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#steve harrington x y/n
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eye-rolling "Well, I guess I can do that for you."
pretty please with Steve? 🥰🥰
You weren’t Steve’s girlfriend, not at all. In fact, the man hadn’t even managed to take you on a date. Not yet.
But Steve was pretty damn sure he was borderline besotted with you. Affection made him ache, the longing worse. He felt like a teenager again, a schoolboy with a soul shattering crush that he wasn’t sure he could hide much longer…
…from you, anyway. Everyone else knew.
Which is why Nancy grinned and Eddie laughed into his beer when you found him at the party, a small get together with some old high school friends that had turned into someone bigger and messier as more people returned home to Hawkins for the holidays.
Steve had been watching you move around the room for a while, sandwiched between the sofa arm and Robin, gaze watching the way you hugged each old friend, your eyes bright with excitement, your touch warm and affectionate as you hugged everyone you’d missed.
Steve didn’t even really have time to feel jealous before you were leaning over the back of the couch, your chin on Steve’s shoulder, your perfume familiar and heart racing. You were grinning when you stole his beer bottle with light fingers, non pleased as you brought it to your lips to steal a swig, uncaring that it was borderline warm from the way Steve had nursed it all night.
You didn’t notice the way Jonathan snickered at Steve’s expression, the way Eddie smirked and Robin nudged Steve’s ribs with a bony elbow. You couldn’t see how the poor man had turned pink, face flushed and chest almost still as you leaned closer, your cheek almost touching his.
And then you turned into him, lips so close to his, your nose nudging his temple as the cheap wine you’d been drinking made you bolder, less caring of your audience.
“Hey, Steve?”
Steve didn’t dare turn his head with you this close. He didn’t need his friends to witness him short circuit. He knew you’d be close, closer than ever, close enough to count the fan of your lashes, the flecks of different colours in your eyes, the tiny silver scar on your chin that you got when you were six.
So he hummed instead, taking his beer back from your hand and downing a long drag. He could barely taste the bitterness of it over the leftover stain of your cherry lip balm. It’s like he’d forgotten how to breathe—
“I was wondering, if it’s not too much hassle,” your hand found his shoulder, warm and familiar and affection as it slipped over the front of his chest, playing with his collar. “If you’re still taking Robin home, could you drop me off on the way?”
Steve took too long to reply, the feeling of your small hand against his chest too much for him to comprehend and Eddie was sitting across from his, his grin absolutely wild and Robin’s heel was grinding down on top of his trainers, urging him to answer.
“I—”
“It’s just,” you went onto explain, taking his overwhelmed silence for apprehension, “I was supposed to crash at Jenny’s but she’s going home with Chris now and I don’t really wanna walk, y’know?”
Eddie butted in then, all cheek and charm and Steve wanted to throttle him. He was still grinning, too wide and knowing, and he knocked his boot against Steve’s shin. He tsked, frowning exaggeratedly. “Hey now,” he told you, “Harrington won’t have you walkin’ anywhere, isn’t that right Steve? He’d love to give you a ride.”
Robin almost spat her drink out, waving you away when you looked at her concerned, coughing furiously into her fist and Steve was done.
He gave in then and turned, silently thankful that you moved back just a little, your eyes warm as he met your gaze and you grinned at the sight of him, like you’d missed him as much as he had you.
Fuck, you were pretty. So, so pretty.
And Steve didn’t know what to do. So he did what he always done and played his part, that character that he had in his back pocket from high school, the one he’d learned to tone down just a little and use as a shield. So he rolled his eyes but it only made you grin wider because fucking hell, you could see right through him and Steve knew that.
It’s why you kept your hand on his chest, your arm draped over his shoulder, touching him like he belonged to you and god— he did, he did, he did.
“Yeah, uh, sure,” Steve pretended to consider it. “I can do that for you.”
You tilted your head at him, all quiet flirtation, coy and knowing and your fingertips ran up his chest and over the neckline of his shirt until you were touching bare skin- just for a second.
It was enough to make Steve’s brain buzz, full shutdown, engine screeching, loading screen frozen.
“For me?” You pouted.
You were still too close and your lips were glossy and Steve knew they tasted like cherry. All his friends were staring.
“Yeah,” he nodded, throat dry, eyes on your mouth and the way it curled into a smile. The act was over, his play pretend crumbling. He was too soft for you to try and keep it up for very long. “For you.”
And when you thanked him with a too quick press of your lips to his cheek and then disappeared into the crowd again, his friends waited all of six seconds before they exploded.
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no thoughts just riding steve after a stressful day at work
smut 18+, mentions of alcohol, adorable boyfriend steve, reader on top, penetration
You’re still cursing as you swing the apartment door open, letting it close in a much harsher fashion than normal. You had spent the entire day irritated. Your boss, your coworkers, and even your clients had managed to piss you off. You kick your heel off, letting them fly into the corner by the door as you head to the kitchen.
You had spent the car ride practically dreaming about the wine you were about to have. The glass has barely touched your lips when a voice perks up.
“Tough day?” Steve calls from the couch, reading glasses perched on his nose and a book in hand. Something in you melts when you see him and your feet carry you over to him on instinct.
He sets the book down as you climb into his lap, putting your wine glass next to his kicked up feet on the table.
“It was horrible.” He rubs your back as you lay your head on his shoulder, taking a few breaths. You don’t wanna direct your anger to Steve so you have to calm down just a little.
“I’m sorry sweetheart.” His fingers tangle with yours as you sit up to face him. Steve has always been pretty, you knew that the day you met him, but he was especially gorgeous on nights like this. Maybe it was the pure domesticity of it. Your boyfriend, Steve Harrington, sitting on your couch in his pyjamas on a Friday night. You almost couldn’t believe it.
“I’m just glad you’re here.” You relax against him once more.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” His big hands rub up and down the exposed skin of your legs.
“Honestly it was so stressful just talking about it might piss me off again.” You mumble against his neck.
“Do you wanna talk about it while you ride me? That always works wonders for your stress.” You can hear the smile in his voice but the offer is sincere.
“Yeah?” You confirm, already excited at the idea.
“Go ahead sweetheart.” He winks as you shift his pants down just enough to reveal his cock. He’s already half hard so it only takes a few strokes to get him ready.
Ever the gentleman, Steve is already bunching your pencil skirt around your waist, eyes dark behind his glasses when he sees your red thong.
“What’s this?” He plays with the fabric over your hip, licking his lips.
“It doesn’t show panty lines.” You smile as you sit up and pull the fabric to the side to take the tip of his cock.
Steve is big. Bigger than most, so riding him is usually a challenge. Luckily, it’s one that you’re always up for.
“There you go baby…” He groans as you sink down on him, already soaked.
“God this is exactly what I needed.” You moan as you start to move up and down. You take it nice and slow, letting yourself adjust. There’s no urgency in your movements. You have all the time in the world.
“So, what pissed you off?” Steve kisses along your collarbone between words, making you giggle at the sensation.
“Just-just my coworkers being stupid. Can you believe Danielle didn’t overnight the contracts I gave her? Then Mr. Zelleman got mad at me for it! It was so-so stupid.” As Steve helps you move up and down on him, you start to care less and less about work and more about how incredible his cock feels.
“So stupid…” He mumbles in agreement, kissing at your neck in a way that’s sure to leave a mark. You can’t be bothered about it though, as you start to move faster. Your stomach tightens in a very familiar way. Steve’s hands tighten their grip on yours, hips jutting up to meet your own. You press your lips against his desperately as your orgasm hits you. Pleasure that you can hardly contain shoots through you as the warmth of Steve’s orgasm fills you. As the euphoria fades, so does your energy.
You slump against Steve’s chest, his arms coming around to hug you. There’s not a thought in your head as you attempt to catch your breath.
“Feel better?” He asks.
“…About what?”
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luveline · 2 days
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hello my love!! could you maybe show us what bedtime is like in the kbd universe? thank you, you’re incredible <3
kbd —dad!steve and mom!reader get their small family ready for bed. 3k
“She looks so pretty,” Avery whispers. 
Steve struggles to pull the hem of his sock over his ankle, crossing his legs to match her as she snaps an apple slice in half with her fingers, the juice wetting her pyjama top, her torso swaying as his knee bumps into hers. “Who?” Steve asks, blinking. 
“Wren,” Avery says, leaning back to let Steve see the baby where she’s napping in her bouncer. Avery shoves a chunk of apple in her mouth. “She’s pw-ery.” 
“Try not to talk with your mouth full, you might choke.” 
Avery nods, closing her mouth to chew up the rest of her food with chipmunk cheeks. 
Steve draws a little heart into her knee. She has a bruise from falling up the stairs a few days ago like a purple ink blot just under her kneecap, but she hasn’t complained. She didn’t cry when she fell, she just got back up and asked for a Capri-Sun. Steve’s surprised she’s so hardy, but she’s getting older. He’d sort of been hoping she’d want him to kiss it better.
“She’s pretty like her big sister,” he says. 
“I’m glad she’s stopped crying all the time.” 
“Me too.” He takes one of the smaller slices from her plate to eat, wiping juice from her cheek as he does. 
She grins. “Thank you.” 
“You’re welcome. You all done?” 
“Yep.” 
“Not hungry anymore?” 
“Nope.” She grabs her plate before he can. “I’ll put it in the sink.” 
“Thanks, beautiful.” 
She jumps up with her empty plate and does a spin, saying, “Who, me?” 
Steve laughs like an idiot, still chuckling to himself as the sound of her plate hitting the kitchen sink reaches his ears. Wren, finally out of her sleep regression (for now), doesn’t wake. All good signs of a good night. 
Steve lets his head fall back onto little legs. “What about you?” he asks Dove, the second youngest daughter, where she sits behind him on the couch. 
She hums under her breath, her hands quick to weave into his hair, petting it away from his face. He waits for an answer he doesn’t get, closing his eyes and turning his face into her knee. Her giggles are treacle sweet. “Don’t sleep,” she protests. 
“I’m tired.” 
“It’s not bed time.” 
She’s not gonna like what Steve’s about to tell her, if that’s the case. She had a screaming tantrum last night about bed time where she threw herself on the floor and whacked her hands until her palms turned bright red. He’s not wanting a repeat. 
“It is bed time,” he says gently, though it’s not for another half an hour, “but, I was thinking, because you’ve been so good today you’d stay up extra. Maybe even have hot cocoa before bed.” Steve turns to meet her eyes. “How’s that sound?” 
“Really?” she asks, her eyes blowing wide with excitement. Steve is starting to wonder if she’s not as mini-me as he used to think, growing into sweeter features as she leaves the baby-toddler stage and starts to look like a kid. He loves it. 
“That sound fun or what?” 
She dives at him. He has enough sense to have twisted and catches her before she can break any of his teeth. “You are the best daddy ever!” she declares seriously, almost tipping over his shoulder. 
He lets her dangle for a second, then yanks her back topside. “You’re my best girl, that’s why. Let’s go make the drinks. Actually, we better go see who else wants some.” 
You and Bethie are attempting some last minute crafts at the dining table, and you’re very interested in hot chocolate but Beth doesn’t like it and so, doesn’t want any. She does seem interested in a glass of milk with a couple of chocolate chip cookies, so it’s nearly the same thing. “Careful,” he says, putting the half a pint of milk down in front of her birdhouse cautiously, “you don’t wanna spill that, baby.” 
“Who says she’s gonna spill it?” you ask. 
“Don’t start with me,” Steve warns. 
You smile to yourself. You’ve a spatula for PVA glue in your hand, skins of glue dried to your fingertips flecked with splinters of wood. Lollipop crafts felt like a good idea when he’d suggested it, but then he didn’t actually want to do it, and you’d been kind enough to step in. I’m sick of mess, he’d confided. 
Well, you’d said, somewhere between a quick kiss pressed to his shoulder and your hand rubbing it away, you probably shouldn’t have asked me to have so many kids. 
I love mess, he’d corrected immediately. Love to make more of it someday. 
“We’re nearly done in time for bed,” you assure him now. 
“I told Dove she could have an extra half an hour.” He winks at you clumsily. 
“Oh, really? Well, maybe Beth and Avery should get some extra time too.” 
Beth dunks her cookie into the top of her cup. “No thanks. I’m tired. Can I sleep with Avery again?” she asks, milk dribbling down the sides of the glass to darken the coaster underneath. 
“You’ll have to ask her yourself,” Steve says. “Wait, where is she? I thought she was in here.” Something grabs him by the legs, a sudden clutching that activates a heat in his eyes and spine he can’t explain. He flinches sideways into a cabinet and almost steps on a rather small limb. “What the fuck.” 
“Boo!” Avery says, laughing brightly as Steve rights himself on the counter. 
“Avery! Did I step on you? I’m sorry,” he says, immediately bending down. “What were you thinking? I could’ve really hurt you!” 
“Daaad, I was just pulling a prank,” she says. 
He checks over the arm he was so sure he’d stepped on. “You okay?” 
“She’s fine,” you say. “Yeah?” 
“I’m fine!” She hugs his legs again. “You said a super bad word.” 
He was hoping everybody missed that. “Dove–”
“Dad,” Dove interrupts, kicking her little feet exactly where he left her sitting on the dinner table by your left, “bad words make me cry.” She says it all clunky and clumsy, having heard it enough times. Her Aunt Robin has a potty-mouthed girlfriend, and Steve can’t do damage control quick enough sometimes.
“No, it’s when you say bad words daddy cries,” Avery says. 
“I didn’t say one!” 
“I know! I just mean it’s not when dad says it.” 
“What?” Dove asks. “He did says it.”
You’re grinning. You love when Dove confuses herself, all kids go through it, where half the time they don’t know what they’re saying until you help them along, but you love Dove’s new phase especially because she’s always been so serious. “What Avery is telling you, baby, is that daddy doesn’t get upset when he says bad words because he’s a grown up.” 
“So when we’re older we can cuss too?” Bethie asks. 
Steve’s jaw drops. “No, Beth! No, none of you need to say bad words, and I don’t either, and I’m really sorry. Can we forget about it?” 
Steve makes hot chocolate and helps you clean the sorry mess you’ve made on the table, and, after some light teasing, everybody forgets he’d reacted so violently to Avery’s surprise. Well, almost. Dove is the first to succumb to a case of the sleepies despite being otherwise reluctant to give in, sitting on his thigh, marshmallows still whole in her drink. She’d barely managed four sips. 
Steve cuddles her to his chest, covering her ear where she nuzzles against him from the sounds of your and Avery’s giggling. “He went pale,” you’re saying. 
Beth offers Steve half of one of her cookies. “You didn’t,” she says. 
If he didn’t have his arms full of Dove he’d scoop her up. “Thank you, Beth. I love you.” 
“I love you too.” 
“Alright,” you say, twining your fingers and sliding them behind your head, your neck and back clicking audibly in the quiet of the Harrington house winding down, “I think it’s bedtime. Are you done with your drink?” 
You rinse the cups. Steve ferries Dove upstairs, has her down and tucked in in record time, soon enough to catch you as you and the rest of the girls make your way upstairs. Beth and Avery are beautifully silent, weary of their sensitive baby sister where she’s cradled to your chest. 
You attempt to put her down in her crib in your room, but Steve gets the feeling you aren’t successful when a crackly cry breaks out. 
“Oh, no,” Avery says. 
“It’s fine. Let’s go brush our teeth, okay? Mommy has it.” 
They brush their teeth. Steve wipes their faces down with a damp hand towel and has a moment of gratitude just touching their faces. They both look so loved, the way their eyes crinkle, the way they lift their chins, all too happy for Steve to do it. He loves these moments of being a dad most, he might say, second only to getting to talk to them, especially now they’re both holding conversation. They talk to each other none stop; Beth talks to Avery ten times as much as she does anyone else. 
“Are you having a sleepover again?” Steve asks. 
Beth turns to Avery pleasingly. “Can I? Please, please, please.” 
“Yes!” Avery says, big sister extraordinaire. She wraps her arms around Beth’s shoulders, taller, more aware of herself as she presses her cheek to Beth’s and mumbles, “Of course you can. I love you. I want us to have sleepovers every night.” 
You emerge from the bedroom victorious, heading into the bathroom as he and the girls come out. “I’m just gonna brush my teeth,” you say. 
“Gonna get Beth changed.” 
“Okay, I put her nightie on the foot of her bed earlier.” 
It’s routine but not without enjoyment. He makes sure they’re both comfortable in the night's sleepwear and takes care of their hair, before giving Avery’s room a quick half-clean and shaking out the sheets on her bed. Avery has the second biggest bedroom, though Bethie’s is nothing to turn your nose up at, and it gets Steve thinking as they climb up into Avery’s single bed. 
“I think it’s good for you guys to keep your separate rooms for now,” Steve says tentatively, “but what do you think about sharing?” 
The plan was that Dove and Wren would share, but if Avery and Beth are getting along so well, it might not hurt to ask. 
Beth gasps. “Our bedrooms?” 
“Like, you and Avery could both sleep in here. You have a bunk bed, or we could get you a big one to share, and you could share teddies.” 
“I don’t want to share my teddies,” Avery says. 
“Well, you don’t have to. I’m not gonna make you.” Steve squints at them both. “Bad idea?” 
“I want to share,” Beth says immediately. 
Avery has a better understanding of what that will mean. “Maybe.” 
“You don’t have to,” Steve says. “Your rooms are yours, okay? Maybe we can just get you a bigger bed anyways, Ave. You’re so tall now, in a couple of years you’ll be ten feet tall and we’ll have to bend you in half to get you to school.” 
This is the funniest thing a man could say, apparently —both Beth and Avery burst into girly giggles that ring down the landing. Beth sounds like she might be sick. She laughs so much, falling into Avery’s side as her big sister says, “Dad, that’s silly!” 
“I can show you, if you want. We’ll practise making you into an Avery flavour pretzel, c’mere.” 
She squeals and climbs over Beth’s legs to huddle in the corner of her bed. Steve doesn’t so much as touch her legs and she’s laughing again, panicked, hyper laughter like she can’t decide if she wants to be folded or not. He presses his finger over his smile. “Shh, shh, we can’t wake the babies.” 
“Sorry,” she laughs. 
“My fault. Don’t be sorry.” He gives her leg a squeeze. “How about we start to tuck you in, girls? Do we have everything we need?” 
Beth wants a few things from her own bed, but besides that, they’re ready. Well, they’re supposed to be ready, but Steve wound them up and it’s his own fault, he can’t even complain when they beg him to watch a movie. What’s the harm? he decides, turning on Avery’s TV and pushing their favourite tape into the VHS player. 
“The effect FernGully has on the new generation is amazing,” you say, wiping your eyes. You’ve changed into pyjama pants Steve’s sure you’ve had since you met him and a tank top with straps falling down your shoulders. He wants to pull them back over the curve of your shoulder, but he’s trying to be less smothering.
He fluffs the pillows behind the girls’ backs. “It’s the boy. What’s his name? Dennis? Daniel?” 
“Neither.” You put a fallen teddy back on the bed and turn on Avery’s star-shaped night light before flicking off the big light above. The TV glows green on their legs. 
“Gonna lie down?” Steve says, gentler now, easing them in. 
Avery flops back. Beth curls in on her side, and it reminds Steve of you and him. He can sleep any which way. You’re slightly more particular, but you’re happier curled on to him. He really loves how close they are as sisters, and he has to give Avery some credit, because while Beth is exceedingly easy to love, she’s a clinger, she worships her big sister, which must get heavy from time to time. 
Avery pulls the blankets up over them before Steve can do it himself. He sighs, tucking them both in. Blankets pushed gently under their sides, hair brushed back from their little faces, he says, “Love you, Ave. Love you, Beth,” kissing their foreheads in swift succession. “I’ll see you in the morning, okay?” 
“Love you, daddy,” they say at the same time. 
You touch his arm gently before leaning in for your own kisses. You’re slower than he’d been, turning their faces in your hand one after the other to place identical kisses on their cheeks. “Love you, sweetheart,” you say to Avery, and, “Love you, baby,” you say to Beth. Steve holds your back as you do. “Have good dreams, okay? And don’t mess with the TV. One movie tonight is enough, you’ll wake up with sore eyes.” 
He steals another kiss from both of them and then you’re closing the door behind you, the house much darker and quieter than it had been only ten minutes previous. 
“You want a glass of water?” Steve says. 
You catch his hand. “I got you one.” 
Neither you nor Steve bother with anything but bed. He draws back the blankets and you climb in, only stopping momentarily to make sure that Wren’s alright in her crib. You curl in the middle of the bed and wait for Steve to force his way beneath you, which he does, your face resting on his shoulder, your leg stretched across his. Your hip is a lump in the blankets. He lets his hand fall atop it, whistling a tired breath through his teeth. 
“Mm,” you agree, stretching out, curling in tighter. 
“I know,” he says. Can’t forget his best girl, can’t not think about how much he loves you when it’s you and him alone. Mostly. “You alright?” 
“Fine. Tireder than I thought.” Your eyes close, lashes brushing his chest. “H?” 
“What?”
“You okay?”
“Fine, honey. Was just asking you,” he mumbles. His pillow feels like a cloud beneath his head, the mattress even better, and the sheets are a brushed cotton that’s amazingly soft on his skin. 
He turns his nose down onto you for a not so secret sniff. 
“Feels too good to be true.” 
“My turn tonight,” he says. 
“No, baby, it’s my turn.” 
“That’s fine.” He’s not as tired as you, or at least not half as achy. If Wren wakes up crying (not definitely going to happen) or Dove has a late night startle (even less likely, though not impossible), he’ll take the burden tonight. “I wanted babies and I got ‘em.”
“I want them too,” you say. 
“Of course you do,” he says, rubbing your forehead with the tip of his nose affectionately. “That’s not what I meant.” 
“Less when they wake me up,” you joke. 
Steve feels up your side to your shoulder for a sleepy cuddle. You don’t realise how soft you can be, how warm you are pressed against him like this, how grateful he is to hold you. Maybe you can read his mind, or maybe as just pure evidence of such a feat, you cup his upper arm in your hand and begin to draw shapes over his skin, breaking the pattern with fleeting scratches. “Are you sure?” 
“Yeah, honey. I’m sure. You go to sleep now, okay? It’s Saturday tomorrow,” he whispers tenderly. “You don’t have anywhere to be.” 
“‘Cept here,” you whisper back. 
“Love you.” A brush of his lips to your eyebrow. “Goodnight, sweetheart.” 
“I love you.”
“I love you,” he says. He swears he’s gonna stay up for a bit and count your eyelashes or something, maybe pen you a love poem, write a note about your lips and how they pout when you’re nearly sleeping, but he forgets to when you press your face into the curve of his neck and kiss it clumsily. You fall asleep at the same time, the girls laughing in whispers just a few feet away behind the wall.  
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king!steve pulling his girl into some quiet room at a party just to kiss her neck and ask her when they can go home, all pouting and begging because he just wants to spend all night kissing and cuddling her but everyone else always thinks its her dragging him home because they miss the grin on his lips when they head out the door <3
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bettysupremacy · 3 days
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congrats on the jobbbbb!!!! you’re gonna be the cutest ice cream scooper evaaa (close tie to Steve) 🍦
Could I please request something where you’re the cute new hiree at scoops and Steve has to teach you the ropes while crushing a little (are we sensing a theme?)
thank you beautiful I loved writing this he’s such a nerd
“Okay,” Steve sighs heavily, leaning his weight onto the counter. “And this is where we make the cones.”
“Got it.”
“You might think ‘how hard could this be?’, well, you’d be surprised-“
“It was only hard for you!” Robin yells from behind the counter.
Steve laughs, welcoming the tease. “Yes, she’s totally right. It really was only hard for me.”
He shines in the fluorescent light of the sailor themed shop. The lights are actually loud, louder in your nervousness than you assume for him. His hair is big, swooping over and curling at the nape of his neck. He wears no hat, but you can assume why.
“Would you like her to teach you?”
You shake your head adamantly. Steve’s cute. Really cute. You’d seen him around town before, glimpses of a boy seemingly untouched by the hurdles of life, but you hadn’t known he’d worked here. Robin had given you the application as she had laid in your bed. Music played, the windows were down, the warm summery air drifted through the windows smelling of grass, and the both of you had collapsed silently on your twin.
“Please.” She had said, and you’d agreed.
But you didn’t know Steve worked here as well. Maybe Robin held that on purpose. You’d been to his house once. Once, for a party. It wasn’t lame and neither was his home. Tall ceilings, pretty staircases and family portraits. Why did he work here for $3 an hour? Steve doesn’t seem to know either.
“I’m very clumsy — I burn myself a lot — please ignore it.”
“I promise.”
He teaches you the mechanics of the waffle machine. It’s really simple actually, a lot simpler than he made it seem. The batter is pre-made, shipped once a week and held in the small fridge they desperately need to upgrade. Pour it in, wait 30 seconds, flip, and wait thirty seconds again. He’d burned himself pulling it out, hissing, but never faltering.
It’s golden and warm, crunchy and smelling softy of vanilla. He holds it until it’s no longer hot, and then hands it to you.
“Here,” he shrugs. “Eat your first creation.”
“Really?”
“It’s already touched my hands.” He smiles innocently. “I can’t tarnish our A+ health inspection.”
Your smile is shy as you grab it. “Thank you.”
“Mhm.”
You bite it carefully, tearing off a piece for him to eat. He takes it from your nimble fingers, eyeing the blue nail polish that cracks on your fingertips.
“So..” Steve’s awkward. “I heard you’ve known Robin awhile?”
You break off another piece of and pop it on your mouth. “Definitely awhile.”
“She’s cool,“ He smiles fondly. “Or whatever, but yeah.”
“Yeah.” You laugh a little at his redirection.
“Also,” he adds messily. “They say you have to wear the hat but..” he leans in to whisper cheekily. “screw company policy.”
You laugh loudly, startled at his closeness.
He goes to say something, pink lips parting before he’s cut off by Robin. All he can get out his a huff a breath and dully you notice you’re staring at his lips. You think he’s noticed too.
“Y/N!” Robin yells from the ice cream stand. “Get out here and let me teach you the scooper!”
You turn, smiling in the direction of your short haired friend.
“Guess I’ve gotta quit slacking.” You murmur.
“See you soon.” He’s remorseful.
“See you soon.” You amuse a little, walking towards the swinging door. He walks too.
“Right,” He bumps into you, laughing nervously. “Sorry.”
You smile, talking over him. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” He cringes.
The door swings behind you, letting glimpse of laughter from the bustling store through. He sighs, palm to his eyes.
Yeah, he’s pretty cute.
