner-up mention goes to this blurb which features best friend! Argyle and hair pulling and is just … just a dream.

bad idea ❤️‍🔥 by @abibliophobiaa — if i’ve said it once, i’ve said it a million times: Steve Harrington is a menace. Best friend!Steve gets his hands on the romance novel you’re reading and decides to tease you with all of the flirty things he picked up from it. Steve is at peak menace in this, which means i fell hard and fast.

this is gonna sting by @lovebugism — this one was written so, so beautifully. Sweet, lovestruck Eddie afraid to open up and confess his feelings always hits me hard and the imagery in this was just so stunning that i think about it a lot. I aspire to write a sentence as beautiful as “he leaks a bright red truth right across from you and carries everything he feels about you in raging scarlet scrapes.”

Steve Harrington Boat Smut ❤️‍🔥 by @lovebugism — God, what a glorious day it was when those pictures of Joe Keery on a boat in Italy made their way online. Anyway, this is exactly what is says on the tin and exactly what we all needed in that moment.

This story by @pouringmyheartoutforpaper — sweet, sweet lovesick Stevie who is determined that things will be different in this relationship meets reader who has some insecurities about how slow their relationship is progressing. Gorgeous, sweet, fluff that will give you the warm fuzzies.

The Tune-Up ❤️‍🔥 by @roanniom — Issa, queen of smut! This mechanic Eddie story is so hot that it will have you contemplating whether or not you should mess with a few things on your car, just for an excuse to come visit him in the shop. (Also just read all of her stuff. It’s so, so good.)

Happy Mother’s Day, Steve Harrington ❤️‍🔥 by @roanniom — STEVE. HARRINGTON. BREEDING. KINK. WILL MAKE BRAIN GO BRRRRRRR. I rest my case.

The Riddles Three ❤️‍🔥by @blueywrites — You cannot convince me that Eddie “Dungeon Master” “Lord of the Rings nerd” Munson would not try and do a Gollum impression in bed. As a firm believer in goofy, weird bedroom antics, this story is canon and I will hear nothing else about it.

Smoke and Cherry Pop Rocks ❤️‍🔥 by @somnambulic-thing — want to have your heart broken in the best way possible? HERE YOU GO. A gorgeous, tender, emotional story about regrets and moving on and finding the courage to open up, even if it’s a little too late.

Classified ❤️‍🔥by @pullhisteeth — considering the slightly absurd premise — putting an ad in the paper to lose your virginity — this was gorgeously grounded and real. Eddie is so lovely and gentle in this and it was just a treat to read.

monster under the bed ❤️‍🔥by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple — i’m going to be honest: this is monsterfucking. But if that’s something you’re into, you *need* to read this. It will make you go feral.

River Monster! Eddie ❤️‍🔥by @courtingchaos — brb, wandering along the banks of all the rivers near me in an attempt to lure River Monster!Eddie to come out and mate with me. Again, it is monsterfucking, but … come on. It’s so good. (Meg also has some of the best Gator Tillman fics out there. They’re hot and weird and wild in all of the best ways.

My Goyle Fiend ❤️‍🔥by @bettyfrommars — You want monsters? You go to Betty. Trust me on this. Her gargoyle series was the first that I read from her and I was hooked instantly. She’s written werewolves, vampires and is currently working on a brilliant series where Eddie works at the Nightmare Factory and appears in your dreams as all kinds of different ghosts and ghouls. If things that go bump in the night aren’t your taste, her biker! Eddie and Steve series are also great, as well as her beautiful gigalo!Eddie story.

I Can See You ❤️‍🔥by @fairyysoup — I don’t know that there are enough words to express how much I loved this story, The not-so-unrequited affection, the building tension, the way Steve and the reader keep coming together over the years, Steve’s big grand gesture at the end … just so beautiful and moving and steamy. I’ve already reread it like 4 times.

Stranger Things Adjacent a.k.a. Joseph Quinn characters

The Hat Shop Girl (Ralph from Timewasters) ❤️‍🔥by @rehfan — Y’all this story is *so* good. It packs so much into this love story — issues of class, grief, sexuality, power dynamics �� in a way that just makes their journey so much richer and more interesting. This version of Ralph is perfect, soft and sweet and well-meaning but also the way his confidence builds throughout the story is delightful and the smut between them is so delicious and delightful. 10/10.

Knight in Shining Armor (Billy Knight) ❤️‍🔥by @rehfan — I’m gonna say it: This is my favorite Billy Knight fanfic of all time. So soft and tender, it handles Billy’s mental health in a way that feels really empathetic and realistic while also letting the audience indulge in the thing everyone really wants: to give sweet Billy all the love in the world.

This Billy Knight Masterlist ❤️‍🔥by @pollenallergie — I could not pick just one of these amazing Billy fics. pollenallergie is, in my mind, *the* authority on all things Billy Knight and she’s got it all. Her writing is soft and steamy and touching all at the same time and I love it all.

Worth It (Ralph from Timewasters) by @wheels-of-despair — Do you want to feel *all* of the delightful warm fuzzies as you daydream about the perfect life with sweet Ralph? This is the story for you. Every chapter is delightful and touching and will make you feel *all* of the feelings. I love it so much.

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vanillann · 11 months

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1989: A STEVE HARRINGTON X F!READER STORY

PROLOGUE: WELCOME TO NEW YORK

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

1989 MASTERLIST

S. HARRINGTON MASTERLIST

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Old stuff.”

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

“Like I miss her old stuff?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then get her.”

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

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

“Well,” Joyce shrugged, “Yeah”.

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

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

“Yeah, nobody else is.”

Dramatic, as always.

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

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

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

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

#stranger things x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrrington x reader #stranger things imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington x (y/n)#steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic rec #steve harrington imagine #stranger things x y/n #steve harrington series #steve harrington recs

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joehawke · 7 months

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I need a HELLA angsty Steve harrington centric fic. Anyone have any recs? Preferably Steddie or steve x the party

#stranger things #steve harrington #steve stranger things #steddie #steve x eddie #steddie recs #Steve harrington recs

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barznasty · 1 year

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STEVE HARRINGTON

@meadowscarlet

angel baby keep a secret

@luveline

bodyguard!steve

@lilacletter

for good measure

@sunflowersteves

mean!steve & soft!steve

@cosmicloki

pretty boy

@ladylannisterxo

tell me you love me

@upsidedownwithsteve

you make it easy

#steve harrington fic #steve harrington recs

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itsapeterthing · 2 years

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Col (@foreverindreamlandd) has written a few things: this (there’s a part 2) & this and has some awesome stuff she’s working on now too!

