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We need to have his babies now.

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter fourteen ⭐︎ Somewhere in these eyes, I'm on your side.

Warnings: fluff, lots and lots fluff, just a teeny tiny bit of angst, just a bunch of tooth rooting sweetness

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: On a rainy Thursday, something shifts between you and Steve, something you can not see yet, while Steve gets lost in a glimpse of the future he could feel on this day.

Word count: 9k+

Author's note: @hellfire--cult thank you for helping me as always, roe. especially with the last bit, you're the bestest ♡ Steve's shower scene was fully written by her so give her some loveeee

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter

♡

The rain paddles against your windows softly, the sun is hidden behind the heavy dark clouds, and the light wind rustles the trees outside. You didn’t close the blinds last night, but it doesn’t matter anyways, it’s dark and gloomy outside.

The soft covers touch your bare skin, the smell of cologne is heavy in the air, along with the smell of sex that still lingers after the previous night.

The weight of his arm keeps you in place, keeps you close, he is making your heart flutter in this early morning hour already.

He is facing you, just as you are facing him. His palm rests on your lower back, his legs tangled with yours underneath the sheets. He pulls you closer when you try to move, tightening his hold on you, but he is still so fast asleep. His lashes look so much longer when his eyes are closed, his features are completely relaxed, he is breathing softly, his heart beats against your palm as you keep your hand close to it.

You eye the moles on his skin and the scars on his body.

Your hands always itch to touch him, to graze his skin with the tips of your fingers, and you can do so when he’s fast asleep and unaware of your loving touches.

You raise your hand up to his face, pushing away the curl that hangs loosely over his forehead. Your touch is light as a feather as you trace the bridge of his nose, and his cheek, before you return your hand back to his chest, freezing when a sigh falls from his lips and he stirs in his sleep, pulling you tighter against him in the process before he sinks deeper into the pillows, eyes still shut and heart still beating softly.

You breathe out and relax when he continues sleeping deeply.

You don’t want to get caught admiring him, and touching him like this, when only a few days ago, you feared that you would lose him after Eddie confronted you both.

You cried yourself to sleep that night.

His words cut deep, and the fear of losing him added to the hurt. You weren’t ready to lose this, you weren’t ready to lose him, and you thought that you were so very close to it until he showed up the next morning, and asked if things would stay the same between you and him now that someone found out.

The weight that stayed on your shoulders nearly crushed you, but he took it off you, and without realizing that he did, he took some of your worries too, just not the pain, and the mark he left on your heart with a few simple words. But it didn’t matter, because kissing him and feeling his touch again, was all that mattered, to know that it wasn’t over just yet… that mattered.

You can hide the sadness and the pain when he holds you like this, you can even forget about it… momentarily.

You forgot about it last night, when he kissed your neck and he marked your skin, when he unraveled you with his tongue and the touch of his hands, when he split you open and kissed you like you were his, when he looked into your eyes and he held your wrist as the tips of his fingers touched your palm, like he wanted to entwine them with yours and feel you closer and closer as you were chest to chest and his lips moved with yours like none have ever did before.

Shivers run down your spine, and butterflies dance in your stomach when the sound of his voice calling out your name echoes in your mind.

You might not be the one for him. And you know that there might be others, but you don’t even want to let your mind go there, just the mere thought of it, fills you with nausea. He keeps coming back to you, that’s what matters the most to you. You know that you can give him so much more than anyone else ever could. If only he let you. If only there was a chance.

You nearly jump from the bed when the ringing of the doorbell pulls you out of your thoughts, and it echoes through the quiet house.

Your eyes widen, and your heart starts pounding as panic settles deep in your chest. You stare at Steve, who is peacefully asleep, still.

You flinch at the second ringing.

“Fuck,” you whisper when you remember the burgundy car in your driveway. There is no reason for Steve to be at your place so early in the morning. There is no believable explanation either, what will you say to whoever it is on the other side of the door?

If this is one of your friends, you are screwed, so screwed.

You know, as a matter of fact, that it isn’t Eddie – he wouldn’t show up this early unless it was an emergency, and even then, he’d be in your room by now.

“Steve,” you whisper, trying to shake him awake, but he only grumbles in his sleep and hides his face further into the pillows.

You sigh.

You push his arm off and escape his embrace. You throw the covers off, and jump up from your bed, standing in only your underwear for a moment as you search for your clothes, you reach for his shirt instead and throw it on, before you rush out of the room, trying to fix your messy hair as you run down the stairs.

You don’t have much time to come up with lies and excuses as to why Steve’s car is in your driveway, whoever it is on the other side of the door, is getting a little impatient.

“I’m coming,” you grumble and unlock the front door before you rip it open, holding your breath.

“Finally!”

You sigh out in relief, rolling your eyes at your own panic. You step aside and open the door a little wider.

“What took you so long?” Your sister murmurs as she steps inside and brushes past you. She is carrying a bag in one hand and the bright pink baby carrier your baby niece is currently sleeping in.

All your annoyance leaves your body right this second, your eyes soften and a smile appears on your face.

“Hello to you too, Twinkie.”

She rolls her eyes at your nickname but pulls you in for a side hug after dropping the bag on the ground.

“Give me her,” you smile as you take the carrier from her arm, and carry it into the living room, smiling as you eye the little features of the baby girl. You put the carrier down on the couch. “Hi Francine,” you whisper, gently tapping her tiny nose. “She’s so big already!”

Your sister laughs as she follows you into the living room after kicking off her shoes, “you’ve seen her last week, I don’t think she grew much.”

“She kind of did,” you whisper, taking Francine’s tiny hand. “They grow so fast.”

Your sister walks over to the window, peeking outside, she clears her throat, “do I wanna know whose car that is?”

You glance over your shoulder and swallow nervously.

You’re glad that her memory is awful.

Everyone knows who is driving the burgundy BMW, and your sister still lived in Hawkins when he got it. She should know who it belongs to.

Her lips curl into a smirk, and she wiggles her brows, “casual hook up, or… is it something serious?”

You know that she has been waiting for this day.

It is something serious, to you.

It is something serious when he holds you closely and kisses you softly, when his eyes soften and his lips curl into a smile at the sight of you.

It is something serious when your heart flutters every time his knuckles brush against yours.

It is something serious when you fall asleep in his arms and wake up in the very same spot.

It is something serious when you keep falling and falling with no end in sight.

Will you ever stop falling in love with him?

Will there ever be a moment where your feelings and your love will stop at one level, or will you continue falling harder every passing moment?

Your sister raises her eyebrows, lips curling into an even bigger smile, when she notices the flustered look on your face, the dreamy look in your eyes.

“Something serious, huh?”

You blink.

Staring at her, with your cheeks now feeling warm… way too warm, you shake your head quickly.

“N-No.”

You curse inwardly, for giving yourself away so easily with your stuttering and your blushing. That’s not how you ever reacted before when she mentioned any of your hookups.

She grins at you, wiggling her eyebrows, “mhm sure, Daisy.”

You roll your eyes at her teasing glances, but the nickname makes you smile.

Out of all the flowers, your mom loved Daisies the most, she would put the dainty flowers in your braids, and behind your ear whenever you were out in the garden. You would pick them for her and make little bouquets to surprise her with.

She always called you her little Daisy.

Your sister picked up on that nickname, though she used it to mock you at first when she went through a weird phase of hating flowers – which is really ironic considering the flower shop she ended up working at when she moved to the city.

She could’ve given you another nickname, something silly – something like the name you gave to her, but she spared you, luckily.

“Shut up, Twinkie,” you mumble, as you look back at your niece, who is beginning to stir in her sleep, her long lashes fluttering as small noises escape her mouth. “As happy as I am to see this little bean, why are you here at uh,” you pause, turning your head to look at the clock on the wall, “ten in the morning?” You ask.

She makes her way over to you, a sweet smile appearing on her face, as she gives you her best puppy eyes.

“I was hoping that you could look after Francine?” She asks, still smiling. “Lisa is getting married soon, and she asked me to go wedding dress shopping with her, I can’t take her, we’ll probably be out all day, and I can’t wait for Ethan to get home, his shift won’t end before–”

“It’s fine, I’ll look after her,” you interrupt her, despite the slight nervousness that rises up in you.

You have no experience with babies at all, you have given her the bottle, you even changed her diaper, but your sister was around, and you didn’t spend the whole day alone with her.

She sighs in relief, she puts her hand on your shoulder, “oh thank you!”

“Don’t mention it, I’d never say no to hanging out with my favorite girl.”

“You need to spend more time with her anyways, you coming once a week isn’t enough!”

You frown at your sister, “you’re the one who moved away!”

She waves her hand at you, walking around the couch, she walks over to the carrier, “she always does that little scrunch with her nose before she wakes up.”

You smile, watching as she leans in to place a gentle kiss to her daughter’s cheek.

“Okay,” she whispers, pulling back to look at you, “I put everything into the bag, diapers, bottles, formula, a change of clothes in case her diapers leak, and uh… pacifiers. And uh, you know if she cries just lie down with her and put her on your chest, she loves cuddles.”

You nod, “yeah, I know, I haven’t forgotten. I got this.”

“Yeah you do, Daisy. And if you need help, just call Eddie–”

“Are you kidding?” You laugh, shaking your head as amusement flashes in your eyes.

Eddie and Max were there, the last time your sister showed up with her husband and little Francine.

While the redhead was rather excited to hold the little girl, Eddie felt too afraid to even touch her, and he nearly gagged when Max chased him with a dirty diaper.

“He looked at her like he was scared of her!”

Your sister laughs, “yeah, right. Okay, so not Eddie then, I’m sure Max would love to help though, or maybe someone else – but I’ll get going now, I promise, I’ll make it up to you, you got this, Daisy.” She smiles, ruffling your hair, she leans down to look at her daughter one more time, “bye bug, I’ll see you soon,” she whispers and squeezes her tiny foot before she steps away. “Okay, I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, see you later, Twinkie.”

The moment the front door is slammed shut, you let out a long sigh, and throw your head back against the pillows on your couch. You bring your hand up to your face and pinch the bridge of your nose.

You are still tired, and it seems as though Steve is still sleeping soundly.

You want nothing more than to return back to bed and sink into your pillows again.

You definitely won’t get any sleep now, but you still get up and slowly lift the baby carrier, hoping that the movement won’t wake her up. You try to be careful as you make your way out of the living room and up the stairs.

When you walk into your room, you find Steve now laying on his stomach, his face buried in your pillow. The sheets are low on his body, his whole back is exposed.

The tiny cooing sounds from inside the carrier, cause your lips to curl into a big smile. You place it down on your carpet, and kneel down, giggling when you’re met by her big eyes. She starts wiggling around when she sees you.

“Hi little angel,” you whisper, and lean closer to unfasten the safety belts, before you lift her up from the carrier, placing your right hand behind her head, you pull her into your chest, her hand instantly reaches for your hair, clasping her tiny fingers around it, she makes you laugh when she starts pulling it, making happy noises while she does so.

You sit down on your bed, and lift your legs up, scooting back until you’re resting against the pillows behind you. You pull the covers over your lower body.

A small squeal leaves her mouth.

“Shh, someone’s sleeping,” you whisper, tapping her little nose, glancing at Steve who is starting to stir in his sleep.

You place her on your lap, and giggle at the cuteness as she stretches her little legs out. “That’s a cute onesie,” you whisper, rubbing her belly, “I bet you picked that yourself didn’t you? Pink is a pretty color on you, princess.”

She babbles and wiggles around as she stares at you with her big eyes.

Your voice, and the small coos pull Steve out of his deep sleep, his mind is still in a haze, his eyes still closed.

“Da da da.”

Your giggle follows the tiny voice.

Steve scrunches his brows together, gripping the pillow underneath him, he slowly opens his eyes and looks at your side of the bed, his lips part and his eyes widen completely, something in his chest stirs strongly as he stares at the sight in front of him.

He is still sleeping.

He is still dreaming.

A smile is resting on your face, eyes lightened up as you entertain the little baby girl on your lap, a pink bow around her head, big eyes resembling your own as she stares at you with a smile on her face, her hair color is the same as yours.

Steve swallows the lump that grew in his throat, warmth settles in his chest, surrounding his heart and filling it with something, with adoration.

His eyes soften when you lean down to kiss her forehead, squishing her tiny cheeks.

“You’re the prettiest girl, Francis,” you whisper, using her nickname.

His lips curl into a smile, despite the confusion that still lingers in his features.

This is surely one of his dreams, he is convinced of it, why else would he wake up beside you, and a baby who looks like you?

But when you turn to face him, and the little girl follows your movement, looking at him with wide eyes, he isn’t so sure anymore.

He blinks, watching as you reach for Francis’s little arm, waving her tiny hand at him, “say hi Steve.”

The little girl babbles even louder, making a grabby hand at him.

Steve smiles at her, raising his hand up, he waves at her.

You can’t help but laugh at the lost and confused look on his face, his brows are pulled together, his lips parted as he looks between you and your niece.

He turns around on his back, and pushes himself so he’s leaning against your headboard, adjusting the cover, he pulls it up higher. He looks around the room, before his eyes return to the two of you, he runs his fingers through his messy hair, eyes flickering back and forth.

Your lips tug into a smirk, you can tell that he doesn’t understand a thing right now.

