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#Steve harrington x reader
natti-ice · 1 day
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18+ mdni
a/n: this is a edited version of an old post of mine!
Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated<3
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You riding on top of him rocking back and forth on his dick taking every inch of him, you’re in complete euphoria, one hand on his chest for balance while you use the other to circle your clit. You can feel yourself getting close, you keep your pace focusing on cumming. He watches himself disappear inside of you, when your hand catches his eye. He lightly grabs your wrist pulling you out of your daze.
“Let me taste you” he says in a husky voice
You smirk before pulling your hand from your clit and bring your fingers up to his mouth. You lightly brush them against his lips before slipping them into his mouth, he immediately starts sucking on them bobbing his head back and forth, his tongue dances on the pads of your fingertips.
This made you even wetter if that was even possible, he slowly pulls your fingers out of his mouth making sure he didn’t miss anything
“Fuckin perfect.”
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bethsvrse · 19 hours
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please PLEASE learn how to tag your fanfics. Don’t tag fluff when it’s angst, don’t tag smut when it’s fluff and please don’t tag characters that ARENT EVEN MENTIONED IN THE FIC!!!!
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goldustwomun · 2 days
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bags (s.h.)
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pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
summary: you'd loved steve since you were fifteen, followed him wherever he went. so when you were finally over him, stumbling home with another man clinging to your side, why was he waiting by your doorstep?
warnings: (unedited) angst angst angst, best friend robin and nancy but also lovers <3 robin and nancy <3, swearing, drinking, clubbing/partying, self-deprecating thoughts and a stubborn reader, steve is kind of an asshole despair and dread lol, this went a route i hadn't expected but i'm feeling achey and sad tonight so :) enjoy :) and don't hate me!
wc: 2.2k+
note: i hope this isn't entirely ass lol i just want steve harrington to break my heart but like i cant put my ideas into words and its SO FRUSTRATING but whatever :’)
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Can you see me? I'm waiting for the right time I can't read you, but if you want, the pleasure's all mine Can you see me using everything to hold back? I guess this could be worse Walkin' out the door with your bags
You should’ve known it’d end up this way. His back, coloured shades of blue and purple as dusk kissed at his skin, retreating into the distance and down the very road you’d just stumbled up only moments earlier. Maybe if you had listened a little closer, noticed a little more, the way he grabbed at your waist, squeezed your palms, held you close, you could’ve avoided it all. The shock and heartbreak and unbearable yearning only to turn up empty and desolate all over again.
Because you loved Steve Harrington, in more ways than he would ever know, but it had taken days, months, years, even, to get over that initial infatuation and belly flutter you’d been plagued with as teenagers. He was King Steve and you but a peasant, a shadow, one of many, that flocked to his side when he waved or smiled or tripped you up.
You loved Steve Harrington, but you hated him for waiting so long to work up the courage to just say it. I love you; I’ve always loved you, you wanted to say, but the words refused to pass the seal of your lips and instead you were left gaping at an empty spot on the ground, a Steve-shaped hole in your heart.
It’d been days since you’d seen him last, mourning his absence but refusing to sit around like you might’ve done if you were still seventeen. But no, you weren’t seventeen, you were a twenty-something independent that went out and did things and met people and kissed them if you wanted, maybe even take them home to your one-bedroom that would be otherwise empty without Steve plastered to your sofa, a hand stuffed into the popcorn you kept around because he once said he didn’t entirely hate it.
And that’s what you had done, convinced Nancy and Robin to leave the haze of their never-ending honeymoon phase to take you dancing. The drinks hadn’t stopped coming. Every time you gulped down a shot, another would be shoved into your hand before you’d had time to comprehend the reality of what you were going to do. To sleep with a stranger in the same space you’d watched Rocky with Steve only days earlier. You’d called and asked and begged him to come over, to join you, Nancy and Robin, but he’d bit at you in that way he sometimes did. The harsh edges of his teenage-self making itself known in ways you’d have liked to forget.
“Stop it, babes. I know what you’re doing,” Robin scolded, frowning at the dip between your brows and the lost look in your eyes. You forced a smile then, and she scoffed at the minimal effort you put into hiding your feelings, always having excelled at letting them take over your features even when you didn’t mean them to. Of course, every knew, everyone could see it in the way you trailed after him, like a lost puppy begging for an ounce of attention. Steve was cruel with the crumbs he handed you, but he didn’t know any better.
Everyone knew and everyone could see but Steve had always stood out, the most handsome, the most fit, the most clueless. And maybe that’s why you were perfect for each other because you hadn’t known either, had you.
“Come on, up you get!” Robin urged, pulling you from your chair with Nancy already clinging to her side, shuffling the three of you with what little sobriety she had left in her to the dance floor, pulsing lights and thrumming bodies none-the-wiser to the way you heart was cracking open.
So, you jumped and danced and bounced to the beat in ways you didn’t know you were capable of. Free and without regret and it wasn’t until someone was staring at you from across the room, watching your every moment with a fascination you’d never been subject to, that you stopped, pressing past Nancy and Robin with a tip of your head that assured them you’d be back.