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k33ry · 13 hours
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💕✨💖💫 💕✨💖💫 💕✨💖💫 💕✨💖💫
Older!Dilf!Steve Harrington x afab reader • Explicit content, minors do NOT interact!! • fic includes daddy kink, praise, unprotected sex • Steve’s in his forties, reader is ten-twenty years younger than him <3
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💕✨💖💫 💕✨💖💫 💕✨💖💫 💕✨💖💫
Steve’s lips were pressed to your cheek, his voice slightly taunting when he spoke… “It’s barely even in, angel, and you’re already shaking…?” Although he was right, you didn’t miss the subtle strain in his voice. For all of Steve’s bravado and talk of restraint, he was obviously struggling to control himself, too. He’d barely fit the first three inches of his cock inside you, but it already felt like you were stuffed full…
Steve curved his hips upward, forcing himself another two inches deeper inside you. The length of his cock was impressive, but it was his girth that had your eyes watering. You clenched your jaw and let Steve have you, trusting that he knew what was best for you. “Fuck, honey,” Steve marveled, his voice breathy. “Feel how she pushes back on me…?” His eyes fluttered closed in pleasure, one corner of his mouth turning up in a satisfied grin.
“Think I’m gonna have to break her in a little,” Steve murmured, his voice saccharine, thickened by lust. “Teach her a lesson or two…” He rocked his hips back and forth slowly, stroking your moist, spongy center with a firm but delicate pressure. “…Teach her that it’s rude to push back on her Daddy…To tell him no…”
You moaned softly as Steve sank his cock deeper still, at least six inches filling you at this point. He sucked his lower lip between his teeth, panting against your hair. “You’re doin’ such a good job, princess,” Steve gently reminded you, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. His cock pulsed inside you, twitching against your plump, dewy walls.
Steve’s left hand palmed reassuringly up and down your back, his right hand cradling your neck. Your legs were wrapped around Steve’s waist as you sat in his lap, his belt and pants undone. Steve had pulled the crotch of your panties aside, pausing to rub the slippery fabric between his thumb and index finger, smiling to himself at your evident arousal. He’d pressed his pink, leaking tip inside the crotch of your panties, and let you rock back and forth over his erection awhile, slicking his cock in your cum, preparing it for yourself.
When Steve was satisfied that you were ready to take him, he’d held his cock by the base and maneuvered his tip so it was resting against your entrance, gently spreading your outer lips apart. With a reassuring kiss against your forehead, Steve had lowered you carefully onto his cock, trying his best not to hurt you. But fuck, you were so goddamn tight, so responsive to his touch, that Steve was struggling not to let his urges overtake him and bury himself to the balls inside you all at once.
He could feel your walls beginning to flutter and constrict around him; Steve knew you were getting close. “No no no,” he murmured at your cheek; you whimpered against his shoulder. “You’re not pushin’ me out, sweet girl, not yet.” Steve tightened his arms around you, securing you in place as your legs began to quiver at his sides. “Good girl,” he purred as your orgasm began to bloom. “That’s a good girl-go on, come as hard as you need to, baby; Daddy’s got you; you’re not goin’ anywhere…”
Even though Steve was right, you certainly felt like you were going to buck off his lap at any moment, your body wracked in a climax so intense, you may well have ended up injuring yourself if Steve hadn’t been holding you down. He remained still while you bounced up and down on his cock like a little bunny, your eyes squeezed shut, the muscles in your forehead contorted in a vivid expression of pleasure.
Every ounce of strength left your body during the orgasm, depleting you entirely and forcing you to hang limp as a rag doll against Steve’s chest for support. He smiled warmly down at you, tilting your chin up to face him. “Now it’s Daddy’s turn to come,” Steve said, his hands gliding down your sides. He secured your body by your hips as he fucked up into you. Every upward thrust of Steve’s cock buried him deeper and deeper inside you, your sopping cunt even slicker after coming, making it easier for Steve to take you.
His forehead fell to your shoulder, breath hot and moist as Steve panted against your tits. He bullied your grateful, exhausted cunt like his life depended on it, punching upward with so much force that his cock disappeared to his bush inside you. Steve locked his arms around your shoulders, gripping you snug against his chest as his body tensed all over. His grunts of exertion dissolved into a broken string of expletives as he emptied his release inside you. Warm, thick loads of semen coated your walls as Steve’s cock pulsed and pumped his ejaculate into you. A light sheen of sweat appeared all over his skin, highlighting Steve’s handsome features in the warm afterglow of his orgasm.
He licked his lips before taking your tongue as his possession, sucking and savoring it. Although Steve was rarely lost for words, he found it difficult in moments like this to describe all the emotions flooding through his heart, body, and mind. So rather than use his tongue to speak, Steve found another use for it. He lifted you off his lap, and gently placed you on your back. Settling himself between your thighs, Steve used his tongue to clean up the mess he’d made inside you, catching every last drop of his seed as it leaked warm and white from your precious, pouty cunt… 💖
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chelseeebe · 3 days
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‘til the world caves in: something in the orange
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mdni 18+. smut. exfamous!steve x female reader. zombie apocalypse au! mentions of guns and violence throughout. no use of y/n!
a/n: this is my new iteration of the apocalypse au! i dabbled with it before but actually rlly like this one, matter of fact, most of the chapters are written already lmfao:) the famous part rlly is just there for this oneee specific scene i had in mind for a later part but it’s something different i guess
nobody cares who you are in the apocalypse. well, maybe except for you.
life before the outbreak had been weird enough for steve, his band had just started their rise to fame when all this shit went down.
it wasn’t exactly where he wanted to be at 19 but money and fame weren’t anything he was gonna say no to.
and then news broke that people had started eating each other’s faces and now he was no longer this up and coming star, rather just some guy trying to stay alive with some girl he’d met fleeing new york.
six years was more than enough time for them to become best friends, travelling through various camps and groups of people before they ended up somewhere in the middle of indiana.
steve’s never been here before and he wishes he wasn’t here now.
there’s nothing for miles and now robin’s leg is fucked, he thinks it might be the end.
the buttfuck town of hawkins indiana would be their demise.
they’d collapsed on the fence of some building, too dehydrated and tired to care. accepting a certain death as robin cries softly next to him, their fingers entwined as death awaits.
they were pretty delirious when they were picked up by some group. a tall man with a thick moustache and a lady with a sweet voice, helping them across town to their compound.
he’s not entirely sure what had happened when they’d arrived, he’d been bustled into a room and remembers collapsing on the bed with a pounding in his head before blacking out.
-
turns out he was out for days, waking up in the dark confines of a tiny box room with nothing else around him. admittedly, the lack of robin in his immediate vicinity scared the shit out of him.
all he can remember is that her leg was infected and her head was starting to hurt which was never a good sign.
a small, curly haired lady bursts into the room, startled to see him standing, “oh! you’re awake! great,” she smiles.
“where am i?” he asks, like a petrified child.
“you’re in hawkins,” she nods, “you were in a pretty bad state when we found you.”
nothing had ever felt so befuddling, jolting him back into survival mode as he realises his bag was nowhere to be found.
“where’s robin? we need to.. we have to go,” steve rushes, fearing the worst.
“she’s good, i think she was in the cafeteria.. we can go and get some food if you’d like?” the kind lady offers, pity in her eyes.
he nods, sceptical as he follows her out of the room and through the massive doors. there’s laughter from the other side, amazed at the sight of the light bulbs glowing white. electricity. nothing like the candles and flashlights they’d been using for years.
robin jumps up from the table the second he walks through, hobbling over with a few grunts and groans.
“you’re awake! oh my god steve, i’ve been so worried,” she frets, throwing her arms around his neck, trying to ignore the stares from the strangers in the room.
“you’re okay? i thought..” he exhales, not wanting to finish his sentence. “i don’t know.. fuck,” now robin was here and alive and in his arms, the overwhelming feeling of ten people gawping at him sinks in.
there’s nothing familiar about this place, it’s nothing like the places they’d stayed in, it feels like before.
“come get some food,” robin ushers, placing her hand on his back and very slowly walking to the table, “it’s nice here,” she leans in to whisper, “everyone’s super nice, they even have electricity!” she marvels, helping him to the empty seat.
she pushes her plate towards him, beans and some sort of meat. he hadn’t had a substantial meal in what felt like months, living off of foraged cans and jerky.
the crowd seems to back off at this point, leaving him and robin to eat. to try and digest this place despite feeling like he was in some crazy dream.
“we found some stragglers, out at the old school,” he hears a voice from behind, talking about himself and robin, “they were in pretty bad shape.”
steve doesn’t look around, continuing to eat his portion of robin’s dinner instead.
turns out he didn’t have to, as you arrive at his table, shotgun still strapped to your back and a thick layer of dirt all over your face.
“you the new guys?” you ask, looking between him and robin.
“yeah,” answering for the both of them, “robin,” extending her hand to meet yours.
you shake it, with a small, wary smile before turning your attention to steve, eyes narrowed as if you’re trying to place him.
“i remember you,” smiling with the side of your mouth, sizing him up. “steve harrington,” saying his name with such conviction, “newest member of in motion, weren’t you?”
he’s surprised that anyone would even care to remember him or the shitty boy band he was coerced into, “i mean, i was.. doesn’t really matter now though, right?”
you hum and he’s not sure whether it’s positive or not, “i used to be a fan,” steve couldn’t fathom someone like you ever being a fan of the shitty corporate pop he used to make. “maybe you can perform for us some day.”
it’s the first time in years that anyone has recognised him from before. unsure of how it makes him feel.
-
steve had presumed that he and robin were doing pretty well, they were alive weren’t they?
he’d found out that actually, neither of the two knew a single thing about proper, adequate survival skills and had gotten by with some grace of god.
he could shoot a gun, at least he thought he could. they typically just aimed and shot and hoped for the best rather than all of this.
you kick his feet further apart, barking shoulder width into his ear for the umpteenth time. it’s pretty hard to focus when you’re standing right behind him with your soft lips brushing against his ear every few seconds.
robin takes to it like a duck on water, keeping her arms straight and the gun in line with her eye. how the fuck does she know all of this shit?
steve fires and subsequently misses the makeshift target, cursing under his breath with a nasty side eye to robin who hits it straight in the drawn on face.
“steve,” you warn, walking over to him with a slight frown, “keep it steady, that kick back is no joke.”
he pulls a face, realigning the gun to his eye and tries again.
missing the target entirely this time.
“okay,” you sigh, the feel of your arms wrapping around his startle him for a second before the rest of your body presses against his back.
oh god.
it’d look pretty weird if he popped a boner while on shooting practice, he thinks.
it’s not as if human contact is a thing he encounters regularly, how was his body supposed to know the difference?
your chin rests on his shoulder, peering over at the target, hands coming to sit atop of his sweaty ones as you aim for him.
“that good?” you ask, breath tickling his ear.
it felt good, felt very good actually. your chest flat against his back, his breathing falling into to time with yours.
“ye- yup,” he flutters, almost choking on the words.
steve get it together.
“so go,” you order.
his finger presses the trigger, the bullet flies through the target, straight between the eyes.
“there you go!” you celebrate, the warmth of your body on his disappearing as you come to join him at his side.
he and robin share a look, robin’s smirk was unmistakable, steve knew what she was thinking, somehow he always did.
“go again, just you this time,” nodding with encouragement.
his thoughts are jumbled, preoccupied with the want for you to touch him again. just this time, maybe somewhere more private.
but he does it. the painted on silhouette is hit straight through the forehead, garnering a whoop from robin.
“you’re getting the hang of it,” you smile, fingers brushing over his as you take the gun from his hand. it makes him shiver, electricity pulsing between you. “don’t worry, we can come back out here another day,” sharing a look that lingers just a little too long.
you collect robin’s gun and announce something about lunch but steve can’t focus, still attempting to collect himself from a puddle on the floor.
“man, if you don’t get in there, i’m going to,” robin quips, slapping him quite harshly on the back.
“fuck off,” he hits back, trying to shake the loud, intrusive voice in the background of his mind.
there wasn’t much time for love and relationships while he had to fight the undead. a small part of him wonders if maybe now it’s possible, in here, with you.
okay, he’s definitely getting ahead of himself.
-
you don’t help steve’s delusions when you join him and robin at their table for breakfast, making sure to slide into the seat directly opposite just so he can try not to choke on his food.
“you guys settling in okay?” you ask, not really looking at robin at all, eyes glued to his.
“y-yeah, it’s nice here,” he sputters, trying to focus on the bowl of porridge in front of him.
“good,” you smile, sickeningly sweet.
robin’s foot swiftly connects with his leg, coughing on his mouthful as he returns the favour. he knows what she’s getting at, he’d divulged his fantasies to her a couple nights ago.
they’d been allocated separate rooms but hadn’t dared to separate yet, holing up in steve’s bed as they got used to this place.
you look up again, as if you want to ask something, “i think uh.. a few of the kids found out you were in a band and they wanted to know if you’d sing for them at some point?”
steve narrows his eyes, not forgetting that you’d already revealed yourself as a fan, “they asked?” quirking his brow.
your lips pucker, jabbing at your food in an attempt to hide, “well..” looking up at him through spindly lashes, “maybe not just them.”
he feels this intangible sensation in his chest, a burning that aches his insides.
“okay,” he smiles, managing to keep it down, “i’ll sing for y- them,” hoping no one pulls him on his freudian slip, cheeks burning scarlet.
your eyes light up, the whole world encapsulated within your iris’, a sight he already dreamed of.
he feels like a teenager again, wondering if the pretty girl on the other side of the table liked him back.
-
“ready?” you nod, slinging your backpack over your shoulder.
steve’s been anxiously awaiting his first shift on watch, scared about the prospect of accidentally fucking up and someone dying or something like that.
so for his first shift, he’d been graciously paired with you on the back wall. he’s been told there’s never much action there, usually a few stray infected but nothing too serious.
it doesn’t help that you’re in some ridiculously skimpy vest with the tightest pants he’s seen. there’s not a chance in hell that he’ll be able to keep his mind focused.
the pair of you stroll over to the wall, climbing the rusty old tower and relieving argyle and will from their positions.
grateful that you were given the evening shift as the hot july sun is setting and the breeze is beginning to kick in.
you immediately slump into the camp chair, slinging your bag from your back and kicking your heavy boots off, clunking against the metal as they land.
“so.. now we just sit here?” steve asks, cocking a brow at your relaxed disposition.
“yup,” nodding along as you squint up at him. “back wall’s never too exciting, i bet we don’t see a soul.”
“yeah.. okay,” he nods too, taking a seat in the adjacent camp chair, praying for a quiet night.
time ticks on for what must be hours, the courtyard had gone quiet and all he can really hear is your gentle breaths and a cricket somewhere in the long grass.
it must be gone 2am by now and you’d not seen a single thing, not even any infected.
steve can feel your eyes on him, not daring to look over until you start speaking.
“bored yet?”
he shakes his head, he wasn’t. this was pretty exhilarating if he was honest. every time you spoke to him, his heart rate seemed to soar.
“no, no this is nice.”
“the quiet?” you question, tilting your head to the side.
“yeah.. i feel like i haven’t really stopped since we got here.”
there’d been copious amounts of training and the like since he had properly recovered. nancy had shown him how to tie and set up traps. dustin had attempted to explain how you guys had power, though he couldn’t really grasp it.
and you, you had shown him how to shoot and fight and how to use a knife correctly rather than just flailing it around and hoping for the best.
“you’re not a bad watch partner, some of them are so annoying,” rolling your eyes in jest, snickering quietly.
steve smiles, genuinely. he hadn’t really experienced anyone other than robin’s company for a long time and while he loved her to death, it was nice to speak to someone else.
“you’re not too bad yourself,” shying away after his pathetic attempt at flirting.
there had been a fair amount of consideration and a perhaps a little bit of delusion but he had dwelled on it and came to the conclusion that he really liked you.
probably more than he should do at this point.
you pout your lips, considering something before starting, “you know.. there’s something else we could do to pass the time..”
he stares, befuddled for a moment until the glint in your eye makes it all click.
“oh,” is all that comes out of his suddenly very dry mouth.
there’s a flash of hurt and maybe embarrassment on your face, “or not.. i mean- i was just.. forget it,” squeezing your eyes shut as your palm hits your forehead.
“no! god no! i didn’t think you’d want to.. y’know, here..” terrified that he had screwed up his one chance.
not only would he have to leave hawkins, he’d probably have to curl up and die somewhere out of sheer embarrassment and regret.
“i wouldn’t have asked if i didn’t want to,” you shrug, uncurling from your blushing state.
steve almost falls from the rickety chair, “of course i do.. is it a good idea?” motioning over the wall somewhere, “with the watch and stuff..” eager to not disappoint the rest of his new group mates.
“we haven’t seen a thing all night.. we’re not being relieved for another few hours.”
“i don’t.. i don’t think i’ll need a few hours,” hell, ten minutes would be fairly optimistic.
a smirk nudges at your lips, standing from your chair to perch in front of him, hands on his shoulders as you take one last quick peek around.
“you’re sure?” you ask, as if he wasn’t gazing up at you like some pathetic puppy dog right now.
“so sure,” nodding enthusiastically. hesitant to touch you until you smile down at him, egging him on.
“get on the floor,” you instruct, still leering over the metal barriers, “just in case.”
he does as he’s told, sitting back against the wall with a lopsided grin as his heart rate increases tenfold.
it’d been years since he’d had sex. he supposes there was that one girl at the third or fourth camp they were in but she was pretty weird and a little obsessive. it only happened once and then he couldn’t bring himself to do it again.
but you’re smiling now, resting on his thighs and he thinks his heart might give out. there’s no certainty that he’ll even be able to last long enough for you to get any enjoyment from it but he’s willing to try.
a moment passes, eyes locked as you lean down, pressing a gentle yet excited kiss to his lips, it’s more human contact than he’s had in years.
you waste no time, fumbling with the button on his pants, sighing as you pop the button, waiting for him to return the honour.
steve lifts both of your bodies, barely kicking his jeans off before you sit back down, his fingers tingling with pure excitement as they unbutton your pants.
they end up somewhere in the pile of discarded clothes, focusing your attention back on his lips, carelessly connecting your lips.
your hips rock back and forth, sending a deep grumble from his throat to yours as his dick twitches in his boxers. he might as well not even bother to actually have sex, he was about to cum right then and there.
it’s made worse when your middle and index finger slide into the waistband of his boxers, struggling to stay afloat as you tug the material down just under his balls, cock springing up the second it’s freed.
you position your hands on his shoulders, looking down at him with wet lips, the only sounds are the crickets watching this degeneracy.
your hands find their place on his shoulders, holding yourself up while his fist finds his cock, lining himself up with your entrance, heart rate skyrocketing as you gasp above him.
his fingernails graze your skin, leaving indentations in the soft flesh, unable to contain the husky groan that escapes his lips.
your palm slaps over his mouth immediately, eyes wide as your hips rock, “you have to be quiet,” you hush though the smirk tugging at your lips tells him you’re not angry.
steve feels electric, pulsing through his veins with every slight movement you make, garbling into your palm when your pace quickens.
bouncing on his cock, making the entire structure creak and wobble.
he realises now that it’s silent, how obvious the sounds of sex are, skin slapping against skin as you squeak and grunt alongside it.
you’re insane, keeping your hand firmly over his mouth as you use his shoulder for leverage, rolling your hips and squeezing around him.
he’s about ready to cum already, there’s no surprise there. but he’s trying his hardest to hold out, to let you get something from this before he blows his load.
clinging on to your hips for dear life as they roll, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks while he turns to utter mush behind your hand.
“oh shit,” you whine, clit nudging against his pubic bone, louder than he could ever be.
that’s it, hearing you whine sends his stomach lurching, with barely enough time to life your body from his lap before he explodes.
hips stuttering into the air as you watch with bated breath, still covering his mouth as a series of expletives tumble out, muffled and breathless.
steve’s never felt so embarrassed and yet so good all at once, the back of his head thwacking against the metal panel as he floats back to earth.
you rest atop of his thighs, nibbling on the skin of your bottom lip. there’s a silence that makes him want to crawl up the side of the barrier and let infected rip him apart.
he wants to apologise for his premature ejaculation, a little ashamed that he couldn’t prove himself to you but before he can conjure up the appropriate apology, your finger tilts his chin upwards, to meet your eyes.
you stifle it for a minute before bursting into a fit of giggles, “it’s okay.. maybe next time.”
albeit a very vague promise of a next time, steve starts to beam, still catching his breath as you shuffle off of his thighs, pulling your panties on as you lay back on the floor, gesturing for him to join you.
dawn breaks around the two of you, the birds rising to sing their song as you lay on the uncomfortable metal grates next to him.
it’s so serene, a picturesque view peeking from outside the little hut.
this is a feeling steve had thought he may never experience again, content with his life despite the rest of the world crumbling outside of the walls.
it’s something in the orange hue, an aching feeling that he owes to blind optimism. a spark of hope, remnants of a fear to lose anyone else.
to lose you.
your tongue pokes from the side of your lips, sighing softly, “there’s something i have to tell you.”
he turns, watching your face fall. apprehensively awaiting the harsh truth you were about to unleash.
“go on..”
this time you sigh loudly, exhausting the air from your lungs, “my ex.. lives here too. he’s out on a run to fort wayne at the moment but, they’re due back anytime now and i just need to pre-warn you that he’ll probably be a bit of an ass when he finds out.”
relief washes through his body. was that it?
crazy psycho exes weren’t something new to steve, albeit a long time since he’s had to even think about anything like that, but he doesn’t care.
“oh my god,” he exhales, “you scared me.. i thought you were ‘bout to say something crazy,” chuckling at his preemptive fear.
you whack his arm, “i’m being serious,” turning your head to glare at him, “he’s not.. the nicest person and he definitely won’t be nice about this.”
“what’s wrong with him?” steve asks, genuinely. they’d crossed paths with a lot of fucked up people in the six years since this had started but he had never believed that anyone truly bad could live somewhere as nice as this.
those places always seemed to crumble, he’d seen it enough times to know. people had taken the apocalypse as a means to become awful people, dictating the lives of everyone around them as if you weren’t all trying to do one thing.
survive.
you sigh, scrunching your nose, “he and his uncle have been here from the start of it all, helped build this place to what it is now. but his uncle, wayne, left a year back.. went to try and find his brother, eddie’s dad.. and now eddie’s just eternally pissed off about it.”
steve contemplates your words, knowing he’d probably also be incredibly infuriated too. family, real blood family, was a rarity nowadays. most people had lost most, if not all of any semblance of family by now. he was astounded to arrive here and find real family, joyce had her sons, nancy had mike, even lucas had his sister.
“oh.. that’s.. it’s understandable, i guess,” not quite finding the right words.
you nod, biting on the inside of your cheek. you’re holding something back, steve’s not sure what and he’s certainly not going to ask now. unwilling to ruin the moment.
“why’d you guys break up?” considering if he’d like to get in the middle of some complicated, messy situation.
for you? definitely.
“i dunno.. he was just so angry, he let it consume him,” a certain twinge of sadness to your tone.
“and he took it out on you?”
you scoff a little, “me and everyone else.. look, does it help if i say that he probably won’t shoot you?”
steve hums, “not really.”
that does it, brings your smile back as you crack up shaking hysterically as you turn back to the sky.
“i still think you should sing for us all,” changing the subject completely.
steve groans, wiping the layer of sweat from his forehead. before all this, he would’ve said that he preferred summer but now that there were corpses roaming the streets, he definitely favoured winter. that stench is something he’ll never forget, rotting flesh and hot july sun were not a good mix.
“didn’t i already agree to sing for the kids?” he teases.
you’re interrupted from any further begging as nancy’s voice rings out from below, “hey guys? you there?” worry embedded into her voice.
“shit,” you hiss, shooting up as you grab your pants. “sorry.. sorry,” apologising for your lack of clothing and the accidental fright you’d given them.
“oh wow okay,” nancy bites from down below, laughing her head off, jonathan covers his eyes to give you a little privacy as you pull your jeans on, “how’d i know that you two were gonna fuck this up?”
“yeah yeah, shut up,” you rush, cheeks burning as you jump into your clothes.
steve shuffles over sliding his pants back on as he turns beetroot red, not only was this his first shift, it was also the first time he was showing everyone that he was a capable person to keep around. he’s not so sure they’ll agree now.
nancy and jonathan climb up the ladder, a bemused expression shared across their faces, “quiet night?” nancy asks, cocking her head to the side.
“something like that,” shrugging off her quick remarks as you grab your backpack and shove steve’s into his chest.
the two stand there gawping as steve flushes, stepping into his sneakers and attempts to hurriedly brush his hair into place. he wants to be embarrassed, really, but he’s still riding the high of you even kissing him.
“see anything interesting?” nancy bites, eyebrows raised expectantly.
“nope.”
“mhm i bet,” she smirks, her lips pursed as you shuffle past her, ignoring the smug look on her face as you climb down the ladder.
steve gives them both a little wave, still trying to hide his reddened cheeks as he follows you down from the perch.
you’re waiting for him at the bottom, tugging him away as the pair watch from above. it takes everything in him not to turn around and smile.
“y’wanna shower?” you ask, breaking the silence as you enter the building.
he damn near jumps into the air, clicking his heels together, suppressing his excitement with a simple nod, bounding along behind as you pull him along the corridor.
he’d take any shift if it meant ending up with you.
111 notes · View notes
theladybarnes · 1 day
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CRIMSON AND CLOVER: CHAPTER SEVEN
“What if I'm not good? What if I'm the monster?”
▸ summary: things get messy between the group and you feel as if you’re out of luck (&time) ▸ characters: steve harrington, eddie munson,dustin henderson, robin buckley, max mayfield, & nancy wheeler ▸ word count: 10k ▸ warnings: angst, semi-fluff, mentions of death, slight canon divergence ▸ series masterlist
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“I guess the old man taught me well, huh?”
 The sudden weight of falling down into the cold street hit you harder than you expected. Forcing you to reach out and grip onto the blue car behind you. Wait, you know this car. 
 “What?..” you whispered, taking a step back. It was Billy’s blue Camaro, still warm from being recently used. But you weren’t anywhere near his car– Your thoughts are cut off when you suddenly take in your dim reflection from the car window. 
 The entirety of your right eye was black and teary. Instead of being trapped in the mall again, you’re suddenly back from having just left the tunnels that had run beneath Hawkins. But if you're by Billy’s car then..
 Turning around, you nearly gasped at the sight of Billy. He’s healthier than the last time you saw him. No Flayer tentacles stuck in his chest. No dead look in his eyes. He was back to the regular asshole you knew before. The sight of his former appearance has you taken back. 
 “Billy..” you croaked, unsure what to say. “I-...”
 “She’s speechless.” Billy laughed, taking a step towards you. “What a nice change.”