You look at him, as you pull your niece closer, holding her up, you press her against your chest, “can you believe that we made a baby overnight?”

You almost burst into laughter when his brown eyes widened with pure shock, and he choked a little.

He blinks, shaking his head, “I know I just woke up, and I’m still sleepy… but… I still kind of remember biology.”

Francine makes another grabby hand at him, “ma ma.”

“I dunno, but I’m pretty sure she just called you mama.”

Steve’s cheeks heat up, and he turns away from you, looking around your room again before his eyes catch the picture on your nightstand, the one of you and your sister. Oh.

“Ah… Your niece,” Steve murmurs as he looks back at the two of you.

“Good morning, Harrington,” you giggle. Francine copies your giggle, and Steve can’t help but smile. “Oh you like that name, huh? It’s funny isn’t it? Harrington.” Her little eyes crinkle, and she starts babbling with a laugh. Steve keeps her eyes on her, smiling at the little girl.

“That’s Francine,” you smile, introducing your niece to him.

Steve lifts his hand up, waving his fingers at her, “hi Francine, I’m Steve.”

She squirms in your arms, making happy noises as she blinks at him. Steve chuckles, he scoots closer to you, and he lifts his hand, and touches her tiny one. Francine wraps her hand around his finger, gripping it tightly, making his smile even bigger.

“Is your sister here?” He asks, without looking away from the little girl.

You shake your head, “no, she asked me to babysit today. So uh… I’ll be busy with my girl here today.”

The urge to stay here with you, and this cute little mini you, feels so strong.

“Want me to help?” Steve asks.

You’re a little stunned by his question, and can only stare in surprise.

“Huh?”

“I mean, I don’t mind staying to help,” Steve shrugs, glancing at you for a second before he gives his attention back to Francine, who stares at him in awe.

The thought of spending a whole day with Steve, taking care of a baby with him, sounds like heaven.

The only reason why he’s ever even around you without the group is because of sex, and that only. You don’t meet up just to watch movies, cook together or anything else, you only meet up for one thing, that’s all.

The fact that he is willing to just spend time with you, without expecting anything to happen baffles you a little.

“I-I… Do you really want to stay?”

He nods.

“Not much of a choice, to be honest,” he murmurs with a fond smile on his face as he gestures to your niece who is still holding his finger tightly.

“O-Okay,” you whisper, shakily as nervousness and excitement rise up in you.

“She’s so adorable,” Steve whispers, chuckling when Francine babbles at him, “she looks like you.”

You smile before you realize what he just said, and heat rushes to your cheeks.

She’s so adorable, she looks like you.

“I-I uh,” you stutter, trying to keep your cool, “so you’re gonna stay then?”

“Yeah, I’d love to hang out with Blondie and mini Blondie over here,” he chuckles as he taps her nose.

Your heart could burst right then and there, your cheeks feeling incredibly hot the longer you sit here and stare at him.

“Cool,” you say with a small voice as you suddenly feel the need to escape for a moment, “would you mind looking after her for a moment then? I wanna take a quick shower or else I’ll walk around looking like a bum all day.”

Steve turns to look at you, he takes in the sight of your messy hair, and the shirt on your body, only now noticing that it’s his. His insides tingle, and his lips curl into a smile.

You look like a cute bum. He almost blurts out, but bites his tongue.

“Sure, go ahead, me and Francine are just gonna hang out, right?”

She squeals in response, making jumpy movements.

You both laugh at her.

You lay her down beside him, and tickle her belly, giggling when she starts kicking her feet, “alright, I’ll be right back, angel.”

Steve doesn’t even notice how big his smile is, how soft his eyes are as he stares at you, how warm the feeling in his chest is.

“She might roll over on her belly, and if she gets a little fuzzy just pick her up, she loves snuggles. I’m gonna be quick.”

Steve scoots closer to Francine, leaning his elbow on the pillow, he rests his head against his palm, and glances at you, “it’s fine, take your time, I’m just gonna chat with her.”

Francine is still kicking her feet and waving around with her little arms.

“Oh yeah, she’s very talkative,” you giggle, and get up from the bed, you walk over to your dresser and pick out some clothes to change into. As much as you would love to wear his shirt all day, he needs it himself – although, you wouldn’t mind him walking around shirtless.

Once you get everything you need, you turn back to take a look at them, and you nearly melt into a puddle when you see the way she is still clutching his finger, kicking her legs and babbling something to him, while he watches her with a smile on his face.

“O-Okay, I’ll be right back.”

You leave the room in a haste, but Steve doesn’t even notice, too busy staring at little Francine. He adores the resemblance of you, and the color of her eyes that matches yours, she truly looks like you.

Steve can’t remember the last time he saw or even held a baby, he’s not sure if he ever even held one. He was ten when one of his cousins was born, but he didn’t care to hold him back then.

Francine keeps making a grabby hand at him, while she tugs at his finger, starting to get fuzzy after a few minutes pass without your presence in the room.

He sits up straighter and pulls the blanket up higher, he reaches for one of your throw pillows and places it on his lap.

“Alright Francine,” Steve whispers, he takes a deep breath and furrows his brows in concentration as he carefully lifts her up, supporting her head with his palm, he pulls her closer and lays her down on the soft pillow.

She coos and starts blowing bubbles, making Steve laugh.

“Oh, you’re so adorable,” he smiles, pulling her a little closer, “did you pick that bow today?” He asks, eying the headband around her little head.

She makes a few grunting noises, though looking at him with a happy look on her face.

“Your auntie loves those bows too, she puts some in her ponytails sometimes,” Steve says, talking to her as though he will get more than just a few babbles from her. “I bet you’re gonna steal them from her someday–”

Prrrrrrrrrrrrrrt

Steve’s face pales at the sound, his eyes widen.

The noise that came from her diapers sounded more than just air.

“Oh fuck,” he mumbles before his eyes widen further at the curse word that just left his lips, “I shouldn’t have said that, shit– I mean, I’m sorry, please forget what I just said,” he rambles, as though she understood a single thing that he said.

Francine babbles, kicking her feet into his stomach with a happy squeal.

“Um,” he panics, looking around the room, “Blondie!?”

“What Steve!?” You call from the bathroom, “it’s been five minutes!”

“I uh–” He mumbles, scratching the back of his neck as he furrows his brows, “code red…?”

You nearly laugh at his choice of words, you only ever used code red in the upside down, for the real emergencies.

You can already guess what happened, and it only makes your amusement grow bigger. You quickly put your clothes on, and brush your hair before you make your way out of the bathroom and back to them.

“Okay, I’m here,” you announce, placing his shirt that you stole earlier on your bed, you walk over to his side, and take a seat beside him, “that was the quickest shower of my life.”

He gets a whiff of your vanilla body wash, of the mint from your toothpaste, and the smell of perfume that lingers in your hair, making his chest flutter.

“She uh– I think she needs a diaper change.”

“Oh,” you laugh, “that’s what you’re panicking about?”

Steve glares at you.

“You wanted to help,” you shrug as you get up again, making your way out of the room again to get the bag with Francine’s stuff. “You gotta learn how to change diapers, Harrington!”

Steve huffs nervously, “no big deal right?” He whispers to Francine.

“Da da da.”

“Yeah,” Steve laughs, “right.”

You come back into the room, and put the bag on the ground, picking out new diapers, wet wipes, baby powder and the spare onesie, along with the thin baby towel that you spread out on your mattress.

“Alright, Lego head,” you raise your eyebrows at him, “do you wanna practice for your future nuggets or are you scared of baby poop?”

He snorts, shaking his head at you.

“No, I’m not scared of baby poop.”

You walk over to them both and lean down before him, you pick Francine up, and scrunch your face up, “yeah, you really need a diaper change, angel.”

Steve watches as you carry her over to the other side, placing her down on the towel you spread out. You undo the buttons of her onesie, smiling at the little girl.

“Well, come on,” you giggle at him, “it’s an experience you gotta make, Steve.”

Steve takes a deep breath, he throws the pillow off his lap and removes the cover. He gets up from the bed, standing there in his boxers for a moment, until his eyes find the sweatpants he discarded last night, he quickly throws them on, along with the shirt you wore earlier.

“Alright,” he murmurs, running his fingers through his hair, he walks up beside you, “just tell me what to do.”

You chuckle at his nervousness, you place your hand on his shoulder, “don’t worry, if Max was able to do it, you can do it too.”

A breathy laugh falls from his lips.

You guide him, giving him a little step by step of what to do.

You watch the way his brows knit together, and the way he is nodding to himself as he follows your words.

He doesn’t even look disgusted when the smell hits him, he only chuckles at the way Francine continues babbling happily.

“She’s a happy baby, isn’t she?”

You nod, smiling down at your niece, “yes she is.”

You hand him the new diapers and the baby powder, before you put the used wipes into the dirty diaper, roll it up carefully and throw it into the trash in your bathroom before you return to your room.

“How old is she?”

“She’s gonna be three months old tomorrow,” you say, smiling as you step up beside him again.

Steve raises his eyebrows at Francine, “oh, you’re gonna be a big girl tomorrow?” He jokes as he tickles her belly, making her laugh.

The smile on your face widens, the feeling in your chest growing stronger and brighter.

Her small giggles, and the fond smile that rests in his tired features spark something deep inside of you, a warming and comforting feeling appears as you watch him take care of her with careful and slow movements.

“Is that okay?” He asks you, gesturing to the diapers he put on her, “or is it too tight?”

You lean closer to him and check the pressure, “no, that’s perfect, Steve.”

“It is?” He asks, surprised.

You nod, and start to put her onesie back on, “yeah, I don’t even know what you panicked about, you’ve done a better job than me, I didn’t know what I was doing the first time,” you laugh. “You did good, Lego head.”

A dimpled grin appears on his face, despite the redness in his cheeks.

“I-I think caring for a bunch of kids that turned into teens turned me into a natural, even babies. I mean, Dustin counts as a baby, doesn’t he?” He jokes, watching the way your eyes crinkle and your lips spread before you burst into giggles.

Francine watches you with big eyes before she copies your giggles like before.

Steve’s eyes light up, as he watches you both.

The warmth in his chest spreads, as happiness rises up in him.

After adjusting her clothes and the bow on her head, you pick her up into your arms, leaning down to kiss her cheek.

You don’t even notice just how soft the look in his eyes, how the ghost of a smile now lingers on his lips, as he stares at the both of you in awe, watching the way Francine buries her face in the crook of your neck, and you keep a gentle hand on the back of her head.

“Do you want some breakfast? I can make you something after I give this princess her bottle, I think she’s getting tired again.”

Steve’s heart thumps strongly in his chest, he can’t deny the emotions of adoration in him as he looks at you with the baby on your arm.

“I can make you a breakfast sandwich or anything else you want.”

Steve blinks.

“Uh, you don’t have to make anything for me, Blondie. I can make you something though.”

You shake your head, “no, you’re my guest, I’ll make you breakfast, and you can feed her if you want.”

“Okay,” he says with a sigh, nodding his head, “I’ll make you lunch or dinner though.”

“Oh, are you gonna woo me with your cooking skills now?” You giggle.

He looks down with a smile, “I promised I would, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, you did.”

Francine clasps her fingers around your hair again, pulling it stronger than before, making you wince a little.

“Okay, okay, someone’s getting a little grumpy now. I’m gonna go make her the bottle.”

“I’ll be right there with you, I’m just gonna go brush my teeth real quick,” Steve gestures to your bathroom, “do you need me to carry the bag down?”

“No, it’s fine, it’s not heavy,” you say as you step towards him, “but can you help me put it on my shoulder?”

“Yeah, of course.”

He grabs the bag and steps towards you, putting the strap around your shoulder. His eyes soften yet again, when he sees you looking down at your niece, smiling as she blinks at you with her big eyes.

Steve doesn’t even notice that his hand still lingers on your shoulder, or that he’s rubbing your back, he is too in awe of the two of you, and that feeling stays with him, even when you leave the room and go downstairs, even when he goes into the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face, he stares at his reflection in the mirror, and he can’t even unsee the happiness and the relaxation in his features, but he decides to pay no mind to it.

When he joins you downstairs, he finds you in the kitchen, finishing up on Francine’s bottle, you’re shaking it, while whispering something to her as you’re still holding her in your arm, still.

Steve doesn’t know what it is, but the sight before him, makes him freeze in his spot.

As you stand there in your kitchen, with a smile on your lips, and a look of adoration in your eyes, you’re cooing at your niece, giggling every time she babbles something at you, he realizes something.

You are comfortable, right now.

You’re in your home, away from the eyes of strangers, hidden from the world that you have only shown one side of yourself to, your walls are down, you are just yourself, and there is no shame behind your eyes, because all your attention goes to someone you adore and love, and don’t feel the need to hide from.

Your eyes shine brightly, your features are relaxed in a way they have never been before, and your smile is so genuine, so real.

You’re talking to her with a small and gentle voice, you hold her tightly against your chest – and you… god you look so beautiful like this.

You look so beautiful with a baby in your arms.

Warmth spreads across his whole body, he likes the sight in front of him, he likes it so much that it should scare him, but it doesn’t.

“There he is, Francis,” you smile, glancing at Steve, you don’t even notice how frozen in place he is, how heaven struck he looks, “are you ready to give her the bottle?”