He, whoever he was, surged into action, coming behind you at the bar where you were busy asking for a glass of water. You turned and smiled, stomach dipping, because he was attractive and strong, and he had these kind eyes and soft lips that looked like they’d be otherworldly against your skin. He introduced himself but the music obscured his words, so you nodded and pretended and wondered why you were dreading this conversation when it had only just begun.
He pulled you into a somewhat quieter corner after you’d gestured it was alright, and really, he seemed as surprised as you were when you all but pounced, mouth meeting his, open and desperate. He hadn’t complained, had probably seen it coming in the quiet desperation of your eyes. Of course, he didn’t know it was because of the way you wished it was someone else kissing you into the wall and not some all-consuming lust you were fueled by.
The next thing you knew you were huddled into the backseat of a cab, then stumbling across the gravel to your front door.
And that’s when you saw him. Sat on the bottom step of your apartment’s front door, gaze focused on the way whatever-his-name-was smirked into your neck, having probably thought you had stopped for a smooch and not because the man you had loved, unrequited, for close to a decade was staring at you like you’d stabbed him right in the chest, and twisted.
“Steve?” you whispered, loud enough to prompt Harrington off the step and marching across the short distance to you. “What are you—” but you never had a chance to ask him before he was swinging a left hook right into the guy’s jaw.
“Steve!” and you were shouting now, pushed to side as the stranger retaliated out of instinct, socking him in the nose. Steve looked like he was grinning, blood dripping into his mouth, like he was enjoying the feel of getting the shit beat out of him. “Stop it! Steve! I said—” you yanked him back, shoving him behind you as you rushed forward to-- fuck. You still don’t know his name.
“I’m sorry— Jesus Christ—” you swore when you noticed how his eye was already bruising as he shook you off. “I don’t know why he did that. I—I’m—"
His words were bitter when he responded, shooting daggers at the looming figure you were keenly aware was still behind you before meeting your pleading eyes. “It’s fine. It’s fine,” he assured you, squeezing your hip as he moved past you to leave. “You should talk to your boyfriend, you know, before you bring anyone else over.”
“I’m not—He’s not—” but he was gone, and you were still reeling from what had just happened, what Steve had just done. You turned, anger coursing through you so violently your hands were shaking. “Fucking hell—Steve! What the fuck are you doing here? And what the fuck was that?!”
“Were you going to fuck him?” he asked plainly, bluntly, shirt pulled to his face as he tried to stop the bleeding. There was still that wild look in his eyes, a flush to his skin, like he too was dazed and confused.
“What—I--- how is that any of your fucking business?” you answered back, shoving a finger against his chest. He was immovable though, only grabbed at your hand and held it until your palm was flat against the front of him. You could feel, now, the reckless thrum of his heartbeat, and you asked yourself how you’d gotten here in the first place, pushed up against a bloodied and bruised Steve Harrington.
“Just tell me. If I hadn’t been sat here, would you have fucked him?”
And you didn’t completely understand it, didn’t know what answer he was looking for—the one that was acquiesce him enough to explain himself or at the very least go inside and forget about all this ever happening—so instead you answered honestly. “Yes,” but your voice cracked at the end, so you snatched your hand back, cradling it to yourself like an injured bird you hoped to keep cocooned in your warm. You cleared your throat and tried again. “Yeah, I would have slept with him. And if it hadn’t been him, I would have found someone else.”
He nodded, looking as if he were pained but you were certain, now, it wasn’t because of the punch he’d taken to the face. “And if I had answered your call, met you there, got drunk and kissed you, would you have fucked me, too?”
You reeled at his words, feeling entirely as though you were the one in the midst of a fight. “Where is this coming from, Steve? Why are you saying these things to me?” you begged, pleaded, tired of whatever back-and-forth the two of you had gotten into the habit of.
“Look—” and he was determined now, steely gaze pinning you to the ground. His bruised knuckles brushed through his hair, scattering the strands across his forehead so that your fingers tingled with the urge to brush them out of his eyes like you’d always done. “—I should’ve said this ages ago. I just—I never could because it was never the right time, and I didn’t really see you in that way, not when I knew you did—” and really you wanted to stop him there, let the Earth swallow you whole and spit your bones out to be buried far from here. “I knew you had this—this thing for me but I ignored it but then we became friends and we—I mean, we watch movies, and we cuddle on the couch and sometimes I think I’d like to do that with you all the time and—
“Steve, please,” you whispered through the tears flooding past your irises, looking anywhere but at him, cheeks flushed with humiliation. He’d always had this tight grip around your heart and maybe he didn’t know that with every word he spoke that grip tightened, and tightened, and you were sure your heart was going to burst if he didn’t shut up right then.
“Just listen—I want to do those things with you always, sweetheart, I really do. I could’ve—I mean, I should’ve communicated my feelings earlier, I know I should have, but I didn’t want to lie to you. Not when you mean so much to me and I couldn’t give you what you wanted.” He looked at you then, expectantly, reaching forward to pull you into his embrace but you stumbled back, wanting out of the hold he had on you in more ways than one.
“Am I meant to thank you for looking at me differently now?” you bit out, exhaustion coating your syllables like rust on a nail.