@mad-elia has this: My Girl

@onceuponastory’s Edge of Seventeen

Day of the Dead by luveline is real good.

Photo Booth by asgardwinter

There's so many more out there!

oh my gosh thank you so much for all these recs! I can’t wait to read them asap!!

#steve harrington #steve harrington recs

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wynnyfryd · 4 months

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“Trying to steal the spotlight, Harrington?”

“No, baby, I figured we could share it.”

from “Cut It Loose, Watch You Work The Room” by @wormdebut | art by @doomcheese

—

MERRY CHRISTMAS WORMY 😘🎄😘🎄😘 @messessentialist and i know how much you love doom’s art so we commissioned her to draw the kiss scene for you sorry we drooled all over your present lmfao

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie art #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fic rec #boys who kiss boys on stage

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tubesock86 · 7 months

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idk what happened I’m fully back on my steddie bullshit HAHA

#guyyyssss give me fic recs!!! pleeease #Eddie loves getting to invade Steve’s personal space #and now that they’re dating he gets to do it and know that Steve loves it!!#my art!#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fanart #tubesock86

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bejeweledbaby · 2 months

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obsessed with fics where steve and eddie were each other's first kiss when they were children but they don't connect the dots when they meet again as adults. Neither realize that this eddie is that eddie and this steve is that steve.

let me set the scene:

the older kids are having a small get together at steve's place and they're all sharing their first kiss stories. eddie starts regaling the group with the story of his first kiss with this beautiful boy at summer camp who had gorgeous hazel eyes and the softest hair. steve thinks the story sounds a little too similar to his first kiss. he starts connecting the dots when he realizes the chocolate button doe eyes he used to dream about years ago are the same chocolate button doe eyes he's been dreaming about in recent months. when it's steve's turn to share his first kiss story, he's like, "well, actually you've already heard it." and now eddie's connected the dots and pulls him into the bathroom to kiss about it. and there's some heartfelt love confessions and then they ride off into the sunset together.

#i could've totally articulated this better #i am not a writer but i am always thinking about steddie meeting at summer camp and then never seeing each other again #and when they do they don't realize who the other person is #anyway #if someone wants to write a fic or rec me a fic about this #please do #like please please please please #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things

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rogueddie · 4 months

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reading steddie friends with benefits fics is so funny to me. not the trope, just bc of steve. that boy cannot do casual to save his life. eddie touches his ass one time and he's planning their wedding.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #I'm almost done with a fwb rec list and it's my fave #steve ''how am i supposed to sleep with girl if shes moving soon so we cant settle and marry'' harrington. my beloved.

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thelostmagicians · 6 months

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Love Comes In Threes | Steve Harrington

Summary: Steve Harrington loves you, he just can't say it. [2k]

Fluff, comfort, slight angst, emotionally/verbally constipated Steve

♡

The last time Steve Harrington said I love you to someone she ripped out his heart and left with the boy she told him not to worry about.

He doesn’t remember the last time he said it to his parents, only that he stopped trying after he kept getting the dial tone in response to his feelings.

So you weren’t exactly surprised or upset when he kissed you instead of saying it back 6 months into your relationship.

The first time you said I love you to Steve it was a stormy evening. The both of you agreed to take things slow, wounds from the past still open and healing. But he just looked so handsome that night with his hair tousled in a perfect mess, red creeping on his cheeks from the cold air as the both of you raced towards his car trying to protect yourselves from the rain. He turned the heat on as he took your hands in his in an effort to warm you up. You tried to hold it in, you swear you did, but the love you had for him weighed down on you like an anchor and you thought if you didn’t tell him that second you were going to drown in your own feelings.

“I love you,” you had whispered as he continued rubbing his fingers over yours. He paused his actions, shyly looking up. The red on his cheeks could no longer be blamed on the cold because now he was feeling as the sun was glowing warm in his heart.

“You sure?” he asked you. Instead of answering you kissed him, hoping your lips would act as a spout and pour how you felt directly into him.

You knew that like you, Steve had been hurt in the past so when he pulled you in for another kiss instead of saying it back you never questioned him.

But that was a year ago.

Almost two years into the relationship and Steve still hasn’t said I love you back. Every time he hears it fall from your lips, he’ll just give your hand a squeeze and carry on. You want to think it isn’t a big deal. You try to convince yourself that the L word isn’t necessary in your relationship, not when you share a home, a bed, secrets, and, hopefully, a family in the future. But no matter how hard you try to ignore your feelings it still leaves you disappointed when you see couples everywhere throw the three words around like they’re playing catch. It’s an endless cycle of disappointment for not hearing it, guilt for questioning the love Steve has for you, and frustration for why it mattered so much.

“As someone who Steve previously loved, do you think he actually loves me or is he just… settling?”

Your question makes Nancy freeze, the book she was previously trying to shove back in the shelf falls with a loud thud. She throws an apologetic smile at the librarian who shakes her head in disapproval.

“What are you even talking about?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I brought it up. But I was just thinking, Steve loved you Nance. He told you he loved you. It’s been years and people still remember how broken he was after you left. Like if I left would he be just as sad or would he be okay.”

“Are you planning on leaving Steve?” Nancy stutters out.

“Well no…definitely no. It just makes me wonder if people can see that Steve loves me or if they think of me as the passerby keeping him from you while you were the one that got away. Whenever I tell someone I’m dating Steve all I ever hear is good on him for moving on, poor thing was a wreck after Nancy Wheeler left.”

Nancy picks up her stack of books as she leads you to the front desk, “Look what Steve and I had was over before we both even realized it was over. He loves you, I think… I think he loves you more than he could’ve ever loved me. And why do you even care what people think? These are the same people who think Robin is a sinner and that my parents are happily married.”