Steve blinks, snapping out of his mind, he nods at you with a blush on his cheeks.

You brush past him, and gesture for him to follow you into the living room, after you grab the cloth from the counter.

You place the bottle on the coffee table, and wait for him to take a seat on the couch.

“Alright, you gotta tell me what to do,” Steve says nervously, as he sits down, “I’ve never done this before.”

“Don’t be nervous, you got this,” you assure him.

You step between his legs, and lean down to place Francine into his arms.

Without needing to be told, he cradles the back of her head, as he gently pulls her into his arms, a smile spreading on his lips when her big eyes look into his.

“Okay,” you whisper and put the cloth under her chin, adjusting it over her clothes in case a little accident might happen.

“Am I holding her correctly?” Steve asks, looking up at you.

The side of her face is nuzzled into his chest, the back of her head resting in the crook of his arm. You didn’t even need to guide him, he truly is a natural.

“Yeah,” you smile, “you’re doing great.”

You hand him the bottle, and sit down beside him.

“Did you test the temperature?” Steve asks, and you almost want to laugh at his question.

“Yeah Steve, I did.”

He nods at you.

With a chuckle, you pull your feet up onto the sofa and sit on your knees, turning your body towards them.

“Okay, now gently place the teat into her mouth and slowly tilt the bottle, she will do the rest.”

He furrows his brows, poking his tongue through his lips, he focuses on your niece as he follows your words.

You watch him closely, how soft and concentrated his eyes are, how careful his movements are, how small she looks in his arms, how sweet the sight of them is.

Francine raises her little arm, and places her tiny hand on the bottle as she starts sucking on the teat, small noises falling from her.

“Oh my god,” Steve whispers, the biggest smile you have ever seen, now glowing in his features as he looks at her in awe, “she’s the cutest little bean.”

“Yeah, she is,” you smile and tilt your head as you watch them, the fluttering feeling in your chest sparking.

Her eyelashes flutter, her big eyes still staring into his.

“I’m gonna cry, Blondie,” Steve murmurs, adoring the little human in his arms. “She's so tiny and adorable.”

You move closer and reach for the corner of the cloth, wiping away the bit of milk that rolls down her chin.

“You’re gonna have one of those someday too.”

Steve smiles at your words, nodding as he whispers “hopefully.”

But he doesn’t notice the way your own smile falls, the way your eyes sadden for a moment, the way you look down and blink away the feelings you don’t want him to see. And he doesn’t realize how quiet you get, he is too distracted by Francine and the thoughts in his head, the pictures of a future he longs for so badly.

Only when the bottle is empty and he removes it, does he turn back to you, but still too blinded by his mind to see the look in your eyes. You take the bottle from his hand, and place it back on the coffee table.

“You gotta hold her against your chest now,” you tell him and remove the cloth from her body, you place it on his chest instead, “and gently pat her back so she can burp.”

You guide him again, helping him hold her correctly as he places her against his chest, he puts his hand on her back, and starts patting gently.

“Is that good?”

“Yeah,” you whisper and scoot closer to him, you reach for her tiny hand, caressing it as you watch her with a smile on your face, “she’s tired.”

“Yeah, pooping must’ve been really exhausting,” Steve jokes, making you giggle.

“Yeah, totally–”

A loud burp falls from her mouth.

“Oh that was a big one,” Steve chuckles as he stops patting her, “you did good, bug.”

“She didn’t even spit, she usually does a little, wow you really do have magical hands,” you chuckle, and remove the cloth from his shoulder.

“Told you, I’m a natural,” he smiles proudly.

You roll your eyes playfully.

“Do you want me to take her now?” You ask.

He shakes his head at you, “can I hold her for a while?”

Confusion flashes in your eyes. You know how badly he needs his coffee in the mornings, it’s one of the first things he does after he wakes up, going into the kitchen to brew his beloved morning coffee. He didn’t even take a single sip yet, but he doesn’t seem to mind, he is too in awe of the baby on his chest.

Realization replaces the look in your eyes – he is entering a baby fever trance, with your niece nonetheless. It makes your smile reappear, that’s how you feel too, every time you get to spend time with her.

“Of course,” you whisper, as your gaze softens.

Francine’s eyelashes flutter, her blinking getting slower and lesser.

“She’s gonna pass out though, you should sit back a little so she can lay on you.”

He nods at your words, placing one hand on her back and the other under her bum, he lays back slowly, his lips twitching into a small smile when he sees her already falling asleep. She scrunches up her nose as she nuzzles her face into his chest, making you both laugh when she suddenly throws her hand up, managing to catch onto a strand of his hair.

She wiggles around for a moment, before her eyes start falling shut.

“And she’s out,” Steve whispers, chuckling to himself. “I wish I could fall asleep this fast.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Her cheek is squished against him, she’s breathing softly now, her hand falling from his hair and onto his shoulder, her little headband beginning to slip off.

You reach out to take it off her head slowly, and lean in to place a soft kiss on her forehead, unaware of the fond smile on Steve’s lips, or the feelings that rush through him because of you.

“I’m gonna go make some coffee and breakfast now,” you mumble as you pull away, and get up from the couch, grabbing the bottle and the cloth.

Steve’s eyes follow you as you walk over to the TV stand, and grab the remote, handing it to him, “you can watch something if you want, it won’t disturb her, she’s a heavy sleeper.”

“I’m good, I’ll watch her for now,” he whispers.

“Okay, I’ll be right back,” you say, and give him a smile before you leave the room.

A genuine smile.

You smiled at him before, countless of times actually, but he could never tell what was real and what wasn’t, what was genuine and what was forced or just sarcastic. But this, this was a real smile, and there was no second meaning behind it. You just smiled at him, naturally. It makes him feel… happy, and as he looks down at the little girl that has your features, he realizes something.

The feeling in his chest was never for nothing, it was never false or misleading.

It was just as real as the smile you blessed him with.

Suddenly, everything before him doesn't seem as dull and colorless as it did all these past months and even years, something sparks before his eyes and he can see again, he can feel something besides the never ending gnawing in his chest and the restlessness in his bones, the fears that nestled deep into his soul. He finally sees something other than the darkened clouds and the red lights that keep flashing before his eyes.

A light that keeps peeking through every once in a while is on the verge of breaking through, making the walls around him rattle as the foundation starts to crumble, one brick at a time starts falling into an abyss.

A future lays before his eyes, calling out to him and waiting to be grasped, an echo, a whisper, a glimpse of what could be if things were only different.

For the rest of the day, Steve feels as though he had fallen into a pleasant dream, a world where it’s only you and him, a little girl that made him realize just how badly he wants to have a family of his own – he already knew that he wanted it, but he pictured the wrong person by his side, a person he no longer even wanted.

He was blinded by old feelings, and the wish to have something real again, when it never even was to begin with.

The feelings that are sparking in him now, feel so different from anything that he had ever felt before, and he only opens his eyes to them more and more as the day passes, and he sees a side of you that he had never seen before.

He sees with how much love and gentleness you treat your niece, he sees the way your eyes hold nothing but adoration for the girl that you would do anything for.

He hears how soft your voice can get.

He feels how soft your touch can be when you once again hand her to him.

And his heart beats so strongly, so fastly in his chest when a giggle falls from your lips after Francine pouts when you take her away from him again, only to be forced to place her back into his arms when she almost starts crying.

Steve adores her, and he adores you – a little more as every second of this day passes.

The thing that pushes him nearer towards the finish line of realization, is this very moment in front of him.

Your niece fell asleep on his chest yet again, you are sitting right next to him, with your head on his shoulder and your eyes glued on her, your finger tracing her little features. The urge to pull you closer and hold you feels so strong to the point that his fingers start itching.

“I’m sorry I didn’t cook dinner for you,” he whispers.

You look at him through your lashes, the corner of your lip twitching as your eyes flicker to his lips for a brief moment.

The only light in the room now coming from the TV, the volume set on the lowest. The rain is still falling, even as the night nears.

“It’s okay, Francis didn’t let you,” you giggle softly, not knowing that the sound makes his heart flutter. “Besides, the pizza was really good.”

“Yeah, it was,” he whispers.

He notices how tired you look, how the sleepiness is beginning to set into your features now too.

“Look at her tiny nose,” you whisper as you look back at her, “and those little hands.”

Something in the way you hold her hand and whisper so adoringly about her, makes him long for you even more – but not in a way he had felt before, no, this is different, this is so very serious.

Steve lifts his arm as a blush creeps up to his cheeks, he wraps his arm around you, and pulls you closer, “come here,” he whispers into your hair, “there’s space for two Blondies on my chest.”

He doesn’t know what kind of emotions he can trigger in you, with such simple words.

He doesn’t know that you have been dying to feel this.

You lay your head on his chest, and he can’t help but smile at the sigh that falls from your lips. You put your arm around Francine, and snuggle against him, and you stay like that, for a while at least, until Steve allows his feelings to take the lead.

He adjusts the blanket over Francine before he pulls you even closer, and he buries his fingers in your hair, allowing himself to play with it like he only ever does when you’re fast asleep and unaware of his soft touches or the glances that fall upon your skin.

He would feel joy if he knew about the emotions that linger inside of you.

“You will be an amazing dad to your little nuggets someday, Steve,” you say in a whisper, it’s almost too quiet for him to hear, “and a good husband too.”

The shakiness in your voice and the sadness goes by unnoticed by him, he is too stunned by your words.

If he could see inside your head, he would know how much sadness there is, how the dark clouds always reside, how you don’t see a future for yourself because you know that he won’t be in it, and without him, what will you have? What will you be? A wilting rose, left behind to die. You are barely holding on now, but you are still here, because he is still keeping you alive. Your life is in his hands.

Steve takes a deep breath, he opens his mouth to whisper to you, only to see you fast asleep now too, your cheek squished against his chest just like Francine’s is.

He breathes out, lips curling into a smile as he stops playing with your hair.

“You will be amazing too, Blondie,” he whispers.

A girlfriend. A wife. A mother.

Whatever you choose to be, whoever you will bless with your love, they are going to be so lucky to have you.

And before he can even realize where his thoughts are taking him, a frown nestles into his features. The thought that he will become a memory to you, makes him feel uneasy. The thought that someone will step into your life, and take away what you both have, fills him with gray-ish sadness once again. The image of someone putting a ring on your finger and getting to be the one to lift the veil and kiss you on the altar openly, in front of everybody, and without needing to hide, spreads the darkness in him, yet again.

He looks down at you, at the way you look so comfortable in his embrace, while your soft hand stays on the girl’s back, he admires you, and he feels no shame to do so, not even when he lifts his hand to brush your hair out of your face.

But his time with you is cut short when the front door unlocks and opens, and footsteps echo in the hallway, a moment later.

He turns his face away from you, when your sister steps into the living room, freezing in her steps when she sees him.

Steve swallows the lump in his throat, giving her a tight lipped smile, he raises his hand to wave at her, “hi…”

She furrows her brows as she takes in the sight of you three, her lips pulling into a confused smile. She takes her denim jacket off and walks further into the room, her lips curling into a big smile when she takes a look at her girl.

But then her eyes fall back on him, and suddenly, her lips part in surprise.

“Hi…Oh– you, hang on,” she mumbles, tilting her head before her eyes widen, “Steve Harrington?”

Steve doesn’t know what to think of the look on her face, or the stunned tone in her voice.

He met her before, at the hospital when she came to visit you, but he didn’t talk to her, and her reaction makes him wonder if you have mentioned him before.

“Yeah… that’s uh… that’s me.”

The silence that follows is almost too loud, he can see the way she looks between you both, back and forth, as her brows stay furrowed.

She points a finger between you both, “so uh… you’re her boyfriend?”

Steve hesitates, and he glances down at you, bitterness lays on his tongue when he utters the next words, “uh… no… no, I’m not.” Sadly, he thinks.

And when he registers the words that popped into his head out of nowhere, he suddenly wants nothing more than to escape this situation, fearing his own feelings again.

“I-I should go now.”

“Oh, you’re not staying another night?” She asks, a somewhat smug tone in her voice as she looks at you.

He would love to, but it’s better to go now. It’s not safe to stay, not for his heart.

“No, I have to work tomorrow.”

“Ah,” she nods and walks over to the three of you, “I’ll take her now,” she whispers, and carefully picks her daughter up. The little girl stirs in her sleep, grunting quietly but not opening her eyes just yet.

“She’s a heavy sleeper,” Steve chuckles as he watches the way Francine relaxes into her mother’s arms.

“She really is,” your sister laughs, and walks over to the armchair, taking a seat before she looks back up at Steve, “kind of like Daisy when she’s relaxed,” she nudges her chin towards you.

A smile appears on his face, and he looks down at you, his arm is still wrapped around you, and he already dreads the feeling of having to let you go.

“Yeah,” he whispers, taking a long look at you, before he decides to get up.

A sigh leaves his lips, and he slowly slips away from you, replacing his chest with a pillow for your head, his eyes soften when you scrunch your nose up just the way your niece did earlier. He adjusts the blanket over you, fighting the urge to leave a kiss on your forehead before he steps away.

Your sister eyes him closely, watching how he treats you with so much care.

When Steve steps away, and looks away from you, glancing at your sister, heat rushes to his cheeks when he sees the way she looks between you both, a smug look lingering in her eyes, a small but teasing smile on her face.