His face fell as he stuttered over his own words. “I mean—no, sweetheart, no, of course not, I just thought—”
“You thought because I’m pathetic—because I’ve always been fucking pathetic to you—stumbling after you since high school that I’d just be, what, waiting for you? That I’d welcome your change of heart with open arms and gratitude?” you scoffed, gaze narrowed as you watched that wall of his build itself back up. Your ego was bruised and you were too stubborn to admit it, because you thought he had been clueless, and that thought had kept you safe all these years as you curled into his side every weekend.
“I don’t think that. I’ve never thought that” he cautioned, temper rising. If Steve Harrington was anything it was beautiful, and if he wasn’t beautiful, he was angry, stubborn, a pot ready to boil over.  
“Come on, Steve. You said it yourself: I’ve had a thing for you since freshmen year. I followed you after we graduated, and I’ve followed you again, here, now. It took me years—fucking years—to get over it, to accept that I’d never be more than a friend, if that, and now, after you’ve been dodging me for days, you turn around and confess some sort of miracle feelings for me?” You were panting, out of breath from the way the words spilled out of you, thoughts you shouldn’t have kept to yourself all this time.
“Well what should I have done!” he roared, and a few curious lights blinked on from the building behind him. “Should I have not befriended you when you turned up to the same college? Should I have, instead, fucked you ten years ago when it would have meant nothing to me?” And you flinched at his words.
“You should have let me be, Steve,” you sighed, defeated. Because he was right, but you hated him for prodding at wounds you were still trying to heal.  “You should have kept it to yourself and let me be.” But really what you wanted to say was you’ve been lying to Robin and Nancy because you weren’t over him. You loved him; you’d always love him, but you were afraid, if you told him the truth, that he’d slowly fade from your life until he wasn’t a part of it anymore.
He nodded, face slipping into that mask of his you’d dreaded seeing. “Right. Got it.”
He pushed past you, and you wanted to thank him for the slight brush of his skin against yours, but you kept quiet, like you always had.
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as always, please comment and reblog if you enjoyed <3
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rowanswriting · 2 days
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texts from Steve part one
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Guys it’s me, I’m the demo dog
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tooearlyforthis · 3 days
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Help Me Help You
Pairing: Steve Harrington x reader
Synopsis: (12.6k wc) Steve can't always admit when he needs help - which is why Robin is there to tell him. Weeks of therapy and he feels like he's gotten nowhere. So what happens when his therapist recommends a group session? What if he recognizes someone there?
Warnings: fluff, angst, mental health - anxiety, depression, panic attacks, mentions of loss, therapy, SA
Click here to see my Masterlist | click here for my Steve Harrington taglist
This is a little different than what I usually post but I started writing this when I wasn't in the best place and I found it helped a lot. A lot of this stuff I've been through but if there is any feedback you guys have to portray the things discussed better please reach out!
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“And how has that shaped you?”
The words echoed in Steve’s ears. He had heard it, comprehended the question; but his mind drifted far away. The grey carpet floor beneath him held no value, but he couldn’t look away. Why did he think therapy was a good idea?
Dr. Ackerman shifted in her seat, her pencil tapping against a notebook in her lap. “Steve,” she said sternly. He only mumbled a response, picking his head up. “How did not getting into college shape you?”
It sounded more like an interview question than anything else. Something a mid-level employee would ask him as he sat in the front of the store, nerves taking over his whole body. 
He propped his foot up on one knee, trying to think of an answer quickly. “Uh more resilience, I guess?”
Nodding, Dr. Ackerman wrote on her notepad. “Care to elaborate?”
“I don’t know, that kind of life wasn’t meant for me. It made me move on to better things.” He tried not to tap his fingers against his thigh - a nervous tick he had developed over the years.
“And why do you think that life, going to college, wasn’t for you?”
He tried to think of a way to justify his answer. Telling the truth wasn’t an option, despite it being the reason he sought out counseling. 
She leaned forward, letting her hands drift over her knees. “This won’t work if you’re not open, Steve.”
Shit how did she know?
Leaning back Dr. Ackerman continued, “I want you to come this weekend to sit in on a group session with my other patients. See how talking about what’s wrong may help you.”
“I don’t know –“ he began, already hesitant on her suggestion.
Putting up a hand, she silenced him. “No fighting. You need to commit, Stephen.”
The mention of his full name stung, a friendly reminder that she was older, wiser – a person who knew what was best for him.
“Trust me. This will help.”
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Something smelled good. Way too good. 
It floated through his house, filling every crevice despite the absence of bodies. It made him feel safe, an unfamiliar sensation to him from the last few years. Following the smell, he walked into the kitchen. Robin was standing over the stove, a paper towel gripped over her arm.
“What did you do?” He asked, announcing his presence. 
He wasn’t surprised to see her. More and more the past few weeks she had been spending time at his house, even taking up a semi permanent room upstairs. 
She turned around, her face softening from a scowl. “Just burned my arm with oil. I think I put too much in the pan.” Steve chuckled. “How did it go?”
Shedding his jacket, he sat down at the counter. “It was fine. She wants me to do group therapy this weekend.” 
“Do you think it will help?”
He shrugged, not knowing his true answer. Out of all the people in their little party of monster fighters, Steve experienced some of the worst. From getting beat up more times that he could count, to getting tortured by Russians, he was in desperate need of help. 