You roll your eyes in affection as you help her with her books. “I guess you’re right…” you trail off as your eye catches a magazine. In big bold letters you read 100 Different Signs Your Man Loves You.

“Oh please you can’t be serious.”

You give her a sheepish smile as you check out your rental and head back home.

The magazine was utter trash. It had nothing, but surface value declarations that did nothing to soothe your worries. You stopped reading after sign 8 when it said Ladies if your man compliments your cooking, then it means he’s thinking about locking it down! Because remember a way to a man’s heart is through his stomach!

Your Steve wasn’t like this. Your Steve was the kind of guy who knew you were having a bad day before you even had the chance to tell him. Your Steve was the kind of guy who would willingly wake up early and go out into snow just to heat up your car so you won’t have to drive in the cold.

You sigh as you toss the magazine in the back of the car making a mental note to drop it off at the library on your way to pick up Robin for your girls day.

You honk twice in front of Vickie’s house before Robin comes bolting down the driveway, shoes in hand and trying to wrestle her jacket on. She gives you a wave before climbing in and greeting you with a tight hug.

“I see your sleepover went well,” you tease.

Before she can tease back Vickie knocks on the window prompting Robin to roll it down.

“Hi, Vickie” you smirk up at her, eyes darting to the purple bruise under her ear that she poorly tried to conceal with makeup.

She waves shyly, “Robin… I forgot to say,” she looks at you nervously, “Nevermind, just I’ll see you tomorrow.” She quickly kisses Robin’s cheek and scurries back inside.

“So… what was that whole thing with Vickie about?” you try to ease in.

Robin bumps her head on the window when you pull into a parking spot, “Oh Vickie? She’s still nervous about saying the L word publicly so that’s what she was doing.”

“At least she’s saying it privately,” you huff under your breath.

“What was that?”

“Oh, nothing, I was just asking how she says it in public if she isn’t comfortable?”

“You know the cheek kisses she gave, that was it.”

You quickly put the shirt you’re holding back on the rack before looking at Robin confused. “What do you mean, is that your guys’ secret language?”

Robin laughs, pulling up a skirt to herself. “No silly, haven’t you ever heard the saying love comes in threes. When you touch someone three consecutive times it’s the equivalent of I. Love. You. Hence three cheek kisses equal an I love you.”

“That’s so cute,” you squeal, squeezing her arm and testing it out for yourself.

She squeezes back instantly, “I’m surprised you haven’t heard of it, considering Steve’s the one that introduced me to it.”

Your steps falter behind her. “Hang on, Steve? My Steve, told you that?”

“Yeah, he said his Nana used to do it when they were kids or something like that. Told me before I told Vickie I loved her. Do you think this skirt is cute or should I save my money for a Madonna tape?”

Robin keeps rambling as you stay in place, your thoughts spiraling. Her confession makes you think about every single time Steve’s ever touched you. Every morning before you part ways how he pecks your lips once, twice, and a little longer the third time. How he squeezes your waist three times when he walks past you to get his favorite mug. How he reaches for your thigh, hand, anything he can get ahold of just to get three squeezes in. How he taps your arm in his sleep, again always in threes. You would stay up trying to figure out what song his taps represent before eventually drifting off yourself.

This whole time you were waiting for Steve to verbally express his love when he was doing it quietly in his own way, more often than you ever did.

You don’t even realize you’re crying until you feel a tear slowly drip down your neck.

“Hey what’s wrong are you okay?” Robin asks frantically. She drops her bags, hands squeezing your arms and eyes darting around for any signs of danger.

You nod through your tears, “I’m okay, can we just go. I have to get home, I know it’s crazy but…”

Robin nods, grabbing your arm and leading you to the exit.

The car ride back home is quiet, Robin didn’t even whisper a goodbye when she left simply settling with a quick peck to your forehead and soft smile.

Your thoughts feel overwhelming like everything is going a mile a minute when you think about Steve. You think about your first date, your second, and your third and so on. How Steve ended every night with three of something.

Your body is on autopilot as you make your way through the front door. Keys tossed in the bowl, coat hung up, and shoes thrown off.

“Hey baby, you alright? Robin called asking if you were okay.” A concerned Steve comes into your vision, he quickly wipes his hands on the kitchen towel before flinging it over his shoulder and kissing you. Once, twice, and thrice.

Your hard stare makes him nervous, he’s never seen you like this before. “Honey,” he whispers out.

You take a deep breath in, “You never said I love you to me, not after I said it first, not even when you asked me to move in.” You pause trying to compose yourself while Steve avoids your gaze. “This whole time I thought you didn’t love me like you should, that you loved me, but you weren’t in love with me.”

Steve lifts his head up, baffled, he goes to argue until you lift your hand up signaling him to wait.

“Robin told me something about how love comes in threes, today. How three taps, or any kind of touch in rapid succession three times is the equivalent of an I love you,” he finally meets your gaze as you slowly walk over to him, tugging on his waist to hold him as close as possible. “You told me you loved me on our first date, you told me the night we had our first kiss, you told me on our anniversary. And you tell me everyday. I don’t think there’s an hour that goes by without you telling me.”

Steve pulls you into his chest before gently lifting your head and kissing you three times. You giggle at the not-so-secret-anymore gesture. “I’m trying. I really am trying hard to say it, but I do. I really do. I want you to know how important you are, but I’m also scared. So I guess this was my way of saying it, reminding myself that when I do eventually say the words… you won’t leave.”

“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry for not seeing your love. For not understanding that even though you love me quietly you love me the most. Your love is in the tiny but grand gestures that I take for granted, but would miss deeply if I didn’t have it. I don’t need the words anymore Steve, I just need you because you love me more than I ever thought was possible and that’s enough. You’re enough.”

He squeezes your shoulder three times before whispering the words you’ve always wanted to hear from him.

They say love comes in threes and your love with Steve may be quiet, but it’s everywhere.