 Every part of you is aware that this isn’t real, but seeing him before you is leaving your mind puzzled. “You should go inside, Billy.” you got out eventually, gesturing toward his home, but the moment you glanced over, you noticed it was gone. The land stripped down to just the gutted floor of the house. Only the lawn had been laid intact. 
 “I don’t have a home anymore. I don’t have anything.” he said slowly, voice dark as he inched closer. You tried to step back, but something about his tone had your feet frozen in place. He took the chance to stand behind you now, wrapping his arms around you in order to pull you close. 
 He was ice cold.
 “All because of you..” he said into your ear, tickling your skin with his cold breath. 
 “I didn’t..I didn’t do anything to you, Billy.”
 “Exactly,” he agreed. “You didn’t help me..you didn’t save me. You let me die, you let the flayer get me.” 
 His grip got tighter, causing you to wince out in pain. You had to get out of this. “Let me go.” you said calmly despite the chill that was now coming up your spine. “Billy, let me GO.”
 “It’s sad when you consider what’s happened,” he continued on, pressing his face against the side of yours. “Billy said that he loved you, tried to get back together with you, and you left him in the dust for a guy that wouldn’t even consider leaving town for you.” 
 There were so many alarms going off in your head but you couldn’t help but focus on one in particular. 
 “Billy? You mean yourself, right?” you asked, trying to turn your face to look at him. But he simply reached one of his cold arms up to pinch at your cheeks, forcing you to look at the empty lot in front of you. 
 “No one is ever going to pick you, you know? At the end of the day it’ll always be someone better, someone worth sticking around you. There’s no happy ending for you.” His lips ghosted around the base of your neck before he chuckled lightly against you. “No happy ending for us..”
 You shook your head, trying to get his daunting words out of your head. “I’m nothing like you..”
 That only made him even more amused, raising a laugh out of his chest. “We’re a lot alike, actually.” he hummed, “We use people for pleasure and toss them aside when they decide to go against what we want.”
 “I don’t do that.” you said, turning around enough to face him. He looked at you with a smirk before he pinched at your cheek. “I would never do that to anyone.” you added, swatting his hand away.
 “So you didn’t dump Steve for saying no to the big move?” he gasped, feigning shock. “Or better yet, you’re not ditching your poor Eddie after he left you alone to wander the forest? I mean, you didn’t even bother to let him speak. He’s probably beating himself up but you don’t care. Not when Stevie is giving you the ol’ love and attention you need. Which, let’s be honest, babydoll, is pretty shitty of you to use him for a quick fuck instead of talking things out. Thought that’s the sort of shit girls like to do.”
 His words cut through you like knives, dredging up thoughts you tried to bury deep down. But then, something shifted. Billy mentioned Eddie, someone he couldn't possibly have known about. Their paths never crossed once if you thought hard about it. 
 "You don't know Eddie," you said slowly, voice struggling between sounding calm and trembling. "How could you possibly know what I’ve done with him if you’re dead..”
 A sinister smile twisted Billy's lips as his grip tightened, sending searing pain coursing through your body. "He’s been watching you," he confessed, his voice dripping with malice. "And boy does he have plans for all of you..”
 The world around you began to fall apart. The dark sky falling apart like fabric unraveling to reveal a dark crimson sky. The distance etched with bursts of lightning to light up a world in an ominous glow. 
 “This isn’t happening..” you promised yourself, eyes squeezed shut, desperately trying to convince yourself that this was just a dream, that none of it was real.
 “Oh babydoll, did you still think this was just a dream?” (tick)
 The arms around you felt different, and you opened your eyes in time to see Billy back to looking like the night of mall fire. His eyes glistened with tears and smile oozed with the dark bloody liquid that seeped from all over his wounds. 
 “Time for a wake up call.” (tock)
 Before you could react, he shoved you with a force that sent you crashing to the ground. Landing hard on the unforgiving concrete that shot your body in instant pain. Just as you began to process what had just happened, a deafening roar filled the air.
 To your right, the blinding headlights of an oncoming car came into your vision, hurtling toward you at a terrifying speed. You barely managed to get your hands up to cover your face right as it was about to hit you.
 And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, you woke up.
 Gasping for air, you sat bolt upright in bed, heart racing with adrenaline. Sweat soaked your skin, and a sense of lingering dread clung onto you like a heavy cloak. The warm glowing light of the sun peeked through your curtains. Nothing like the red haunting sky that was in your dream. New day, new nightmare. You thought.
 “Hey, are you awake?” 
 Dustin burst into the room, nearly sending you back into panic mode as you scrambled to get out of the bed. Defensive position ready for the attack. The younger boy held onto the door knob in shock, holding a hand out too in case you were about to strike him.
 “Whoa,” he chuckled nervously, looking at you carefully. “You okay? You’re all sweaty.” 
 You licked over your lips, pushing back the hair away from your face. “I’m fine.” you nodded, trying to calm yourself down. “Just got spooked.”
 “Right,” he said slowly, skeptically, even. “Well, Steve called. Said he was going to head over here if you wanna shower or something before leaving.”
 Turning away from your cousin, you tried to gain some sort of control over yourself as you trudged over to your dresser. Picking out some clothes you could change into after your shower. But from behind you could feel Dustin lingering at the door, a familiar worry still in the air.
 “I’m fine, Dustin.” you said, before he could ask. You focused on the clothes before you gathered for your shower. “It was just a bad sleep.” 
 “You sure? Because..we’d all get if it you needed a day to jump back into–”
 “I said I’m fine!” you snapped, turning around finally. The glare on your face is enough to have him take a step back. As if your words were a slap to his face. Guilt quickly filled into your gut and you rubbed a hand over your tired face. “I’m sorry I’m just tired.”
 “I get it.” he cleared his throat, “I’ll be in the living room.”
 Without another word, he turned on his heels and made his exit. Not two minutes into the day and you were already messing things up again. 
 “Time for a wake up call.” 
 You shuddered at the words that repeated in your head and quickly left the room. Hoping for the shower to wash away the remnants of your latest nightmare and give you a chance to start the day fresh.
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 The car ride to the supermarket was spent mostly with Dustin yammering to Steve about the plans for today while you sat quietly in the back. The nightmare that pulled you out of your sleep still left you frazzled. Even with the help of a hot shower that tried to wash away the haunting memory. So while Steve kept checking over you now and then, you managed to keep to yourself until you guys arrived at the market. 
 Instantly Dustin wandered off in search of snacks for Eddie once inside. Leaving you and Steve to navigate the supermarket aisles together as a small awkward tension lingered in the air. You focused on gathering supplies, your mind preoccupied with thoughts of what would be enough to last Eddie for the unforeseeable future. 
 "Hey," Steve's voice broke through the silence, causing you to glance up from the decorated can of the Smurf’s Beef Ravioli you were inspecting. His curious gaze met yours, and you couldn't help but notice the worry etched into his features.
 "You look exhausted," he remarked softly, his tone filled with genuine concern.
 You wanted to sigh. 
 Of course Steve would be the first one today to distinctly look past all the makeup you expertly applied this morning to notice the exhaustion you were feeling. After the harsh nightmare, the bags in your eyes seemed to take a permanent residence. Offering a weary smile, you attempted to brush past his observation in order to change the mood. “Is that your subtle way of saying I look terrible?” 
 His eyes widened, worried for a second that you were being serious. “Of course not!” he scoffed, moving closer to you. “You’re gorgeous..but I can tell you look exhausted.” 
 You watched him carefully, waiting to see if he’d crack from the line of questioning, but when he tilted his head at you, keeping a worried gaze, you let out the withheld sigh, giving in a little bit. “I had a pretty harsh nightmare, don’t think I really slept well the whole night.”
 The palm of his hand met your cheek gently. Thumb rubbing against the soft skin before he reached over to push a piece of hair away from your face. "That bad, huh?" he murmured, looking at your features. "Why don't you let me stay over tonight? Just a friendly sleepover. You can wake me up if things get too intense."
 You couldn't help but chuckle at his offer. Recalling the past summer filled with nights of him on the pretense of just sleeping. "A sleepover, really? With just the two of us?"
 He shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. "It's not like it's the first time I've slept over at your place."
 You raised an eyebrow, unable to suppress a teasing grin from tugging on your face. “Well, if I recall correctly, we didn’t really sleep at those either.”
 A faint blush crept up Steve's cheeks, and he scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. "Okay, fair point," he admitted, a hint of embarrassment coloring his voice. "But seriously, I just want to help. You don't have to go through this alone."
 It would be so easy to say yes. Give in to that natural urge that always wanted the company of the man before you. To have him by your side and give you all the attention and care you know he would willingly give to you. But your nightmare played in your mind again and you couldn’t help but feel the familiar twist of guilt form in your stomach again. 
 You opened your mouth to decline the offer when a case of YooHoos was placed quickly into the cart. An out of breath Dustin wiped over the sweat from his forehead, looking between the two of you expectantly. “It’s almost ten and we still have to pick up the others. Let’s go.” 
 Steve looked over still waiting on an answer from you but all you could do is offer a meek smile. “All right,” you nodded to Dustin. “Let’s head out.” Without looking back, you made your way towards the registers. Stomach twisting more than ever now.
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 Thankfully picking up Robin and Max turned out to be quicker than expected. Max had taken the bus to the other girl’s house, making the trips cut down less after Dustin explained you’d also have to make a stop at the hilltop to use his Cerebro. And after some unsettling updates from the Hawkins police department, you all were able to finally make the drive over to the Lipton boat house.
 A part of you was slightly nervous to face Eddie again after yesterday. You never really felt the best after chewing out people you cared about. But add the hurt from the day before, plus the predicament with Steve, and the newest bit of information, your body was slowly aching in all sorts of places as you tried to navigate each feeling.
 “The streets should be busy today, most of Hawkins are probably over their hangovers from  Friday and have to go back to shopping for the week. We’ll have time to look for clues around the trailer later.” you heard Dustin say to everyone as he and Max took the lead towards the boat house. 
 “God,” you said suddenly, stopping in place. The days quickly calculated in your mind and you couldn’t help but feel another worry. Robin and Steve both turned at your voice, looking at you curiously before you wiped your hands over your face. “I was supposed to work with Keith today..”
 The two of them looked at each other for a second before letting out amused chuckles. 
 “What’s so funny?” you frowned.
 “Honey, Robin and I closed up the store at seven o’clock last night so we could all go find Eddie.” Steve cleared up.
 “Not to mention Steve was gone a whole hour before that to go find you.” she snorted, trudging over with the groceries still in hand as she draped an arm over your shoulder. “We’re totally fired.”
 “Fired?” you gaped, slightly worried by how easily over it they seemed to be. “B-but you guys needed the jobs!”
 “There’s thousands of other part time jobs in Hawkins, kid.” Robin sighed, giving you a tight lipped smile. “We’ll just have to update our resumes..again.”
 She left with that, leaving the two of you behind to join the others down the hill. Glancing at Steve, you opened your mouth, ready to apologize about his likely termination, but he quickly leaned over to press a finger to your lips.
 “Don’t even think about apologizing.” he said sternly. “Because no one in the whole world could have stopped me from leaving. Not when it comes to you.”
 Again, you’re left speechless by the man before you. 
 There couldn’t be any proper explanation as to why Steve continuously gave you more than you deserved. Not one that you would believe in anyway. You’ve hurt him, pushed him, and left him with no reason to do things for you. And off he’d go, ditching his life’s responsibilities just to look out for your well being. 
 It’s all so overwhelming and you find you’re stumped enough that it’s taking a second longer to think of a reply.
 “Trouble..” he said after a second of your silence. 
 You quickly scrambled together a response good enough to divert the seriousness that he seemed to be leading things to lately. Something you know he’ll grow tired of eventually and confront you about. But for now, you’d stick with easing the already harsh day as best as you could.
 “I was just going to say I’m glad we won’t have to wear that vest anymore.”
 “Right.” he said, sucking in a sharp breath. Then suddenly, he leaned over enough that he could look at your face closely. “Are you..okay?” 
Okay seemed to be the last word you’d use to describe yourself. Especially after this morning’s nightmare. But considering the man lost his job to help you out the last time, you figure you should cut this worrisome question short. 
“I have a lot on my mind.” You shrugged. “Just..girl problems.”
His brows were knitted tightly together, skeptical of your response. But before he could throw in a follow up question, the sound of Robin calling out to you guys put a stop to that.  
“We should go..” he said eventually.
 Not wanting to lag behind any longer, you dashed down the hill to the others, catching a glance back to see Steve rub at his face until he remembered to follow after you. The two of you joined just in time to open the door into the boat house. 
 There’s a slightly yelp sound and the five of you watched as a frightened Eddie looked over at the doorway with wide eyes. Apparently he didn’t notice or hear any of you approaching at all. 
 “Delivery service!” Dustin exclaimed, a wide grin on his face as he lifted up the grocery bags. 
 Apparently, you weren’t the only one whose morning was off to a rough start.
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  The five of you gathered around Eddie, giving him a few minutes to calm down. But that calmness quickly left the moment Dustin gave him the box of Honeycomb. All there was after that was the crazy amount of crunching as Eddie stuffed as many as he could into his mouth. 
 “So we got, uh, some good news and some bad news.” Dustin started hesitantly. “How do you prefer it?”
 “Bad news first, always.” Eddie said as if there’d be any other way.
 “All right, bad news. We tapped into the Hawkins PD dispatch with our Cerebro, and they’re definitely looking for you.” he said before blinking hard, forgetting the last important fact. “Also, they’re, uh, pretty convinced you killed Chrissy.”
 “Like, one hundred percent kind of convinced.” Max said next, looking at him solemnly.
 “And the good news?” Eddie asked, perplexed. 
 Robin looked down at him with a familiar gaze to Max’s as she spoke up next. “Your name hasn’t gone public yet. But if we found out about you, it’s a matter of time before others do too. And once that gets out, everyone and their shallow-minded mother is gonna be gunning out for you.”
 You can’t help but feel worse hearing everyone lay out the information than from the dispatch. From where you stood behind Dustin, you could see as Eddie’s face paled at the truth. 
 “Hunt the freak, right?”
 “Exactly.” Robin confirmed.
 The memory of the crash came to mind from his words. Freak of the town. Now it was going to be a man hunt with him as the prey. Dustin before you held a hand out, piping in with what he figured would be words of encouragement. 
 “So, before that happens, we need to find Vecna, kill him, and prove your innocence.”
 “That’s all, Dustin? That’s all?” 
 “Yeah, no, that’s pretty much it.”
 You can’t help but snort at Dustin’s reply. Feeling the pessimism seeping into your mood. There were too many variables to this idea that made it almost impossible to complete. And while you didn’t want to join in on adding salt to Eddie’s wounds, you couldn’t help but shake your head.
 “And after all this we’ll have you back home in time for dinner.” you said offhandedly, keeping your eyes down at your nails. Steve and Dustin turned their gazes over their shoulders to look over at you questionably, making you sheepishly wave them off as you stepped closer towards the group. 
 “Listen, Eddie,” piped Robin as she attempted to lift up his spirits. “I know everything Dustin is saying sounds totally delusional, but we’ve actually been through this before. I mean, they have a..a few times,” she said gesturing to the three of you. Steve confirmed her words with a reassuring nod as she went on. “And..and I have once. Mine was more human-flesh-based, and theirs was more smoke-related, but bottom line is, collectively, I really feel we got this.” 
 “Yeah, see, we usually rely on this girl who has super powers. But, uh, those went bye-bye, so uh..” Steve said quickly, adding a true fact that you felt didn’t really help much considering El wasn’t even in town in the first place. 
 “So, we’re technically in more of the–” Robin volleyed in.
 “Kinda..”
 “Brainstorming phase.” Max finished, seeming to conclude where Robin and Steve were going with their words.
 “There..There’s nothing to worry about.” Dustin spluttered, attempting to bring the group in together. 
 Eddie was rightfully stunned at everyone, tilting his head in shock as he stared at his friend in disbelief. But he’s soon after glancing over to you finally. Looking for what you had to say. In fact, everyone glanced over at you, almost waiting for you to say otherwise.
 And while you parents always said they admired your candor, not everyone around you reacted the best to it. 
 So, you shot him a small tight lipped smile, nodding your head to everyone. “We’re gonna help you, Ed.” you said honestly. “Just..hopefully without any more..complications.” 
 As if the universe was waiting for their cue, the sounds of sirens cut through the silence of the group. Grabbing all the attention off of you as everyone quickly reacted to the new possible threat. 
 “Tarp.” Robin pointed out. “Tarp!” 
 Eddie quickly concealed himself underneath the fabric while the rest of you dashed over to the windows. Peering out through the dirty glass in time to watch as police cars and ambulances zipped past the front of the house. 
 “Where the hell are they going?” you heard Dustin mutter under his breath. His gaze shifted up to you curiously. 
 “I don’t know, but we need to go find out.”
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As the group dispersed from the boat house, you felt a hand gently grab at your arm, halting your exit. Turning around, you found Eddie out from the safety of his tarp. Looking at you with remorse in his eyes. You could practically feel how nervous he was. 
 "Hey," he began softly, "I need to talk to you for a sec."
 Sensing where this conversation was going to go, you almost wanted to reject him. You weren’t sure how many tense conversations you could handle for the day. But seeing as you weren’t certain of when you’d actually see Eddie again, you nodded your head and stayed in place.
 "I wanted to apologize," he continued, his voice tinged with regret. "For that shit back at the van, the woods, all of it. I know it was messed up,..I never meant for any of that to happen."
 His words stirred conflicting emotions within you. Anger, frustration, but also a bit of understanding. 
 At this point, you knew Eddie. He was the same guy who’d get annoyed with your lectures about his fashion taste, or who’d try and kiss you whenever you had a bad day at work, and who would bring out that ridiculous Mick Jagger impression that made you laugh before the first bell rang. He was impulsive, but never malicious. 
 Still, the wounds still lingered inside of you. 
 "I was terrified, Eddie," you admitted, voice barely rising above a whisper despite the anger behind it. "Being lost in those woods...I had no idea where I was going or what was around me. I just saw Chrissy die and woke up to a world of mess."
 His expression softened, and you could see the heavy remorse returned back to his features. "I'm so sorry, Princess.” he croaked, hands reached out to grip onto your arms. “I promise I'll make it up to you, however I can. I won't let you down again."
 You pushed away remaining doubt that wanted to linger behind. Wanting to believe that there were still ways to turn things around. At least in terms of your friendship with Eddie. He was there for you through your shitty moments, it was time you took your turn in being there for him. 
 In this case, his moment being a murder case. 
 “Well, let’s make a habit out of not ditching each other in the woods then.” you said finally. 
 He snorted excitedly, chuckling a bit at your reaction before he pulled you in a tight hug that had you patting his back just to calm him down. “Sounds reasonable to me.” 
 “Good.” you laughed, giving him a final pat to release you out of his tight hold. “Uhh, Eddie? Kinda need to go work on saving your ass now.” 
 “Sorry,” he muttered, loosening up his grip. “I was just kinda worried we’d stop being friends..”
 You pulled back to look up at him, searching his eyes for a moment before you nodded your head. “We’re still friends..”
 “Good, because now that we’re square again, I really gotta say, you look like shit.” 
 “What is it with you guys today? I mean, I am tired, but seriously what the fu–” your words are cut off when Eddie leaned in to press his lips against yours. It wasn’t the most unusual reaction from him. There had been many times he’d say something to annoy you and cut off your anger with a sloppy kiss. But at the current time you couldn’t help but think about the last kiss you had from a freakout. And many other things you did with the man who gave it to you.
 "Eddie, I..." you trailed off, unable to find the right words to explain the complexity of problems you had going on. Especially the ones in your love life.
 He quickly retreated, a sheepish smile playing on his lips. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have—"
 Suddenly, a throat cleared from behind, cutting into the moment. Instantly your heart plummeted as you turned to see Steve standing under the threshold of the door. Expression unreadable. How much did he see? How much did he hear?
 "We’re ready to go," he stated curtly, avoiding your gaze. “If you two are done.”
 Without waiting for you to reply, he quickly turned and left the doorway to join the others back up where the car was. You let out a tired sigh, unsure how you were going to even explain anything of what he just witnessed. All you knew was this was slowly turning from a bad morning to a crappy day.
 “Did I just make things worse?” you heard Eddie chuckle behind you.
 “No, Ed, I think I did.”
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 Despite the awkwardness of your late entrance to the car, the group made it just in time to catch the location of where the cops were heading to. It was towards the main road that led over to Forest Hills.
 Everyone slowly began to murmur out curious questions as to what it could be. Chrissy’s body had already been covered, what could have happened in just a day?
 The car came to a slow stop and the group slowly made an exit out of the car. Looking around what looked like a scene of a crime. Amongst the cars surrounding the area was one that caught your attention quickly. Coroner. But before you could mention that, the sight of a brightly colored skirt caught your attention.
 Talking close to the newly appointed Sheriff Powell stood Nancy. 
 You stepped out on the road, ready to make your way over to join her when a hand tugged on your elbow. Steve, who despite still held some difference towards you since the boathouse, did not want you going forward. Only cocking his chin in the direction of the girl.
 She looked relieved to see you guys but you could tell from the furrow in her brow that she was more than upset. Looking close to crying. Still, she held up a weak hand, waving over at the group with a pained expression. 
 “Shit.” you heard Max whisper. She pointed over towards the side of the road. On the floor, just past your friend, was another body, covered up in a white sheet.
 Vecna’s second victim.
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 Picking at your nails had seemed to be a new habit of yours now. Previously used to keep you busy from conversations slowly turned into you using it to distract yourself from the reality of things. Like right now, as the group gathered around one of the lunch tables just outside of Eddie’s trailer, listening to Nancy explain what the police had found, you were currently tearing at the side of your hangnail.
 Fred was gone. Just the same as Chrissy. Meaning that Dustin was right about this not being the last of Vecna’s attacks. But the idea of it being people you all knew seemed to make this whole thing more sickening.
It was eerie to be back in the trailer park. You made it a point to sit at the side of the table facing the Munson home. Needing to keep your eyes locked on the place again in case of anything odd happening. At one point you felt a hand slowly pat over at your leg, making you jump a bit before glancing to your left.
 Steve stared at you expectantly before he shook his head in confusion. “You with us?” he asked softly, voice with the familiar tinge of worry. 
 Nodding your head, you tucked your hands down into your lap, looking at the three girls across from you. 
 “So, you’re saying that this thing that killed Fred and Chrissy, it’s from the Upside Down?”
 “If the shoe fits,” Steve said simply before he looked at you again. “Right?”
 “Well, considering the lights blinked like usual before the attack happened. I’d say yes.”
 “Our working theory is that he attacks with a spell or a curse.” Dustin added. “Now, whether or not he’s doing the bidding of the Mind Flayer or just loves killing teens, we don’t know.”
 “All we know is that this is something different.” Max joined in, a frown etched on her face as she glanced amongst everyone. “Something new.”
 “Doesn’t make sense.” Nancy muttered, shaking her head. 
 You reached over to place a hand towards her, gaining her attention to you. “Has anything about the Upside Down ever made sense?” you asked honestly, “Besides, this is still a work in progress.”
 “She’s right, it’s only a theory.” Dustin said after you. 
 “No, Fred and Chrissy don’t make sense.” Nancy explained, putting together something in her head. “I mean, why them?”
 “Maybe they were just in the wrong place. “ Dustin tried. “They were both at the game.”
 Max nodded her head, following the pieces coming together. “And near the trailer park.”
 “We’re at the trailer park.” Steve pointed out slowly. “Uhh, should we maybe not be here?”
 You sucked in a slow breath before leaning back to look around the area. It looked the same as when you’d come to visit Eddie. Max’s trailer was still just across the way, and the sound of wind chimes still echoed in the distance. But one glance back to the Munson trailer and you felt your stomach dip. 
“There is something about this place.” Nancy said after a second. “Fred started acting weird the second we got here.”
 Robin looked over at Nancy curiously.  “Acting weird as in..?”
 “Scared, on edge, upset.”
 It completely bothered you how similar you felt to that right now. But you could practically feel worried glances from some of the people at the table, so you bottled down speaking up on that in favor of hearing what Dustin had to say next.
 “Max said Chrissy was upset too.” 
 “Yeah, but not here.” she shook her head. “She was crying in the bathroom at school.”
 For a second you couldn’t help but feel a twist in your stomach at the idea of Chrissy. She was so nice in the van that night. Wanting to take the special K just to get through the night without feeling overwhelmed. But her troubles were vastly bigger than she laid out for you and you couldn’t help but feel bad for not reaching out more when you had the chance. 
 “Serial killers stalk their prey before they strike, right?” Robin asked, cutting into silence. “So, maybe Fred and Chrissy saw this Vecman–”
 “Vecna.” Dustin quickly corrected.
 “I don’t know about you guys but if I saw some freaky wizard monster, I would mention it to someone.” Steve said. His eyes looked to you, almost like he was expecting you to agree with him. And while the logical side of you did, something deep inside was stopping you entirely from speaking out. 
 “Maybe they did.” Max considered slowly. “I saw Chrissy leaving Ms. Kelley’s office. If you saw a monster, you..you wouldn’t go to the police. They’d never believe you. But you might go to your–”
 “Your shrink.” Robin concluded. 
 The idea of Fred and Chrissy having a connection through Ms. Kelley did little to ease your growing anxiety. Especially when you remembered that amongst the few students that happened to be stuck in her counseling sessions, was you.
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  Not wanting to waste the day, the group quickly left the bench to head over to the next destination. Hopefully Max could find her way into getting out some information about the others from Ms. Kelley. 
 You’re walking close beside Nancy when she elbowed your side, raising a brow to you before nodding towards the direction of her car. You almost wanted to ask her what she had meant when she gave you a familiar look. Quickly getting the hint that she had something else in mind, you casually turned towards the car. That is until the group’s den mother seemed to take notice.
 “Whoa, whoa, HEY! HEY!” Steve said, jogging after the two of you. “Where are you guys going?”
 “Oh, there’s just something I wanna check on first.” she explained simply, nudging at your side quickly. 
 “I’m gonna go with her, you know Nancy Drew needs Bess Marvin and all that.” you waved, trying to make a turn for the car again.
 “Something you guys wanna share with the rest of us?” Dustin asked, slightly offended.
 “I don’t wanna waste your time. It’s a real shot in the dark.” she said shyly, kicking at the dirt for a second. You nodded your head, looking over at the rest of the group with a small smile.
 “If she’s got a hunch, it might be worth checking out guys. We’ll be back soon.” you reassured them.
 “Hey, you can’t just ditch us.” Dustin scoffed. “Besides, it’s better to keep an eye on you if you’re suddenly turned into a suspect and we need to hide you up with Eddie.”