But part of him still thought he didn’t when there were always others that would need him. His brain would spiral. To thoughts of the kids, hoping another gate hadn’t opened up; to Joyce and Hopper, wondering if someone would come back looking for them. But as the PTSD of his past caught up to him, it felt like the only viable option.
“What are you cooking?” he asked, diverting the conversation.
“Chicken,” Robin replied. “I mean, it’ll probably taste like shit. But it’s been a while since we had a proper meal, ya know?”
He nodded. “Yeah it has been…don’t worry though it actually smells really good. I think I’m going to take a nap before we eat if that’s okay? Just tired from this –”
“ – you don’t have to explain. I understand.”
He smiled at her – a genuine smile. Nowadays it felt like every emotion he felt was being forced, a sign to tell the others he was okay. But Robin had a way of bringing out his true self. She understood him in ways no one else in his life did. From the moment they went crashing down in that Russian elevator, they were linked at the hip - a single mind working cohesively.
Entering his bedroom, he felt immediate relief. It was a sense of safety, like a big blanket wrapping him in a warm hug. Sinking into the mattress he let sleep take him, hoping to not wake up from the horror of his dreams.
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The weekend came sooner than Steve would have liked. He didn’t feel ready to walk into group therapy, no matter how much he tried to prepare himself. The unknown scared him, even when it came to just talking about his feelings. 
Robin offered to drive him. He was reluctant at first since she had only had her license for a year. But the session was a couple of towns over and she knew how his mind would run if he was alone in his car.
Pulling up to the building, she let the car roll to a stop. The engine continued to rumble in Steve’s ears, his heart matching the irregular pattern. It was like he was riding up a roller coaster, the top never coming into sight. He shut his eyes, trying to wish the feeling away.
Robin placed a hand gently on his shoulder, grounding him back to reality. “Hey,” she began. “Everything’s gonna be alright.”
Nodding, he unbuckled his seat belt and grabbed the water bottle he had brought. “Thanks for driving, Rob.”
“Of course. I’ll be here when you get out.”
With one last breath, he said to himself, “All right, let’s do this.”
He opened the car door, letting the cold air hit his face as he climbed out. It felt nice, like a wake-up call he so desperately needed. 
“You got this!” Robin exclaimed from the rolled-down window. 
He smiled, watching as she drove off before turning back to the big brick building in front of him. It was a different place from his usual sessions with Dr. Ackerman. But as he entered the building, he found it felt eerily similar. Was every therapist's office decorated the same? From the off-grey carpet to the leather sofa, it felt like a place he had been before. It helped calm his emotions just a smidge. 
“Can I help you, sweetie?” He turned to the lady behind the front counter.
“Uh, yeah I’m here for Dr. Ackerman’s group session?”
“Follow me,” she said with a warm smile.
The lady moved from her place behind the counter to open the door at the other end of the room. Closely, he followed her down the narrow hallway. His heart began to race, wondering how he could talk about his traumas without revealing the supernatural. It was hard to do with one person but a whole group? He might as well sew his mouth shut. 
“Here you are sweetie,” the lady said, swinging open a door. 
He barely had time to thank her before the door was shut behind him, leaving him alone in a room of strangers. Well, strangers plus one person he never thought he’d see again; Y/N L/N. She was sitting in a chair, arms crossed in an oversized sweatshirt and leggings. It was very different from how he remembered her in high school. 
From the few classes they shared and the occasional hellos in the hallway, he knew she was a pretty friendly, put-together person. She was always kind to people, despite the unfriendly rumors about how many notches were on her bedpost. Last he heard, she was heading off to some Ivy League school after graduation. So what was she doing sitting in on this therapy group?
He wanted to talk to her, to reconnect even though they were never close to begin with. Her eyes were glued to the hem of her sweatshirt, pinching at it in boredom. Then she looked up, scanning the room before her eyes landed on him. Her breath hitched for a moment as Steve saw her realize who he was. 
Wanting to talk to her, he stepped forward. Before he could even make it an inch, Dr. Ackerman’s voice pulled him away. 
“Mr. Harrington,” she greeted him. “Glad to see you could join us. Please, take a seat.”
Giving a polite smile, he stole a glance at Y/N one more time. She was already looking down at the floor, back to pulling on the strings of her pullover. 
As the therapy season began and people began to speak, Steve found himself barely paying attention. He went into this session hoping to get the most out of it, to really take in and listen to what people had to say. But that was before he saw Y/N. Shy and still undeniably cute, Y/N. 
He wanted to hear her story, not the strangers they were surrounded by. He wanted to know why she was here, not in New Jersey, and what could have happened in her life that made her need therapy in the first place. Steve knew his past was fucked up but from an outsider’s perspective, it never seemed like hers was. 
Unlucky for him, she barely spoke the entire session. There was the occasional nod or spoken agreement, but she never elaborated on any subject brought up. The minute Dr. Ackerman announced their time was over, and before he could even talk to her, she was gone. Out the door and out of his life. 
Steve slumped back into his chair, feeling defeated. He didn’t know why he felt so down. She was never a close friend to him, even at the height of them interacting in school. He got up to leave, hoping to catch her outside when he heard Dr. Ackerman called his name. Begrudgingly, he turned around to face her.