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loveshotzz · 7 days

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what are some steve fics u find yourself going back to reread

pbv! steve by @carolmunson

slow motion love potion by @upsidedownwithsteve

boxer!steve by @rustedhearts

baby, kiss me by @superblysubpar

it’s simple and it goes like this by @usedtobecooler

wicked games by @stevenose

aftermath by @sweetsweetjellybean

#asks #steve harrington fic recs #these are just the ones that i have on the top of my head ♥️#but ones that left a lasting impression on me #i know i’m forgetting more #steve harrington smut #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader

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strangerthings1975 · 2 years

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Check out the exquisite fanart that Jul from Juldoodles on Twitter made for my fic Money, Power, Glory. 🖤🥹🥰🤭😳😩

My heart is so full. The art is beautiful, and I’m so grateful you took the time to draw this. Absolute perfection. Like, there aren’t enough words to express how much I LOVE this. 🖤🖤🖤🖤

Here is another one! 🖤🖤

#steddie #steddie fic rec #steddie fic #steddie fanart #steve harrington x eddie munson #mpg #the writing on the wall is even relevant to the fic #the detail is incredible #i am STUNNED

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vanillann · 2 years

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SCREAMING COLOR- (S.HARRINGTON X FEMALE!READER)

SUMMARY: “the rest of the world was in black and white but we were in screaming color” -taylor swift

WARNING: swearing, tooth rotten fluff, blood

WC: 4.8K

A/N: thank god this is finally posting, i hope you enjoy it!

Orange- “excitement, warmth, youthful”

Steve Harrington was depressed. Well he supposed he was depressed, he didn’t really know what the word meant but he’d heard his dad say it enough to use context clues.

He’d have to tell Mrs. Harper that he was using context clues outside his second grade classroom.

So, Steve had decided he was depressed when his orange popsicle fell into the sand at the playground. The frozen, flavored water was forming a small pool at his feet and ants were starting to surround him. Great, Steve hated ants and now he had a bunch of ants and no popsicle.

“I wanna go on the swing!”

The voice was loud, screaming over the loud gust of the Indiana winds during late summer, and coming closer to the newly depressed Steve. He’d wish everyone would go away, including the ants, so he could cry about his fallen popsicle in peace. Okay, he might not cry but he definitely wanted to throw a tantrum without anyone watching.

“Nobody else wants to swing (Y/N)!” Another voice, moving away from Steve thankfully, screamed almost just as loud. Steve heard the faint sound of giggles and feet running away and he hoped everyone had left.

“Are you staring at me?”

Steve wobbled on the swing when he realized she was talking to him, her eyes glittering under the harsh sun of the day. Steve thought she had really nice eyes, which made the lion look much better.

“I-I’m sorry, I was looking at your face paint I swear!”

“My mom couldn’t get a real painter,” she mumbled softly under her breath into her birthday sash that Steve was just now noticing hung around her frame. How did he miss the long bright yellow sash that clung to the small child?

“I think it looks cool,” Steve was never very good at lying so he hoped the glitter in her eyes would hide his embarrassed flushed cheeks well enough. Steve took a loud exhale when she only huffed out a thank you, kicking her feet aggressively to make the swing glide through the air.

“I bet I can go higher!”

Steve started kicking his feet, enjoying the way the wind breezed over his exposed ankles as she gained some momentum. The lion beside Steve started arguing, aggressively kicking as she told him off. Soon the two were flying like birds migrating, childhood giggles making the once dead park feeling lively again.

“I’m going to jump!” Steve yelped, wasting no time as she let his small fingers loosen their grip on the thin metal chain holding him up.

“You can’t! You’ll die!”

Steve only laughed, finally making the leap from the red plastic swing with a loud battle cry. The wind whipped his hair around his face, getting slightly into his mouth as he descended to the ground only a foot or so from the set. As he collapsed to the ground, he heard the lion roar in horror. She was worried for him.

Steve never had anyone worry about him when he jumped from the swing sets, not even his mother as he almost broke a bone one time. Everyone always let Steve jump telling him it looked awesome as he hit the rough dirt. Nobody ever worried as Steve's ankle or back would always be a little sore after the fact. He liked that someone worried about him, he liked hearing her roar after him.

“No!” The girl collapsed in the sand beside Steve, her tiny hands grabbing his shoulder and shaking him so hard his head fell back into the dirt.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Steve’s own hands found her shoulders, smiling up at her with all the charm a second grader could muster.

“You can’t do that, I don’t like watching my friends get hurt.”

“I’m your friend? You don’t even know my name or anything about me,” Steve sat up, grinning as he looked down at the girl with pride rolling from his shoulders. He liked being taken care of, it made him feel extra special.

“What’s your name?”

“Steve.”

“I’m (Y/N) and now I know your name is Steve and I know you were sad when I came over here. I was sad too, then we swung together and we weren’t sad so, yeah friends.”

Steve didn’t think it was supposed to be that easy. He thought you’d need to know everything about someone to be friends, that's why he didn’t have any, but the more he thought about her words the more it made sense. He supposed you couldn’t know everything about some unless you shared the first details.

“I was sad cause I dropped my orangesicle,” Steve pointed to the pool of orange liquid that was not far from (Y/N)’s shoe, which had little ants floating in the once delicious cold dessert.

“Ew!” (Y/N) jumped into Steve's side, hoping to separate herself from the public pool that Steve had accidentally opened. Steve smiled when her shoulder smashed into his, both as close as two second graders had been without a fight.

“I’ll get you a new popsicle, just don’t eat that one,” (Y/N) stood in a hurry as she dragged Steve from the sand. Her feet kicked up chucks of sand and she almost tripped three times before Steve actually stood up.

“Where are we going?”

“My birthday party, we have a bunch of orangesicles! I don’t really like them so you can have them all and get your face painted!”

Steve normally wouldn’t trust someone who didn’t like orangesicles, they were the best sickle in the whole pack, but as she smiled over her shoulder at him with that goofy lion clinging to her figures, he knew he could trust her.

(Y/N) (L/N) managed to fix Steve Harrington depression, for the first time.

Green- “soothing, jealousy, hope”

Steve Harrington was so anxious it was making him depressed.

The entire Hawkins High Basketball team had left him to wallow in his own anxiety as they prepared for the big game tonight. Steve was the youngest on varsity, being a freshman and everyone else an upperclassman. His entire high school career would be based on his performance tonight, so no pressure at all.