He wants to run.

“Okay uh,” he mumbles, scratching the back of his neck before he points his finger at the hallway, “I’m gonna go.”

“Okay,” she nods, “thanks for helping with Francine.”

He waves his hand, a smile now reappearing on his face as he looks at the baby girl, already missing the feeling of holding her.

“No need to thank me, I loved spending time with these two,” he chuckles, pointing between you and your niece. “But uh, I’m gonna head out.”

“Alright,” she smiles at him.

He takes one last look at you before he turns around and makes his way out of the living room, he puts his Nike’s on, and grabs the car keys he threw on the counter, last night.

“Bye, Twinkie.”

“Bye…” She mumbles with furrowed brows, confused at the name he just called her by.

The front door shuts quietly, yet loud enough to wake you up. With a flinch, you open your eyes, and look around the room, feeling a little disoriented. You look to your side, the empty spot beside you, making you frown.

“Your boyfriend left,” your sister's voice sounds through the room.

You turn to her, finding her in the armchair she always loved so much. A smug look is resting on her lips.

“Shut up,” you mumble, glaring at her.

She laughs at you, and leans back, getting comfortable in her seat.

“Spill. Now.”

The hot water rolls down Steve’s skin, the smell of shampoo surrounds him as he washes his hair.

His eyes are closed, but a smile rests on his lips, as images of all the things that happened today replay in his mind.

The fluttering in his chest hasn’t stopped at all, everything you did, everything you said, every single touch of yours has seemingly turned him into a hopeless teenager again – only, he isn’t one anymore, and the feelings inside of him, go much deeper than the ones of a seventeen year old boy.

And no matter how much he tries to deny them, he just can’t, because it becomes less and less possible to pretend that they aren’t there.

Today, they shined through so brightly, when he saw how soft and gentle you could be, when he saw the sides of you that you never wanted to show. He saw something he never thought was even there. And it causes awful feelings to rise up in him, when he comes to the realization that all these years, you were only protecting yourself from the hurt in this world, and you did so by putting up a front and giving people the wrong pictures of yourself.

You were mean and rough to those you didn’t trust, and he was one of them, maybe he still is, but he saw you today.

When you greeted him this morning, with your niece in your arms.

When you kissed her little forehead, and held her in your sweet embrace.

When you taught him to bottle feed her.

When you admired her with him, and traced her little features with your finger and a loving smile on your face.

When you told him how great of a husband he would be someday, and an amazing dad to his nuggets.

Wait… you said nuggets, plural. He never told you he wanted kids, so how did you know? How did you even know he would love to call his children that particular word? Was it intuition? Was it a coincidence?

His eyebrows knit together with complete and utter confusion as the water just keeps running over his head, and the realization hits him like a ton of bricks.

The RV. His conversation with Nancy. Him telling Nancy he wants to be someone’s husband and have six nuggets. Him pouring his desires out, thinking that everyone else in the vehicle was sound asleep.

But you weren’t.

Fuck, you weren’t asleep. You heard him. You heard him talking to Nancy, and you– you think that he wants those things with her still. He should clarify it, shouldn’t he? He wants to tell you that it was the dread of the world ending talking for him. He wants to explain himself to you–

Explain himself? Why? You probably wouldn’t care who he has kids with, or who he marries. You would simply give him a thumbs up and a confused look on your face. But– He feels his stomach contracting with nerves, nerves he knows all too well. He doesn’t need to explain anything to you. He doesn’t need to clarify anything.

But, he doesn’t want you to think he wants that family with Nancy Wheeler.

He really doesn’t.

And he is terrified that he doesn’t want you to misunderstand.

Absolutely fucking terrified.

And then, the realization, the surprise and the nerves turn into absolute guilt. He had also said a few things about you. Nancy told him that it’s sad you had to be included this way into the party, into their problems, but that you looked strong and determined after going into the upside down just one time.

And he replied with how much he desired you wouldn’t have gotten involved at all. It sounded harsh, it sounded vile and venomous… And it was intended that way, or at least that’s what he thought.

Now, he realizes that he didn’t want you involved so you wouldn’t go through danger, but you did, you went through so much pain and suffering. Nancy was right, you were strong, and you didn’t second guess your actions when it meant saving someone.

“Shit–” He jumped a bit when he felt the water turn cold, not realizing for how long he had been in his head, thinking, running through his thoughts and memories. He turned the water off and shook his head to get the excess of it out of his hair.

He got out of the shower and grabbed a towel, a white one that had the smudge of a lipstick stain that never got off. Your lipstick.

And just that mere stain made his heart jump and miss one beat, two beats, maybe three. Fuck… Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

He really wants you to know he doesn’t mean what he said in the RV.

To both of those things.

Especially the one about Nancy.

“Fuck me.”

♡

tagging friends and mutuals

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

#rampage fic rec #not a want but a NEED

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eddiemunsonspantschain · 1 day

Text

Gdi Steve! I wanna smack him. And Eddie is the best fucking friend ever. I know this is gonna hurt more before it gets better and I am physically and mentally preparing myself

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter thirteen ⭐︎ For a moment, I was heaven struck

Warnings: mentions of smut, mentions of heartbreak and unrequited feelings, mentions of bad parenting, allusions to depression, lots of fluff -- and, angst at the end

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Steve gives you a glimpse of a future you could have with him -- if only things were so simple.

Word count: 13.5k+

Author's note: I'm not really proud of this chapter, but I hope you guys are gonna love this ♡ @hellfire--cult thanks for helping me, lovelyyyy

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next Chapter

♡

Sunlight peeks through the curtains of Steve’s bedroom, illuminating the room ever so slightly. The weight on his chest warms him up, the scent that lingers on your hair, and your body is his own, you used his shampoo and bodywash the night before. To know that you smell like him, causes something in his chest to stir.

As he opens his eyes, a smile appears on his face.

Your cheek is squished against his bare chest, your eyes shut tightly as you’re still sleeping deeply. Your arm is wrapped around his waist, your whole body covering his own like a blanket.

His own arms are wrapped around you, his left hand hidden underneath your – his shirt, fingers drumming against your soft skin.

Steve blinks his sleepiness away and he raises his hand up towards your hair, smoothing it out, he runs his fingers through it as he watches you.

This isn’t anything new, you woke up beside him, on him, countless times before, and yet, it still feels so surreal sometimes.

You are still his Blondie.

He is still Steve.

And yet, something has changed, something has shifted.

A sigh falls from your lips, and you only snuggle deeper into his chest, scrunching up your nose a little, before your features relax again.

He brushes some of your hair out of your face, his fingertips graze your cheek and your temple. He begins to twirl your strand around his finger, still smiling as his eyes stay on you.

Memories from the night before start flashing in his mind, causing his smile to grow bigger as he thinks of how you kissed him, how you touched him, how you let him touch you, how you clung to his body.

You got out of his car on shaky feet, your knees nearly buckled when you tried to walk, so he rushed towards you and steadied you with hands on your waist, before he leaned down and hooked his arm around the back of your knees and threw you over his shoulder, you squealed at his actions and hugged his waist tightly, as though he would let you fall. He couldn’t even help himself when he slapped your ass, the whimper that fell from your lips only made him feel more smug, just as the shakiness in your legs did.

You shared another first together, last night. And that feels special and… intimate. It isn’t something that he wants you to do with someone else – he doesn’t want to imagine you with anyone else, at all.

He only wants this, you finding pleasure in him and no one else.

He wants to feel special, he wants to feel needed, and so far, you have been good at making him feel such things.

And he tells himself that this is all it is – pleasure. That the gnawing feeling in his chest, the night before, wasn’t jealousy. That it was only possessiveness that he had felt because he wants you all to himself.

But as he lies in his bed, with you in his arms, snuggled up against him, sleeping on top of him, the way a casual hookup shouldn’t be, and he holds you tightly, even tighter than he held one girl before, his hand freezes in your hair and he stops twirling it, his heart jumps in his chest, and his eyes widen as the panic in him, rushes through him so quickly that it halts his breath in his throat.

And yet, the warmth in his chest feels so alarming, a flame that he thought had died, sparking – even if weakly.

No. No. No.

His mind chants the same word over and over again. But then you stir in your sleep, and he feels your bare legs on his, which are hidden beneath the blanket that covers you both. Your fingernails graze his skin, your lips touch his chest as you turn your head, and then, you lay your palm on the spot, right over his poor heart. An innocent move that makes the spark a tiniest bit brighter, stronger, and his heart beat faster.

‘Well shit’. Steve thinks.

He wants to groan, he wants to roll his eyes at himself and get angry at the weakness that lingers in him, but he can’t, he can’t even be mad at himself, not when he takes a deeper, longer look at you.

What would King Steve think of this?

His opinions don’t matter, they haven’t mattered once, since he let him die. But there was always a part of himself that he hated when he was still very much alive. He hated the thoughts in his head and how his own eyes strayed, even when he didn’t want them to. How his mind took him to where he told himself he didn’t want to be.

King Steve doesn’t matter, his opinions don’t matter – and yet, he can’t help but wonder what his teenage self would think of him now if he saw you in his arms, like this, so closely, so intimately.

He won’t ever find out, but he feels… troubled.

“What time is it?” Your groggy voice pulls him out of his thoughts, and his eyes focus again as they meet your tired ones.

You prop yourself up on his chest, and cover your mouth with your hand as you turn away with a yawn.

Steve’s hand leaves your hair, and he runs it down your back instead as he watches you, the smile never fading. No makeup on your skin, your hair in its natural state, his shirt on your frame, and your features marked with tiredness. You’re adorable like this.

You blink the sleep away, and rub your eyes as you take a look at the alarm on his nightstand. It’s 10 am.

“Good morning, Blondie,” Steve whispers.

“Morning, Steve.”

You roll off of him, much to his dismay. You stretch your arms out and try to do the same to your legs when the soreness hits you, and you register the strong ache between your thighs. A pained whimper falls from your lips and you scrunch your eyes shut again.

“Ouch.”

Steve’s eyes flash with concern as he pushes himself up, he eyes your body and watches the way you press your hand against your inner thigh, whimpering at the pain he caused, the night before.

“I’m going to kill you, Harrington.”

Relief is quick to follow in his eyes, he relaxes as a smirk tugs at his lips.

“It’s a good kind of pain, right Blondie?”

When you open your eyes, you meet his gaze with a glare, causing him to chuckle.

“Shut up, I don’t even know if I can stand,” you mumble as you press your palms against the mattress and sit up slowly.

Steve chuckles again, pride swelling inside of him, knowing that he was the cause of it. He gets up and walks around his room in nothing but boxers, opening one of his drawers to grab a shirt.

“I’ll prepare a bath for you to soak in then,” he says, glancing at you, “it’ll relax your muscles a little.”

Your heart skips a beat as your eyes widen.

You sit up further, still holding onto the sheets as you watch him put a shirt on his body.

“You’re preparing a bath for me?”

“Would you prefer a wheelchair?” He laughs, not noticing the stunned look on your face, as you open and close your mouth a few times. “I’ll be right back, Blondie,” he shoots you a smile before he opens the door, letting light seep into the room from the bright hallway, he takes another glance at you over his shoulder before he steps out and makes his way into the bathroom.

You listen to his movements, ears perking up at the sound of water flowing the bathtub, moments later.

He is really drawing you a bath.

He had never done anything like this before, the most you got was a change of clothes, him letting you use his shower and the spare toothbrush he had in his drawer, but never this.

This is him taking care of you and you can’t stop the smile from appearing on your face. Your heart flutters at the normalcy of all of this, despite how abnormal it is.

Surely, this has nothing to do with feelings, but with him wanting to make it up to you for making your body ache – not that you are complaining, last night was one of the best ones that you had shared with each other.

Despite the soreness in your body, you can’t help but feel heat pooling in your lower stomach, awakening the desire for him that always lingers.

You throw the blanket off yourself and scoot closer to the edge of the bed, furrowing your brows, you try not to groan at the pain in your legs when your feet hit the ground.

You have never experienced anything like this before.

You have never struggled to get up the next morning.

Your legs feel like jelly, and you can’t even squeeze your thighs together, but you push through the soreness. Your knees nearly buckle when you take the first step.

“Jesus…” You murmur, shaking your head.

You never spent much time wondering what kind of lover Steve would be, until he started showing signs of interest towards you. It felt wrong to think of him in such ways when he so clearly hated you.

But if you had to guess, you would’ve thought of him as someone sweet and caring, loving and gentle – and you are sure that he is, just not with you. And it’s okay, it really is. You like the way he touches you, you like how he marks you up, how he manhandles you, how rough and intense he can be. You wouldn’t want it any other way.

And yet, you can’t help but feel saddened to know that you will never experience another side of him – to know what it’s like to be loved by him.

You walk into the large bathroom, to find him testing the water with his hand. The scent of vanilla and cinnamon lingers in the air, the bathtub is filled up high, even with bubbles.

You lean against the doorframe and watch him for a moment, a teasing smile appearing on your face, “huh, who would’ve thought that Steve Harrington likes to take bubble baths – scented ones too.”

Steve scoffs at your words in amusement.

He turns around to face you after closing the tap.