“So, what did you think?” she asked.
“I uh, don’t really know,” he responded truthfully.
“Then I want you to come back next weekend. And try to talk more, okay? You get out of it what you put in.”
Nodding, he gave her a goodbye. He rushed out the door, hoping to catch Y/N before she left. But alas, he was too late. Everyone had gone for the day. The only person left was Robin, patiently waiting in the car next to the curb. 
“How’d it go?” She asked, as he stepped into the car. 
“Fine,” he replied, as he played with the hem of his shirt. “I uh… saw Y/N L/N. Remember her?”
“I think so. Pretty sure we had chem together. Wait, wasn’t she some big shot? Going off to Princeton or something?”
Steve shrugged. “I guess not anymore.”
Robin gave an inquisitive hum in lieu of a reply. He stared out the window as she drove, partly thinking of how much Robin’s driving had improved. But mostly, his mind was filled with thoughts of Y/N and how he couldn’t wait to see her again. 
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Steve made sure to arrive extra early for the group session the following week. He walked into the office complex, moving his way through the halls to the familiar door with Dr. Ackerman’s plaque across the front. With one last deep breath, he went in. 
The receptionist recognized him, letting him go into the therapy room with no problem. “Dr. Ackerman isn’t here yet but make yourself comfortable,” she told him. 
“Thanks,” he replied softly, watching her close the door behind him. 
When he turned around again, he was greeted with semi-familiar faces staring back at him. He scanned the room; no Y/N in sight. Giving a weak smile, he sat down in the same seat from last week. 
He could tell the others' eyes were on him, trying to get a read on the newbie. There weren’t many people there but it sure felt like a lot. A boy, probably around his age, a slightly older woman dressed very professionally, and an older lady that he had to guess was a few years away from a retirement home. 
“Hey,” the younger boy said, causing Steve to look up. “I’m Matt.” Steve replied with only his name, not knowing what else to say. Matt motioned to the woman in her late 20s wearing almost a business suit. “That’s Sam, and grandma over there is Louise. She could drop dead any minute so be on the lookout.”
“Matt!” Sam exclaimed, hitting his arm. “Don’t say that.”
“It’s alright, sweetie,” Louise calmed her. “He can say anything he wants as long as he remembers that I know where he lives, and I own a gun.”
Steve’s eyes went wide, his shoulders stiffening. Did that old woman just threaten him? Matt bursted out laughing. It was clear the group was comfortable with that sort of joking around. He turned back to a very tense Steve. “What are you here for?”
“You don’t have to answer that.” Sam told him.. 
“It’s complicated,” Steve said honestly. “I-I’m not really sure how I would explain it anyways.”
“Oooh,” Matt cooed. “Are you in a love triangle?”
“No I –”
“Family abandon you?”
“Well –”
“Oh I got it!” He interrupted again, sitting up straighter in his chair. “You got bit by a rabies infected bat and turned into a vampire.”
Steve tensed. How did he– it was obviously a joke. Not anything to take seriously so Steve decided to play along. “Actually, you’re not that far off.”
Matt chuckled, looking over at Sam who let out a small laugh as well. “I like you. You’re gonna fit in just fine.”
“Okay…” Steve said hesitantly, not knowing quite what he meant. 
The door softly clicked open, everyone turning to look who it was. Steve sucked in a breath when he realized it was Y/N. She was wearing something similar to last week, a pair of jeans and a sweater two sizes too big. The room was small enough that as she scanned the environment, her eyes locked with his.
Steve heard the others greeting her as she stepped further into the room, but his gaze was still fixed on her. Quickly, Y/N looked down, her hair falling gently over her face. He couldn’t help but feel a little hurt. Maybe she realized that they would be seeing more of each other; maybe she didn’t want to see him at all. He watched as she walked to an open seat, setting her bag down at her feet.
Steve wanted to speak, to say something to Y/N even though he didn’t know what. Cursed again, Dr. Ackerman bursted into the room. “Sorry I’m late,” she announced. “Let’s get started.”
Even though his mind was filled with thoughts of Y/N, he did manage to listen in more to the problems of his fellow group members. Matt was from a couple towns over attending the state college. His anxiety got the best of him and he had a falling out with his best friend. Sam was an elementary school teacher who suffered from PTSD from her younger years traveling as a military brat. And Louise was grieving the loss of her son - a car accident from a few months prior. He listened in more, taking in the symptoms and coping mechanisms they used. Some of the things they said sounded familiar, things that he could learn from his own terrifying experiences.
Once Louise, recounted her past week, how it felt in the wake of her son’s death, Dr. Ackerman turned to him. 
“Steve,” she said suddenly, taking him off guard from sneaking a look at Y/N. “You've experienced some loss in your life as well?” He nodded, not knowing where this was going. “Would you like to share a recent experience you had? Maybe the group has some coping skills to help you. 
Suddenly all the eyes were on him. He felt violated, talking in front of people he barely knew for two days. But in the words of Dr. Ackerman, it wasn’t going to help if he didn’t contribute. 
He began to speak, choosing his words very carefully. “Um yeah I guess I’ve been surrounded by loss, more so in the past couple of years.”