“Steve?”

The door to the locker room swung open, a loud thud as it slammed into the tiled wall with force. Only one person would swing a door with that much force and still sound friendly.

“(Y/N)?” Steve perked up at the voice of his best friend, her loud cheer shoes slamming against the quiet room. Steve enjoyed the loud noise, if it came from her at least.

She finally rounded the lockers, Steve couldn’t help but smile up at the cheerleader. A small tiger was painted on her cheek, much better than the lion from her birthday all those years ago, and her cheer uniform fit her like a second skin. Green really was her color.

“Why are you hiding back here?” She found room on the bench, her knees touching his as she patiently waited for Steve to express his doomed feelings. He supposed he looked defeated because she made no mention of the short basketball shorts that barely fit or the smell of musk that clung to the walls like she normally would.

“I don’t think I’m good enough,” Steve let his Nike’s run over the grout in the tiles, letting his mind wander from the sticky boys locker room. What if he missed? What if he fell on his face? What if he overstepped? What if everything is his fault?

“If you weren’t good enough they wouldn’t have let you on the team,” (Y/N) shrugged, letting her head rest on his shoulder. Steve reveled the fact that her scent clouded all his scenes. Has she always smelt like candy?

“Yeah but-”

“No but Steve, you are good enough.”

“Then why don’t I feel like it?”

(Y/N) silence scared him, she always knew exactly what to say when it came to him and suddenly the feeling in his stomach only worsened. If she couldn’t see the best in him then there wasn’t any, because she could see the best in rabid animals and kids that bully her for being too loud.

“Because good people never realize they're good,” Her breathing made Steve shiver with fear, or maybe with excitement he couldn’t tell the difference, too much was happening in one moment to focus on his silly feelings.

“I believe you’re going to be the best possible out there tonight, and that’s pretty fucking great if I do say so myself.”

Steve had heard every upperclassman assume he would do fine, his mother and father told him he would do fine tonight, yet as if his brain could only hear the octaves of her voice, he believed her.

“You think?” Steve shrugged, smiling as her head bounced around slightly before lifting her head high enough to give him a bored expression. The glitter in her eye still made him buzz with joy as if they were still kids.

“I’m not fueling your ego ever again,” but Steve knew she would, it was who she was.

She was good like that, she was still the girl who worried when he jumped off swings and got his heart broken by an older girl; she warned him about her but he didn’t listen.

“If you don’t fuel my ego, who will?”

“Your mirror,” she finally stood from the bench that was definitely missing a nail, holding her hand out for the boy as if she was pulling him from his imagery rock bottom.

“You’re not funny,” Steve took her hand without a second thought, standing to his full height in front of her. She was taller than when they were kids, though Steve supposed he’d grown quite a bit too; even if he still felt small.

“You know I’m hilarious.”

Steve and (Y/N) exited from the locker room, leaning on one another like life support, as the basketball team ran through a few new game plans. The cheer captain screamed at (Y/N) to hurry up or she was kicked, bullshit. They couldn’t survive without her, Steve supposed they had that in common.

“I gotta go, just scream if you need me!” His lion went running, her skirt flying in the wind behind her as she demonstrated her roar for the whole gym to hear. Steve felt jealous, her roar was for him only. The jerky upperclassmen shouldn’t be able to hear that.

“Harrington,” the captain slapped a hand on his shoulder, “girlfriend makes you feel better?”

“She’s not my girlfriend, but yeah she made me feel better,” and Steve ignored the few sophomores asking about her with annoyance. A part of him wanted to “accidentally'' smash the basketball into their head for talking about her like that. She wasn’t for them, she was Steve’s lion. She was Steve’s everything. Instead he looked over at his favorite pair of green and gold pom pom’s wave in the air as she jumped with joy.

(Y/N) (L/N) had fixed Steve Harriongton's depression, again.

Black- “mystery, loss, unknown”

Steve Harrington was depressed, for real this time. His feet ran from Tina’s Halloween party, carrying him to (Y/N)’s small house on the outskirt of time. He barely had knocked when the front door swung open but a force only she could have; force that calmed him.

“Harrington?”

“I’m bullshit,” Steve pushed past the girl with ease, going straight up the stairs to the bedroom he’d loved for the past few years. He jumped over the creaky stair and dogged the cat that slithered past the two teens with ease. He didn’t hesitate to fall on top of the black bedspread, finding comfort in the way the bed moved under her as she sat beside him.

“You’re what?”

“I’m apparently bullshit, according to Nancy Wheeler at least.” Steve went on his long, tangent recollection of the night. She said nothing as he retold the horrors from the Halloween party, which comforted Steve to no end.

He needed to talk, he’s been so scared to talk since the night at the Byers. He signed some silly paper saying he could only talk to this therapist that the government prescribed and anyone who was in the loop. Although he wanted to talk to his best friend, not some lady with a white lab coat and pill bottles lining the wall. He wanted her to roar at those scary government official and tell them to fuck off, but he couldn’t say a word. So instead, he told her how Nancy had called him bullshit and he felt like she took a baseball bat of nails to his heart.

And she cared just as much as if he told her about the Upside Down and giant slimy Demogroans.

“She called you bullshit! What the hell!”

“She was drunk,” Steve pulled at his delicate nail beds, “but yeah. What the hell.”

“You aren’t bullshit, you’re the least bullshit person ever!” Her sock clad feet paced the room, running tracks in her mustard yellow carpet.

Steve felt like bullshit, lying to her.

“Maybe I’m a little bullshit,” Steve felt two hands grab the sides of his face, making him stare up at her. He hadn’t looked at her, not like this, since the day on the swing. He took her in, her angered expression making his lungs forget the taste of oxygen. Was she always this dangerously beautiful? How hadn’t he noticed when she sat beside him at the swing?

“Don’t call my best friend that, or I’ll have to beat you up.”

He knew she would, and he’d let her win just to watch her breathing become rapid and her little fist to touch his bare skin. Was the room suddenly growing hot? How did she have a sweater in this weather?