“It’s my mom’s stuff, Blondie,” he chuckles as he takes in the sight of you. Letting his eyes roam your body, the marks on your neck, the shirt that belongs to him, the softness of your skin that he wants to feel on his lips again. The urge to take care of you, now growing stronger than ever.

You have stayed over countless times before, just as he did at your house.

But neither of you ever stayed for long enough, you woke up, you got dressed and the most you have provided for each other was a cup of coffee and small talk.

This is something new, a bubble bath – he had never done this for anyone before, despite how much he dreamed of having someone to take care of and spoil.

“C’mere, Blondie,” he murmurs as he walks towards you, reaching his hand out for your own, he pulls you into him and places his other hand on your waist, “I promise, this will make you feel better.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, your heart yet skipping another beat – if only he knew that it’s always aching for him.

He takes your shirt off, exposing your bare body to him. The spot beneath his touch glowing with heat as he now holds your naked waist with both hands.

Steve licks his lips as he looks down at you, his eyes blinking as they flash with something other than lust. There is a softness in them that you haven’t seen directed at you, ever before, and it makes your breathing stutter.

As the morning sun peeks through the blinds, the golden light kissing every inch of your exposed skin, he takes in the sight of how softly your hair lies on your shoulders, how flustered you look beneath his gaze, how puffy your lips are, how the marks on your neck are more than what you think they are.

His hands leave your waist, though they don’t stray away from you just yet. The tips of his fingers graze your skin. Whether the goosebumps are his cause or the coldness of the bathroom, his lips twitch at that. You look at him with wide eyes and parted lips, he is aware of the fluttering in his chest when he locks eyes with you.

You caught him staring, but for some reason it doesn’t make him want to step back or hide.

You are so devastatingly beautiful.

So beautiful that he can’t help but want to keep staring.

He is stuck in a world between the heavens and the earth, a world where it’s only you and him, where nothing else matters but the string that ties him to you, the string that he always wanted to deny, no matter how abnormally strong it was.

And even now, he is still in denial, he still isn’t there, but it’s slowly becoming harder to stay away from you in a much more intimate way.

“Steve,” you whisper, slowly pulling him back on solid ground.

He blinks, his eyelashes kissing his skin as he slowly awakens from his trance like state. The beating of his heart becomes stronger when he notices the softness in your eyes.

“Yes?” He whispers, squeezing your elbow as he feels the urge to shower your body with nothing but kisses, your bare skin looking so delicate to him.

“I-I’m cold.”

“R-Right,” he murmurs, shaking his head.

Steve steps to the side, and his hands leave your body, but he offers his hand out for you as you step closer to the bathtub. You take it, grasping it tightly as you lift your leg, pushing through the soreness, you get inside and let the warmth embrace your aching body. You sink down into the water, sighing in contentment at the comforting feeling. You slowly let go of his hand, and bring it up to your hair.

“Oh wait, you probably don’t want to get it wet again,” Steve mumbles, as he looks around the room, knowing that you left your hair clip here after your shower last night. He finds it on the counter and reaches for it.

“Oh yeah,” you nod, turning your head, you eye the claw clip in his hand and lift your hand up to take it from him, but Steve only shakes his head.

“Let me,” he whispers as he kneels down behind the bathtub, he gathers your hair and runs his fingers through it, making sure to get all of it, his fingertips touch your cheeks as he reaches for the front pieces as well, only for them to fall back in place.

You swallow harshly as your heart nearly leaps to your throat, his actions making the water feel ten times hotter, goosebumps growing on your skin even beneath it.

“Are you hungry?” He asks, his breath hitting your bare shoulder as he puts your hair up and secures it with the clip – effortlessly.

You’re a little caught off guard by… well everything.

“I-I…” You stutter, unable to form a word, let alone a sentence.

“I’ll go make you something,” he announces, squeezing your shoulders as he gets up again. He looks down at you, lips curling into a smile. You’re still sitting with your back straight, your body now hidden beneath the bubbles, the front pieces of your hair hanging loosely in front of your face, framing it perfectly. You are staring at him, eyes filled with surprise and nervousness. The latter emotion matches his own, he had never done these things for anyone before, not even Nancy.

She was his high school sweetheart, they were barely eighteen when they dated. She wasn’t allowed to stay over, and the few times she sneaked out of her house to do so, she went back home early in the mornings so she wouldn’t get caught, but he could count these few times on one hand.

He never prepared baths for her, he never did her hair, he never made her breakfast, he never touched and kissed her the way he did with you.

And despite the nervousness that is deep inside, he can’t help but feel a little giddy too. Heat rushes to his cheeks the longer he stares at you.

“Okay,” you whisper, blushing as you look up at him with a shy smile, “thank you, Steve.”

He nods at you, his own cheeks glowing with color, “you’re welcome, Blondie,” he winks at you, before he forces himself away from you. He turns around and walks out of the bathroom.

You stare at the door he just closed, your mouth ajar, your eyes wide.

Are you truly awake?

When he held you in his car last night, and he treated you so gently, you were already so caught off guard, but this, this is something else, this is something new, and you don’t know what to think of it.

You don’t want to get your hopes up, but you also don’t want to ruin the moment by overthinking, and hurting your own feelings.

So despite the gnawing feeling in your chest, you take a deep breath and close your eyes, you relax your shoulders and lean back, trying to enjoy this moment without your doubts getting in the way.

You breathe in the sweet scent and sink deeper into the hot water, relaxing as best as you can as you let your mind rest. You let the minutes pass, and enjoy only this moment, not letting your negativenss take over.

Your teenage self would jump and scream in joy if she saw you now.

Not only does he somewhat like you now, he also does things only a boyfriend would and should do, and you can’t help but love every second of it, even when the dark sadness tries to cast shadows over the golden lights that take over, every time you let yourself feel what you desire, deep down.

The water feels nice on your skin, and on your sore body, you almost don’t want to get out, but after a while, your tiredness seeps back in, and you begrudgingly push yourself out of the water, you wrap a towel around your body, and dry yourself off. You drain the bathtub and slide open the window to let some fresh air in, the fog from the heat lingering in the room and on the large mirror.

When you step out into the hallway, your mouth waters and you instantly feel the hollowness in your stomach when the smell of waffles reaches you. You haven’t eaten since your late lunch, the day before, and Steve had worn you out. You are starving.

You quickly make your way into his bedroom, surprised to see the bed already made.

He laid out some clothes for you, another one of his shirts and a pair of his boxers. A smile tugs at your lips, you hold the towel tightly against your chest as you make your way over to his bed. You remove the claw clip from your hair, and throw it on the mattress as you reach for his shirt.

It smells nice, clean, like fresh laundry detergent and still like him. Your heart always skips a beat when you wear something that belongs to him. Removing the towel, you put his shirt on and then his boxers, adjusting them a little so they fit you better. You walk over to his mirror, and take a look at yourself, a gasp nearly falling from your lips as you eye the marks on your neck, somehow they have gotten even darker. You will have trouble covering that up.

You fix your hair and smooth it out, before you leave the room and make your way towards the stairs. You truly underestimated the ache in your legs though, the moment you take the first step down, your knee nearly buckles, causing you to hold onto the railing a little tighter.

You don’t know how you make it to the kitchen, but after walking down in slow motion, you step into the large room slowly.

Steve is standing with his back to you, a plate of waffles before him as he pours batter into the waffle maker. He changed into a pair of gray sweatpants.

Your stomach growls at the sight and the smell of your favorite breakfast food.

He turns around when he sees you from his peripheral vision, a chuckle falling from his lips when he notices the pained look on your face.

“I need a break of two days,” you grumble as you make your way over to the kitchen table, “I’m not even going to suck your dick, your hand will suffice.”

Steve chuckles even louder than before, the smugness in his eyes fading away when he takes in the sight of his clothes on your body.

You groan loudly as you take a seat.

“Two days?” He asks, tilting his head at you, “you’re killing me here, Blondie.”

You raise your head and meet his gaze, glaring at him playfully, “my pussy feels like it’s going to fall off, Harrington.”

He looks down, hiding the smirk on his face, “she had a good time.”

You can’t help but snort.

You crane your neck, looking at the plate before him, excitement flashes in your eyes, “I love waffles.”

“I know you do,” he says, smiling. “What do you want with them, berries and syrup?”

You try to hide the blush that creeps up on your face, you try to swallow the feelings that take control of your body.

"Yes, please."

He nods at you, before he points at the coffee pot, “want some?”

“Mhmm. Creamer and two sugars–”

“I know how you like your coffee, Blondie.”

He doesn’t wait for your reaction, he turns his back to you, and he opens the cupboard, taking out the mug he for some reason always chooses for you, he places it on the counter and starts preparing your coffee.

You blink.

Straightening your back, you place your hands on the counter, fiddling with your fingers as you watch him.

He memorized how you like your coffee?

The fluttering in your chest starts driving you crazy, it’s nothing you’re not used to, but his kindness and the gentleness he treats you with this morning takes everything beyond what you had felt before.

A part of you wants to ask him if he hit his head, if he is mistaking you for someone else, or if the sex was so good that he somehow developed more than just lust for you.

But you don’t want to ruin the moment and risk losing this.

If you were a different girl, you could have this every day.

But you’re you, and you only get this now, maybe it’s a one time thing, or maybe it’s something new in your ‘relationship’, and if it is, you will cherish any moment he will give you, for as long as he is willing to have you.

Steve places the mug in front of you, blessing you with a sweet smile before he returns to finish the rest of the waffles as he pours the last of the batter into the maker.

“Thanks,” you mumble, wrapping your hands around the warm mug, you raise it up to your lips and take a sip.

Steve grabs a plate and begins to fill it up with fruit he already washed and prepared. He places the fresh waffles on the plate and grabs the bottle of syrup, he makes his way over to you, and places the plate in front of you.

You put the mug down and raise your head to look at him, “that looks so good,” you smile, pulling the plate closer and reaching for the fork.

Steve smiles back at you, his chest bubbling with something at the excitement in your features.

He places the syrup in front of you, and returns to the counter to fill up his own plate with berries and waffles. He grabs it and reaches for a jar in his cupboard before he makes his way back to you and joins you at the round table.

“That’s all for you, Blondie.” He points at the stacked up waffles he left on the counter.

“All for me?” You chuckle, before you take the first bite, eying the jar of nutella he placed on the table.

“Gotta get the energy back in you,” he smirks, watching your reaction as you start chewing. He licks his lip, smiling when your eyes widen.

“Oh my god, Steve.” You hold your hand in front of your mouth after swallowing the first bite, looking at him in awe.

“That’s how you sounded last night,” he wiggles his eyebrows.

You shake your head as you look into his hazel eyes, smirking at him despite the flustered look on your face, “I think the waffles are better.”

He raises his eyebrows at you, “oh?”

You nod, taking another bite.

He chuckles at you as he grabs the nutella, he opens the lid and picks up his butterknife. Scooping out some of the chocolate, he starts spreading it on his waffle.

“You eat your waffles with nutella?”

“Yeah, it tastes amazing, Blondie.”

“Does it?” You ask, tilting your head as you pop a berry into your mouth, you watch him. His brows furrow in concentration and his tongue pokes out between his lips. His hair is messy, slightly wavy even. He looks so cute like this. “I’ve never tried that before.”

He raises his head, looking at you in surprise, “you haven’t?”

You shake your head, “no, I don’t even remember the last time I had nutella, Eddie ate like the whole jar I had in my kitchen, he used it as a dip for his pretzels,” you chuckle, “and then he ate the rest with a spoon… I don’t know how he didn’t get sick.”

“Eddie could eat straight sugar, and he wouldn’t get sick, don’t know how he’s still healthy,” Steve chuckles as he cuts a piece of his waffle, he places a raspberry on top of it before he picks it up with a fork and surprises you yet again, when he offers you the bite, bringing the fork up to your mouth.

You nearly choke on the berry you just swallowed.

“Try it.”

Blood rushes to your cheeks, and your heart nearly shoots out from its place.

He surely had never done anything like this before.

Ordering food and offering snacks after sex? Sure. Feeding you food from his plate? Never.

He looks at you expectedly, not even noticing just how flustered you are by such a small and simple action.

You blink, shaking off the nervousness that still lingers deep, you part your lips and lean closer to take the bite, you still look at his eyes and watch how he stares at your lips.

The sweetness of the waffle, the chocolate and the freshness of the berry, burst in your mouth, creating the perfect combination. Your eyes widen, and you sit back as you hold your hand in front of your mouth after releasing the fork from your lips. You moan at the taste and take your time savoring the flavors.

Steve’s lips curl into a smile, his soft eyes stare at you as he brings the fork back to his place, taking a bite of his food as well, he keeps his eyes locked on you, enjoying your presence more than ever, this morning.

Steve always eats his breakfast by himself, it has always been that way.

The few times his parents were home, they didn’t even bother to have family breakfasts, or dinner’s for that matter.

They would go out to have dinner at Enzo’s, and would leave a few dollar bills for him, so he could order takeout – as though he didn’t learn to cook for himself as a teenage boy, but his parents never knew that, and they still don’t. He hadn’t seen them in a while, and the last phone call must’ve been months back.

But he likes this, he likes having you around, he likes sitting at the kitchen table with you, like it’s the most normal thing for the both of you.

“Not to feed your ego, but these waffles are better than the ones at the diner… or even the ones my sister makes.”