 Max looked over at Dustin before she nodded her head, agreeing. “There’s still a chance your name could come up. If we can’t reach you then we wouldn’t be able to help you on time.”
 Something told you that there might be another reason Dustin and Max wanted you to stay and while you were sure nothing would happen while going with Nancy, you also didn’t want to make things harder on anyone. Especially with these two out of all them showing concern openly.
 “Looks like I’m with the kids.” you sighed, turning defeatedly to Nancy. “Think you’ll be okay?”
 “I’ll be an hour or two tops.” she nodded. “We’ll regroup after that.”
 “Yeah okay. Are you guys out of your mind?” Steve asked, looking at you two a little perplexed. “Flying solo with this Vecna creep on the loose? No, it’s too dangerous. You need..you need someone to..” His face turned hard with a sudden frustration as he looked at Nancy worriedly. Your stomach caught onto that tension quicker than your brain and twisted slightly at a growing feeling you haven’t felt in a while. Steve didn’t seem to notice as he turned to toss his keys over to Robin.
 “Here you go. I’ll stick with Nance.” he said quickly. “You guys take the car, check out the shrink.”
 The girl caught the keys awkwardly, giving Steve a confused look as she pointed over to the car. “Don’t think you want me driving your car.” she said wearily. 
 “Didn’t think he let anyone drive the car.” you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “Last time he nearly had a heart attack and that was just driving in the streets.”
 Steve blinked over at you confused before he turned back to Robin. “Why?” he asked, ignoring your jab. 
 “I don’t have a license.”
 “Why don’t you have a license?” he asked frustratedly. 
 “I’m poor.” she reasoned with a shrug. 
 “I can drive.” Max offered, only adding fuel to Steve’s emotions. 
 “No, No! Never again. Please. Anybody but you. NO.” he argued.
 Dustin, ever with his perfect timing, looked at Steve with his arms out. As if he were ready to take on the responsibility that no one on the team could take. From behind Steve you could see as his body deflated at his choices. 
 “No chance.”
 “Come on!”
 Nancy looked a little uncomfortable at Steve’s persistence, only casting you an apologetic look. You on the other hand could not stop the familiar green monster from trying to crawl its way up from the depths of your soul. Unsure where Steve’s need to be around Nancy came from just yet. But you knew by now that it wasn’t the best idea to act on those feelings just yet.
 Finally Steve glanced back to you, raising a brow questionably. 
 Bastard.
 “Fine,” you said calmly, earning a small shock from the group. As if they expected some other reaction from you. Taking a step towards him, you held out your hand, giving Steve a sweet smile. “I’ll take your car.” 
 Steve nervously licked over his lips. Eyes shifting from your hand, then to Nancy, and then back at you. “No,” he gulped, shaking his head lightly. “I sense I made a mistake of some kind.”
 Fed up with everything, Robin reached for the walkie in Dustin’s bag and stepped in. “All right, okay. This is stupid. Us ladies will stick together.” she confirmed, putting the keys back into Steve’s hands. Her eyes gave him a warning look before she marched over to join Nancy’s side. “Unless you think we need you to protect us?” she said with a humorous chuckle.
 The two of you didn’t move from your spot. Only watching as Robin made her way towards Nancy’s car. Taking the lead for their exit. Nancy gave you both a sympathetic shrug before she mouthed an apology to you before turning on her heels to catch up with the other girl.
 “Be careful!” he called out, Robin turned around, shooting out a peace sign before she glanced at you. 
 “Should be saying that to yourself!” she laughed, giving you a wink.
 From the corner of your eye you can feel as Steve nervously looked over at you. His previous annoyance went away when he noticed your change in demeanor. Without another thought you walked towards his car, avoiding his gaze as you made your way towards the car doors. He quickly rushed over, moving to open up the passenger door for you, a small tight lip smile on his face.
 Ignoring that offer, you carefully opened up the backseat and slipped in beside Max. Avoiding his gaze as you slammed the door shut. From the outside you could hear Dustin chortle at his friend as he moved to take the free spot. “Nice one,” he said to Steve. “You just gonna stand there and gawk?”
 “Dude, shut up.”
 “Why don’t we go? Okay?” he said teasingly.
 “Shut up and get in the car.” he ordered. “Wipe your feet.”
 You watched as Dustin carelessly began to wipe his feet inside the car. Almost comically as he patted the shoe against the clean interior floor, earning another explosive reaction from Steve. 
 “On the outside, not the inside!”
 There was a bit more huffing between the two as they finally got into their seats. Leaving the car in a second of silence. Steve glanced back at you, opening his mouth to say something. But instead of giving him the chance to say anything, you turned in your seat, facing your direction to look out the window. Giving you the chance to give him a bit of the silent treatment. 
 “Always the babysitter.” Steve muttered angrily, turning on the engine of the car. “Always the GODDAMN babysitter!”
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 You watched carefully from your side of the car as Max entered inside Ms. Kelley’s home. Only looking back at you guys once before the door closed up behind her. Hopefully the whole thing wouldn’t take as long and the four of you could make your way back to others and give you space away from Steve. 
 “So..we gonna talk about..it?”
 Glancing to your right, you looked into the passenger mirror to find Dustin looking at Steve. He seemed to have purposely left his window open enough that you were able to eavesdrop into their conversation. 
 “Huh? Sorry, talk about what?” Steve asked, barely paying attention.
 “Your temporary insanity earlier today when you basically threw yourself at Nance? And in front of my cousin of all people.”
 It took everything in you not to react to what you just heard. Your cousin’s words basically confirm the worries that hit you in the trailer park. The little green monster inside was practically dancing as it festered on the negative energy building up inside of you. 
 “Okay, first of all, that’s not what happened.” Steve said defensively. 
 “Pretty sure that’s what happened.” he countered. “It was public, there were like, a lot of witnesses. The prime one being at the back of your car right now.”
 He made it a point to glance at you through the mirror, catching your glaring gaze. He looked like he was about to change things up from his expression but you quickly shook your head, nodding in the direction of Steve’s side of the car for him to continue. 
 “Uh-Are you implying I still have a thing for Nance? Really? Me?”
 “No, I’m not implying.” he said, shaking his head. “I’m stating. And, as it relates to your current break up leaving you to go on various dates, it’s pretty much the only logical explanation.”
“That’s not the only one.” Steve denied quickly. “You know what I’ve been going through. What I’ve been thinking. And as for Nance, I was just trying to protect a friend.”
 From the mirror you could see Dustin’s face turned amused, like he was beyond believing that statement in the slightest way. You let out a small sigh, glancing down at the ground almost..defeatedly.
 This wasn’t even something you had the right to be angry about. If anything, the only reason you had room to speak on the situation was the fact that Nancy was currently dating your best friend and you couldn’t just let Steve of all people step in on that.
 God, that thought alone made you feel sick.
 “A friend, Henderson. Okay?” Steve said after noticing Dustin’s silence. 
 “Okay.”
 “I don’t wanna find her in the morning with her eyes sucked out of the front of her skull by this Vecna creep.”
 Dustin let out an amused giggle. “You’re bright red in the face right now!”
 Not having it in your stomach to listen to anything else, you stomped away from the car. Trying not to let the stinging tears in your eyes slip out. Your mind viciously shoots you into a memory from the first fall when Billy arrived. His terrorizing had slowly come to an end that night but not without some parting words to you.
 “He’ll never get over Wheeler. It’s that first love shit that chicks are so keen for. He’ll never get away from that feeling. Trust me, I’d know.”
 Back then you convinced yourself that he wasn’t telling the truth. That he took your weakness that night to try and get under your skin. But now? Now your mind is so frazzled and so broken lately that everything is turning into doubt. 
 “Get in the car.”
 You turned around to find Max rushing over to the car door, giving you a wide look before she entered inside. Quickly, you joined in after her, closing up the door in time to catch her giving Steve an order to drive. He’s quick to start up the car, setting all of you to hit against the seats as he sped away from the house.
 Eventually Max briefly explained what happened inside and stated that the best way to get more information would be in Ms. Kelley’s office at the school. You tried to explain it’d be a lot harder to break in due to the break but she simply held up a pair of office keys. 
 Suddenly the walkie in Dustin’s lap let out a loud squawk before a voice suddenly spoke through.
 “Dustin. It’s Lucas. Do you copy? Dustin.”
 The sudden sound of your friend’s voice had you and Max quickly leaning over your seats, trying to listen in on the incoming message. 
 “Lucas? Where the hell have you been?” Dustin asked into the walkie. 
 “Just listen.” Lucas pleaded. “Are you guys looking for Eddie?”
 “Yeah and we found him, no thanks to you.” he chided back. 
 “You found him?”
 “He’s at a boathouse on Coal Mill Road. Don’t worry, he’s safe.”
 “You guys know he killed Chrissy, right?” Lucas asked worriedly. The car seemed to grow tense at that. Now the teens at the school surely knew he was the main suspect. Time was beginning to run out. 
 “That’s bullshit. Eddie tried to save Chrissy. My cousin was there!”
 “She was there too?! Wait, then why do all the cops say he did it?”
 Max, having had enough, reached over for the walkie. “Lucas, you’re so behind it’s ridiculous, okay? Just meet us at the school. We’ll explain later.”
 “I..I can’t. I think some real bad shit’s about to go down.”
 “What are you talking about? What bad shit?” she asked, but there was no response back. Almost as if the connection was lost. “Lucas? Lucas?” 
 “Line got cut off.” Dustin said, reaching back for the walkie. “What do you think he meant?”
 “I’m not sure.” Steve said, gripping the wheel tightly. “Let’s just get to the school.”
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  It was dark by the time the four of you arrived at Hawkins. The air held an eerie atmosphere as you guys parked discreetly in the back of the school. Couldn’t exactly have anyone checking by to see there was someone at the school this time of night.
Your cousin was thankfully prepared for the night again and quickly passed around a couple of flashlights, giving you guys some light to venture through the creepy halls with. 
 “I gotta say, didn’t think I’d be coming back here anytime soon.” Steve muttered to you, smacking at the side of his flashlight before it fully turned on. 
 “It’s definitely not the way I wanted to spend my Spring Break.” you nodded, flashing towards one of the classrooms. 
 There’s an awkward building tension between the two of you. A part of you wanted to squash down that anger from before, use it to keep focus on the problems at hand. But there was a bigger part inside that was gleefully ready to make a mess out of things. 
Per usual.
 “Didn’t think I’d spend the day like this.” he chuckled lightly, looking over at you. “Kind of a bad way to end the weekend don’t you think?”
 Something in his words, while innocent, just irked you. Making your whole body shift as you finally let free some of the venom that had been building up since the trailer park. 
 “Yeah, you must be having a pretty bad day considering you’re stuck babysitting with me instead of chumming it up with Robin or looking out for Nancy.”
 Steve looked almost as if your words were a slap to the face, staggering back a second before his expression quickly changed to annoyance. He reached a hand out to stop you from walking. 
 “Where’s that coming from?” he asked slowly.
 “Seriously?” you laughed, raising a brow at him. “Did you suddenly forget that little show you gave back in Forest Hills?” You made an effort to dramatically reenact tossing invisible car keys. “Here you go. I’ll stick with Nance.” you said in a dramatically deep voice. 
 He was unamused by that, pressing his lips together before he scratched at his hair. A nervous tick he got whenever something got under his skin. “I’m sorry I’m a little particular with who I hang out with at the moment. I figured you’d feel the same way considering you probably wanted to stick around with Eddie so you guys could make out and weirdly flirt again.” 
 Sometimes you forget that Steve’s as much of a former bitch as you were. Making his bite hurt particularly bad right now. Still, you weren’t one to back down from a verbal fight. 
 “Wow, I’m not really surprised you noticed everything I’m doing considering how you’ve been trying to figure out ways to keep me at home.” Tilting your head you step closer to look up at Steve. “Was worrying about me too much for you now that you want to display your macho-man persona to Nancy again?” 
 “You’re pulling that out of nowhere.” he scoffed, shaking his head at you. “I mean, really, how is me wanting you to stay home because I’m worried about how tired you look, suddenly turn into me trying to get back with Nancy?”
 “Oh, so now it’s suddenly trying get back with Nancy?”
 “No, you just said–”
 “I said you were showing off!” 
 He let out a long sigh, rubbing a hand over his face before he turned to look at you seriously. “All I offered was to go with Nancy so that she wasn’t alone. Her friend just died the same way Chrissy did and I didn’t want her to end up the same way. I was just trying to be a comforting friend.”
 “So you wanted to comfort her? Well, that’s great to hear considering we both know how you like to comfort people through their crisis, don’t we?”
 “I-It was different with you, okay?” He stuttered a bit, before he held his hands up, looking annoyed again. “You’re the one who is kissing some other guy and it’s me that’s trying to get with someone?”
 “As always, you always take one part of the picture to paint the story, your highness.” you sighed, pushing a hair out of your face. “But don’t worry, I’m sure Robin will put in a good word for you with Nancy since you’re so keen on chivalry.”
 “That’s not fair. That is not what I want.” he spat. “Look, I know that you two have a thing okay? I’m not going to step in on it but that doesn’t mean I have to be nice about it either. So, quit using the friendly friendship I have with Nance to compare your beneficial one with Eddie.”
 “There isn't a thing. God, Steve.” you frowned. “In case you haven’t figured it out yet, Eddie kissed me. I didn’t ask him to, nor to hold me, or anything. He’s just a friend..and I pulled back.”
 “That’s not the only thing you two have done, quit acting like it’s just some innocent friendship.”
 “If you can’t seem to remember, the only person around here that I’ve willingly done anything with in the past twenty-four hours, is you, so..” you said as a matter of fact. “Also I think it’s unfair that you get mad at Eddie for kissing me but quickly go around to play the brave knight in shining white Adidas to Nance.”
 “They’re Nikes!” he countered weakly. 
 You could only scoff at him in disbelief. “This conversation isn’t going anywhere. I’m sorry I’m not the one you want to be around right now, let’s just leave things at that.” 
 Taking a step to leave him you made an effort to follow after the two kids when Steve reached forward to grip at your arm. “I don’t want you to think that I don’t want you around. But I know you’re not okay right now. And the more you try and push yourself in this, the more I can tell that something else is bothering you.”
 He’s staring down at you with the familiar look of worry he’s been doing these past few days. Something that would have comforted you the other day, but not with how you were feeling right now.
 “You’re right.” you said softly, reaching up to gently pat at his hand. “There is something bothering me.”
 From the tone of your voice, Steve could easily tell where this was going to go, only giving you a pleading look as he tried to diffuse the comeback you were about to give him.
 “Don’t say it’s me-
 “It’s you.”
 Without a sparing glance, you pushed out of his grip and brushed and brushed past a nosy, lingering, Dustin in order to join Max at the front of the search. Her gaze stayed ahead, looking away from you, but from the corner of your eye you could see as she shook her head. A small smirk on her lips.
 “Well that was really nice.”
 “Oh, shut up.” You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “Like you have any room to talk about niceties.”
 “I don’t?” She asked amusedly. 
 “Well considering your on and off history with Lucas, I’d think it’s fair to say you’re just as good with dealing with exes as I am.” 
 She frowned for a moment, seeming to think it over before she shrugged. “Guess we’re both kinda messed up.” 
 A part of you wanted to argue. Say how she’s wrong and that aside from what was currently going on, you were fine. But considering the dramatic fight you just shared for the two kids, you figured she wasn’t entirely wrong. “It’s kinda nice.” you said eventually, nudging her side playfully.
 “It’s nice that we’re messed up?” She chuckled, looking a little taken back. 
 “No,” you hummed lightly, “it’s nice we’re messed up together.” 
 She finally glanced over at you, giving you a weird look before laughing. “You’re so weird.” she said, nudging you back. 
 With that small bit of comfort, the two of you silently led the other boys the rest of the way to Ms. Kelley’s office. 
 The familiar lingering scent of her relaxing lavender candle hit your senses quickly once you entered inside. Which you were thankful for considering the small stress you seemed to be adding onto yourself. You were happy to finally have a moment where all you guys had to do was focus on the clues needed to progress your theories and not your current problems.
 “It’s like a mini-Watergate or something.” Dustin said behind you. “Hawkinsgate.”
 “Wait a second, didn’t those guys get caught?” asked Steve.
 You made your way over towards the desk, looking over the papers laid out neatly at the center of the table while Max peeked through the cabinet for the files. 
 “Holy shit.” she said suddenly.
 “You found it?” Steve asked, as the rest of you gathered around her.
 “Yeah, and not just Chrissy’s file. Fred was seeing Ms. Kelley too.” Her hand reached back into the cabinet, pulling out one more manila envelope before she turned over to face you. Her eyes focused on you intently as she held the file up in the air. “And so were you.”
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 Even with your eyes looking down at your file, you could feel the intense stare from Steve’s eyes. He hasn’t stopped looking at you ever since Max revealed your file to everyone. You couldn’t help but find it all worthless to bring up. To you, it was just your regular file. There was the first meeting recorded, the goals she wanted you to have for the next couple of years. Nothing out of the ordinary until this year. When she began to take notice of your reaction towards Billy’s death.
 “God,” you scoffed, looking down at her words. “Behavioral avoidance? What a load of crap.” 
 You carefully threw the file onto the desk, plopping down in her chair to look over at what Max had been reading across from you. 
 The folder containing Chrissy’s sessions quickly caught your eye. Making you curious to know what the girl truly had been going through before her untimely death. 
 “Can I see Fred’s file?” she asked suddenly. 
 “Yeah,” Steve said, passing the folder over to her. She quickly laid it out before her, flipping through the papers to collect whatever information caught her attention. From the side you could see as Steve carefully tried to reach out for your file. You made it a point to move away from him on the other side of the desk.
 Leaning over, you reached over for Chrissy’s file, looking over the small details listed on her last session. Headaches, nosebleeds, nightmares, anxiety, insomnia, trauma.. All things that made sense but..oddly familiar. Moving closer, you peered over to look down at Fred’s notes that Max had stopped at. 
 ..They were almost similar to Chrissy’s.
 But that didn’t make sense. It couldn’t. Because if that were the few connecting signs to what made Vecna attack Chrissy and Fred then what did that mean about you? Glancing back at your folder, you pushed through the notes again, trying to figure out if there was anything similar to what was on the other two folders. But there was nothing.
 Only the small note written at the corner of your last session.
 Might benefit if suggested with a group therapy. Perhaps with Max M.  Both suffer from related trauma.
 Related trauma? You thought.
 Glancing up from the papers, you peered over at Max worriedly. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think she looked a lot like how you felt at the moment. But this couldn’t be right. You never voiced to Ms. Kelley any of these things. You weren’t seeing any weird Vecna monster or dealing with trauma. You were-
 “Perfectly fine?” (tick)
 You felt a cold shiver run down your back and glanced up in the room. Almost expecting to see if anyone else had heard that. There’s a heavy weight suddenly over you and you feel as if the air in the room was slowly being sucked out. This couldn’t be happening. You weren’t like the others. You weren’t going through these struggles you weren’t–
 “Going crazy? (tock)
“Max! MAX!” 
 The sounds of Dustin and Steve calling out to Max instantly pulled you out from you haunting thoughts. Before you was a frozen Max, still frozen in place. “Max?” you called out, getting out from your seat to kneel beside her. 
 Steve’s hand rested on your shoulders, concern on his face as he began to breathe heavily. “What’s going on?” he asked, voice uneasy. “What do we do?”
 “She’s just..I don’t know!” you panicked, shaking at her shoulders. “Max, c’mon. Talk to me!” But as you gazed into her vacant eyes, a chilling thought swept right through you. 
 Did you guys just run out of time?
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A/N: okay so this chapter is kinda messy. Reader is seriously losing her mind but I promise that trouble is gonna get her head on screwed right soon enough. Maybe after she remembers that Nancy is in love with Jonathan and Steve practically dropped everything to go to her. I blame Vecna tbh. And Billy from the afterlife. 
TAGGING LIST:  @cluz1babe​ , @starofavolonea​ , @darlingimafangirl (won’t let me tag), @primroseluna​,  & @siriuslysmoking​
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Steve rarely opens up to people,tells them how he feels blaming it on the fact that he grew up with parents who were divided, he didn’t want to end up like that , like his dad he would rather die than to end up like him.
Steve royally regrets that , the sharp scent of alcohol is burning his nose, the beeping machinery around him refusing to soothe his anxiety, his palms sweaty against his thighs , steve's breathing is getting heavier and heavier each second, he assumes its cause he’s tired cause he’s lost a lot of blood but that’s not it.
You’d told him you loved him, opened your walls to him , let him in and told him you really cared for him. You told him that he was your person and he said nothing, nothing to let you know that he loved you more than anything else in the world, more than Dustin's funny jokes and more than Robin's relentless teasing. Steve loves you and he couldn’t say it back.
Now you lay still on a cold hospital bed , dim lighting surrounding you ,your room void of gifts , of flowers , nothing except your sister holding your hand , falling asleep on the seat she moved right next to your bed, blood dripping from both of her nostrils searching for you in the void.
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ptichiypepel · 1 day
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Modern!AU, Medical!AU, Hanahaki!AU in which reader throws up lilies and Steve is blissfully unaware. (12,7k)
Warnings: text may have unpleasant descriptions of diseas, talking about death and dying, angst, open final, unrequited love, ooc Nancy
Soundtrack: Dove Cameron - Bloodshot
Notes: Hanahaki Disease is a fictional disease in which the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. It ends when the beloved returns their feelings (romantic love only; strong friendship is not enough), or when the victim dies. It can be cured through surgical removal, but when the infection is removed, the victim's ability to feel disappear.
Interferons are a group of signaling proteins made and released by host cells in response to the presence of several viruses. In a typical scenario, a virus-infected cell will release interferons causing nearby cells to heighten their anti-viral defenses.
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Robin says that if you hadn’t been studying books like a swot at the age of eighteen, and hadn’t been obsessed with writing articles for scientific journals, then all this crap wouldn’t happend at all.
Well, the logic here is that you would have then done all sorts of wild things, that all teenagers do, and eventually calmed down. And since all of this did not happen, you are doing this now, at twenty-eight.
You may not agree with her about this, but your mouth is filled with flower petals, so you remain silent.
- You, fool, - the current Robin is not distinguished by empathy at all, because all the empathy that she was so proud of completely disappeared by the end of the internship. Healthy medical cynicism was formed by the third course, when future doctors began to drink regularly once a week. - What are you waiting for? You play with fire, I'm not gonna save your ass when it's too late.
You stretch your lips into a smile and put a cookie in your mouth, immediately coughing and covering your mouth with your hand.
You hoped that at least Robin would have some brain cells today and would bring normal food from home to duty.
You? You live alone and simply hate cooking, but Robin has a wife - and a bunch of other things. Brain, for example. Sometimes you envie her, but not very often.
Your night shifts rarely coincide, but if this happens, you certainly spend them together - fortunately, the surgical and microsurgical buildings are very close. One night in one building, the other in another, although personally Robin prefers hanging out in microsurgery with you. There are less problems here, because patients in the eye department need help at night much less often.
And now you both are sitting in your staff room, drinking tea and eating biscuits, and you start to curse, coughing and running out to return about five minutes later, examining some weird wet rag in your fingers.
When Robin realizes what it is, she feels sick to her stomach. They are already so big...
- They’re not daffodils, I’m betting my ass, - you say calmly and shake a wet flower in front of Robin's face. Well at least you washed it before showing. - These are some shitty rare lilies, I read about them. Pankratium or something like that.
- I hope it's not literally shitty? - Robin's still able to jock about it. Because - what else left?
- No. This one's from the mouth.
You put a flower on the table, and it gradually begins to dry out from the water and take on normal shape - sharp, long white petals gathered into a corolla, a thin and green stem, torn at the base.
And if earlier these were just seeds or individual parts of an inflorescence, now they are whole flowers, perhaps smaller than ordinary ones. But this, of course, is a matter of time.
When you first start coughing and notice some white petals in the sink, you want to laugh at the absurdity of the situation, - and you do.
At first you don't even understand where you could have become infected, but then, after analyzing it, you laugh louder, because only to you could happen such thing.
You know for sure that Billy, who has been in love with you for several years, had an operation - Robin told you about this as soon as she saw a quota for him in her colleague’s plans.
You felt immediate relief, even though you understood all the consequences - but it’s still better, than just dying ingloriously.
At least for ambitious Billy who wouldn't want to die from a disease caused by broken heart. Because Billy was too proud to let people know he has one in the first place.
Another thing is that you didn’t even suspect where a bouquet of flowers in a vase - withered hyacinths - appeared in your office one day from - at first you didn’t even pay attention, and when you did, it was too late.
They began to smell disgustingly sweet, and you went up to the table and for some reason touched them with your finger, immediately withdrawing your hand in disgust. Then you asked the nurse to throw them away, and a couple of weeks later you saw the first petal in the palm of your hand.
It was a funny greeting from Billy, with a deep meaning. And you, who had been in love for a long time and unrequitedly, but not with him, also began to vomit this rubbish and at first you didn't even tell anyone anything.
Either you didn’t take it seriously, or you couldn’t believe that fate had played such a cruel joke on you, but it doesn’t matter anymore - Rob found out about everything already when the petals turned into inflorescences, and your cough began to remind her of the need to do fluorography. That's what medical friends are for, to tell jokes about tuberculosis.
That's when you tell her - and even show, opening your hand with a heap of wet petals. For some reason, you never throw them away right away, carefully washing them of blood and examining them with true scientific interest, as if you were going to write a dissertation.
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You all meet in the first year of university, when you enter the same faculty of medicine and end up in the same group. You, Robin, Steve and Eddie for some time become a curse for the entire class and teachers, although you personally are more for the company than for joy - during these times, you really put an effort into your studies, write vigorously in all scientific journals and speak at every conference.
Everyone else of your friends wasn't bothered with studying, especially Steve who wanted to feel a free college life like they show in the movies. There begin parties in the dorm, absenteeism of classes and inevitable learning before the session - because well, you are doctors, you actually have to know how to treat people.
In the third course the teachers danced when Eddie decides to expel, because he understood that college is not for him and he wants to work as a mechanic in his ankle's garage.
Situation somehow immediately becomes calmer.
The rest of you rent an apartment not far from the university, saying goodbye to the dorm forever, and begin to live together: Steve after a big scandal with his parents funally starts to put an effort to his studies, but you, on the contrary, go crazy. You raise your head from your textbooks, look around and begin to realize how much you have missed.
For example, how incredibly smart and interesting it would be, in your fifth year at university, to fall head over heels for your fellow classmate, with whom you share a tiny two-room apartment and a can of cheap beer. 