“You’d never hurt me,” Steve watched as she smirked down at him, her fingers lingering on his stubble long enough to make him wonder if she thought he was half as beautiful as herself. He hoped she felt warm and fuzzy like him, praying he wasn’t ruining everything.

“Maybe, I’m full of mysteries.” Steve smiled for the first time that hour, watching as she did little jazz hands before making herself comfortable beside him, making her home in her pillows and his side.

“You're also full of shit! You told me you hadn’t seen Purple Rain yet!” Steve held up the Prince movie high, his voice full of offense as she hurried to grab the VHS from his steady fingers.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

Giggles echoed off the poster filled walls and Steve could only pray they didn’t wake her sleeping parents. Last time that happened, he wasn’t allowed to see her for a whole week. It was the worst week of Steve’s life, he’d fight a million demogorgon to never relive that week.

As the two talked and shared secrets about favorite movies, Steve knew that she had to know. You couldn’t be best friends unless you knew everything about them, that’s what little Steve believed; and maybe teenage Steve believed the same thing because he was seconds away from telling her everything. Until the gentle snores filled the room, his body relaxing at the sound.

Her breathing and snores were like a lullaby to Steve’s tortured ears, letting his body rest into the mismatch pillow. No nightmares or tears for Nancy Wheeler were shed that night.

(Y/N) (L/N) had once again cured Steve Harrington depression, and he was still learning how to do the same.

Blue- “reliable, depressed, trust”

Steve Harrington hated to see his best friend depressed.

She was curled up in his passenger seat, clutching the blue slushie he bought her with white knuckles. (Y/N) refused to tell Steve what happened with her and Henry, just that they ended and it was messy.

Steve wanted to make Henry’s face messy for hurting her as if she was just another girl, like she wasn’t special. Henry made his lion cry and Steve believed that he deserved to be thrown into the Upside Down for such a crime.

“You know I’ll kill him if you want,” Steve didn’t take his eyes off the road, because once he had one look at her he wouldn't be able to look away. She was just that angelic, even crying which Steve thought was really dangerous. People aren’t supposed to look pretty when they cry, what if she was a super human like Eleven?

Is that how she made him feel all these feelings?

“I don’t need you in jail,” a loud slurp echoed off the walls of Steve’s BMW, “then I wouldn’t have anyone to waste gas on me.”

Steve smirked, quickly looking down at his quarter of a tank before back to the end backroads of Hawkins. Neither had a destination, just driving with gas station snacks and enjoying the scenery of their small town.

“I didn’t tell you that you’re filling up my tank?” Steve dared to look at her and forgot that he was driving. She looked perfect as she stirred her drink, her lips slightly blue and smirking at his comment.

He wanted to taste the blue from her pout but thought best not too, she didn’t need him to confuse her right now. Even if it hurt Steve, he didn’t want to make her life more complicated.

“No you didn’t,” she whispered into her lap.

“Damn it,” Steve jokily hit the steering wheel, “I hope you bought your wallet then.” Her giggles made Steve slow down slightly, caught off guard by the sound. She said nothing else, making Steve continue to question her in order to hear her.

He couldn’t help it that her voice was his favorite song.

“You know you can trust me, what happened?”

“I trust you more than anyone, it’s why I don’t want to tell you,” her voice went quiet again, which made Steve’s heart scream. She was loud, how dare Henry take her roar from her. Henry took his livewire and drenched her in rainwater, Steve could only hope she had electrocuted him before she gave out.

“Okay, just tell me when you’re ready.”

That’s all the two needed to share, enjoying the night drive with silence that would’ve been awkward if it was anyone else. But it wasn’t anyone else, it was just them and their breathing that the other could recognize anywhere. Steve was thankful for the silence, not worrying about Dustin yelling in his ear or protecting everyone. He didn’t need to protect himself around her, they could protect each other.

“Thank you Steve, I don’t think I could survive without you.”

Steve Harrington knew, for once, he had solved her depression and not the other way around.

Pink- “romance, sweetness, gentle”

Steve Harrington was going to kill himself in a Scoops Ahoy uniform, which he personally felt was the lowest his depression had ever gotten. Robin had taken her break and some kid had scammed Steve, so it wasn’t his best shift.

Until (Y/N)’s roar was heard from the front of the store as she yelled out Steve’s name. He immediately felt a flush wash over his entire body, something that had become common since Halloween of 1984. He came to the conclusion that once you think your best friend is dangerously beautiful, they only get more and more beautiful.

“(Y/N),” his voice was completely gentle as he watched her take her station in front of him, a wicked smile stretching the miles across her face. Steve would drive all the miles on her face just to reach her perfectly soft lips.

“Did you hear me?”

No, Steve wasn’t listening, just watching the way her lips moved as if speaking tongues. His own begged to taste her words as he took her oxygen for himself, as selfish as it sounded. Steve would always be a little selfish when it came to (Y/N).

“Yeah totally,” his voice sounded foggy, which was so not suspicious of him he must say.

“So I can have that strawberry cone then?”

He pulled the scooper from his apron, doing a small flip hoping to impress her, and walked to the pink tub that had barely been touched throughout the day.

“You’re the first person to get strawberry all day,” Steve nonchalant added a small extra scoop, because this was how he flirted now; adding extra ice cream to a cone.

“Because I’m the only cool person in Hawkins, duh!”

Steve had to agree, she was just the coolest. She was popsicles on Fourth of July cool and ocean water on sunburnt feet cool. She was also snow freckles covering your cheek and snow cream cool.

She was strawberry ice cream when nobody else wanted it cool.

“How much?” She took one long strip down the side of the cool dessert, her hands slipping into her coat pocket as if she expected to pay. Like Steve would ever let her do that.

“It’s on me,” Steve waved her off, watching her frown, the pink liquid dripping down her chin. Without thinking, the pad of his thumb reached across the shiny white marble to wipe the sticky goo from her plush lips.

Steve had never thought in such detail before her, he supposed that was the perk of falling for your best friend since second grade.

Her voice made no argument, watching his fingers retreat back to his side in a hurry with an embarrassed glow across his cheeks.

“Ice cream,” Steve mumbled under his breath softly, hoping to be swallowed whole by the black and white checked floor.