He smiles at you, “really?”

“Mhmm,” you nod as you take a sip of your coffee.

“I uh, I tried a few different recipes, took me some time to find the perfect one,” he says, his smile now turning into a shy one, “one time, El showed up, she was all upset about something Mike said or did, poor girl was crying her eyes out. I was confused why she came here out of all places and I honestly didn’t know how to comfort a heartbroken teenage girl, but uh, all it took was some waffles to cheer her up,” he chuckles, scratching the back of his neck.

Your eyes soften, and your heart nearly bursts.

The teens have found a brother in him, and he takes care of them without hesitating to.

He is there for them when they need him, and despite the annoyance he feigns sometimes, he cares so much about them and would do anything to protect them from any kind of harm.

“That’s so sweet,” you whisper, smiling softly.

Steve blushes at your words, his own lips pulling into a soft smile.

“You’re such a mom,” you tease him, nudging your foot against his under the table.

“Last time I checked, I didn’t have a vagina. I think you know that fact pretty well.”

You giggle, and look down at your plate again, picking up the fork, you continue to eat your waffle, unaware of the softness in his eyes.

Steve’s lip twitches, he tries not to look at you for too long, but it gets difficult to keep his eyes off of you, because something in his chest, something in the very sacred spot he had been trying to keep safe opens just the slightest bit, light and warmth seeps into it, filling it with life again, making it move in a pace he had grown unfamiliar to.

The sun shines brightly into the window, light rays hit your skin perfectly, making your skin glow and your hair shine, the color in your eyes shining even brighter.

You sit across from him comfortably, eating the breakfast he made for you, happily. You look content, you look happy to be here, you look like you belong here, with him.

This feels comforting, this feels normal.

But it isn’t, this isn’t normal, and he can’t help but feel disappointed by the truth.

He looks down with a soft sigh, and continues eating too, trying to keep the negative thoughts and emotions at bay, not wanting anything to ruin the moment.

Steve keeps stealing glances at you, not noticing that you are doing the same, not feeling your eyes that always linger.

When you’re both done eating, you push yourself up from the chair, ignoring his confused looks, you gather the empty dishes and stack them up.

“Whoa, no no, put that down,” Steve shakes his head at you, he gets up as well, the chair scraping against the hardwood floor, “you’re my guest, you don’t have to clean.”

“Pfft.” You wave him off, carrying the plates over to the sink, you push through the soreness in your legs, “I want to help.”

Steve sighs behind you, “I can do it myself, you should rest your legs.”

“I’m fine, Steve.”

Steve rolls his eyes, putting his hands on his hips as he watches you.

You get the sponge and dish soap, and Steve nearly starts laughing when you tilt your head away and handle the lever carefully, opening the water slowly, clearly not wanting a repeat of the last time you washed the dishes here.

“I fixed the lever, don’t worry,” he chuckles.

“If you’re lying to me and I’m about to get wet again, I’m gonna fight you.”

Steve laughs, crossing his arms over his chest, “I got different methods of getting you wet now.”

You look back at him over your shoulder, giving him a glare.

He continues laughing, tearing his eyes away from you, he starts cleaning up the table, a smile lingering on his lips.

Comfortable silence hangs over the room, as you both move around the kitchen and clean up together.

You savor every moment with him, not knowing that he is doing the same now too.

“I owe you breakfast,” you speak up, after a while.

Steve wipes down the counter, glancing at you with raised brows, “I won’t say no to that, but you don’t owe me anything, I wanted to do this.”

You press your lips together, leaning against the counter behind you, “yeah, but still.”

He shakes his head with a smile, “nah, let me impress you with all my cooking skills first,” he smirks, making his way over to you, he throws the dish towel over his shoulder, “I can blow your mind with more than just sex.”

You furrow your brows, laughing at his words.

“Oh?” You tilt your head, “and where’d you learn how to cook?”

“My grandpa taught me some Italian dishes when he was still alive. And uh, my parents were never home and I got sick of eating pizza and burgers all the time, so I got myself a cookbook and uh, turns out I’m a pretty decent cook,” he chuckles, shrugging, “it’s the italian in me,” he jokes.

Your eyes widen and you stand up straighter as you walk towards him.

“You’re italian?”

He chuckles at the surprised look on your face.

“My dad’s side of the family is,” he explains.

“Huh, that’s where the charm comes from,” you joke, “can you speak Italian?”

“I’m sorry to disappoint, but the only thing Italian about me are my relatives,” he laughs.

“And your cooking skills,” you point out.

“And my cooking skills,” he smiles, nodding. “I’m gonna knock you off your feet, the next time you stay over, I’ll cook you the best pasta you ever had.”

Excitement bubbles in your stomach and your eyes light up. You can’t even push away the feelings inside of you.

“I’d like that,” you smile.

Steve’s eyes light up, his own smile growing.

“Yeah?”

You nod, swallowing the nervousness inside of you. You know that you shouldn’t get too close, that there are things that you shouldn’t do with him, knowing how it’ll end for you, but you can’t help it, you’re drawn to him, in every way and form.

“Cool, I can finally cook for someone other than the teens then,” he chuckles, as he steps closer to you, his hands now inching closer to yours on the counter.

“What about your parents? Do you cook for them when they’re home?”

Steve scoffs, and he rolls his eyes at the mention of them.

“No, even when they’re home, they aren’t really… home. That one time I tried to cook dinner for them, they ended up leaving on me, gave me some weak apology and told me that they had made plans with friends already.”

Your smile falls at his words. Your eyes soften and the aching in your chest returns, not for yourself this time, but for him.

You can’t imagine what it’s like to have parents that couldn’t care less about you. You don’t have yours anymore either, but only because they were taken from you, they always gave you love, they always cared for you. Steve’s parents are alive, and they want nothing to do with him, they don’t even know half of the things he’s been through.

“I haven’t seen them in a while, it’s nothing new, really. And things are different now, for me at least. But, I felt really alone in this house as a teen,” he explains, looking down. “Sometimes… they were gone for so long, that I even forgot what their voices sound like.”

You look into his eyes, into the sadness that lingers deep in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Steve,” you whisper, wanting nothing more than to hug him, to hold him, to show him that there is someone who he means everything to. Your own sadness casts a shadow over you, but also the anger that you feel for the people who hurt him, that left him. How could they? How could they leave and abandon him? How could they not love him, when he is so easy to love?

You would give him everything if you could.

He scrunches his brows together, forcing a smile onto his lips as he shakes his head at you, “it’s okay,” he murmurs. “I-I accepted that they don’t care about me. I just uh, my dad’s words still hurt sometimes but uh, I’m pretty good at handling my emotions around him now,” he admits, feeling the weight on his shoulders falling off when he says these words out loud, “he’s good at making me feel like I’m nothing though,” he chuckles even though there is nothing amusing about that.

Your blood boils in your veins, your heart no longer beats softly in your chest. You feel the anger rushing through you, as you stare at the man in front of you, a man who was once a boy, left behind to fend for himself, left behind in this huge house that provided no comfort when he needed it, no love, no warmth, no one to hug him and tell him just how loved he is, how strong and brave he is for going through darkness.

He stepped into an empty house after fighting against evil.

He stepped into an empty house after getting his heart broken.

He had no one to come home to.

He had no one to greet him with open arms and a warm meal, a shoulder to cry on, an ear to listen.

And when they were there for once, he probably thought that walking into an empty house would’ve been better.

He is surprised to see the anger in your eyes, the downturned lips and the frown on your pretty face.

“It’s not okay,” you shake your head stubbornly, “they shouldn’t have left you, and they shouldn’t have treated you like that, they– they don’t deserve you,” you mumble and tilt your head down to hide the truth in your face, too scared that he will see right through you in this moment of weakness. “Your dad doesn’t deserve you, none of the people who hurt you do.”

Steve’s hazel eyes soften, his lips part, but no words come out.

He knows that your words are mainly about his family, but also about someone else who hurt him deeply, who left a huge wound in his heart, a mark that hasn’t faded yet.

There is a sense of vulnerability behind your voice, something that he only heard once, when you opened up to him, that one night. He watches the way you hide your face by keeping your eyes on the ground, but even then, he can see just how angry you are, and it makes him furrow his brows in confusion.

Why would you be so upset by him getting hurt?

Why would you care so much when you’re nothing but friends now?

“You’re–” you pause, as a shaky breath falls from your lips, and you slowly look up at him, staring into his soft eyes. You feel nervous to even utter the words that are about to come out of your mouth, but this doesn’t have to give away anything, this is you being a caring friend. “You’re too good for them, Steve, and you deserve so much better than what you’ve been given.”

His breath hitches in his throat, his eyes begin to burn as he takes in your words, he blinks and swallows harshly, trying to keep his calmness, when your eyes meet his again and he sees nothing but the truth in them. You weren’t just saying this to make him feel better, you weren’t trying to give him false comfort.

Now he is the one to hide his face from you, not wanting to show just how much you have touched his feelings. Your words cast a light over the deep lingering pain in his chest, he knows it won’t stay there forever, the light, but it’s enough to make his walls crumble.

In this very moment, Steve’s feelings go beyond desire, and he feels a longing of a different kind, one that he had never felt before, and it scares him, because it’s you, it’s still you. And yet, he can’t help but want to let himself fall into your arms, feeling like it could be a place of comfort and more.

And he wants to, he really wants to, but he can’t.

This isn’t a part of the deal.

He can’t hold you, he can’t find comfort in your arms, this isn’t what it’s supposed to be.

So, despite the longing in his chest, the deep feeling in him, the want and need to do something, he blinks out of his stupor, shaking away all the thoughts and feelings, he pulls his hand away from yours that he almost touched, he looks at you again, and gives you a small smile.

“Thank you, Blondie,” he whispers, “I appreciate that.”

I appreciate you.

“Don’t need to thank me, Steve,” you whisper.

You look over his shoulder, the clock on his wall almost startling you when you read the time.

“Oh wow, I uh, I should go home,” you mumble, not wanting to leave, but not wanting to stay longer and risking losing your dignity by revealing more than just your anger for the people who harmed his feelings.

You don’t notice the way his shoulders slump, the way he almost looks sad at your words.

“Yeah uh, I’ll drive you.”

“It’s fine, I can walk–”

He snorts and tilts his head at you, eyes flashing with amusement again, “can you?”

A laugh falls from your lips, you step away from him, rolling your eyes as you shake your head.

“Come on,” he places his hand on your shoulder, and he leads you out into the hallway.

“Are you still hosting movie night?”

“Uh huh. So, I guess you’re staying another night here,” he winks at you, squeezing your arm.

“I told you, I need some time to recover.”

“We don’t have to fuck, Blondie. You can let me eat your pussy though, it’ll help her recover.”

You scrunch your face up at his words, slapping his chest, you take a step away from him, “I never thought that you’d be such a perv.”

He chuckles behind you.

You look around his hallway, tucking your hair behind your ears, you furrow your brows, “wait, I don’t have shoes.”

“Yeah, we left them in the car last night,” Steve mumbles as he puts on his Nike's, “don’t think they’d suit that outfit very well anyways,” he laughs, pointing at his clothes on your body.

You pout as you turn around to face him, looking down at yourself, “wow, this is the real walk of shame.”

Steve’s eyes crinkle as he laughs again. He picks up his keys, and walks towards you, turning his back to you, he bends down, “hop on, princess.”

You purse your lips and stare at him with widened eyes.

The nickname might’ve been a mocking one, and yet it did everything to make your cheeks heat up and your stomach to make summersaults.

“Well, come on,” Steve waves his hand at you, motioning for you to get on his back.

You swallow and step closer, you slowly bring your hands up to his shoulders, sliding your palms down his chest, you make a little jump and bite back the groan that threatens to fall from your lips, the soreness in your legs seemingly getting worse and worse.

Steve grabs your thighs and rises back to full height, his lips curl into a smile when you wrap your legs around his waist.

“Good?” He asks, squeezing your thigh.

“Mhmm.”

“Good,” he nods.

He opens the door, and steps out, keeping his left hand on your thigh, he reaches his right hand out to shut the door.

“I got it,” you mumble, reaching for the doorknob, you close it as you keep your hold on him.

The summer breeze feels welcoming on your skin, the smell of flowers and grass lingers in the air. You look up and find no cloud in the sky, only the blue and bright sun.

Goosebumps arise on his skin where your breath hits his neck, his stomach fluttering when you tighten your legs around him.

He almost doesn’t want to let you go, but the journey to his car is a short one. He walks over to the drivers side first, unlocking it with his key before he makes his way over to the passenger side, he opens the door for you.

“Can’t remember the last time I gave someone a piggyback ride,” he chuckles, “probably when I was twelve, my little cousin would beg me for them.”

You giggle, squeezing his shoulder as he kneels down and steps closer to his car, so your feet won’t have to touch the rough ground.

“Well, I’m glad to be the first after so long,” you chuckle, you let go of him and place your hand on the head rest.

“Careful with your head,” Steve says with a soft voice as he puts you down.

You pull your legs back and scoot back, placing your feet down into the car.

“Okay, I’m good, thank you.”

Steve turns to face you, “ready to go?”

You nod.

“Alright, Blondie,” he gives you a tight lipped smile and taps the roof of his car before he closes the door.