"That would be fucking cool" you think and immediately begin to work in this direction, and soon enough you actually find yourself in love with Steve Harrington.
That’s why Robin says that if it weren’t for the textbooks, all this shit could have passed painlessly earlier and not destroy your life, but for you everything turns out differently, and you believe that you has the right for your own path. The path of the ninja. The path of the shinobi. The path of the stupid dumb ass idiot.
You are proud of your path and don't regret anything when boys in the university begin to look at you dreamily, and one of them, Billy, even confesses his love to you and gets sick with this viral crap, which was rare then - a couple of cases per hundred people. 
You fall in love with Steve, and you don't care that someone is vomiting flowers because of your disinterest.
You rightly believe that one cannot force a person to reciprocate feeling for someone to whom they cannot and/or does not want to do so. 
You joyfully rush through the soft clouds of inevitable friendzone, but fortunately, at first you have enough brains to do it in silence. Robin, of course, notices something, but Steve remains blissfully unaware that he has become the object of your sudden and growing love. Steve has other things to do - he finally finds a common language with his parents, also doctors in their thirtieth generation, he comes to his senses and dives headlong into science, discovering some - before unexplored - potential for this.
The three of you still lived together, sharing two rooms, and one day you realize that this is not a joke anymore.
You are madly in love with Steve, and now he’s with textbooks and different girls, you know. With one of them even for a very long time: Steve gets together with Nancy in his fifth year (ironically, at about the same time that you decide to fall in love with him) and remains for a long six years.
And at the moment when you and Robin are sitting in the microsurgery resident's office, working night shift, Steve is also with her - apparently on another vacation in Maldives or something like this. 
One can afford this if one's father is the head physician of one of the large hospitals - although it must be admitted, Steve never sought to enjoy such privileges. 
And his parents did not try to help him even while studying at the university. Later, however, his father did hired him to work, but not for his pretty eyes.
When the time comes to choose a specialization, Steve goes to oncology, Robin goes to surgery, and you - after long thinking decide on ophthalmology.
You confess everything to Steve right at the graduation, when it becomes clear that you will most likely either see each other less often or not see each other at all. At that graduation there was a lot of booze, easily accessible weed, a tiny apartment and a tinier balcony where you couldn’t even stand without touching your neighbor.
You are so drunk that you don't give a damn about anything.
You try to kiss him and he pushes you away. That's it.
You got terribly offended, of course, but you never stop loving him. Robs learns about this not even from you, but from Steve himself who, even when drunk, usually remembers everything down to the smallest detail - she finds out and advises you to stop being a fool. 
Laughter is laughter, but a few more years pass, and you begin to vomit daffodils, and it’s no longer funny.
- They’re not daffodils, you blind bitch, - you get angry and take another cookie. - This is a lily.
- Doesn't matter, - Robin rolls her eyes and tries not to show how much the situation worries her more and more. 
If a couple of years ago she considered your love for Steve to be a whim, now that you have inhaled Billy’s flowers and they have sprouted, it becomes clear that this is serious. The seeds simply wouldn't have sprouted out of whim.
– You need to take all the tests, x-rays and fluoroscopy. We need to do something about this. I don’t want to find a flowerbed instead of you one day.
You lean back in your chair and smile strangely. In the dim light of the nightly light of the resident's room the bruises under the eyes seem clearer, the lines of the cheekbones are sharper, - exactly an expressionist painting, especially since just five minutes ago you was fishing a full-fledged large flower out of your throat.
- You, Robs, should think about death easier with your job, - you say calmly. – In my operating room, you know, I have much less chance of encountering it. I can leave you without an eye, but in your room a person can end up being dead.
For some reason Robin shudders at this cynical calm. No, she really has a much simpler attitude towards death, because without this defensive reaction you won’t survive in this business: if you let all the pain and suffering pass through yourself, you can retire with a certificate from a psychiatric hospital. 
But now when she hears something like that from you - a closest friend, almost a sister even - in relation to your own life, it’s at least uncomfortable.
- Why don't you want to have a surgery? – Robin asks quietly once again, even if she knows what she will get in response. 
This is the game already - she asks this question over and over again, and you answers it every time in different ways.
- I’m just wondering how this will all end, - you chuckle, and Robin thinks that fucking daffodils have already sprouted in your brain. Oh sorry, lilies. - But, seriously, Robs. I just don't want it. So that later i will live like a hollow doll? Have you seen Billy? It's not even life. Besides, I always dreamed of dying beautifully, and could there be anything more beautiful than turning into a huge flowerbed?
This is the first time Robin hears this option. Such expression deserves applause. You should have became an actress. And if at the end of the performance no one gives you flowers, you can cough them up for yourself.
- Go through the examination so that you can at least understand the situation, - Robin makes one last attempt, but you are already looking at your phone and scrolling through the Instagram feed, not paying attention to her. - At least an x-ray.
- Did you masturbate recently? - you asks all of a sudden and Robin's confused.
- No?... - the answer sounds like an question.
- Then go fuck yourself, Robin.
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You wake up not from the alarm clock, but from an itch under your ribs that began to torment you in the evening. Having taken a couple of Suprastin pills, you went to bed and had vivid LSD dreams all night, only to collapse at five in the morning from painful scabies.
Lifting your T-shirt in front of the mirror, your discover a bright scarlet pulsating lump on the side of your stomach, just below your ribs, as if you had been stung by a Chernobyl hornet - it hurts and itches, and you simply hate this feeling.
And here you are thinking you just ate too much sweets the night before. You touch the abscess with the tip of your finger, and it itches even more - and as soon as you decides to scratch the skin with nails, the abscess bursts, flaring up with sharp pain, and pours blood onto your stomach along with disheveled white petals protruding from the wound.
- Fuck! - you yell, barely managing to pull off your white T-shirt and cover the wound with your palm. Blood still flows through your fingers, drops fall on the light carpet and laminate, you, groaning, go into the bathroom. - Fucking shit...
You carefully pull out the flower and throw it into the sink, deciding to deal with it later - right now you want to grab the phone and do something nasty. It’s simply impossible to deny yourself this, so you go to Steve’s Instagram and without greetings, in a very adult way, write to him in direct message a short “fucking son of a bitch.”
Of course, you don't receive an answer right away, but the main thing was to express the emotion: if it weren’t for Steve, you wouldn't be standing now in front of the mirror and wondering whether it was possible to cover the hole in your stomach with a band-aid or something else would come out of it again.
Lily, by the way, is gorgeous and neat - and much more larger than those that usually crawl out of the throat. You look at the bloody flower with morbid interest, wash it under the water and places it in a small vase next to the mirror in the bathroom. You still don't know why you do this, but sometimes you directly fight the desire to collect a bouquet for Steve and send it by mail. For this fucker to inhale and get sick. Although it’s unlikely that Steve is unrequitedly in love with someone.
- Listen, maybe I should write an article on this topic, - you say inspiredly, while Robin sits and fills some documents in her office. Your operating day ended, and you apparently came to eat Robin's lunch. - Everyone is romanticizing this shit. It’s like you’re coughing up petals, flowers appear in your ribs, in your lungs, on your wrists. So pretty and mysterious. But you, as a doctor, understand that seeds are distributed throughout the body, and in the intestines, for example, there is a very favorable environment for their germination.
- Babe, I’m not sure I want to know about this at all.
- But Robin! – you are indignant, rolling around the office on a chair and crossing your arms over your chest. – Little snotty girls dream of such beauty in their wet dreams, but no one tells them they will even shit flowers!
Robin puts down her pen and looks at you - and fights the urge to grab you by the scruff of the neck and drag you to the radiologist, then to the ENT specialist, and then to the psychotherapist. No, most likely, first of all, to the psychotherapist. You smile at all thirty-two, and only Robin could see the yearning frozen in your eyes.
- So you’re shitting daffodils, - she clarifies, just in case, - Like a princess.
- Lilies, - you nod. - Like a princess.
You refuse to take tests, because, according to you, you know perfectly well what is happening and at what stage you are.
For such a long period of time you are holding up amazingly well - at work, despite the fact that there are a lot of doctors around (even if they are all only ophthalmologists), no one suspects you are sick.
No one knows about this except Robin, who swears to be silent, and Eddie, and you threatened to squeeze out his eyes if he says a word. You are happy this way - you don't want an audience and a fuss around your condition.
And everything's fine, really. Sometimes thou the ribs hurt, as with neuralgia, and the eyeballs burst from pressure. Then you simply buy more painkillers, Baralgin in ampoules and vasodilating drops. Nothing to worry about... The end is perfectly clear.
A couple of weeks after that conversation, when Robin once again tries to convince you to take care of yourself, Steve, who has been missing for six months, appears and announces that he wants to gather their entire company and classmates. The assumption about the Maldives turns out to be incorrect, Steve tells Robin that he just returned from a scientific symposium in Germany and wants to share all sorts of news.
You are also invited, despite the fact that your correspondence continues to consist of a lonely “fucking son of a bitch” from which you concludes that Steve has forgotten about all the past awkwardness. Or he pretends to forget.
In the end after that graduation you saw each other enough times, and Steve acted normally. You work in the same hospital after all, so it is necessary to maintain adequate relationships - and apparently Steve succeeded in this better than you. In the end, it’s clear which one of you is calling names in the direct messages.
At first, you don't want to go, and Robin agrees, because this gathering definitely won’t make things better. Then you suddenly change your mind and get dress up for the party, despite the fact that Steve is gathering everyone at his house, which means Nancy will be there too.
- If he loved her, - you say with fake joyfulness, checking yourself in the mirror and straightening your black shirt, (because you can’t wear white, the stupid wound would show through. You cover it with a band-aid, it stings, and flowers still sometimes come out.), - He would have married her long ago. Axiom.
Outside you smoke two cigarettes in a row to calm down yourself, and Robin says it’s harmful in your case to smoke at all, but you burst into laughter, brightly, beautifully. It's funny indeed to advise not to smoke to a person who already has bushes instead of lungs. Or in what form do lilies usually bloom? In the bushes, right?
By the time you arrive, there are already a lot of people in the large, cozy apartment, and Steve meets you at the entrance - with a pack of cigarettes in his hand, because he was also apparently planning to go out to smoke. You meet his eyes, like in a shitty melodrama, and freeze.
And usually people say that the eyes of their beloved are pretty, bottomless, bright and all this shit, but you see them in different way. The position of the eyeball is correct, movements are full, free, eyelids are adjacent, eyelash growth is correct. The lacrimal apparatus is without any features, the conjunctiva is pale pink and clean.
- Hi, - Steve hugs you both and doesn’t notice with what morbid interest you are staring at him. - Come on in, guys, good to see you. Everyone is already here, we were waiting for you. Or you wanna smoke first?
You purses your lips and squeezes past Steve, and only God knows (and Robin, probably) how much effort it takes you not to look at Steve anymore and generally pretend that everything is fine.
Flowers react to their creator: throat tightens, and it becomes more difficult to breathe, head becomes heavy, and a grass taste rises up the throat, as if you were chewing hay half an hour ago, and now it wants back outside.
The company is just right, Nancy is beautiful and smiling, and for you the main goal of the evening become not to behave decently there, but at least not to suffocate, because as soon as Steve appears in sight, your body begins to prepare for mating dances.
- If you go throw up, don’t forget to clean up the flowers - Robin leans towards your ear and tugs on the leather necklace around your neck. - Or maybe don't. Who the hell knows, maybe if Steve will understand everything, you’ll at least talk about this?
An enraged look in response lets Robin know that you are not going to talk with Steve on this topic, although life has other plans this evening: during a general conversation Steve, hugging Nancy sitting next to him says, that he, as a part of a research group, began to develop non-surgical therapy for the flower virus.
Well, who would have thought.
You choke on your drink and look up at Steve for the first time this evening.
- Really? – The voice soaked with defiant causticity when you pretend to grin, while feeling as if you had swallowed a piece of ice. - How is it going?
Steve shines like a fucking garland, hugs his Nancy and really seems to think that he is busy with fucking important and useful work. No, maybe it really is important and useful, but you want to scream.
- We are at the initial stage, - Steve joyfully answers and spreads his hands wide, as if showing how ambitious the researchers’ plans are. It’s not like you, eye-healers, sitting there raking the specks out of people's eyes, or whatever you’re doing there. Oh, yes, you treat cataracts for old ladies. – It is necessary to understand what factors influence the fact that human interferon is not able to resist the virus. Animals do not get sick from it; experiments have shown this more than once. So there's a high chance of identifying antidotal substances sooner or later.
- Wow, cool, - you inertly clap you hands and get up, grabbing a pack of Marlboros. Why doesn’t such an apartment have a balcony, what a joke? - This is a very honorable thing. Keep me updated.
Steve seems to be saying something else, but you are no longer listening to him, going out onto the staircase, and Robin is generally surprised that you didn’t leave earlier. It was clear that your nerves were already on edge, and when the topic of the virus came up, that was it, the last straw and it became obvious that you couldn’t hold on any longer. But no, you even saved your face.
What a brave little girl.
Steve, however, after a minute goes after you, as if sensing something - or finally recognizing a liter of expressed poison in the sarcastic tone. You actually stand on the stairs and smoke, leaning on the railing, and look down at the opening between the floors, as if wondering if you can jump there. The problem is that you will most likely survive. Not an option. And it will be ugly too.
- What’s wrong with you? - Steve doesn’t put on a jacket, he goes out in just a T-shirt, striking a lighter. You hear his voice and grimace. - You sat there all evening like something got your panties in a twist.
You turn around and make an apologetic face innocently, mockingly, although you're shaking either from anger or from resentment (at Steve, at yourself, at the idiotic situation), and you try to hide your trembling hands in your pockets.
- And you're an expert on panties, right? - You hate yourself for this attitude, like a child in the kindergarten, but it’s difficult to control yourself because there is an increasing ache between your ribs, and it hurts so hard that you want to bend in half. You already got used to Ketorol, and the painkillers need to be changed. Fucking flowers, fucking painkillers, fucking Steve.
He opened his mouth to answer, but you finally bent over at the most inopportune moment, because you had been holding back all evening, you even persuaded Robin to give you baralgin in your vein so that there would be a block for at least a few hours - and now the block's over, and after it the attacks are always stronger. You cough exasperatedly, grabbing the railing, covering your mouth with your hand in horror, realizing that you can't stop flowers from coming out now.
Indeed the cough pushes another bloody flower into the palm of your hand, and you recoils from Steve rushing towards you - he turns pale, turns green (and he calls himself a doctor?), seeing the blood on your fingers, looks at you with genuine horror, while you are already quite indifferently walking towards the garbage can and throw away the flower.
You take paper napkins from your pocket and wipe your hands. All this in silence, without a single word, because what's the point of talking now anyway. And it’s unlikely that Steve, who recently started to explore this virus, won’t understand what happend. You don't have to be a researcher to understand what's going on here when a girl in front of you starts to cough a huge flower.
- Y/n, what the fuck is that? - you're amused because you have never heard such a tone from Steve. Scared, worried. - What the fuck is this? What the fuck is happening?
You even look at him with interest, wondering in what other variations you will hear this simple question. Steve's hands are shaking, like a heroin addict suffering from withdrawal symptoms, while he tries to shake one more cigarette out of his pack. Or an explanation of what's going on.
- Who is this, huh? – Steve whispers, while you send the bloody napkins after the flower into the garbage can. - Why don’t you...
− Who? – you don't know whether to laugh or cry, and therefore choose neutral and theatrically press your hands to your chest. Seriously, Steve is dumb even in this situation and can't put two and two together. – Are you serious, Steve? You should drink some glycine. Fish oil, or what other vitamins do we need to keep our head working? You need them, you want to invent a cure from this disease after all, yeah? As you already understood, I’m interested.
(You're not)
- Stop with this shit, - Steve clutches a cigarette in his teeth and, taking a step towards you grabs you by the shoulders and shakes you roughly, in order to somehow bring you to your senses. Although he's the one who needs to put himself together here - he is pale, eyes opened wide, his fingers are trembling, you feel it. - Fucking answer me!
And you are generally so happy all of a sudden that you look at Steve, bowing your head to the side like a bird, and don't feel shy anymore to openly glance over his face - there is slight stubble on his cheeks, his lips are bitten, chapped, his eyebrows are furrowed, eyes angry.
For you Steve is incredibly handsome, and this made it difficult to breathe even without flowers.
- Okay, since you insist so much, I’ll answer all of your questions, - you say and carefully disentangles yourself from his strong grip. - Who is it? You. Am I kidding? No. Has it started a long time ago? Yes. Why don't I have surgery? I don't want to. That's it. Can I go now, I have to get up early for work tomorrow?
Steve becomes numb, unable to utter a word, and you can be proud of yourself because you didn't start to cry and looked decent in this whole unfortunate situation.
- You’re joking, - Steve says helplessly.
You roll your eyes.
- Stop, I told you, I'm serious. And as you can see, all these years i haven’t said anything, and I wouldn’t have said anything further if I hadn’t gotten myself outed like an idiot today. Steve, let's not talk about this, shall we? Please.
You stop acting tough, like you don't care at all - you become serious, a little tired, you ask sincerely, and this completely drives Steve into a dead end. You go back to the flat to pick up your jacket, nod goodbye to all the friends and even Nancy, and then go down the stairs, waving to Steve.
He burns himself with the second cigarette in a row and swears under his breath.
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Steve can't sleep all night, and the next morning he immediately calls Robin, as soon as the acceptable time for this comes - he even doesn’t care that she is at work. He tries to bombard her with questions because he is sure that Robin knows everything - and he's right; he doesn’t hold back, he accuses and freaks out, like, what the hell, but Robs doesn’t appreciate his yelling.
- Don't, Steve - she says sternly, and this tone somehow makes Steve quiet. – I wouldn’t tell you anything, because I don’t have the right to do so. This is not my secret. And you know her as well as I do.  Once she has gotten something into her head, it is impossible to change her mind.  And yes, I’ve been fighting for six months now to get her to do surgery.
- Robin, let’s meet today, yeah? Fuck, I have to know everything, - Steve starts once again, and Robin has to agree. - I can’t do this, I can’t just leave it like that. I do care about her for fuck sake!
He tells Nancy some nonsense to get away from home for the whole day, because his chaotic thoughts are making his head swell. He meets Robin only at lunch, she promised to get out of the hospital, and Steve has a lot of time, which he spends sitting in a cafe and mindlessly studying your profile on Instagram. 
You post beautiful photos and selfies and Steve would never believe that this pretty girl, flawless on every photograph, covers up bruises under her eyes in the morning and picks flowers out of abscesses.
Steve has already written more than one article on this virus and doesn't romanticize it at all, and he can only wonder how do you manage to hide everything from everyone for such a long period of time? 
He opens the recent photo in your profile, you are looking at him, photographed against the background of a plain wall with lilies in hands. And Steve isn't sure you bought these flowers.
Conversation with Robin doesn’t make the situation better.
- Don't blame yourself, - says Robin, - It’s her decision, and it’s not your fault that this happened because of you. She didn’t blame herself at all while Billy walked around half-dead.
- But he had surgery, - Steve says quietly, and Robin nods. - What kind of... What kind of flowers are those anyway?
- Looks like daffodils. I don't know.
- Daffodils, - Steve smiles sadly, awkwardly, and this immediately makes Robin uncomfortable, as if she has inserted into someone else’s life without asking, even thou they both are her best friends. - It fits her.
And just like that, the puzzle comes together: strange behavior and name-calling in the Instagram direct message. This is you, and in general this explains a lot.
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Before the operating day you always go to bed early, because there can be two or ten operations, and even though most of them are trivial and quick, an attempt to screw up can cost someone an eye. On an operating day a clear head and a steady hand are especially needed, and you even allow yourself to take half of phenazepam in the evening in order to sleep better.
The fact that you will have to urgently call to work and ask to be replaced becomes clear in the very first second, when you, waking up in the middle of the night, can't open your eyes - a sharp pain radiates to your head, as if sharp blades had been shoved under the eyelids.
You growl through your teeth and roll out of bed, starting to rummage around in the bedside table - you have a bunch of different eye drops piled up there, and in order to even open your eyes normally and see what happened, you have to pour in a freezer. A quick examination in the mirror shows swollen eyelids, bright red sclera and bloody discharge - your fingers tremble when you pull back the lower eyelid and see several tiny white flowers there.
A perfect small copy. The anger takes over instantly and doesn't let go - you smash a vase in the bathroom and desperately scream.
You drip some useless antiviral to calm your soul, then add Broxinac. 
You even call your colleague and lie about viral conjunctivitis, after that you're running circles around the apartment and kicking chairs and armchairs. This is already a knife in the back. You wasn’t ready for such crap, even if you assumed that these fucking flowers would sooner or later come out of the eyes too.
To be honest you just hoped to die before this happened. You once again go to the bathroom, rake out tiny buds from under the eyelids, drip more anesthesia and go back to bed, turning off the phone. Today is your day off.
"And don’t fucking call me", you write to Steve on Instagram before falling asleep, and it’s not like Steve was gonna call.
When college ends and that graduation takes place, at which you, having interrupted Steve mid-sentence in a conversation on the balcony, lean forward and kiss him, freezing - Steve is so lost. It takes about ten seconds to realize what happened, and for all these ten seconds you study his lips with your own, and only then you recoil, pressing your palms to your chest.
Steve pushes you more out of confusion than out of anger; he doesn’t control his hands at all then - and it’s not like he’s very drunk. It’s you who usually gets wasted from one glass of wine, and Steve is more experienced, and he always remembers everything to the last detail.
You look at him helplessly and run out of the balcony and out of the apartment in general, before Steve can say a word.
Then you both try hard to pretend that nothing happened, and at some point Steve begins to think that it was just your incomprehensible joke. Now, when Steve remembers these white flowers, he belatedly realizes how stupid he was for thinking it was just a jock, he realizes his brain gave him a perfect excuse to not look any deeper into that event and most importantly he realizes you both needed to talk about it right after the kiss happend.
"Good job, Steve", he thinks gloomily and gives himself sarcastic applause. "Talking went well".
There were always a lot of people around Steve, and even if not all of them were friends, there were plenty of acquaintances. And they say, every friend is for something special - there is a friend to play football with them and watch the Champions League, there is a friend to go on a double date with the girls, there is a friend from whom you can copy homework when you didn't have time to do it. And you were a friend for soul, and Steve would be lying if he denied that you were his favorite friend.
You always lived in some kind of 4D world of your own, beautiful as unicorn's snot, complex and unusual, and therefore especially cool - and you were as cool as these unicorn's snot, which once upon a time helped Voldemort get back on his feet. You were helping Steve in the same way and sometimes didn’t even suspect it.
Steve could always come to you, lie down by your side and start whining about how he got rejected by yet another girl; you, without looking up from your textbook, were laughing and saying that the time would come, and some princess would definitely fall in love with him. Steve remembers that conversation now and grins - well, yes, you were right. The princess indeed fell in love with him.
Steve never hid the fact that he adores you from the tips of your fingers to your very fucked up jokes. Steve never had a problem admitting his admiration for anyone, and you were a perfect subject for this - Steve admired almost everything about you. Intelligence, thinking, an understanding of the world, puns that are stupid to the point of genius, the beaded handwriting, calligraphic, doesn't even look like a doctor’s handwriting at all.
Laughter, which Steve could listen to instead of a lullaby, and also bright soft eyes under long and fluffy eyelashes. Steve sincerely admired you and never considered it something more than a friendship. He laughed at your every phrase, waited with his mouth open for your stories and loved spending his free time with you. You were his favorite friend, and when it all ended like that, Steve felt empty.
No, he had already matured, and like a real big boy, he accepted the understanding that sometimes this happens - paths diverge, people come and go, but he didn't think, honestly didn’t think and was not ready, that you would leave his life just like that. You, whom he visited every damn evening before that fucking graduation, and lay next to you, talking non-stop about everything that was in his head and leaning towards the palm that stroked his hair.
You both were twenty-three, everything was so right and natural, and Steve never thought that it could be otherwise. Now you are twenty-eight, and he doesn’t know what he can do to fix anything.
To be honest, he is still ready to be the one to blame for everything, if only you would agree to accept his help.
You, as expected, don't answer his calls, although you appear online in almost all messengers - most likely, you either blocked him or simply ignore him, and Steve, after meeting his father in the main building, goes to microsurgery, deciding to wait until the end of the working day.
There's basically only an hour left, and Steve sits down on a bench along the alley, looking around furtively and lighting a cigarette - actually, he's not allowed to smoke here, but right now it's vital for him.
- Jonathan, hi, man, - he exhales a stream of smoke, waiting for Byers to pick up the phone. - Are you busy? I have to distract you. Tell me, are you working with those patients now? Regarding our research, I mean.
He met Byers back when they found themselves in a target research group for the development of non-surgical therapy, and immediately became friends. And if Steve doesn't deal with patients and operations, studying the theory, then Jonathan works directly with patients - judging by his reports, dozens of people with flowers in their bodies pass through his hands every month.
- Of course, Steve. Just had another surgery today. The woman with metastases. What's the question?
- Tell me, - Steve says slowly, – Are there any official mechanisms that force patients to undergo treatment?
Jonathan is silent for a long time, clearly seriously considering the question.
- No, dude. It’s the same as with any other disease, we can't force anyone to undergo treatment. You haven’t seen anyone with cancer or HIV being forced to do so, right? Many even refuse to do retroviral therapy. It’s the same here, - Byers rustles something in the background. - The only thing is that if it's teenagers, a psychologist can work with them and try to convince them. Why, you got a pubescent girl suffering from unrequited love?
Steve gloomily grimaces.
- A grown ass woman with a medical education.
- Oh, well, - Steve almost can see how Jonathan shrugs in surprise. - It seems like a choice, I'm afraid. The main thing is that if she will suddenly change her mind and want to undergo surgery, it will be very difficult in the last stages. Many doctors don't even agree to do it. But to fully understand the situation, I at least need to see the flowers.
Steve lowers his head, examining the cigarette pressed into the asphalt, and is silent for a long time, closing his eyes. There is very little time left before the end of the working day, and he needs to catch you before you see him and run away again.
- Well, hello, - Steve barely manages to grab you by the elbow as you rush down the alley and pull you towards himself so that you almost fall on top of him. You look angrily from under your brows and dark glasses. - Don't run away. Are you okay?
He notices that the sun is gone, it’s a gloomy autumn outside, it’s cold October, and dark glasses clearly seem unnecessary.
- Never been better, - you spit out and try to free yourself, but if Steve has grabbed onto something like a tick, then he can’t be torn off. - What do you want from me? I need to go home.
- And we’ll go, - Steve agrees and jingles his car keys. - Don’t worry.