“I’ll let it slide,” her teasing voice was back in a hurry, as if it meant nothing, “but only because you gave me free ice cream.”

“Oh you're paying extra next time.” Steve couldn’t help but smirk as she skipped from the parlor, almost falling on her face as she looked back at his relaxed form.

Steve Harringotn didn’t know how she cured his depression every time, but at last she had done it again.

Red- “love, anger, passion”

Steve Harrington was losing too much blood to be depressed. His fist barely knocked on the door of his favorite house right outside of town, the bandages Nancy had placed on him earlier were almost soaked in red blood.

“I can’t believe,” (Y/N) words hung on her tongue as she swung open her front door, with as much force as she always did. Steve found comfort in the fact she hadn’t changed the week and a half he had gone M.I.A. Stupid Venca making him miss his best friend and shit.

“Holy shit!” She was dragging him throughout the house so fast he felt his stomach grow sick quickly. He was doing everything in his power not to hurl all over his crush, because that seemed like a bad idea even to bloodlost Steve.

“You disappear like you aren’t the only thing I got and then show up covered in blood!” Steve winched as her hand grazed over the bandages, streaks of red blood coming off on her palm. He had never heard her roar directed at him, it was always direct at someone or something else. He wished he could enjoy the lion before him, like he always did, but his mind was racing.

“I’m the only thing you got?” Was all Steve could muster as she collapsed on the side of the tub, almost falling back until her hands grabbed his shoulder.

“Shut up,” she scrambled to look through the overhead cabinet, pulling out bottles that looked like they would burn and bandages that would make Steve look six again. He wished he was six, because his only problem at six was ants eating his favorite dessert and pretty girls making sure he was okay.

“Do you remember when we met?” Steve felt delirious as she worked on the damage surrounding him, hoping he could fall back in time before any Upside Down talk was a thing.

“Yeah, but is that really important right now?” Steve ignored her question, continuing on with his original point.

“You had sat on the swings all alone, on your birthday,” (Y/N) turned away from him sightly, as if the memory still was a bone that near quite healed right, “I thought it was weird nobody came running over to push you or threatening to throw me off the swing.”

“Like I said Steve, you’re the only thing I got,” as (Y/N) looked into his eyes, he saw that stupid glitter. The one he could never describe, it was only ever a glitter, but as he watched her know he saw it.

He saw the memories flash across her iris at rapid speed, as if her eyes played a drive in a movie of her life. The longer Steve looked, the more of himself he saw, because she was right. He was all she had, but she was all he had also. They did it for each other, nothing else was needed.

So maybe it was the blood loss, but Steve had to say it.

“You’re all I got too,” Steve lifted his hand from his bangs to rest on her cheek, “but that’s fine cause you’re all I need.’

“We need to clean you up,” (Y/N) ignored the silent confession, the same one he’d given so many times since that night all those years ago. Her fingers worked with ease, as if it was second nature to take care of Steve; like he was her full time job.

“No, you can’t ignore me this time,” Steve pulled back until he fell into the tub, hoping to make his point clear. (Y/N) jumped at him, falling beside him as she still looked and cleaned his wounds.

“Steve, you're bleeding!”

“Stop roaring at me and let me confess how much I love you!”

Her hands stopped roaming his exposed skin, which saddened Steve to no end, slowly looking up at the inquired boy.

“What?”

“I love you. I love you in black and white and in screaming colors. I love you in lion face paint and cheer captain makeup. I love you on Halloween nights when my heart is shattered, and I love you now even if I’m covered in blood and goo! It’s so silly but I love you, okay!”

Steve didn’t know where the build up rant came from, for he never prepared anything quite like that. It didn’t even really make any sense now that he thinks about it, but it was exactly what his brain needed him to say in that moment; no blood loss clouding his judgment.

“Since when?”

“Since forever,” Steve felt her hands climb up his shoulders, making his head go dizzy in a whole new way. How could someone overpower the need for blood?

“You’re insane,” her voice was soft, quiet even, and Steve worried. He didn’t want to make her quiet, he wanted to make her scream and giggle with joy. He wanted her loud and proud, never quiet.

“Insane but in love,” Steve finally braced the scary glitter, “in love with you.” She exhaled, letting it fan over Steve’s crimson cheeks.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“The truth, please.” Steve hated to beg, but he barely had any blood and he supposed if he was going to die he wanted to die knowing he knew. He wanted to die knowing he cured her like she had for him.

“The truth,” a second paced way too slow for poor Steve, “I love you in screaming color and all that other bullshit you said.”

For once, Steve smiled at the word bullshit. He smiled at the blood that dripped down his chest and the memories that flooded his gentle brain. He smiled as lips ghosted across his, colors bursting across his vision on her breath mingled with his own.

He had been a black and white silent movie before her, no emotions or words just there reading through a script. Suddenly every color appeared, reminding him of a girl he didn’t know he needed until it was too late. She made colors screaming with memories of better tomorrows and happily ever after.

Steve Harrington would never be depressed again, because color had overcome his body as her lips finally smashed into his.

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hbdttg · 1 year

Text

“Hold the elevator!”

The elevator doors are mere inches from closing, but Steve dutifully shoots a hand out to stop them. They slide back open, revealing a flustered-looking man about Steve’s age on the other side.

He’s dressed head to toe in black, decked out in a simple black pullover with a modest V-neck, snug black jeans, and all-black leather Chucks with a messenger bag slung across his chest. The messenger bag is, unsurprisingly, also black, but covered in a collection of tough-looking patches and pins in varying shades of—well, it’s mostly red, dark red, white, and some yellows, but the pops of color still stand out against his otherwise monochrome ensemble.

His dark, curly hair reaches a little past his shoulders and he’s got this frankly outdated fringe that, despite its very 80’s vibe, frames his face perfectly. His eyes are large and expressive, and he’s got this frantic energy about him that reminds Steve of a live wire. He’s nothing like the buttoned-up suits Steve usually shares his elevator rides with each morning, and it’s a refreshing change of pace.