You reach for the seatbelt, buckling it in as you take a deep breath, though instead of exhaling again, you freeze and your eyes widen. The smell of sex still lingers deeply in the car.

Blood rushes to your cheeks, the anger you felt in the kitchen only moments ago, now fading and transforming into embarrassment as you grow flustered.

You turn around and take a look at the backseats, the mess that you both left behind, only making you blush even deeper.

Steve gets into the driver's seat, jingling with the keys, he puts them into the ignition and fastens his seatbelt, before he glances at you.

You play with your fingers, coughing awkwardly as you look at anything but him. You are blushing.

It doesn’t take him long to realize why you are so flustered, and he can’t help but smirk at you. He grabs the steering wheel, and leans closer to you.

“Getting shy on me now?”

With narrowed eyes, you turn towards him as you cross your arms over your chest.

“Couldn’t you have taken five minutes to clean up a bit?”

His smirk only widens, eyes flashing with pride.

“You needed a shower and a bed, priorities Blondie,” he shrugs.

“Uh huh…” You turn around again, daring to take another glance at the mess, “also, my thong should be somewhere around here… You literally dragged me inside, full commando.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll find your thong,” he chuckles, starting the car, he rolls down the window.

“You better, Lego Head.”

You relax into the seat, and turn your head away from him, looking out the window, you appreciate the warm feeling of the sun on your skin, and the sound of music filling the space between you.

Hungry like the wolf starts playing, and you almost want to chuckle at the irony – the song resembles the part of Steve you met last night.

“Always some Duran Duran song in your car.”

Steve nods, placing his hand on the back of your headrest, he looks over his shoulder as he backs out of his driveway. He glances at you with a grin, “yep, they’re great.”

He gives you a wink as he turns up the volume, he grabs the gearstick, and starts driving down the road, puckering his lips slightly as he starts headbanging along to the music, not bothering to move the hair out of his face when it falls in front of his eyes.

You can’t help but giggle when he starts singing along to the music.

Your heart flutters wildly, and you bite down on your lip as you watch him.

You realize something in this moment – his guard is down, right here, right now, he lets you have a glimpse of what he is like, when he’s relaxed, when he’s not hiding himself away from the world, when he isn’t too ashamed to show this side of him. He is willing to show a part of himself to you – someone he couldn’t even bare to be around, only months back.

And you cherish this moment, smiling brightly at the person you adore with all your heart.

You know that you will remember this, you just hope that it won’t be a painful memory.

You don’t want to get out of the car when he parks it in front of your house, you would love to keep driving around town with him, even without talking, you just want to be near him, you want to be with him, any moment he gives you with him.

But you have to go, and knowing that you will see him again later, brings you peace.

You see the way he looks at your lips when you say goodbye, you see the way his eyes flash with something your mind cannot comprehend yet, you see the way he lifts his hand up before he hesitates and wraps it around the steering wheel again. You see it all, and yet, you are still so blind about it.

He offers you another piggyback ride to your house, but you decline with a smile and give him one last goodbye before you get out of his car, and your bare feet touch the cobblestone. You bite back the groan, ignoring the pain in your legs, you shut the door and start walking, not feeling, not seeing his amused eyes as they follow your limping legs.

You make your way up to your porch, and unlock the door. You step inside and turn around.

Steve’s car is still parked in your driveway, his left arm hanging out of the window, he lifts his hand up, waving at you.

A smile tugs at your lips, he waited for you to get inside. You lift your hand up as well, waving back.

The moment he starts backing out of your driveway, you close the door and lean your back against it, not noticing the breath you are holding.

You press your palm against your racing heart, and let all your emotions run through you, as your mind races with thoughts about everything that happened this morning and the night before.

You’re caught in a storm of your own feelings, you don’t even know what to feel, at this very moment.

There are so many things to process.

Steve’s jealousy and how he reacted to Jacob.

The possessiveness he had felt over you, and how eager he was to prove to you that he is the only one that you need.

The gentleness that followed after, that followed into this morning, even.

He trusted you enough to talk about his parents, to open up about his loneliness and the sadness that still lingers.

You bury your face in your hands, and let out a loud sigh as you feel sadness and anger combining themselves inside of you.

You throw your head back against the door, and you take another deep breath.

You need to rest, not only your mind, but also your aching body, so you push yourself away from the door, and take a look at the stairs, frowning at the many steps you would have to take to get to your bedroom.

You choose the closer room, and make your way into the living room instead.

The big couch looks welcoming, the comforting pillows luring you in for a nap. You glance at the clock on the wall, it’s only 3pm, you still have time before you need to start getting ready.

Grabbing the remote, you turn on the TV, and plop down on the couch, sinking into the pillows and hoping for your mind to give you some rest, at least until you see him again.

You put on some show to watch, but your eyes don’t stay focused for long, sleep begins to lull you in, putting both your mind and body at rest as your eyes slowly close.

You end up running late, because of your stupid decision not to set an alarm – and because you may or may not have used your sweet time getting ready, always wanting to look perfect for him, always wanting to smell good and your skin to be smooth.

You also needed some time to figure out how to cover the marks up on your neck, which turned out to be a challenge. Foundation and concealer lies on your skin now, and yet you can still see through it.

Steve greets you with a smug smile and a wink, he eyes you up and down hungrily before he lets you in, not even questioning why you’re an hour late, the tiredness in your eyes is a dead giveaway.

The smell of smoke lingers in his house, the door to his backyard is wide open, and you find Eddie standing behind Steve’s grill, talking to Jonathan and Nancy.

You hear Robin’s and Argyle’s voices coming from the kitchen, but the sight of the teens is missing.

“What happened to movie night?” You ask, and turn to face him, “and where are the teens?”

“They canceled on us,” Steve chuckles, looking around the empty hallway, before he steps closer to you, “some movie came out that they really wanted to see.”

“Oh–”

Steve wraps his arm around your waist, surprising you by pulling you into his chest, he slides his palm down your lower back.

Your eyes widen a little as you look into his, the smell of his cologne lingering on him and his clothes, his hair is perfectly styled again – perfect to be ruined by your hands.

“Steve,” you whisper as your cheeks heat up.

“Are you feeling okay, Blondie?” He asks, hand coming to a rest over the pockets on your jean shorts.

No, no you don’t feel okay when he does things like this.

“Mhmm,” you nod.

The look in his eyes is a smug one, his lips are curled into a satisfied smirk when he takes a look at your neck – his touches and glances are already setting your skin on fire, and you have only arrived.

His hand leaves your body, and he steps away from you when the sound of footsteps near the hallway.

You clear your throat, and turn your face away from him, just as Robin comes out of the kitchen, plates and glasses. Her eyes light up at the sight of you.

“Oh, hey!” She grins at you, “are you feeling better today?”

You nod, feeling bad about lying to your friends – but when have you ever been honest?

“Much better.”

“Good, I’m glad,” she nods, “we decided to do a barbecue instead of movie night, so I hope you’re hungry.”

“Very, I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

Steve smiles beside you – something that Robin doesn’t notice, despite the very deep curiosity that still lingers inside of her when it comes to Steve’s secret.

“Come on, we set everything up already,” Steve says with a soft voice as he gestures to the backyard.

“Yeah, Argyle is attempting to make cocktails.”

You give them both an apologetic smile, “I’m sorry I didn’t help, I passed out on the couch earlier and forgot to set an alarm.”

“Nah, it’s fine, Blondie. You needed your rest,” Steve mumbles, giving you a sly smirk that he hides from his best friend.

“Yeah, and we had enough hands to help out!” Robin smiles, “it was spontaneous anyways!”

She is so unaware of the meaning behind Steve’s words, and you are glad that she is.

“I’ll make sure to make it up with some dessert next time,” you chuckle.

You all step out into his backyard, the evening sun is hidden behind all the trees surrounding his backyard. The round table is almost fully set up with food, the mouth watering smell of barbecue makes your stomach growl.

Robin places the drinks on the table.

Steve taps your shoulder, and he leans closer to you, “take a seat, your legs are still shaky,” he teases, giving you a wink before he steps away from you, “I’m gonna get the drinks, I’ll be right back.”

You breathe in shakily.

You already know that Steve will tease the life out of you tonight.

And you don’t know if you have the strength to tease him back at all.

“Oh hello there, sweetheart.” Eddie grins at you, making his way over as he carries the tray of grilled meat, he walks past you and places it on the table, before he turns back to you.

“Hey, Eddie,” you smile as you eye his hair, he put it up today.

“How are you?” He asks, tilting his head.

You don’t know what it is, but something about his smile and the look on his face, is almost a little unsettling.

“I’m uh… I’m good, how are you?”

“Mhmm, I’m good too. You know, I was kinda worried about you, last night. You just disappeared.”

Guilt settles into the pit of your stomach, and you break eye contact, hating that you have to lie to your best friend just to keep him.

“Yeah uh, I’m sorry,” you mumble, scrunching your nose, “I-I was feeling sick, Steve drove me home.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows, “ah Steve, huh?”

You swallow, the nervousness inside of you growing.

“Yeah,” you nod, and look back at him.

A knowing look resides in his dark eyes, he squints them a little, like he always does when he tries to look into your mind.

And there is something else, something that makes you feel exposed and vulnerable, you don’t know what it is, but it does nothing to ease the nervousness inside of you.

Maybe you’re looking too deeply into something that isn’t even there.

Maybe you just try to focus on something other than your troubled feelings.

Or maybe, you’re just overthinking because you are so scared of getting caught, knowing that things will end, the moment everything is out in the open.

But, Eddie eases your mind a little, when the playfulness returns in his eyes, “I just don’t want Steve to steal my best friend.”

You nearly breathe out a sigh of relief, you laugh and shake your head, “don’t worry, Lego head’s got nothing on you.”

“Exactly, we’re best friends forever,” he grins, throwing his arm around you, “we should get matching bracelets.”

You snort.

“So everyone knows that I got the coolest best friend.”

“Sure, Eddie,” you chuckle, patting his back as he leads you to the table, and you both join Robin, taking the seats beside her.

She’s holding a bottle of ketchup, a concentrated look resting in her eyes as she reads through the ingredient list.

“Wow, do you guys wanna know what’s in this?” She asks, looking between you and Eddie.

He furrows his brows, and scratches the back of his neck, “uh, not really,” he mumbles, giving her a weird look, before he glances at you, causing you to chuckle again.

Nancy and Jonathan greet you, she gives you a kind smile, while Jonathan gives you a lazy one and a very slurred ‘hello’.

Your eyes follow Steve’s, once he and Argyle step out of the house, and join you all at the table.

Steve takes the seat next to Eddie, and you can’t help but turn your head to look at him, though your eyes get stuck on something else – the bright pink scrunchie that holds Eddie’s curls together. It looks like one of yours, one that has gone missing, only days after you bought it on your first shopping trip with Nancy.

She has the same one, only a different color, but hers is in her hair, and yours is… in Eddie’s hair.

“You stole my scrunchie!” You gasp, frowning at Eddie, who’s in the middle of filling his plate with food.

He glances at you with an amused look in his eyes.

“Oops,” he shrugs, grinning.

“You thief!”

“Well, you have my bandana! I get to have something of yours!”

“My pink polka dot scrunchie? That’s what you chose!?”

He chuckles and nods, “yes, and it gives an edge to my outfit, don’t you think?”

Your lips curl into a smile, you roll your eyes at your best friend.

“Uh oh, first fight between the best friends!” Argyle jokes, “gotta bring out the palmtree delight, my friends!” He picks out a joint from his pocket.

Steve laughs at Argyle, and at your interaction with Eddie. He leans back to look at the pink scrunchie in his hair, furrowing his brows, he shrugs at him, “I think it suits you.”

“Thanks Harrington, I’m glad that one of my friends thinks so.”

Robin clears her throat, tilting her head at him, “Eddie, it’s– it’s pink and well–”

Eddie presses his palm against his chest, glancing at her with offense on his face, “are you telling me that I can’t wear pink, Buckley?” He gasps, closing his eyes, “that is absolute discrimination.”

You laugh at his dramatic words, you lean closer to him and place your hand on his shoulder, “it’s okay, Eddie. You can keep it.”

He drops his act, and opens his eyes again, giving you a smile, “well thanks, sweetheart, I promise, I won’t leave it laying around somewhere.” He winks at you, and glances at Steve, for a very brief moment.

The night goes on, the way it normally does, you fall into conversations, you eat and drink, you laugh and share stories.

The longing feeling in your chest always stays, and your eyes keep moving back to him, it isn’t anything you aren’t used to, and sometimes it’s even a pleasant feeling when you find him looking back at you.

But you also cherish these moments, spending time with people you can now call friends. A circle you never thought, would even be possible for you to have.

The Upside Down is now in the past, the events from the horrific night, now long gone – and yet, you all still stick to the weekly group hangouts.

It has become something very important to all of you – this friend group has become something so special. And you love it, but it scares you, it scares you so very deeply, because of the someone that holds your heart in the palm of his hand.

You know that you will lose them, that you will lose this, that you won’t have this group of friends forever, no matter how much you would like it to stay a part of your life.

The moment this thing between you and Steve will be over, you won’t only lose him, you will also lose them, and that realization feels like a punch to your gut.