Not paying attention to all the bickering, Steve puts you in the car, no longer even asks you to take off your glasses, because he understands that you're hiding something. You spend the entire way home in silence, and you generally turn away and look out the window, just not to look at him, who, on the contrary, does nothing but stare. You even snap and ask him to stop looking. It’s good that your eyes have gotten better today, although in between patients you ran to the toilet a couple of times to cry with flowers - you swore and watched as they, so tiny that they could be washed straight into the sink, stuck to the ceramics.
Steve follows you into the apartment without an invitation, although you silently try to push him out - in melodramas the characters make eye contact and freeze, but in reality you almost get into a fight just in case. Steve, having gotten angry, simply shoves you into the hallway and slams the door behind you both.
- Calm down, - he advises almost threateningly and points towards the bathroom. - Otherwise I’ll have to put you in the cold shower. Maybe you can at least make me some tea, idiot?
You look at him like a wolf and silently go to the kitchen, hit the button on the kettle, slam the cabinet doors, taking out tea and snacks. You loudly slam the refrigerator door, move chairs as if they were made of stone, put cups on the table, trying, as it feels, to break them. Steve trains breathing techniques and enters the kitchen already calm, catching you by the hand and forcing you to stop.
- Thank you, - he says softly, nodding at the cups with hot tea. It’s already October outside, it’s cold, and his fingers are numb. - Y/n, stop and listen to me. No, I said, listen, don’t try to interrupt me.
You immediately feel as if you are a teenage girl and you stand in front of the boy you like, looking at him with wide eyes, unable to say a word - only you are now standing in front of Steve, who has sat down on a chair and is holding your hands in his, not allowing you to escape. 
- I have a good friend who deals with these issues, - Steve begins and hurries to continue, because you are obviously starting to go furious. - Please, let’s just at least consider this option.
- Jesus, leave me alone, for God’s sake, -  you pull your hands away, but Steve catches them again, looking into your face - you are still so pretty. No, much more pretty than you were five years ago, your age incredibly suits you. Although Steve's not sure what is age and what is disease. - Shove your pity up your ass, Steve. I don't need it. And if you feel guilty, I will write in my will that you have nothing to do with it. I’ll write - "if you thought I was in love with Steve Harrington and it's all his fault, then no, I wasn't and it's not." Are you happy now?
Steve looks at you skeptically, and it is very clear what he thinks about this. You feel almost unbearable urge to slap him.
- You know what? Yeah, - Steve agrees unexpectedly easily. - This will be quite enough. The most important thing is that no one, God forbid, thinks that you were in love with me, otherwise everyone will think it's my fault you died. Be sure to write it, I beg you. I guess I can go now. I'm very glad you understood me.
And he gets up just like that, smiling and waving, only bowing is missing, and before you have time to react to his little show, Steve grabs you by the shoulders and shakes you like a kitten - he looks so angry, as if he could gnaw your throat with his teeth and not even choke. You involuntarily calm down and look helplessly, begin to cough meaningfully, because your breathing is short again, and your ribs begin to ache.
- Stop this fucked up shit, for fuck's sake, - Steve hisses, spitting out the words in your face in such way that you really want to run your palm over your skin and take them off. - Stop thinking I don’t give a fuck about you, that I don’t give a fuck about what's happening to you. Although I understand that it's so convenient. And so pleasant, right, fucking drama queen? Let me at least do something for you.
You smile, gesturing for Steve to move away, turn away and cough, bending over the sink - you immediately wash everything off, wipe your lips and drink a glass of water in one gulp to soothe your itchy throat. You wipe your hands for a long time, then look up at Steve - you finally took off your glasses, and he sees that your eyes were bloodshot and eyelids were swollen.
- What do you want? Or rather, what can you do?
- Something, - Steve answers and suddenly pulls you to him, hugs you, buries his nose in your hair, taking advantage of his height, and closes his eyes; you fall completely silent, feeling Steve pressing you tightly to himself, not giving you a single chance to escape. - Just at least don’t tell me to go away. I don’t care what you think about pity and about the fact that I feel guilty. I just miss you.
And you understand what Steve is talking about - you miss him, too, since the time that you didn't communicate normally, since the time Steve pushed you away on the balcony after a kiss, since the time you became strangers.
While Steve hugs you tightly and doesn’t let you go, the flowers don’t tear your chest from the inside so much.
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Robin unironically loves to come to microsurgery in her free time and sit in the corner of the examination room, watching you work.
In addition to the fact that patients of all ages - young and old (mostly male) sincerely consider you the most wonderful doctor in the world, you really do your job perfectly - despite the fact that you spent the last years of the university under the banner of a love-struck brain. Yes, even though you occupied both hemispheres of your brain with your love for Steve at that time, you, out of habit, didn't stop being a swot. It's just that Steve suddenly became one too.
Until the fourth year, to be honest, the words “symposium” and “Steve Harrington” simply couldn't be imagined in one sentence. Robin has suspicions that you played a significant role in Steve’s changes - you two literally spent all the time together at that time.
Robin squeezes past a line of patients jostling with plump cards with medical histories, and sits down on a tiny chair in the corner - you, standing in the pose of a thinker next to another granny, don’t even notice her.
- Sweetie, I can’t see the last line very well...
- Missis... - you look at the patient card, habitually adjusting the glasses on your nose. - Johnson, please! I've never seen the last line in my life. And I’m not even eighty-three yers old. Don't anger God!
- Doctor, I don’t sleep well at night, - complains another woman.
- I can offer you to work one shift at the hospital with me, - you write down the assignment on the card and hand it to her. - Go to the treatment room.
You are tired of explaining that in microsurgery you don't treat insomnia at all.
− Drip three times a day by the hour according to this scheme. What? What if you mess up the order? Well, I don't know. Perhaps then this will be the last time we see each other. Or rather the last time you see me.
- Yes, two weeks of injections! Yes, imagine, they are also made into the eyes. How? With a needle, obviously, what's so shocking?
- Yes, it might hurt. What did you want to hear from me? That it doesn't hurt? So that you will get disappointed in me later?
Robin, honestly, wouldn’t want to get to you for treatment, but loves to observe how you treat others - the sympathy and compassion in you is at the level zero, of course, and this attitude has the right to exist, because otherwise you will lose your mind.
Robin waits for the end of the reception time, doesn't refuse herself the pleasure of sitting in the procedure, while you make all the injections - confident and accurately, the hand won't flinch, even if the World War lll starts right now.
Robin gets chills when she watches all this: she's a surgeon, saw a lot of messed up things in her life, but eye operations - thank you, but no, thank you. Robin is capable of everything except contemplation of the process of ophthalmic operations.
The working hours end, and you both return to the examination room, because you complain about the bright light, and in there it is always dim. Today you came to work early, caught the boy from the diagnostics and asked to do an optical tomography for you - you had to pay for the his silence, and not only with a charming smile.
As you expected, the flower shoots caused retinal detachment.
You sit on a chair against the wall, lowering your shoulders, and throw back your head, resting the back of it against the wall - your throat moves heavily and unevenly under your skin. Now, in the dim light of the observation room, Robin sees how much you have changed in recent months.
The skin seems to have thinned, become completely grey, the veins are translucent, and they are so dark. The eyelashes cast almost sepulchral shadows on the cheekbones, and the sleeve of the pullover under the robe rode up, revealing a tightly bandaged wrist. Robin reaches out and takes it, examining - even through the dense layers of fabric the relief of the growing stems is visible.
- Rob, - you suddenly begin to speak, and Robin involuntarily leans forward to not lose a single quiet word. Probably, for once, you stop performing comedy on your improvised stage in a one-person theater.
- You love too, I know. You love Vicky. But I also know that this is a different love.
You don’t pull out your hand - the sprouts that are growing under the skin are tightly bandaged, and Robin isn't able to touch them. The more layers, the safer.
- I have different kind of love for him. You know, when I got a job here, one of the first patients I came across was a difficult one, a young girl. I didn’t cure her, it was a difficult case, but the situation somehow got better, under control. And she’s been coming to me to check her eyes for three years now — every single week. She's scared and at the slightest thing she comes straight to me for check up.
You smile, chuckle, and close your eyes.
- I’m not angry with her - it’s hard not to be afraid when you already have only one eye left. And then recently she started coming every other day, we treated her allergies. And she, apparently, is worried that she’s bothering me, and she apologized for this yesterday, and then she says so, fake cheerfully, “Doctor, I’m your cross, accept me as it is.”
Robin feels like she's about to cry. Every person has their own drama.
- And I accept it, - you say and smile - your throat, scratched from the inside, aches, and the words sound barely audible. - Just like I accept this love for Steve. I often get angry about this, I often think it would be better if I had never fallen in love, I often straight up hate him because I'm already so tired of being sick. I mean, I’m just really fucking tired of it, no bullshit. But I love this love because it makes me me.
You rub your tired, reddened eyes, reach for the shelf with medicines to drop more ophthalmoferon.
- I never thought I was capable of this. To feel like this, to love like this. That's what it's like. That's what Taylor Swift sang about. That's why they lost their minds and fought the wars.
What Taylor Swift sings about love is the last thing Robin thinks about when her friend is choking on the lilies.
- The good thing about the situation is that it gives you a choice, - you say, putting your hand on Robin’s shoulder, squeezing your fingers, encouraging. You support her as if it shouldn’t be the other way around. - And I chose. Chose to be myself.
And you don’t look unhappy at all now, except that same yearning is frozen in your eyes, but you have gotten used to that too. It is there fused with the iris with adhesions and vessels, it has made its way under the edges of the retina with green stems.
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- Steve, I understand that you’re nervous, but that won’t make me shit you a magical pill, - Jonathan is obviously annoyed, and Steve can hear it even over the phone. - Your screams don’t help much with our work, you know. You are a member of the group just like me, and you know no more no less, than me.
Steve sighs heavily and looks out of the window to check the road - you have a day off today, but you don't answer his calls, and this makes him nervous.
Nancy, of course, grimaced when Steve, instead of spending the day with her, got into the car and rushed to "some friend".
Her wording made Steve so pissed that he chose not to continue the conversation.
- Fuck, I’m sorry, dude, - he said reluctantly. - It’s just that I’m here with my family for a couple of months anyway, I won’t be able fly to Germany now, so I feel like I’m missing out on everything.
And it seems that the last thing he means by saying this is working on therapy.
- There are no other options now, - Jonathan repeats for the hundredth time, and Steve stops the car at your house. - Either surgery, or you know. No one has yet come up with a better interferon than reciprocity.
"And sometimes it seems there will be no other cure at all" - the words hang unspoken in the air.
You open the door after Steve ringed the bell three times, disheveled, sleepy and desperately yawning - and stare at pissed Steve as he squeezes into the apartment.
- I'm not even gonna ask what the fuck, y/n.
- I was sleeping, - you answer, and then your face lights up with understaning. - What, did you think I died? In your dreams!
Steve barely restrains himself from shaking you angerly by the shoulders, but to see you smiling like this means to forgive everything in the world, including Steve's fucked-up nerves. Since that evening, you see each other, if not every day, then often enough for Steve to understand what is happening to you, and even though his observations don’t exactly please him, the relationship between you becomes almost the same as before.
During these long and short meetings, you stubbornly don't say anything about your condition, although Steve has enough experience to understand for himself how serious everything is - you ignore all questions. And even now, having scared the crap out of Steve, you quite calmly go to prepare breakfast. Steve, sitting on a chair, watches you incessantly, and you eventually can't stand it.
- What, are you eating yourself alive now?
- I am, - agrees Steve, shrugging his shoulders, - Are you?
- I’m not, - you answer and, turning around, suddenly extend your hand to Steve, and when he takes it, you come closer and look seriously, as if cutting him open with your eyes. - Steve, no one is to blame for this. Everything is fair. I didn't want to fall in love with you, but i did it anyway. And you didn’t want to hurt me, but you did it anyway. It’s not your fault that I fell in love with you, and it’s not my fault that I don’t want to turn into a plant after the operation.
Fuck, what a pun.
- I regret I didn’t have enough brain to talk to you back then, - Steve freezes when you very carefully touch his eyelids, slightly faded light eyelashes, and the thin skin under his eyes with your fingertips. - Maybe something would have turned out differently.
- No, - you simply answer. - It wouldn’t have. I'm a fatalist, Steve. It is what it is. There is a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them. By the way, your eyelid is inflamed, might be the stye.
Steve is completely lost for a second, and then he laughs loudly, honestly, throwing his head back - as only he can; and you smile too, even if you don’t understand what he finds so funny.
- You’re still the same, - he says, laughing. - The most unexpected person on Earth.
Steve is fooling around as if you both are twenty-two again, you are not throwing up huge lilies, and you two are just skipping physical education to prepare for microbiology. No one kissed anyone, no one pushed anyone away, no one abandoned anyone; no one loved anyone...
Steve interferes you with doing breakfast, steals muffins from the refrigerator and smears himself with them, stuffing his mouth full and constantly getting in your way - you curse, drop the spatula, kick him out of the kitchen, to which you receive only laughter in response. And you can't help but smile, forgetting about everything that ultimately brought you two closer again. It’s just that Steve is here now, and you feel a little bit better.
Steve looks at you, catches every smile and every gesture - and thinks that since then, his feels towards you hasn't changed at all. This is the same honest admiration for you - from your smile to your fingertips - absolutely everything you say and do;
- I missed you so fucking much, - he whispers and doesn’t even understand why he’s pulling you closer to him, but he doesn’t even think about holding back. - Shhh, don’t twitch, I’m just sniffing the hair. It smells nice.
Yeah, like fucking lilies.
You let yourself go, allowing yourself to forget about everything - and reach out to Steve, without resisting your desires, emotions, your cross; the flowers inside open up, rustling with huge white petals, filling your chest - it feels like flower smell comes from your lips instead of breathing. And for once it doesn't hurt.
You talk about everything and nothing again, like before, drink tea and you, sitting on the window sill of the balcony, press your shoulder close to Steve, not because it’s cold, but because you want to.
Steve laughs at every joke you say, typically a doctor's ones. You laugh because he does, rest your forehead on his shoulder, and your shoulders shake with laughter.
Steve hugs them with one hand, squeezes his fingers on your waist.
- We can have sex, if you want? - Steve either goes all in or is a complete idiot.
You feel so good right now that you don’t even think about these words and motives, and there’s a smile in your eyes when you playfully bite your lip - you have nothing to lose. A biblical garden blooms inside you, and your mouth in the morning is not filled with oral sex, but with huge snow-white buds.
- Not now, - you laugh, throwing back your head and exposing your neck, and it should be kissed all over, bitten, licked along every veins, and Steve thinks he’s going crazy. - It will be the most fucked up moment in my life if flowers will come out of my pussy.
It’s like Steve is twenty-two again, and he is crazy about you – from your fingertips to the stupidest of jokes.
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When Steve has to fly away for two weeks, his insides clench with irrational panic, and he calms himself only by thinking that they have a trial radiotherapy test scheduled. He first demands, then asks and - in the end - begs you not to ignore his calls and messages, and in the end simply asks Robin to be in touch with him.
She is still trying to resist that it's your right not to answer if you don't want to, but Steve starts yelling. And when Steve yells, any arguments stop working.
However, you answer him every day, and Steve holds his breath every time he sends a message.
"How are you?"
In each such question there is more honesty than in the mile-long messages that Nancy demands from him. Steve grinds his teeth, aggressively typing answers for her, while he checks his WhatsApp every minute and doesn’t see himself from the outside when he gets another selfie from you from work - your crooked grin against the backdrop of some bloody post-operative rags. His face cracks with a smile so much that Jonathan pushes him on the shoulder - put yourself together, dude.
Only now, having found you in his life again, Steve realizes how much he missed you. And he can't believe that all this is happening to you two, this whole stupid fairy tale; and if you hadn’t covered your mouth with your palms in an attempt to hold back the flowers bursting out, risking suffocation, Steve would have laughed.
He would have laughed that this is not about you, that it’s not happening to both of you, that you’re kidding, there are no fucking daffodils.
- Lilies! - you bark into the phone when Steve, having mixed up time zones, calls you in the middle of the night. - Is it really that hard to remember?
As long as you answer him, everything is fine, and Steve tries not to think that one day you may not answer not because you try to piss him off by ignoring him.
After one of the working days, you come to Robin’s department and say you took a sick leave - and conceal the fact that you had an attack today right during the patient check up, and you barely managed to give an injection with trembling fingers, almost piercing the patient’s cornea. Robin understands everything without words, because you continually scratch your itchy wrists and wheeze with a hoarse throat. You can't put patients at risk.
But you take pen and paper and write your love story in the article “Pathological changes in the retina of the eye in the extreme stages of the flower virus.” And every now and then you begin to take an article to Robin for editing, because you are also a graphomaniac - if inspiration suddenly comes, you write non-stop, but are too lazy to re-read it.
You again plunge into science headlong, describing yourself from the reflection in the mirror and white sheets of paper with the results of ultrasound, biomicroscopy and optical tomography - there tiny green stems make their way through the tissue. You smile, looking at the studies, trying to understand the techniques of possible operations that you, of course, won't make on yourself. This takes up almost all of your free time, and you come to Robin with a heap of papers and a burning gaze, as if you weren't the one getting paler every day - and sleeping less and less, because you were choking with an annoying cough.
- Y/n, - Steve calls again in the middle of the night, but you are not sleeping. You smile, watching Steve almost poke his nose on the screen, trying to take a closer look at you. - Y/n, radiotherapy gives the first results on infected cells.
You don’t even listen to him - yes, of course, all of this is very important, but not for a person who already has more flowers in her body than blood, who almost has flowers instead of blood flowing through her veins. It's autumn outside, cold November, and you think this is the most suitable month to turn into a biblical garden in your bed.
- Steve, - you whisper, interrupting, don’t listen to Steve’s explanation. - Steve, will you come back soon?
He falls silent, looking at the screen strangely - as if he wants to reach out, to touch, but the fucking technology will not let do that soon, if ever. Steve would give any money in the world right now just to teleport to your room in one second. He chuckles silently, thinking what a fool he was for wasting so much time.
Although how would he have understood anything, if you hadn’t been taken away from him now, torn from his hands?
- Soon, - he answers quietly. - I'll be back soon.
- I'll be waiting.
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Steve fights with Nancy, when in the heat of the moment she shouts something about you and "his stupid friends" - Steve is shaking with anger, and it’s easier to just hastily grab his jacket and get out. He just had arrived and there was already a scandal - and especially on the topic of you, the mention of which makes Steve see red.
Steve doesn’t understand what is happening to him, but desperately doesn’t want to admit it's all because of guilt. Steve can't get enough of you, he wants to eat you, drink you, consume you until he faints, everything’s not enough for him, what has a fucking guilt to do with it?
It was always like this with you.
You are his favorite friend, and your condition is now more important than Nancy's tantrums.
On the threshold Steve silently grabs you in his arms, hugging you tightly, almost until your ribs crack – you wheeze and utter a strangled "Steve, let me go, I'm gonna throw up flowers on you”, flutters weakly and bury your nose into his neck, tickling it with light breath.
- Throw up, - Steve agrees, finally smiling as only he can: wide, infectious, sincere - this smile warms you to the point of burns. - From head to toe, I don't care.
Steve feels such relief seeing you again, even if he feels with his hands almost every protruding bone of your body - now, it seems, you can be broken with any careless gesture. Steve doesn’t explain anything, silently hands you a huge bouquet of multi-colored socks and sits down on an ottoman in the hallway, showing anticipation with all his appearance.
- Sorry, I decided not to buy flowers, you already have plenty of 'em. Now get dressed. Let's go for a walk.
Steve watches you pull on a huge sweater, pants torn at the knees, and spend a long time spinning in front of the mirror. Then you hide in the bathroom, swallow some pills and come out, almost up to your ears in a scarf. Steve distantly thinks that you are still somehow incredibly pretty - even with those dark shadows under your eyes.
Steve puts you in the car in the front seat, chats incessantly, doesn't explain where you are going - he only stops by for coffee for you two.
Steve himself doesn’t know where he’s going, just wants to get some distraction, out of town, to breathe in the fresh evening air, because you keep opening the window to take a deep breath. You are suffocating, even if you try not to show it, and your eyes itch, they itch so much, you want to take them out and insert new ones.
- I have a guitar there, in the trunk, - Steve says suddenly, when you drive a couple of miles from the city. - Come on. Like at the university?
- You still remember how to play? - you snort, looking at him funny.
- Muscle memory.
And Steve really still knows how to play. You leave the highway along the edge of some field that goes down to a small river. Steve takes out a guitar and a blanket for you from the trunk, and both of you sit down on a fallen tree.
Steve plays a very simple melody, and you finish your coffee and wrap yourself in a blanket like a caterpillar - just about to turn into a butterfly. You can finally breathe easier: either with help of the evening air away from the city, or with Steve very close to you, shoulder to shoulder.
At the university you all loved to spend the evenings before exams like this - with a guitar and cider; that time there were no white doctor's coats, operating gloves, fucking flowers and broken hearts. Robin is smart, Robin is a surgeon, she says there are no broken hearts, there can be all sorts of pathologies, defects and insufficiencies, but not cracks, and you must understand this - you are also a doctor after all.
- I’m an eye doctor, this is different, - you say out loud to your thoughts - completely by accident. - Microsurgeon. Which means I might have broken heart.
Steve looks up at you, never ceasing to pluck the strings with his fingers.
- Robin says so, - you explain. - Like, you can’t have a broken heart, it’s all nonsense, you are a doctor! And I assert there can’t be hearts in the eyes, because it’s fucking impossible. In the eyes only the sclera, cornea, iris and pupil are visible - and the limbus, if you look closely. But a broken heart is different.
Steve’s fingers, trembling, break from the string, and the sound turns out so thin, hysterical, it freezes in the air, like unspoken words. You argue as if not noticing him, as if you're generally alone in the world - a lone actress on stage, the amphitheater is empty. You say something, but Steve doesn’t hear you, all the sounds are in the background around him, ordinary and insignificant - the only important thing is that Steve focuses his gaze on you, on your slightly chapped lips, saying something and for the first time formalizes your thoughts into desire.
Steve reaches out to you over the guitar, his fingers slip again almost to the scratches, and he catches your lips with his own - an awkward, desperate kiss, as if miles separate you, and not just one old guitar. Your lips are dry, and your eyes are wide open - the guitar cracks somewhere under your elbow, the old wood breaks, and you both somehow awkwardly fall on top of it and each other.
And then Steve kisses you more slowly, more consciously, holding your chin with his fingers - it seems to you that every second stretches into eternity, and in each of these eternities you are ready to die, turning into a blooming garden.
Or into a flowerbed.
- Too bad the guitar got broken, - Steve's quiet voice is heard near your ear, and a smile can be discerned in this voice. - But that’s not the most important thing, is it?
You close your heavy eyelids, squeeze his fingers in yours, and this gesture contains everything: longing, stupid one-sided love, gratitude, reluctance to let go and reluctance to leave - for the first time ever and only for a second.
You will never regret your choice, because you chose to be yourself.
- The most important thing is that, - you whisper barely audible.
we are free.
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You love November, because in this month everything around freezes - the world itself, sounds disappear, as if in a vacuum, and everything around dies in order to be born again. No, it’s not like you believe in reincarnation and life after death, you are a doctor after all and this has long left an indelible imprint on your understanding of reality. But a broken heart won’t heal itself, and there can’t be hearts in the eyes, because that’s fucking impossible.
A broken heart is something else.
- Robin, we live in a world where people throw up flowers out of love, what realism are you talking about! - you shout, flapping your arms like wings, and this movement causes leaves to fall from a yellow oak branch. You shouldn't have gone out for lunch.
Every morning you wake up from lack of oxygen, hanging over the edge of the bed and coughing up huge white lilies. The irises against the background of bloodshot eyes seem a thousand times brighter and crazier, and tears no longer moisturize - they, too, now always contain tiny petals and seeds.
It’s November outside, every breath feels like a cut of the knife, and a better interferon than love has not yet been invented. And it would at least be fine - if any love.
And your love stands opposite you, wrapped in a stupid puffy jacket, and strokes your sunken cheeks, with his palms.
- Y/n, how are you?
- Bad, - you answer for the first time in all this time, and your lips barely obey. You cling to Steve’s hands with your fingers, stiff from the cold, hide your palms in his pockets and sighs quietly, holding back annoying cough.
– Did you see the crow? - you suddenly say, looking somewhere over his shoulder. – Crows are amazing. If I were a crow, I would also find some cool lighting fixtures on nine-story buildings and sit there like they do.
Steve thinks that in your head there is not just different world, but several universes exist and collide with each other, exploding and mixing, in order to eventually come up with bullshit about the crow.
Steve doesn't think when he pulls you towards him and kisses you, feeling the flowery taste of small smooth petals on his tongue as he catches them with his lips.
- Steve, - you whisper hoarsely, but no longer push him away. - Flowers.
Steve so doesn’t care that he just smiles strangely and strokes the thin skin under the lower eyelids, where the shadows are so big and dark that they like the night can cover entire cities.
- Y/n, - he says, and it’s already the end of November. - Just wait for me, okay?
And you will wait.
At least as long as you can.
35 notes · View notes
bimrwolf · 4 hours
Text
Let's Meet in the Middle
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steve harrington x afab!reader words: 8,603 warnings: ermmm for once no smoot and not edited LMAO im lazy anyways summary: Secretly yearning for your friend and no one notices is a blessing and curse at the same time. a/n: oh boyyyyyyy i havent wrote in ages. im a lil rusty lmao
The twinkling milky stars stretched across the deep pool of midnight, casting an illuminating glow over Sugar Maple Park. It was the only park nestled in the small town of Hawkins. Four swings, a merry-go-round, and a jungle gym. In the corner there was a soon-to-be skateboard ramp under construction. 
You were laying on top of a wooden table, legs dangling over the edge, arms crossed over your stomach, and eyes closed. The crickets sang their summer song and from a distance you could hear an owl hooting. The sweet smells of maple and pine made you feel at peace.
There was the sound of tires dragging against the loose gravel, pulling into the small parking area, headlights glaring. And although your eyes were closed, the bright light made you squint. The car turned off and the doors opened. The engine running had been replaced with arguing voices. 
“I’m telling you, Michaelangelo is far superior than Leonardo. His abilities are out of this world.” 
“Dude, not only is Leonardo smart but he is the most disciplined and trained. Thus, making him the best.” 
Their footsteps made a crunch sound, getting louder as they approached you. You sat up, a little sad that the peace was over, but that didn’t stop you from greeting the two strangers– who were not really strangers– with a big smile. Steve and Robin continued their argument as Robin hopped on top of the table next to you, throwing her arm over your shoulder. Steve stood in front of you two, hands on his hips. 