The man gives Steve a thankful look before stepping into the elevator and leaning against the side wall. “Thanks,” he says, a little distractedly. He’s got a pair big of headphones on and Steve realizes he’s in the middle of a phone call when he adds, “No, not you, Gare, I was thanking the guy who held the elevator for me. Yeah, this building’s crazy. There’s a whole-ass sixtieth floor—guess I’m kind of a big deal now.” He lets out a small, self-deprecating chuckle, reaching for the panel beside him.

As the doors close and the elevator starts to slowly ascend, Steve notices the man pressed the button for the floor above his. Both the fifty-second and fifty-third floor buttons are lit in a halo of green.

“You know I didn’t want to leave you guys,” the man continues, a bit more quietly now that he and Steve are sharing the same small space, “but shit, I couldn’t turn down the pay.” He scoffs. “Ugh, listen to me, just another cog in the capitalist machine. Man, if high school me could see me now. High school Eddie used to talk big about forced conformity and rising up against the man, and now here I am—”

Steve tries not to listen to the one-sided conversation going on beside him, but it’s difficult when a moment later, he hears his own name.

“—clocking in for my first day at fuckin’ Harrington Hargrove Hagan. The pretentious bastards can’t even shorten it to an acronym or something. God forbid they have to miss out on the sound of their own names.”

Steve manages to hold in the obnoxious snort that threatens to escape him. He’s starting to think he might like this guy—Eddie, his mind supplies helpfully—but Eddie’s next words have him freezing in place.

“And it’s nepo baby central. Yeah, pretty sure all the H kiddies are hotshot brokers with the company. All the biggest accounts—gee, I wonder why.”

Steve can feel the back of his neck burning hot with a mixture of annoyance and shame as Eddie cracks a caustic joke about silver spoons and trust funds.

“You’re kidding, one of them works at this branch? Damn, I guess I’ll just keep an eye out for the guy who most looks like he’s got a giant stick up his ass.”

This is quickly becoming the longest elevator ride of Steve’s life. He grits his teeth and stares fixedly at the floor display panel above the elevator doors, watching the numbers climb higher and higher. Thirty-seven. Thirty-eight.

“Listen, I should go, but let’s grab a drink at the Hideout later. Cool, see you then. Bye.”

Forty-one. Forty-two.

Eddie removes his headphones and shoves them into his bag, angling slightly toward Steve. “Sorry about that, man.”

“You’re good,” Steve says shortly, not looking away from the changing numbers. They reach the forty-seventh floor, and all the while, he feels Eddie’s gaze on him.

It’s not like he’s openly staring, but there’s a certain weight to his furtive glances that completely counteracts his attempts at subtlety. It’s the type of gaze Steve’s familiar with, one that he’s been on the receiving end of since his sophomore year of high school when he hit a growth spurt and actually learned how to style his hair. Assessing. Appreciative. Interested.

And in any other situation, Steve would gladly engage. He’d turn on the charm, quirk the corner of his lip up in that way Robin always rolls her eyes at but reluctantly acknowledges as ‘passably effective’, and maybe even make up an excuse to sidle a bit closer.

But he’s not giving this guy his A-game.

Instead, Steve waits in stifling silence until the fifty-second floor is announced and the doors slide open. He steps forward to exit, but at the very last moment stops in the doorway.

He initially wasn’t going to say anything—though, a past version of himself would have definitely spat something biting and bitchy to Eddie about his snark, would have snootily told him to take his little assumptions and shove them where the sun don’t shine—but sooner or later Eddie’s going to realize he and Steve are colleagues, and he’s going to remember shit-talking him in an elevator on his first day of work, and it’s going to be awkward and uncomfortable.

Steve’s just speeding up the timeline, pushing for the sooner rather than the later, when he decides to spin around and fully face Eddie.

“I think you pressed the wrong button,” he says, all sweet and helpful like he’s talking to Dustin’s mom over a sink full of soapy dishes. “Couldn’t help but overhear that you work at Harrington Hargrove Hagan. It’s on the fifty-second floor, not the fifty-third.” Then he takes a small step backward, moving out into the carpeted hallway.

“Oh.” Eddie scrambles for his phone, unlocking it and scrolling quickly until he finds something that has him straightening up and smiling gratefully at Steve. “I guess I remembered it wrong. Thank you.” He pushes away from the wall, takes a step forward to follow Steve out, but then stops dead in his tracks.

Steve gleefully notes the line of Eddie’s gaze, how it lingers at the breast pocket of his shirt, where, clipped to a retractable badge reel, his building keycard hangs. Eddie evidently hadn’t noticed it during the elevator ride up, but he’s certainly fixated on it now.

Perhaps on the abstract yet easily recognizable Harrington Hargrove Hagan logo in the top right corner.

But more likely, based on the positively mortified look growing on Eddie’s face, on the name clearly printed underneath Steve’s photo in bold, black lettering: STEVE HARRINGTON.

Slowly, Eddie drags his eyes back up to Steve’s face. He stares in silence, eyes bugging nearly out of his head, face turning a concerning shade of pink, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, and his reaction is extreme enough that a small part of Steve is almost inclined to take pity on the guy and laugh it all off.

Unfortunately for Eddie, a bigger part of Steve thinks Eddie looks kind of cute all red-faced and embarrassed like this. So he glances down at himself thoughtfully before turning his attention back on Eddie. “Wow,” he says with exaggerated astonishment, “now that you mention it, I guess I do look like I’ve got a giant stick up my ass.”

As if on cue, the elevator chimes in warning. The doors begin to close, but Eddie just remains rooted in place with that same wide-eyed, horrified expression.

When it becomes clear he has no intentions of actually exiting the elevator, Steve chuckles and wiggles his fingers in a cheeky little wave. “Welcome to the team,” he says airily, before Eddie’s still-blushing face disappears behind the elevator doors.

/ Now with a Part 2!

#stranger things #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #modern office au #corporate steddie au #eddie's in IT #HHH is a commercial real estate firm #but steve's not a hotshot broker he's literally just a guy who makes copies all day or some shit #i personally just want to see all of eddie's baseless assumptions shattered as he gets to know steve #fic writing #hbd #actually i've never read a corporate steddie fic before so if anyone has any recs i'd love to hear them

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