You have no family, you’ve been alone for years now, and it has been the worst years of your life, you were lonely and hurting deep inside, but the past few weeks, have been one of the best ones, you have never felt more alive, more happy, despite the sadness that always looms over your heart.

But the happiness isn’t here to stay, it’s only temporary, it’s only here for the moment, it’s only here for as long as he is willing to keep you.

The moment he closes the door, you will be left a worse mess than ever before.

Eddie watches you.

Eddie watches as you move around Steve’s kitchen as though it’s your own, cleaning plates and putting them away, while Steve is wiping down the table outside.

Everyone has left, everyone except for you and him.

He is sipping on his coke, his eyes not straying away from you as he watches curiously.

Steve walks back inside, he shuts the sliding door and turns off the lights in the backyard, before he joins you both in the kitchen. He glances at him as he brushes past him, carrying the last two glasses, he places his hand on your shoulder as he puts them into the skin.

“Eddie, you uh, you don’t have to stay back and clean,” Steve mumbles, turning back to him.

Eddie chuckles.

“Clean? Just want to stay a bit longer with my friends,” he shrugs, looking back at you, “with my best friend in particular.”

He sees the way you freeze, the way you slowly turn back to him with a frown on your face.

“What?”

He puts down his drink, and gets up from the barstool.

Without a single word, he motions for you both to follow him, unable to keep things to himself any longer.

You both hesitate, but follow him, after a moment, giving each other confused looks when he leads you upstairs and into Steve’s bedroom.

He stops in the middle of the dark room, Steve switches the light on, and he shakes his head at the metalhead, pure confusion takes over his face when Eddie smiles smugly at the both of you.

“See… I lied a little bit before,” he starts, taking a deep breath, “I didn’t steal your scrunchie.”

Eddie almost wants to laugh at the comical frown on your face, and how you throw your hand up to point at his hair, while Steve looks at you.

“What the fuck do you mean!? It’s in your hair, Eddie!”

He nods, scoffing slightly as he starts to take it out, letting his hair fall loose around his face, “well you see, I didn’t steal it, rather, I found it. Right–” He pauses as he walks over further into Steve’s room, turning away from the both of you, he slams the scrunchie on the dresser and turns back, the smile now missing, “--Here.”

You freeze, completely.

You don’t even feel the fear rushing through you, or the shock that grips at your body, you stare at Eddie dumbfounded.

The feelings inside of you earlier, weren’t for nothing, after all.

He knows.

He knows everything.

He found out about you both, he found out because you weren’t careful, because you were dumb, because you made a stupid mistake.

Steve blinks.

Blood rushes to his cheeks and raises his hands up at Eddie, shaking his head, “okay listen, this isn’t–”

Eddie raises his eyebrows at him, and somehow that’s enough to make Steve shut up – for a second.

Steve huffs, lowering his hands to his hips, he takes a deep breath.

“We are not – look, this is just coincidence.”

“Right!” Eddie spits in a rough voice, nearly yelling as he glares at the both of you, “like the coincidence of you two not being able to hang out at the same time on some nights where we are all together? Coincidence of you–” he points an angry finger at you, “having hickeys all over you, and you–” he moves his attention on Steve, “having scratches on your fucking arms and back!”

He shakes his head again, and glances at you, “coincidence like last night, when I thought that you left with Jacob only to find out that you left with Steve – oh, oh! And not because you were feeling sick! You two have been screwing around and coming up with the shittiest dumbest lies, I mean Heidi and Chandler, are you fucking serious?”

You look down, hiding your face from your best friend.

You feel ashamed for lying to him.

You feel scared to lose him now.

Steve is quiet beside you, looking like a deer caught in headlights as he stares at Eddie.

“You are both so goddamn obvious, I can’t believe I didn’t figure this shit out before!” He laughs in disbelief. “You always look like you’re ready to jump each other’s bones – jesus christ.”

“Dude,” Steve sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, “it’s just, we uh, we wanted to keep this a secret but uh… guess we should’ve been more careful.”

Eddie throws his arms up, looking between you bewildered, “uh huh, so you went from hating each other to being lovesick, horny idiots?” He snort, not quite believing what he’s seeing, what he’s hearing, “so, are you two gonna keep lying, or finally admit to me that you are dating?”

Your eyes widen, and your head snaps up, your lips parting in surprise.

“Dating?” Steve scoffs, chuckling a little as he crosses his arms over his chest. “Fuck no, it’s just sex.”

Eddie opens his mouth again, but his words get caught in his throat when he glances at you, and sees the look on your face, the pained frown, the sadness in your eyes and the way the tension in your shoulders falls. You lower your head, and stare blankly at the floor, not saying a single word.

He had seen you like this before.

He had seen this sadness before – that night when Steve had lost his temper, and he hit you with harsh words.

I would be surprised if anyone ever loved you at all.

Oh.

Eddie sucks in a sharp breath, the realization that floods through him, isn’t easy on him when he sees just how hurt you are by Steve’s words.

There is only one lovesick person in this room, and it isn’t Steve.

He nearly wants to growl at him, slam him against the wall and tell him to stay away from you.

“Look, we’re just having fun, and we didn’t want this to get in the way of things… so… it’s just between Blondie and I,” Steve shrugs, unaware of the anger that boils inside of the man before him. “We’re causing no harm.”

Right, no harm at all.

It’s only your heart that he’s breaking.

Eddie doesn’t even need the confirmation, he can read you like an open book.

“Right?” Steve nudges your shoulder.

You nod, “right.”

“So uh… I think it should stay between us,” Steve points between you and himself, not seeing the look on your face, not seeing the look on Eddie’s face. “And uh, it’d be nice if you kept this to yourself.”

“Uh huh,” Eddie nods, clenching his jaw.

He can tell that you don’t want to be here anymore, that you’re getting restless as you begin to bounce your knee and to blink quickly.

You want to go, and Eddie does too – or else he will do something that he will come to regret.

“Yeah well, you keep doing your thing then,” Eddie mumbles, unable to look at him for longer than a second, before the anger worsens, “I don’t know how I feel about this, but uh, it’s none of my business. Just please stop lying to me.”

Steve runs his fingers through his hair, sighing, “yeah, sure.”

“I should go now,” Eddie mumbles, and he glances at you again, pointing his finger at your face, “and you’re coming with me.”

He gives you a stern look, one that stops Steve from asking any questions, from asking you to stay.

Eddie doesn’t want to leave you with the guy, that is clearly hurting you. He might not know it, but Eddie isn’t blind, and he knows that you staying here won't end well tonight, because the pain in your features is way too visible, and he can tell that you don’t want Steve to see, by the way you're hiding your face from him.

Eddie blinks, not realizing that he is still glaring at Steve, his protectiveness growing stronger in him.

“Alright, let’s go,” he mumbles.

“Yeah,” you sigh, turning around, you keep your head low, “bye Steve.”

He watches you both closely, the way you quickly make your way out of his room and into the hallway, hurrying down the stairs like you’re running away from something – like you’re running away from him.

And Steve, he opens his mouth as his eyes follow you, but he shuts it again, his throat bobs as he swallows. His shoulders fall and a sigh falls from his lips.

Eddie steps closer to him, and Steve turns to face him, he raises his brows at the warning look in Eddie’s deep brown eyes.

“I’m going to kick your ass if you hurt her, Harrington.”

Steve has never been afraid of Eddie – well, maybe those two times when he slammed him against the wall.

“It’s just sex, Munson,” he says, with an unsure tone in his voice, and a bitter taste on his tongue, that he swallows harshly. “Nothing more.”

If Eddie wasn’t so focused on your feelings and on the anger in him, he would’ve seen something other than lies in Steve’s eyes.

“Mhmm, right.” Eddie nods, and steps away from him. “Well, good night.”

He wants to stay longer, to interrogate him further and find out more, but talking to you is more important to him now, so he follows you, hoping that you didn’t make a quick escape already.

But he finds you in the driveway, with your arms crossed over your chest, you lean against your car as you wait for him.

Eddie approaches you slowly, not needing to make up his mind about what question to ask first – it already lies on the tip of his tongue.

You drum your fingers against your elbow, your knee still bounces, your chest heaves up and down heavily.

No words are spoken when he finally halts in front of you, the only sound between you both is your breathing, the wind rustling in the trees and the crickets.

You look at Eddie through your lashes, nervous to even say a single word.

He pities you in this very moment, because he knows how you feel.

“When were you going to tell me?”

“What?” You ask in a small voice.

“When were you going to tell me that you’re in love with Steve?”

You draw back, and your eyes widen.

You knew that he would confront you, but you didn’t expect him to confront you like this.

Your heart drops to your stomach, as the lump in your throat grows.

“I-I…” You stutter, shaking your head at him as you search for words in your mind, for lies to feed him, so your heart can rest, but your mind is empty, the lies are gone, and all you can do is panic as your eyes start burning, “I don’t… I’m not…” You can’t even utter those words, you can’t even lie to save yourself, you can’t even say that you aren’t in love with him, because saying that, would hurt more than this reality.

And yet, you still want to deny, but all you can do is shake your head.

Eddie’s eyes soften, he sighs when he sees just how much pain there is in your glassy eyes.

Eddie knows that there is more, much more.

These feelings aren’t newfound, these feelings are so very deep, these feelings are years old.

He licks his lips, and takes a deep breath.

“That’s why you jumped into the lake with no doubt, that’s why you grabbed him at the hospital, that’s who you got all dressed up for at Hopper’s and Joyce’s party,” he pauses as his face saddens, “that’s why you looked like the world fucking collided when he said it’s just sex.”

A tear falls from your eyes, and slips down your cheek.

Your bottom lip begins to quiver in fear, knowing that this very fragile thing between you and Steve, is now even more frail than before.

You’re a little shocked by how perceptive Eddie is of you, just how Billy was.

He takes a step closer to you, bringing his hand up to your shoulder, hoping to bring you comfort.

“Eddie,” you whisper with a trembling voice as you look into his eyes through your blurred vision, “p-please don’t tell anyone… I-I will lose him if the others find out. And this is the only way I can have him.”

Eddie’s heart breaks for you, the desperation in your eyes and your voice, your words showing him just how deep your feelings are.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he sighs, tilting his head, “for how long?”

You hesitate, not knowing how to save yourself from this humiliation.

But, Eddie’s eyes are filled with kindness, you know that he won’t judge you.

You breathe in shakily, another tear rolls down your cheek, but you quickly raise your hand up to your face, and wipe it away.

“Since we were teens…”

Eddie’s eyes widen, his lips part in shock.

The revelation isn’t something he expected at all.

He knows how Steve treated you, he knows how awful his words were, sometimes. – He knows that King Steve never once bit his tongue, the presence of his friends only made his words more cruel.

He fell victim to it, and you did too.

Neither of you hesitated to bite back though, and Eddie always tried to brush his words off, you always acted like you did too. – He wasn’t your friend in high school, but he was no stranger to seeing you bicker with King Steve during classes or in the hallway. He was always impressed by your witty words, and your funny insults.

He could’ve never guessed that you were wearing a mask, that those words were only weapons to defend yourself with, to hide behind them, to keep your true feelings a secret.

You were so good at acting like you didn’t care, like Steve was someone you hated, like your heart didn’t break, every time you faced him.

“Oh my god,” he whispers, sadly.

You shake your head, and huff at yourself. You raise your hand towards your face, waving it as a pained chuckle falls from your lips, “you must think I’m pathetic,” you murmur, rolling your eyes, the tears still deeply visible, “falling for a guy who fucking hated me for years? That’s just… I’m setting myself up for failure.”

Eddie can tell that you are trying not to break down while you’re still here, still in Steve’s driveway, where he could see you at any given moment.

“You’re not pathetic,” he frowns, squeezing your shoulder, “we don’t choose the people we fall in love with, it’s not in our control.”

And if it was, you still would’ve chosen him.

That makes you pathetic.

“I am pathetic. If I had some dignity, I wouldn’t do this with him. I shouldn’t do this with him, I know how it will end, Eddie.”

“Don’t talk down on yourself,” he mumbles, glaring at you. “Shit, I don’t even blame you, I would’ve done the same thing if I was in that situation.”

You breathe in shakily, blinking fastly as you feel your breakdown approaching.

“I-I just, I wanna go home, right now. I can’t–”

“Hey,” Eddie whispers softly. His kind eyes and his presence being the only comfort for you now. “Want me to go with you? You can talk to me, sweets. You know that.”

“Yes please,” you whisper, not wanting to be alone now after all of this.

“Do you feel okay to drive?” He asks.

You nod.

“Okay, let’s go then.”

Eddie steps away from you, he gives you a small smile before he walks away and towards his car.

You hesitate, and look back towards Steve’s house, looking into the window where the light is on. Your heart feels heavy, it longs for him, but there is so much sadness inside of you.

You’re not stupid, you knew how he felt about you, you knew what this was to him, you knew he never wanted more, he will never want more.

You know how this will end.

You know it.

But he blessed you with a glimpse of hope, this morning, only to crush it again by night.

You knew the moment of happiness was short, but you didn’t think that it would be this short.

You didn’t think that this night would be so much different from the one before.

You didn’t think that it would end with you sobbing into your best friend’s chest.

You didn’t know yet, that it wouldn’t be the last time that you would do that.

♡

tagging friends and mutuals

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

#rampage fic rec

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