“Are we seriously arguing over Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, again?” You had rolled your eyes, but couldn’t deny that you were intrigued with what they both had to say. You nudged your foot against Steve’s leg. “I would think that nerd shit wouldn’t interest you.” 
Steve huffed. “Mutant Ninja Turtles is not nerdy. It’s badass.” 
You and Robin shared a laugh. You knew she didn’t actually care for the show, but she loved to piss off Steve as much as she could. “Did you bring it or did I sit out here for ten minutes for nothing?”
Steve looked over at Robin, giving her a pointed look, letting her know that the conversation was not over. Robin rummaged into the breast pocket on her shirt, pulling out a nicely packed joint. “Eddie promised us it isn’t the cheap shit this time.”
Steve threw a lighter towards you to light it. Robin was the one to take the first hit, then you, and finally Steve. “When will I ever get to meet this Eddie Munson?” 
They gave each other another look. The same look you had seen them give each other for five months since you had moved to Hawkins. The look full of secrets, too afraid to put you on it. Because what if it was too much? Or maybe because you wouldn’t understand. Either way you respected their decisions not to share whatever it was. 
You had met Robin and Steve your second day in Hawkins. Your father had been hired to help rebuild the town after a massive earthquake. Everything about the town seemed shady. It wasn’t just Steve and Robin who hid the secrets of the town. It was everyone. 
You should be upset. Agitated. Furious. But you weren’t. Well, to be honest, at first you were a bit irritated with the hushed whispers, but the more you got to know the duo, you realized it wasn’t to exclude you or to be mean. It was to protect you. 
And maybe the secret that bubbled inside you made up for it. 
You tried not to stare too long at Steve’s pink lips as he took a drag of the joint. The way he licked his bottom lip after he blew the trail of smoke out, sighing loudly. “Tough day?” You didn’t mean to make it aware that you were watching him. That you were paying attention. But like always, no one seemed to notice that your question was deeper than just a check-in. You quickly averted your gaze to the joint that had found its way back to you. 
“He’s had to work doubles all week because this guy Martin has mono.” Robin answered for him. 
“He’s lucky.” Steve grumbled. “The time off part, not the mono.” 
Robin elbowed you. “He’s lying. He’s so touched starved. He complained for an hour that he wished he had mono because it meant that he was actually–” 
“Okay, Robin. I think she gets it.” Steve grabbed the joint from your hand, fingers brushing against yours. Did you just imagine him pausing, looking at you endearingly? Must have because he turned away and walked to the swing sets. 
“Aw man, he could have at least left the jay with us.” Robin frowned, leaning back, elbows holding herself up. “Don’t mind him. He’s been in a pissy mood since Esther Clark called him a geek when he asked her out last week.”
“I didn’t know he was crushing on anyone.” You hoped you didn’t sound jealous. “I mean, because he doesn’t really talk to me about that sort of thing.” Nice save, you thought. 
But Robin didn’t seem to notice the waver in your voice. “Steve likes anyone with long hair and boobs.” She looked over at you, eyeing you from top to bottom. “Surprised he hasn’t made a pass at you yet.” 
You awkwardly laughed, eyes wide, and looked over to make sure Steve was still moping on the swingset. “Yeah, like that would ever happen. Me and him would… ha… it’s hilarious just thinking about it. He’s totally not my type.” 
Robin shrugged. “That’s what I love about you. The one girl who isn’t my friend to get to Steve.” 
You smiled weakly, looking at your fidgeting hands, something you always did when you weren’t exactly telling the truth. You had only lived in Hawkins for eight months, but it only took three for you to wake up in the middle of the night and realize you felt more for the brown haired boy. No one had caught onto you either, keeping it quiet, going on dates with random boys you didn’t care about. 
Robin grabbed your hand and dragged you towards the swing sets, letting go to plop in the one right next to Steve. She leaned over to lay her head on his shoulder. You felt a pang of jealousy on how easy it was for them to be friends. How they could put an arm around the other without it being weird or romantic. 
Whenever Steve even looked in your direction your whole world spun. 
You kicked the mulch, hugging yourself, softly laughing at a joke that Robin and Steve really only understood. Pretending was so much easier.  
***
Eddie Munson was erratic, eccentric, obnoxious, but probably the most real and down to earth guy you had met. He was hilarious, making your friends laugh more than you had ever seen them laugh. 
Robin and Steve finally orchestrated a get together that involved Eddie Munson. Steve picked Robin and you up, and drove about ten minutes out of city limits, pulling up to a small cabin in the middle of nowhere. You couldn’t help but feel your heart race. This was Robin and Steve’s evil plan all along. They spent these past months getting you comfortable when really they were trying to kill you. 
But then a man burst through. His hair was short and curly. You could see scars run up his face. It was clear he had a story, but that didn’t seem to matter from the huge, cheesy grin on his face. “My my my. Thought you guys weren’t gonna come.” 
Steve had his window rolled down, and you could see him roll his eyes when you glanced at him in the rearview mirror. “Can you just get in? Don’t want to get you back past your curfew.” 
It confused you. By the look of Eddie, he looked well past the age to still have a curfew. 
Eddie blew out a raspberry, picked up a bag on the ground and strode over to the car. He must have not realized you were there until he approached the back door, brows furrowed when he saw you. You quickly scooted to the other side, thinking you were most likely in his usual spot. 
Eddie didn’t say anything as he opened the door and got in, throwing his bag on the floorboard. Or at least, never said anything to question your existence. He threw his head back and sighed. “Thank god you guys called me. My uncle was trying to convince me to help him with what to wear to his date tonight.” He rubbed his face. 
“No way, Wayne has a hot date tonight?” Robin turned to face him, a big smile on her face. “Is it JoAnn from Dolli’s? I’ve been telling him for months he should ask her out.” 
Eddie chuckled. “Yeah, he stayed with her until the diner closed one night, and she calls him almost every day.” Eddie leaned over and patted Steve on his shoulder. “Sorry man. I bet it’s hard hearing that my fifty-something-year-old Uncle is getting more action than you.”
Steve let out a sarcastic laugh. You swore he glanced into the rearview mirror and looked at you. But his gaze left as quick as it came. You couldn’t help but look away, flustered. 
It was then Eddie finally acknowledged you. “And you must be the fair maiden that my friends have been spending so much time with.” He had a warm smile across his face. 
You told him your name, holding out your hand. He took it. “Name’s Eddie Munson. You can just call me Eds, or even good-looking if you want.” 
You let out a laugh that sounded more like a cackle. 
Robin reached over and his leg. “Put your dick back in your pants, dude. This is why we don’t introduce you to strangers.” 
Eddie seemed to have a permanent cheesy grin on his face. “Can you blame me? I’ve been on house arrest for almost a year. When I see a pretty girl, it’s pretty much an insult not to make a move.” He looked over at you. “Don’t worry, won’t do it again. I just didn’t realize when Steve said you were pretty he actually meant it.” 
You felt that flustered heat rise up again. Pretty. Steve thought you were pretty? You couldn’t react. You couldn’t let anyone know that your stomach was burning with butterflies. “House arrest?” You took the changing the subject route. 
Eddie sighed, shrugged, and pulled up his pant leg to reveal an ankle monitor. “You guys didn’t tell her she’d be hangin’ with a criminal?” 
Steve spoke up. “He’s not even a criminal… well… not the way people thought he was.” 
You should probably start thinking about how this was all a plan to kill you. But when you looked over at Eddie, the sincerity that gleamed in his eyes made you give him a small smile. 
The rest of the car ride was mostly filled with Robin and Eddie bickering back and forth. You would join in the conversation if needed. And once in a while you swore you would catch Steve’s eyes in the mirror, both of you quickly looking away. 
You had always been scared of heights. Something with the anticipation of potentially falling, landing with a thud. It made your knees wobble. You looked down at the creek beneath you, Steve looking up at you as you clutched the rope tightly tied to a branch above you. 
“C’mon, we’re not getting any younger.” Robin said behind you. 
You gave her a helpless look. “I shouldn’t have come up here. I can just climb back down.” Actually, the thought of you climbing down the steep hill of rocks made your stomach churn. 
You heard Steve call your name. “What’s wrong?” 
You couldn’t help but scoff. “Are you kidding? I am facing death right now. I can’t believe you and Rob convinced me to get up here.” 
You felt Robin slightly pull you back. “Here. I’ll show you how easy it is.” With no hesitation, Robin grabbed the rope, ran forward, and swung into the air. She let go and her arms flapped until she wrapped them around her knees. Her, Steve, and Eddie who was sitting on dry land reading a book, all laughed as she crashed into the water. 
Steve ran his hands through his hair, a playful smirk on his face when he looked back up to you. He took a moment as if thinking about something before he began to swim back to land. You watched as he quickly jogged to the edge of the hill. He joined you at the top. 
“This is so embarrassing,” you mumbled. 
He chuckled. “Don’t be embarrassed. It took me months to get over my fear of swimming places like this.” He motioned for you to grab the rope again. 
You did as you were told, giving him another pitiful look. “I’m going to die.”
“You’re not gonna die. I’m gonna jump with you.” He grabbed the rope, his hands beneath yours. 
“Are you crazy? The rope is going to snap in two!” Your heart started to beat fast when his bare chest touched your arm as he scooted closer. 
He rolled his eyes. “Me and Rob do it all the time. Do you trust me?” His eyelashes fanned over his cheeks. His deep pools were probably the only thing you wanted to jump into. 
You bit your lip, giving him a nod of approval. He grinned from ear to ear, backing up to get the momentum to run. “Why were you afraid of the water?” 
Steve looked at the ground. “That story isn’t ready to be told.” 
You had never really talked to Steve like this before. In fact, you never spoke to him alone. You leaned into him, bumping your shoulder into his. “Well, I’ll be here when that time comes.” 
He looked up, a glint in his eyes. “You ready? I’ll tell you when to let go.” 
The two of you ran forward. You shouted in fear as you swung over the edge. Steve then shouted for you to let go and you did. Your screams turned into laughter when you felt the wind kiss your cheeks. You felt like you were flying. 
Steve met the water first and you joined in not long after. When you resurfaced, Steve’s face was the first thing you saw. It was out of instinct. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. Steve’s hands grabbed you by your waist, lifting you up into the air, making you squeal. “Look at her now. Facing her fears.” 
You laughed as he threw you back into the water. You splashed him before swimming back to land. The sudden brave act made your stomach rumble, and you decided to eat one of the sandwiches Robin made. 
Once you got your sandwich, you made yourself comfortable on a blanket right next to Eddie. He still had his jeans on but no shirt. You tried not to focus on his tattoos and many scars on his pale skin. You wondered if the story behind them had to do with the earthquake in Hawkins. If it had to do with Steve afraid of water. You leaned forward to see what book he was reading. 
You hummed, taking a bite out of your sandwich, watching Steve and Robin arguing about Ninja Turtles again. You did a lot of that, watching. 
“So, you ever gonna tell him?” Eddie broke your concentration on a water bug spinning around, making tiny ripples in the creek. 
You swallowed, furrowing your brows. “Hm?” 
Eddie wasn’t looking at you, his eyes still in his book. “You ever gonna tell Stevie boy you like him?”
You guffawed at the remark. “I- I don’t like Steve.” Panic washed over you. You wondered if maybe you were more obvious than you thought. “He’s like totally not my type.”
Eddie snorted. “Yeah. Okay.” 
You opened your mouth, but whatever was going to be said stayed on your tongue because Robin and Steve walked over to the two of you. Robin sat down next to you and laid down with her arms behind her head. “You guys, I’m so ready to get out of here.” 
Robin was going to college in a few months. She rarely brought it up knowing Steve was upset at the idea of his best friend leaving. You smiled, happy for your new friend. “I feel like I still have so much to learn about the place.”
Robin puckered her bottom lip. “Aw babe, it’s okay. At least you’ll still have Steve, and Eddie if he ever gets off house arrest.” 
You glanced over at the freckled boy, noticing a mole on his stomach which was right next to similar scars that Eddie had. Steve kicked the dirt a little, pouting. “Rob, why do you have to be such a buzzkill?” 
Robin had her eyes shut from the glare of the sun, but you could see her roll them beneath her lids. “You act like you don’t have other friends, dingus.” She smirked at a new thought that crossed her mind. “Can’t the girls in town keep you busy while I’m gone?” 
Your stomach knotted, and you felt Eddie look over at you, wiggling his brows. “Harrington has gotten older and wiser. He’s looking for a fair maiden to settle down with.” 
You knew if you reacted, Eddie would figure out you had a crush on Steve. Well, he already knew, but it would only confirm his suspicions. No one could know. 
Robin snorted, “At his rate I’ll graduate before Steve goes steady with anybody.” 
“Must you speak about me like I’m not here?” Steve put his hands on his hips. It was kind of cute when he got irritated, a small wrinkle appeared between his brows. “I’ll have you know I’m going out with Carol on Tuesday.”
Robin’s nose scrunched. “Didn’t you already go out with her? Said her breath smelt like tuna?” 
Steve shook his head. “No, that was Carol Dill, I’m talking about Carol Fists.” 
“Fists? I know what she can fist.” Robin and Eddie burst out laughing as Steve groaned in disgust, saying something about how Robin always ruins things. You pretended to smile at the joke. However, your stomach twisted. You knew Steve dated, but you never took into account the amount of girls he had gone out with.
Robin once told you he had only been in one serious relationship, but it ended badly. You didn’t know her name or what she looked like. A part of you wished you did so you could see what it took to stand out from the pool of girls. Were you that uninteresting? 
Robin and Steve asked if you wanted to join them in one last jump, but you opted out, saying you were tired. They both shrugged and made a bet who could get to the top first. You waited until they were far enough before you brought your knees to your chest, biting your bottom lip. “Is it that obvious?” You didn’t look at Eddie but you directed the question to him. 
It took him a moment to figure out what you meant. “Mm, only if you are one who observes the smallest of details.”
You let out a sigh. “Please don’t tell him.”
Eddie let out a laugh. “Sweetheart, I don’t kiss and tell. He probably wouldn’t believe me, anyway. He never thinks girls out of his league like him.”
There was an involuntary scoff that came out of you. “Don’t bullshit me. I am not out of his league.” You heard Robin scream, arms flailing as she fell off the cliff. Steve was bent over laughing which made you assume he had pushed her. He then ran and jumped off, making you smile as he cackled. 
“If you don’t want people to figure it out, maybe you should stop staring at him with that stupid smile.” You realized if this was the birth of a new friendship, Eddie was going to give you hell. He must be bored being under house arrest and all. 
***
Fourth of July at the Harrington’s was a big deal. The front door was adorned in red, white, and blue streamers. It looked like Uncle Sam had thrown up walking up the steps. 
Robin kept slapping Eddie, who had recently gotten off of house arrest, because he kept trying to unbutton his polo that Steve had let him borrow. It was the only way Steve’s parents would allow him for the festivities. If he looked presentable. 
But even looking presentable did not take his personality, eyeing all the wives and widows that walked past him. 
You on the other hand were secretly sulking because Steve was across the living room, his arm wrapped around the new girl he had been seeing. You think her name was Lacy? You didn’t talk to her too long because it was like talking to a brick wall with breasts. 
Robin scoffed when she heard Lacy laugh, clutching onto Steve. “Dear Lord, he’s really lowering his standards every day.”  
You cracked a smile, hiding it behind your cup of punch, catching Eddie looking at you with a smirk. You prayed he wouldn’t say anything. “I’m pretty sure I heard her ask if Rome existed during the Roman Empire while Mrs. Harrington was showing some painting.” 
You and Robin had to look away from one another, knowing you’d cause a scene if you laughed. It was like word vomit, jealousy had taken over you. “I don’t know what he sees in any of these girls. He’s like attracted to these non-spectacular bimbos just because they have big boobs.” 
You heard Robin whisper your name, and her elbow into your ribs. You laughed when you looked up at your friend but her eyes were full of panic, glancing at something in front of you. 
You turned your gaze to see Steve and Lacy in front of you. Lacy didn’t seem to realize who you were talking about. However, Steve’s jaw ticked. Lacy tried to get closer to him and he reacted by removing his arm from her and walking away. 
“Uh hello? You’re going to leave without saying anything?” She called after him. He didn’t reply as he made his way to the staircase that you knew led up to his bedroom. Lacy huffed, “Whatever.” She crossed her arms and stomped elsewhere. You kind of felt bed for speaking badly about a girl who had no clue about your feelings. But it felt worse knowing you had hurt Steve. 
You looked at your feet, ashamed of what you had said. “Didn’t Steve say his dad had a gun cabinet?” 
Robin smacked your arm. “Not funny.” 
“I thought the clueless look on non-spectacular bimbo was funny.” Eddie’s grin went from ear to ear. You and Robin looked at him with narrowed eyes. He put his hands up in defense. “Too soon?” 
You groaned, turning around, laying your forehead on the wall behind you. “I’m such an idiot.” 
“Jesus Christ. You like him,” Robin proclaimed. 
Eddie laughed. “Wait, you didn’t know?” 
You felt Robin roll her eyes. “She has literally never said or done anything that made me think… ugh this ruins everything. I thought you were different.” 
You snapped your head to face her, brows furrowed. “How does this ruin everything?” You noticed people looking over at you, listening to the commotion. 
“Maybe we should lower our voices,” Eddie mumbled. 
The scoff that Robin made sounded like Are you kidding me? “Girls never want to be my friend unless they want to get closer to him. Then you came along and didn’t immediately start drooling. I thought I had hope.” 
You opened your mouth to defend yourself but you snapped it back shut. Your lips pursed together and you swallowed a large lump down your throat. You didn’t mean to start liking Steve. She was overreacting. “You don’t know anything Robin. And what does it matter? You’re leaving in like three weeks.”
“Not the point,” Robin said through bared teeth. 
Eddie awkwardly steered some bystanders away, convincing them everything was okay. 
You shook your head, laughing in disbelief. “I get it now. This whole time you’ve been jealous.” 
“Excuse me?” Robin was fuming, almost nose to nose. 
“Admit it, you’re in love with Steve and can’t stand that he chooses all these boring girls over you.” 
You must have touched a sore spot that even Eddie was aware of because before Robin could do anything, he stepped between the two of you. He looked at Robin, giving her an assuring look before back at you. Immediately you felt desolate and little. You didn’t belong, because in only one look you knew Eddie was going to back up his friend. “Maybe you should…” he shrugged, motioning to the door. 
You looked between the two of them, Robin faced away from you, but you could see her glassy eyes, brimmed with tears. Your heart sank, wanting to take everything you said in only ten minutes back in your mouth. But you were too stubborn to admit you might have been in the wrong. “Screw you both.” You pivoted, and suddenly the picture of Lacy looked familiar as you stormed out of the Harrington’s house. 
It took you three days to find yourself at the front door of Robin’s house. You knew she would be home because she talked about it a few days ago. She would be packing for her move. When she answered the door, her face was expressionless. You held up a basket of banana muffins, her favorite. You smiled awkwardly. “Can I come in?” 
You could tell by the grip she had on the door that she wanted to slam in your face. Nonetheless, she sighed and opened it wider for you to walk through. “Sorry about the mess. Packing and all.” Her voice was quiet as she led you to her bedroom. Sure enough, clothes, boxes, and other items were scattered all over her bed and floor. “Just got done packing my voodoo doll of Steve,” she joked. 
You winced. One thing about Robin, she wasn’t beating around the bush on any confrontation. “Look, Rob. I didn’t mean what I said. LIke truly. I was the one that was jealous and always have been of your relationship with Steve. You two have all this history and I can’t compete with that.” 
Robin ran her fingers through her hair. “Steve and I have been through a lot of shit… like a lot. But it’s not like that.” 
You couldn’t help but perk up at the last part. 
She continued, “I just don’t understand why you never said anything to me. That you thought you had to keep it a secret.” She plopped down on the ground, her arms hanging off her knees. 
You followed the lead by also sitting on the ground, legs crossed. “I just didn’t want to be like every other girl I guess. I knew it wasn’t going to happen so I never said anything.” 
Robin thought carefully of her next words. “I can’t deny that you were right.” She started to mess with a loose string on her shirt. “I was sort of jealous.” 
Your face softened. “Rob, listen, I can get over him. It’s like a schoolgirl crush.” 
The brunette put her face into her hands and groaned loudly. “No… I didn’t mean I was jealous of you.”
“Of Lacy?” 
Robin bit her lip, looking away from you. Tears started to form at the corner of her eyes and she wiped one with the back of her hand. She sniffled and shook her head. “No.” She faced you again, “I was jealous of Steve.” 
Your brows furrowed. Why was she jealous of him? Your eyes widened. “Oh.” You tried your best not to react extravagantly. It was mostly a reaction of guilt and understanding why Eddie jumped to her defense so quickly. You swallowed something hard. Your cheeks started to heat up. “So the person you like…” 
Robin let out a breathy laugh, wiping her nose. “Not like where it consumes me but I can’t deny the idea crosses my mind once in a while.” 
You couldn’t help but leap and hug her. “Rob, I value your friendship so much. Thank you for being so vulnerable.” 
“I guess we both are good at keeping secrets, huh?” Robin asked once you broke apart. 
You smiled. “Eddie too. He figured it out the first day I met him.” 
She burst out laughing. “He figured out I’m a lesbian in like two days. For a man who won’t ever shut up he somehow sees things we don’t in a matter of minutes.” 
There was a beat. 
“Have you spoken to Steve?” You looked away shyly. 
Robin smirked, rolling her eyes playfully. “He’s fine. You just hurt his ego a little bit. I think he misses you.” 
You blew a raspberry. “Whatever.”
“Why do you think I was jealous? He definitely likes you and that moment I found out you liked him too, I knew it would be a matter of time.” Robin no longer looked sad, in fact she looked ecstatic. She blushed. “I think I only had feelings because you were the first girl who didn’t express feelings for him. That wasn’t fair to you. I’m sorry.” 
Your mind had so many things to address. “No, I’m sorry for not being truthful. There were many reasons I never said anything. Number one being I valued our friendship more than anything.” 
Robin reached over, placing her hand on your knee. “I don’t want to be the middleman. I’ve done that for him for almost two years. All I will say, he dates these uninteresting bimbos because he thinks those are the only girls who will ever like him. You should talk to him.”
You left Robin’s house two hours later. You both spent time packing, laughing about the summer, and telling her when you started having feelings for Steve. You both also cried because Robin was leaving. You had to convince her out of staying that college was meant for her. 
The next day Robin asked you to go bowling. What she didn’t care to mention was that Steve and Eddie would be there. However it didn’t surprise you. You were tempted with running out the door, however; but Robin grabbed your arm quickly as if she knew your plan and walked you to the lane. 
Eddie was facing you both, a childlike grin plastered on his face. 
“Well well well. Isn’t it the two fighting pussycats?” Eddie stuck his tongue out of the corner of his mouth. 
You could only see the back of Steve’s head. He had chosen to wear a baseball cap to hide his hair. He didn’t turn around, but he peeked over his shoulder, quickly averting his gaze to the ground as he put on his bowling shoes. 
Robin walked up to Eddie, smacking him on the back of his head. “That was a gross comment, Munson.”
He rubbed the spot she had just hit. “Geez. Twas just a joke.” He then looked up at her, grinning. “I could’ve said it was kind of hot. But did I?”
Robin thumped his forehead this time. 
“You make me want to scream sometimes.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. 
“That’s funny, your mom said the same thing to me last night.” Eddie and Steve burst out laughing. Robin looked like she wanted to strangle Eddie. Yet, she didn’t react. She plopped in the seat next to him and put her shoes on. 
You followed by sitting next to Steve, avoiding any type of eye contact. You noticed Eddie and Robin giving one another look. The awkwardness between you and Steve was too suffocating not to notice. 
Your mind raced if he knew your feelings or did Robin and Eddie not say anything? Robin did say she wasn’t meddling but nosey is Eddie’s middle name. 
You opened your mouth to say something, anything, to Steve, but he had already gone up to enter names and take his turn. You looked at your hands, defeated. 
And so it was like a tug-of-war. When Steve talked, he only spoke to Robin and Eddie. He wasn’t excluding you on purpose but whenever he spoke he never looked at you. Whenever you tried to enter the conversation or talked he’d act uninterested. 
You even tried to flirt, going up to him personally and saying what a good bowler he was and if he could give you any tips. He glanced over at the scoreboard, noticing you were in second place. “M’think you have the hang of it.” 
You could hear Eddie wince audibly for you. You shit daggers his way before turning around and rolling the ball down your lane. This bowling alley was not on your side because you somehow made a strike. 
“Good job! I guess the trick is to make you pissed off.” Eddie laughed at his own comment. Robin elbowed him in his side, whispering that now was not the time. 
“I’m not pissed off,” you defended, feeling your cheats heat up with embarrassment. “I’m fine, perfectly fine!” 
Steve still was not looking at you, rather the ground.
You stormed up to him. “Are you just going to ignore me the whole night? You won’t give me a chance to even apologize because you’re acting like a child.” 
He didn’t flinch. 
You threw your hands up. “I’m so sorry I hurt your feelings the other day. I can own up that I shouldn’t have said it. But dude, it freaking sucks when I see you wasting your time on people who don’t care about you.” You regretted speaking up now, mostly because of other people looking over in your direction. You pursed your lips, trying not to cry. “Thanks for inviting me, Rob, but I think it’s time for me to go.” You stopped her and Eddie before they tried to argue. 
You walked out of the building and sat in your car processing everything. Robin was moving away and now you had lost one of the only friends you had in this stupid town. 
***
You contemplated knocking on the front door to the Harrington household for nearly fifteen minutes before committing. You let out a sigh of relief when it had been Robin who answered the door. Almost immediately you wrapped your arms around her. 
“Hey, no crying. I told you that yesterday.” Her hug didn’t reflect her words as she pulled you in tighter. “Thank you for coming.” 
She knew you almost didn’t. 
Everyone was in Steve’s backyard, Robin told you, explaining that was the only way his parents allowed Robin’s going away party to happen if all the activities were not in the house. She even made a joke that his mom probably didn’t want them using the bathrooms. 
You felt nervous when you heard all the voices walking to the backyard. You didn’t recognize anyone. It didn’t seem to phase anyone when you appeared with Robin. Eddie was lounging on a chair, talking to a dark-haired scrawny boy. He called out your name, greeting you. It brought the attention of others, including Steve. 
He was in the pool, laughing with a girl you thought looked familiar but had no idea who she was. She was petite and shiny brown hair. This was the first time in weeks you had seen him, and he had actually acknowledged your presence. He smiled half-heartedly and gave you a small wave. 