 He felt Y/N look up at him, sympathy in her stare. It gave him the courage to continue. 
“First it was my ex’s best friend. I didn’t know her well but she was last seen at my house so, I guess I blame myself for that? My friend, his mom’s boyfriend passed away, as well as another friend’s older brother…but more recently, a-a new friend. We had only just met… he uh, played a lot of Dungeons and Dragons.”
He looked over at Y/N again who was still staring at him, her sympathy replaced with something else - something he couldn’t quiet. Fright? No, recognition.
“I think of him sometimes– the new friend,” Steve clarified, glancing down at his fingers tapping against his thigh. “We only knew each other for a short while but he was a good dude…I see stuff around town sometimes that reminds me of him and I feel like I’m back- “ 
In the Upside Down.
“In a dark place,” he opted to say instead. 
When he looked up at the group, he felt relieved. They all looked at him with a sense of understanding, like they knew what he was going through. Hell, after what he heard today they probably were.
“I see,” Dr. Ackerman began. “So group, what can Steve do?”
“Well, I find the 54321 method helpful,” Sam said. 
Matt pointed at her. “I was about to say the same thing.”
“The 54321 method?” Steve asked, hoping they would explain further. 
“Y/N,” Dr. Ackerman said. She looked up at her. “Would you mind explaining to Steve what this coping skill is?”
Steve looked over at her hesitantly. “Uh sure,” she said, sitting up straighter. She was trying to look at him but her eyes fell back to her lap. “You count five things you can see around you, four things you can feel… uh three things you can hear. Two you can smell and one you can taste.”
“Very good Y/N.”
She looked up at him one last time, her gaze holding longer than usual and Steve felt like she could take his breath away. 
“And have you been using those methods yourself?” Dr. Ackerman asked. 
She tore her gaze away from Steve, looking back at their therapist. “I-I’ve been trying.”
“Well that’s a step forward right? Effort is all I can ask for. Now Steve,” she directed her attention back to her. “Those were great examples, but not the one I was looking for.”
“It wasn’t?” 
“What about your parents?”
He shook his head. “My parents aren’t dead.”
“But are they around often?” Steve froze. She knew they weren’t. Where was she going with this? Shaking his head, she continued. “Couldn’t that count as a form of loss? The loss of parental figures?”
He remained silent. Could it?
“Loss is not just death, Steve. It can take on many forms.”
Shit, he hadn’t thought of it that way. How much in his life had he truly lost? His parents, his friends, his reputation… Before he could even begin to process what that meant, Dr. Ackerman moved on to Matt who talked about his recent split from his best friend. But Steve was still in his own mind. His own thoughts drowning out the voices of the people around him. 
Maybe he needed therapy more than he cared to admit.
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Before Steve knew it, the session was over and he was making his way out of the room, the thought of loss still very much present in his mind. He didn’t realize how much therapy would actually help him. Though mental health was something more and more people were beginning to talk about, it still had a lot of negative stereotypes. One wrong step and you could end up in a psychiatric ward without really needing it.
Trying to give his brain a break, Steve shifted his focus to Y/N and how he desperately wanted to try and talk to her. But yet again, Dr. Ackerman stopped him. “So, how are you liking the group?”
“A lot better than last week,” he replied, watching a small smile form on her face.
“Good. That’s really good, Steve.”
“Can I…keep coming to this group? On top of our sessions?”
She nodded. “That was the plan all along. See you later this week.”
“See you, Dr. Ackerman.”
Despite the heavy topic of the session, the moment Steve stepped outside, it was like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. The air felt nice, so crisp on his skin it was like a fresh glass of water. He was reluctant to admit that Dr. Ackerman was right, but the lady knew her stuff.
Looking around, he noticed Robin hadn’t arrived yet. Everybody else was gone, or so he thought.
“I didn’t know that about your parents.”
Steve turned around to find Y/N leaning against a wall, a cigarette between her fingers. There was no need for introductions, they both had remembered each other – it was just a matter of who would speak first.
“Uh, yeah,” Steve began to respond, shoving his hands in his pockets. He spent so long building up the moment they would speak again that when the time came, he felt frozen. Like a deep in headlights. Making his way over to her, he continued, “Most people don’t.”
She nodded, taking a puff of the cigarette. As she breathed out, a cloud of smoke followed, slowly floating above them. Steve tried not to wince at the smell. “Want one?” she offered.
“No thanks, I quit last year.”
Her eyebrows raised, surprised. Slowly she shrugged. “That makes one of us.”
Not knowing what to do, Steve looked around, trying his best to find something for them to talk about besides the obvious. Unfortunately, he came up with nothing. “I thought you went off to college.”
“I did,” she said before mumbling, “Until Gary entered the picture.”
“Who’s Gary?”
Not responding, she puffed out more smoke. It was clearly a touchy subject and Steve knew all too well about those. 
“I-I’m happy you’re here though.”
She scoffed. “Really?”
He nodded. “I wished we stayed in touch when school was over.”
“Hate to break it to you, Harrington, but I didn’t consider us friends.”
“I mean, me neither. But I remember you being one of the few people that called me on my bullshit – could see through my lies…I need more people like that in my life.”
She stared at him, her cigarette still loosely hanging between fingers. He didn’t know what she was thinking, what she was searching for in his comment. Maybe the truth? To see if he was lying? Before either of them could say anymore a honk echoed across the parking lot. Steve turned to see Robin pulling up to the curb. She rolled down the window as she parked. 
“That’s my ride,” Steve said, slowly backing away. “You remember Buckley? Another Hawkins High survivor.”
“Yeah, hey,” Y/N said, giving a small wave.
Robin waved back and said, “Oh hey, yeah we had chem together right?” Y/N nodded. 
“I’ll uh, see you next week?” Steve said, turning back to her one more time.
“Uh, yeah. Yes.” She took another puff. “See you next week.”
With one last wave, he climbed into the car, watching Y/N become a speck in the side-view mirror as they drove away.
“So,” Robin began, “You finally talked to her?”
“More like she talked to me but, yeah,” he responded.
“She’s different from what I remember. Tougher, less open to people. I didn’t know you were close.”
“We weren’t.”
Watching as his house turned into view, all he could think about was seeing her the following week.
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“Why are we going to the other side of town again? Why can’t we just go to the burger place down the street?” Dustin asked, leaning forward from the backseat of Steve’s car. 
“It’ll be fun!” Robin said, arching her head to look back at him. 
“What’s the place called again?” Lucas asked. 
“Gordy’s,” Mike responded. “Stupid if you ask me.”
Usually in these types of scenarios, Steve would be the one to call them on their bullshit. To be the babysitter that steps up to make things right. However, because of more recent events, instead of stepping up, he was slipping away.
Robin noticed almost instantly, jumping in to control the situation when her friend couldn’t. 
“Hey!” She shouted, cutting off the chatter from the back. “Yes, the diner is called Gordy’s. Yes it’s on the other side of town. And we are going because Max likes it and she used to go with her family. Right Max?”
“Y-yeah,” Max spoke up from the back. “It’s pretty good, I think you guys would like it.”
“I’m excited,” El said, getting an agreement from Will. 
Little chatter soon broke into more chaos, the kids talking over each other without a care in the world. Steve wanted to say something, his grip on the steering wheel tightening in an effort to stop feeling the anxiety running through his chest. But still, it was too much. He needed to focus on the road. 
“See? El’s excited,” Robin chimed in again. “Quit your yapping, we're almost there.”
Almost on cue, they turned into the Gordy's parking lot. Steve took a deep breath as the chatter in the back started to die down. He could almost hear his thoughts again, though he didn’t know if that would be a good thing. 
As the kids began to pile out of the car, he felt Robin’s hand on his shoulder. 
“Hey,” she said. “Deep breaths, remember? If it gets too bad, do that thing you learned okay? The 123 method.”
“54321 method,” he corrected. 
“Yeah, the 54321 method.” She watched as he nodded, taking another deep breath. “Hey,” she willed him to look at her. “You’re doing great. You ready to go in or do you need a minute?”
“No, I’m good…” It wasn’t until they were standing right outside the doors, the kids already packed into a booth that he spoke again. “Sorry about that, I can’t control it sometimes-”
“You never have to explain yourself,” she interrupted him, grabbing one of his hands. “Never.”
Steve felt this warm haze travel through him, his chest expanding with what felt like a clean breath of air. Sometimes hearing that there was someone there for him was enough to keep him going. Squeezing her hand back, he motioned that he was ready.
It was easy to navigate to where the kids had decided to sit – noise only coming from one side of the diner. Of course, they were arguing. It was about some movie that had just come out though both of the older teens couldn’t quite place which one. 
“Zip it!” Steve shouted over them, standing at the edge of the diner booth. They all abruptly stopped to look at him. It was the first real words he had muttered all night. “Pick what you want to eat. We’re not spending an hour deciding like last time.”
Dustin smiled at his words. Sure, they were kinda mean, but when Steve got bitchy that meant he was alert. 
Sliding into the booth across from Robin, Steve picked up a menu. The options were like any other establishment, and the kids were quick to decide what they wanted. When it came down to it, their orders didn’t really change much from diner to diner. It was the talking that made their visits longer. But Steve liked to mix it up from time to time, especially when eating with Robin - they often split meals. 
So when the waiter came over to take their orders, he was happy they didn’t have to send the guy away. With El eager to get her waffles, she went first, Mike going straight after her. Steve guessed that meant he would be last. He took the moment he had to look around the diner Max had selected. 
It was nice, much nicer than the other places they had tried but that wasn’t saying much. Midwest towns with small populations meant slow repairs. The floors looked a little wet but that was probably from the amount of people walking through with the recent storm. The coffee machine was out of order and by the looks of it, it had been that way for at least a month.
Besides that, not much was out of place. There was an elderly couple sitting at the counter top across the place. Slowly they traced their fingers along a spread out newspaper Steve had to guess was an attempt at the crossword puzzle. But his eyes slowly drifted away from the puzzle and onto the waitress putting down their food. 
It was Y/N. Blue apron, hair pulled back to not obscure her face. 