Robin grabbed your hand, dragging you towards the pair. “Rob, I don’t think–” 
“Nance! I want you to finally meet who I’ve been telling you about.” Robin laid her arm on top of your shoulders. 
Nance smiled. It was warm and inviting. “Steve said you were pretty.” 
You peered at Steve who had begun to submerge himself into the water, his face still poking out. “It’s nice to meet you Nance.” 
She chuckled. “Actually, it’s Nancy. Nancy Wheeler.” 
You smiled at her. You normally found it hard to talk to new people, but she somehow seemed to make everyone around her comfortable. “How do you know Robin and Steve?” 
Everyone gave each other a look, silently saying something that you didn’t understand. It was the same look Eddie would also give them whenever you asked a too personal question that no one knew how to answer. It was like they all were hiding something. 
“We were close when the earthquake hit.” Nancy answered, smiling warmly. You felt not everything was being said but it didn’t matter. You knew you could trust there was a reason they didn’t say. 
The afternoon consisted of conversations with all of Steve and Robin’s friends. Most of them were in college or had moved off. Your favorite was a curly haired boy named Dustin who seemed to have a special connection with Steve. It was like they were complete opposites but also shared the same mind. 
Steve had spoken little to you, but it was a step up from ignoring you. It hurt knowing that you two were no longer friends. Yet, you accepted it. Even when you had gone to grab a drink out of the cooler outside, and Steve’s hand touched yours when he went to grab it at the same time. Or when you had found yourself sitting next to him, his shoulder still damp from pool water, brushing your bare arm. You swore when he laughed he leaned into you. 
It wasn’t until you had gone inside to use the restroom, finding yourself in one of the hallways looking at all the pictures on the wall. They consisted of wedding photos of his parents, family portraits, and a lot of pictures of Steve. That’s when you caught the picture of Steve and Nancy on the wall. Your heart plummeted a little as you realized why you recognized her. Granted, it was only from what you assumed to be their prom, but she must be the girl Robin had talked about. 
“That seems so long ago.” You jumped at the voice that came from behind you. Your shoulders relaxed when you peered behind your shoulder to see it was Steve. “Sorry,” he mumbled. 
“No, it’s okay. I didn’t know you were there, that’s all.” You looked away from him, still embarrassed from everything that had been going on these past few weeks. You had made your apologies, and although you felt like he should apologize too, you just wanted your friend back. 
He stepped forward so he’d be shoulder to shoulder with you, but he didn’t say anything. At first. “Isn’t it weird we think we meet everyone we’re gonna meet when we’re young?” 
You looked back at the prom picture. “I wouldn’t have wanted you to meet me in high school.” 
He laughed. “I wouldn’t want you to meet me either. I was a true asshole.”
“What changed? A girl?” You motioned to the picture on the wall. 
Steve took a moment. You could tell he was thinking about what he would say next. “No. I was still a pretty big asshole. It was more of the break-up part that I decided I needed to grow up.” He looked down at you, but you avoided eye contact. “I guess I’m still not doing a great job.” 
Your face softened, finally catching his gaze. “You are. We all have moments when we're assholes.” 
“Yeah, but I never apologized for giving you the cold shoulder. After hearing what you said I had a lot of… self-evaluation.” Steve licked his lips. “I haven’t gone on a date in weeks.” 
You took a second to process. “How is that going?” 
He smiled, nodding his head. “It’s been good. I guess I was a serial dater because I was afraid of being alone.” His shoulder brushed yours. “I think I took my friendships for granted.” 
The warmth of his hand made your stomach flip. You needed to tell him. “Steve.” Your tongue felt dry. 
“Thank you for being patient with me. It’s nice knowing that even though Robin won’t be here I’ll still have a good friend around.” He patted you on the shoulder. You tried not to feel the disappointment in you. Of course he only saw you as a friend. 
Did you need to say something? Maybe you could grab him by the shoulders and kiss him. You didn’t, praying it would go away in due time. 
***
You understood why Robin was relieved when she had made a girl friend. Between the burps and jokes you started to miss her more and more. What was worse, you realized you were spending a lot more time with Steve. You began to notice he was getting older and stronger. The shirts he wore started to hug him. Mostly because he started going on runs again. He had told you and Eddie anytime he felt lonely, he’d just put on his sneakers and sprint out the door. He must have been running a lot. 
School had technically started in Hawkins. You felt lame because you didn’t apply to the community college like you said you would. Work at the museum was boring. However, you found yourself at Steve’s house trying to get in as much swimming before it got cold. Steve didn’t seem to mind. 
There was one particular day you, Eddie, and Steve were meant to go to the pond you had gone too with Robin. However, when you got to Steve’s house so he could drive, a downpour of rain began. You sat on his couch while he was on the phone with Eddie, saying that the three of you could go next weekend. Your eyes followed him as he walked over, plopping right next to you. He smelt like a mix between coconuts and bourbon. He put his arms behind his head, his bicep flexing. 
Your crush had definitely not gotten any better. “I guess I’ll head back home then.” 
Steve furrowed his brows. “What? Are you crazy it’s like a tropical storm out there” 
You kicked his leg. “I’m not defenseless, you know? I know how to drive.” 
“Defenseless, no. A good driver? Not according to those curbs you hit.” Steve’s eyes were closed, but his mouth broke out into the biggest smile. 
 When he had made that comment you had poked him. He poked you back. You returned by poking a sensitive spot under his armpit. He was then on top of you, tickling your ribs, making you cry of laughter. 
You both cooled down, the heat from his body more noticeable when you noticed how close his face was to yours. He hadn’t shaved in a few days, his rough stubbles poking around his face. You couldn’t help drag your finger across his jaw to feel them. You were unsure how it happened. Who kissed who first was the dilemma going through your mind as your lips melted together. 
He supported himself by having one hand by your head, the other hand cupping your face. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. Your fingers played with his hair. He hated people touching it, but good friends don’t kiss one another. 
Your eyes shot wide. Steve made a grunt as you pushed him off of you, standing up quickly, feeling a little light headed from the blood rushing through you. Steve sat up on the couch, lips red and swollen. His hair disheveled. You saw him run his tongue behind his bottom lip. 
You held yourself, feeling so vulnerable. “I think the rain let up. Safe to drive.” Your voice was weak. 
His jaw ticked. “Oh.” As if on cue a roar of thunder shook his house, the windows lit up from a lightning bolt. He gave you a look that he didn’t need to say anything for you to understand. He didn’t want you to go, but he knew you weren’t going to stay. 
You walked out of the living room and to the front door. Your hand was on the door knob, ready to open it and run out. There was an urge to turn around and so you did. Steve had followed you to the entryway. 
“Why do you tell your friends that I’m pretty?” You asked him. 
Steve’s chest expanded and fell back to normal. “What do you want me to say?”
You raised your hands into the air. Your voice rose. “It’s not a complicated question, Steve. Why do you tell all these people that I’m pretty?” 
Steve’s tone matched yours. “Because you are?” He said it so simply. Like it was easy. 
Your arms fell to your sides. “Then why have you never told me?”
Steve was taken aback. The silence between you was full of palpable tension. “Haven’t I?” 
You scoffed. “No, Steve. You haven’t.” 
He swallowed hard, looking off to the side. 
“Listen, we don’t have to talk about this. I know you’re lonely since you haven’t been going on dates and we just got caught up in the moment. It’s fine really.” You were looking at your feet, your shoelaces loose, dragging on the floor. You thought about how last week they did the same thing and Steve had kneeled down and tied them for you. 
He said your name but he didn’t move to stop you as you bolted out the door. 
The next weekend you debated telling Eddie you were sick when he had called to ask if you were still down to go to the pond with him and Steve. If Eddie knew about the kiss, he didn’t say anything. 
Steve must have begged to pick up Eddie first or they were already together when they came and picked you up. You sat in the back of the car, arms crossed, staring purposefully at the rearview mirror. Eddie kept going on and on about how everyone from his old band, Corroded Coffin, had either left town or started a family. Eddie told you about after the earthquake he had lost everything, including his most prized possession— his guitar. 
When you arrived at the pond there was an awkward silence as everyone carried blankets and the ice chest to a spot that seemed suitable to sit on. Fortunately, the ground was dry from the few days of rain Hawkins had received over the past week. You could see trees beginning to brown, and wildflowers wilting, telling you that summer was slipping away. 
You looked over at Steve arguing with Eddie about forgetting to pack sandwiches. He had gone ahead and taken off his shirt. His muscles poked out and the hair on his chest was dark and unruly. Steve walked away from Eddie, mumbling that Robin never forgot to bring food. He caught you in the act of watching him, his face turning red. 
This was ridiculous. You spent weeks being mad that he was avoiding you. “You wanna race to the top?” 
Steve looked over at the hill where you could see the tan rope swaying side to side. He smirked. “I’ll give you a head start.” 
You didn’t take a beat to think before you pivoted and started to sprint towards the hill. It didn’t take long for Steve to catch up with you. He was going easy, keeping a steady pace slightly in front of you. You might have gone slower because you were distracted by how his butt looked in his swim trunks. 
You both climbed the hill, giggling as you almost slipped. His hand on the small of your back to hold you steady. You suddenly cried out, looking at your hand. Steve immediately went into action, eyes wide with concern. “What happened?” 
He adjusted himself to look at the problem. You went to show him your hand, but then you stuck your tongue out and quickly climbed faster to reach the top. Steve called out your name, calling you a cheater as you pulled yourself to the top of the hill. You laid on your back, catching your breath, laughing once you saw Steve dragging himself on the top. “That was not fair.”  He was on his arms and knees laughing almost as hard as you. 
It wasn’t even that funny but it felt nice to just laugh. With Steve. You sat up, your face hurt from smiling so hard. Steve’s eyes softened. They were hazy and he looked stupidly drunk. You nudged him. “Why are you looking at me like that?” 
He blinked a few times. He sat up, taking his finger and brushing your cheek. “I couldn’t help but think how pretty you are when the sun shines on you.”  
Your heart raced. Your words were struggling to form. You looked over at the pond, glistening underneath the sun. “I like you Steve but I can’t just be a fling to you.” 
He looked sad. You heard your name said under his breath. “I like you so much. All this time I didn’t know what I wanted and when I met you it just got harder to click with anyone or feel the way I do about you. It was hard to avoid those feelings. I never said anything because Robin was so happy to have a girl as a friend and I couldn’t ruin that for her.”
Your cheeks were hot and you covered your face with your knees. You weren’t sure how to react hearing the boy you’ve had a crush on likes you back. The end of summer breeze kissed your nose. 
His tanned skin was starting to fade, but you could still see all his freckles covering his shoulders. You leaned forward, placing your lips softly on his shoulder blade. 
“Have you been to Enzo’s yet?” Steve leaned his forehead on yours, a cheesy smile painted on his face. 
You messed with a loose string hanging off your swimsuit bottoms. You were almost too afraid to look him in the eyes. “Are you asking me on a date?” You had never been there. Someone told you it used to be the only nice restaurant before the earthquake. Most of the new residents didn’t go, leaving it to be a sacred place for the natives of Hawkins. 
“Didn’t I just confess I like you?” Steve chuckled and you could feel the vibrations from how close he was to you. 
You ducked your head, feeling flustered. “It’s intimidating to know I’m not the only person you’ve taken out on a date.” 
Steve was silent for a moment, hopefully thinking carefully over a valid concern. He placed his hand on yours, trailing his fingers over yours. He then used the same hand to lift your chin up. “I don’t take just anyone to Enzo’s.” 
Your heart fluttered. He was smooth. You tried to say something that Eddie was probably concerned the two of you had died or got lost. Steve disregarded it because his lips found yours. 
It was soft and slow. It felt just as nice as the first time you kissed. Except now, you knew how he felt. You felt kaleidoscopic. It was overwhelming and sexy. 
You hoped it would always feel like this. That anytime you felt the last moments of summer, you always remembered the beginning of a new season you had never felt before.
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12 from the clumsily list please babe?!
12. Becoming their partner’s physical first aid kit. they carrying everything now, alcohol swabs, band aids, adhesive tape, elastic bandages, everything.
“Steve.”
Steve knew that tone and his head swivelled instantly, searching for whatever direction you’d be coming from. He found you to his left, his hands dropping the record sleeve Eddie had been showing him onto the sofa, just in time for you to drape yourself over his shoulder.
“What’ve you done?” He asked suspiciously, his hands catching yours so he could inspect your palms, your fingers. There was no blood, no cuts. “What d’you do?”
Eddie snorted when you huffed and he tutted as Steve continued to inspect your arms. “She’s not made of glass dude, leave her alone—”
His sentence was cut off when Steve tugged you forward and onto his lap, the gash on your knee bleeding ruby on show, a trail of red running down your shin and dangerously close to your white sneakers.
Eddie grimaced, perplexed. “What the fuck, dude?”
Steve made a noise of triumph and you had the audacity to look both sheepish and bothered by his win, your arms crossed as you leaned back into the sofa. “Turns out, I can’t skateboard anymore.”
Steve really did laugh then, already fishing in his front pocket and he pulled out some change, one of your hair ties and a few bandaids. He undid the backing with his teeth, his hands busy swiping the drying blood from your leg, frowning when you hissed in pain, murmuring his apologies with a soft hush. His touch was soothing, a pain relief like no other, gentle and kind and tenderly careful.
You weren’t made of glass, no, despite the way you seemed to break so easily. But Steve, treated you like spun sugar, like something finer and more precious than anything else.
“Baby, I dunno if you were ever able to skateboard at all,” he reminded you gently. “Thought we swore off things w’wheels, huh?”
You grumbled in response, no words, just morose agreement. You had agreed to those terms, especially after the roller skating incident with Dustin and the three day stint you had as the florists delivery service.
Bikes weren’t your thing either.
But Steve was gently placing a bright orange bandaid over your wound, tiny dinosaurs staring back. You hummed when Steve ran gentle fingertips over it, making sure it was stuck to your skin properly. “You’re gonna have to clean yourself up,” Steve was murmuring, almost forgetting Eddie was still beside him. “You’re gonna get blood everywhere, babe.”
“I will,” you replied just as softly. “Thanks, handsome.”
And then like every other time, you leaned in, waiting. Steve was all pink affection, fondness in his eyes and a blush on his cheeks as Eddie held back a laugh, but he kissed your cheek regardless, chasing the corner of your mouth just as you pulled away, grinning.
“My hero,” you cooed, only to make him pinker still, his cheeks rosy as he glared at you, leaving him for Eddie to make fun of.
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whisperingtales · 2 days
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I'm having thoughts....of fuckboy!eddie meeting his match, and of Eddie with a southern!femreader. Stay tuned, my little whispers.
Until then, send me your Eddie's thoughts. What's your favorite version of our boy, Eddie? Is it bestfriend!eddie? Maybe badboy!eddie with a soft side reserved only for you. Let's discuss and give me inspiration like I don't have 10 plus ideas sitting in my drafts!!
You know what, fuck it send in some Steve Harrington or any character thoughts.
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lizzie-boo · 2 days
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Steve: Always the sitter, never the baby.
Y/N: Aww baby, come here and I'll sit on you.
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steve playing it off when he walks into the counter and catches his hip, when he trips over a chair leg, when he drops his keys because he can't stop spinning them around his finger until he meets you, because the second he walks into the edge of the table for the third time that day you're asking him if he's okay, you lift his shirt and run your hands over his skin, making sure he won't bruise, you put every chair back so he doesn't have to worry, his hand eye coordination isn't the best so tucking chairs away to keep him from tripping is nothing to you, you tell him how cute he looks when he spins his keys, how sweet the little run to his car is so he can open your door for you, you make not only better for him but you make him feel okay for being a little clumsy at times, in fact he really doesn't mind catching his hand in the door because now he has you to kiss it better <3
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Cherry.
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Synopsis - The lines of friendship get a little blurry, one unassuming Friday night in December.
Pairing - Bestfriend!Steve Harrington x Female Reader
Warnings - smut. cursing. steve's got an ego, but for good reason.
Age Rating - 18+
Word Count - 2k
Author's Note - hi lovelies!! my first steve fic!! listen, I actually really didn't enjoy stranger things, but... I love this man. he's charming and he's a softie and he's such a good character to write. hope you enjoy this - it's got me all warm and fuzzy. please feel free to send me a christmas request if you fancy, I'm in the mood to write some seasonal fics. much love, always!! <3
as always, reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics!! please, if you enjoyed, consider reblogging this so it gets further reach. comments and feedback are always appreciated!! thanks, angels. <3
Part Two. Masterlist. Inbox. The Moodboard. Series Masterlist.
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Three rocks ping off the panes of your bedroom window in quick succession.
You're applying your moisturiser in the mirror, winding down and almost ready for bed. Your reflection is illuminated by a faint glow from the fairy lights you've draped over the headboard for the festive season, warm and comforting. A soft, jazzy melody is drifting from the radio softly, a welcome noise to break up the silence.
Another rock hits your window.
You fly out of your seat and towards the source of the trouble, worried that he's going to throw one too hard one of these days.
"Steve," you hiss as you yank it open. "Cut it out. Just come through the door."
"Where's the fun in that?" he chuckles, eyes rife with mischief.
You roll your eyes but step back anyway, making room for him to climb the tree and dive through the window into your room.
"Hi, sugar."
"Hi, Steven."
He grins at you, bright and awake despite the late hour.
"Don't you have better plans on a Friday night, King Steve?"
"And miss out on seeing you in your little pink pyjamas? Absolutely not."
You shove at his chest, smacking him upside the head for good measure. He feigns pain and wraps his arms around your middle, picking you up off the ground and spinning you in circles. You shriek, and the sound makes him laugh.
"Okay, okay! I'm dizzy! Put me down!"
He obliges by throwing you unceremoniously onto your bed, smirking when you almost bounce off it.
"So," he begins, sitting down across from you. "How was it? Do you feel like a whole new woman?"
You scoff.
"What? That bad?"
"Yeah, that bad. We didn't even do it."
He quirks a brow in curiosity, tilting his head to look at you.
"I thought tonight was the big night?"
"Yeah, it was supposed to be. But he was kissing me, and it just didn't feel... right? He started grabbing at me and I realised that you can only lose your virginity once - and that definitely wasn't how I wanted to lose mine."
You shrug, trying to play indifference, but Steve can see the hurt in your eyes.
"You always deserved so much better than him."
"Thanks, Steve."
"Come on, Cherry. The guy is an asshole who happens to be attractive. His face is the only thing he's got going for him."
The mention of your childhood nickname has memories of fruit flavoured popsicles on summer days flooding back. Laughter by the pool, pushing Steve in and screeching when he dragged you with him, staying out in the sun until you were both exhausted. Cherry. You've always been Steve's Cherry, for as long as you can remember. You still wear the lip balm he bought you last year, fitting for your moniker.
"You didn't like him from the start. Actually, you've never liked any guy that has ever liked me."
"Because they're not good enough for you."
"Says who?"
"Says me."
"And you're the boss of me and my love life now?"
"I'm the person that knows you better than anyone in the entire world. I think I have a pretty good view on things."
You huff, but accept your defeat in knowing that he's right. No one knows you like him. Steve always does this. He pisses you off, but makes you love him a tiny bit more each time.
He grabs your foot from the bed, pressing his thumbs into your sole. You relax instantly, tired of half arguing with him.
"I give up."
"With what?"
"Dating. Fuck it."
He chuckles, rubbing soothing patterns into your ankle gently.
"You've barely even started."
"Ooo, sorry Mr Womaniser."
"Stop it," he chides, pinching your calf. "Maybe The One for you just isn't in Hawkins. This place has always been too small for us anyway."
"Yeah, maybe. It'll all change when we go to college, hopefully."
"Exactly. It'll be a whole different ball game. There'll be tonnes of hot guys begging for your attention."
"And you'll be fighting them off."
"Yes I will."
You laugh, poking him in the chest with your foot teasingly.
"And maybe the college guys will actually know what they're doing in bed."
"Hey, some of us do know!"
"Yeah yeah, Steve's good in bed. I've heard it all before."
"Don't be jealous, Cherry baby."
"Jealous isn't quite the word I'd use."
"No?"
He drops your foot and scoots closer, settling in between your parted legs.
"You're not even a little bit curious what all the rumours are about?"
"Steve," you laugh. "I think they're probably just exactly that. Rumours."
He inches in towards you, so his forehead is almost touching yours. Running his fingers up and down the outside of your thigh, he takes a deep breath in.
"You should let me show you just how much I know. We're not all clueless, Cherry. I'm confident I could make you feel good."
You exhale with a shudder.
"I'm not letting you take my virginity, Steve."
"I don't want to. There's a thousand ways I can make your legs shake without fucking you, baby."
You stare into his big doe eyes, admiring the way a single strand of hair has fallen across his forehead. You look for a shred of doubt, or amusement, but all you see is love. Admiration. Trust. Sincerity.
"Okay," you breathe, before your mind has truly processed what you're saying. "Show me what you got, Harrington."
He grins, slow and saccharine, like the cat who got the cream.
"Steve?" you whisper.
"Yeah?"
"This isn't going to fuck things up between us, is it?"
He smiles, big and bright.
"Never. Nothing is ever going to fuck things up between us. It's you and me forever, Cherry Pie."
You chuckle at the nickname, stroking his cheek with your thumb.
"Well, then what are you waiting for?"
He shakes his head and grabs your ankle, pulling you across the bed and into his body. Wrapping a hand around the back of your neck, he leans in, pressing his forehead to yours.
"If at any point this gets weird, or you don't like it... Just say the words, okay?"
"Okay," you breathe, inhaling the scent of mint from his tongue. "Promise."
"Can I kiss you?"
"You don't usually ask," you tease.
It's no secret that you and Steve have kissed a few times. Once after prom, once at a party here and there, once when you were cuddled in bed comforting him after a break up. But it's never led to anything more. Which is probably why this feels a little different.
"I know, but this is a little more... intense, than usual."
You try to ignore the way your heart swells at his consideration for you, and nod your head gently.
"Kiss me. Please."
Steve wastes no time, leaning in to press his lips to yours. He tastes like spearmint and soda, with a hint of the cherry lipbalm he steals from your nightstand. You instinctively shuffle closer to him, straddling his lap as his arms bracket themselves around you. It's like he can't decide where to put his hands - they're roaming up your back, squeezing your ass, kneading your thighs. He's antsy and impatient, eager to feel you.
"Lie back," he whispers against your mouth, tipping you onto the bed.
Your head hits your pillows and you crane your neck to watch him as he crawls down your body, eyes never leaving yours.
"Steve-"
"Stop thinking so hard, Cherry. I can practically hear your thoughts."
You huff but can't keep the smile off your face, willing your mind to stop racing.
"Let me quiet things down, hmm?"
Steve presses a gentle kiss to the inside of your knee, trailing up and up until he reaches your hip. He licks across your hipbone before nipping it with his teeth, smirking when you gasp.
Grasping the waistband of your pyjama shorts, he asks for permission with his eyes, no words needed. You nod and lift your hips, letting him slide them down your body.
You've never been so exposed, which is causing a sudden realisation that the two of you are crossing a line that can never be uncrossed. As if he can read your mind, Steve presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh, tender and full of love.
"Babe, if you want to stop..."
"I don't, I promise. I'm just nervous. I'm sorry."
"Don't apologise," he murmurs, resting his head on your thigh and looking up at you. "Never apologise. You're doing so good, Cherry. I love you."
You didn't know what you were expecting, but it wasn't I love you. You've both said it to each other a million times, but something about saying it in this exact moment makes it feel... weighted. You'll talk about it later. You'll make sure of it.
"I love you too. So much."
You're whispering, scared to ruin the peace you've created. Steve kisses your skin again gently, gazing at you like you've hung the stars just for him.
"Let me make you feel good, okay?"
When you nod, Steve nudges your core with his nose, arms wrapping around your thighs to keep you anchored in place.
"So pretty," he's mumbling. "Prettiest fuckin' girl I've ever seen."
He starts slow, easing you in carefully. Kitten licks and gentle nips, testing the waters. When you tangle a hand into his hair and tug, Steve gets the message.
"You want more, pretty baby?"
"Yes," you confirm, more breathless than intended. "Please."
He dives back in, this time with more intention. His nose keeps nudging your clit, the friction licking up your spine deliciously. It's like he can't get enough, eating you out like a man starved.
He groans into your heat, the vibrations making you whine. When he curls his tongue just right, you keen, the sounds leaving your mouth foreign to the both of you.
"Fuck, you sound so beautiful. You're perfect. God, you're perfect."
"Stevie," you pant. "So close."
"I got you. Atta girl, I got you. That's my girl, give it to me."
Maybe it's the my girl, or maybe it's the way he's slipped two fingers into you, but the coil snaps. Your back arches off the bed as white heat engulfs your body, vision going black for a moment. You can hear him talking you through it, loving and encouraging. Eventually, your grip on his hair loosens as you go lax, collapsing back against the comforter.
Steve grins at you as he licks his fingers clean, crawling up your body to kiss you. You groan when you taste yourself, arms wrapping around his shoulders to keep him close. Resting his head on your chest, you run your fingers through his hair, humming gently when he relaxes.
"You okay?"
"Never better," you laugh. "You're good with your mouth, Harrington. I'll give you that."
"Told you the rumours were true."
You shake your head and reach over, grabbing the glass of water from your nightstand and taking a sip. You offer it to Steve without a second thought, rolling your eyes when he downs the rest.
He plucks your cherry lipbalm from the drawer and applies it to himself, before leaning up to carefully do the same to you. He pecks your lips sweetly before returning it to its rightful place.
"You replace it, don't you?"
"Hmm?"
"The chapstick. I've had it for a whole year, and I've never even come close to reaching the end."
He blushes as he looks at you, suddenly bashful.
"It's special," he murmurs. "It's our thing, you know? And it smells good. I like knowing that I'm the only one who knows you taste like cherries."
You want to poke fun at him, say something to make him laugh. But you can't. He's rendered you speechless, for the second time in one night.
"I like knowing the reason you taste like spearmint is because I've been slipping pieces of gum into the pockets of your jeans for ten years."
"I knew it," he laughs, leaning up to kiss you firmly. "I can't tell you the last time I bought gum."
"You're welcome."
Steve shucks off his jeans and his shirt, climbing into your bed with just his boxers on. You slip your underwear up your legs before getting under the comforter with him, tangling your limbs with his.
The tunes from the radio still hum gently as the fairy lights flicker.
The room is unchanged.
The people in it are not.
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read Part Two here !!
@lillian-gallows @bookish-embroidery-witch @sweetdazequeen @fruityforcocoapuffs @steviespookie @livsters @diffrent-spokes @violet2022 @mrsjoequinn @valerievortex @chrrymunson
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