His breath hitched when he saw her. It was so unexpected, seeing her in a place like this. She looked so calm, almost happy. He hadn’t seen her like that since their senior year. It made him wonder what had gone so wrong, what this “Gary” did to make her dropout of college. And even though he wouldn’t find that answer tonight, he couldn’t stop himself from staring at her.
As she smiled at her customers, her eyes scanned the diner.  Looking for more people to help, her eyes landed on him. There was some shock, the unexpectedness of seeing him, but she forced a smile on her face. 
“Steve!” 
He was pulled out of his daze by Robin, motioning to the waiter standing before them.
“W-what would you like to drink?” the waiter asked again, though Steve swore he never heard him the first time.
“Uh, just water, thanks,” he said sheepishly, his cheeks turning red from embarrassment.
The waiter, however, just nodded, walking over to where Y/N stood. Steve let his eyes follow him, watching the coworkers engage in conversation before Robin spoke again.
“That’s her, right?” she whispered, not wanting the kids to hear. He nodded. “You should go talk to her.”
He whipped his head around to look at her. “What? No.”
“Why not?”
Because my anxiety will make me fuck up my sentences.
“Because she’s working,” he said instead. “I don’t wanna interrupt her.”
“Please, it’s so dead in here she would probably thank you.”
“Who are you talking about?” said Dustin, trying to worm his way into the conversation.
“No one,” Steve said quickly. “Do your maze.”
He looked down at the kids menu in front of him. “I’m not a child!” he exclaimed.
“Maybe, but you love those mazes.”
He took one look at Steve before back down at his menu. Sighing in defeat he said, “Okay yeah I do…”
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It was a new record. Almost an entire day without a panic attack. The food had arrived, the kids eating like it was their last meal on earth. Meanwhile Robin took the time to neatly split her and Steve’s food in half, handing him one of the plates.
He smiled at her before diving in. Well, more like inching in. He didn’t feel too hungry, despite not eating at all that day. That was the main reason for this little outing - to get him to eat food. But as the night went on and his food was still barely touched, he knew that something deeper was happening. 
Ever since he started therapy, he had been getting better at spotting anxiety and panic attacks, even preventing a few which he was proud of. But some would start for no reason, even if he was feeling better than he had all day. Something began to rise in his chest and he knew one was coming. Apparently, Robin did too.
Over the noise of the kids debating over some new comic book, Robin asked, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Steve dismissed out of instinct. “Just gonna go to the bathroom.”
He quickly stood up, not waiting for a response. The bathroom was unlocked thankfully and looked a little disgusting. Still, he had been in worst places. Staring at the faucet he cupped his hands, splashing water on his face.
Sometimes that helped, giving his body a wake up call it didn’t know it needed. But unfortunately, it wasn't working. He felt his breaths become shorter, more labored. His heart felt like someone was squeezing it in their hands. 
He needed fresh air. Yeah, fresh air would help.
Exiting the bathroom, he was thankful to see there was a back door just a few feet away. Pushing through he was met with the cold crisp air of the back of the diner. There was some air conditioner blowing so loud he could barely hear his own thoughts. 
Picking what looked to be a clean wall, he sat down, trying to take deep breaths. His hands still shook, not slowing down despite his efforts. Nothing was working and he didn’t know why. What had even caused this panic attack? There was nothing he was scared or really anxious about to warrant this level of panic. 
He tried to remember what Dr. Ackerman told him in one of their private sessions. Sometimes panic attacks don’t need a reason for happening. 
“Harrington?”
He willed himself to look up at who was calling his name. It was Y/N, a cigarette in her hand. Perfect, just great. This is exactly how he wanted her to see him.
“Oh, hey,” he tried to say casually, trying to mask his attack. They could both tell it wasn’t working.
“Are you doing okay?”
He could tell it was more of a rhetorical question and he was too tired to lie. “I- not really. I don’t know what happened I just-”
“Hey it’s okay,” she interrupted him, crouching down to be at eye level with him. “We all get them okay?”
He nodded though his heart still felt like it was beating out of his chest. “I-I can’t stop it.”
“Have you done the method yet?” He shook his head. “Okay,” she continued, throwing her cigarette to the side before fully sitting down in front of him cross legged. “Let’s go through it, yeah?”
“Aren’t you working?”
“I’m on my break. Don’t worry about that, let’s help you okay? Name five things you can see.”
“O-okay…” he said, taking a deep breath. “Um, my shoes, those plants ... .uh the-the ground. I can see the wall and- your eyes. Shit- sorry that was weird,” he said, curling back into the wall.
“No, don’t apologize,” she told him, reaching out her hand to cover his. “Describe them to me. What do my eyes look like?”
He looked up at her - there was no hint of mockery in her face. “Well, they're vibrant, they’re a couple of different shades…they're beautiful.”
She smiled at him, not disgusted or annoyed, but genuine happiness. She chuckled, dropping her head for a moment, thanks… Now, let’s continue…”
They listed more things, following the method. With each concentration, the hold on his heart loosened more and more. He couldn’t tell if the method was working or he just liked to be in her company. Whatever it was, it worked. 
As he listed off the taste of his meal, he felt like he could finally breathe. Sighing, he let his back hit the wall. 
“Thanks for that,” he said, closing his eyes. He could still feel the pads of her fingers gently rubbing his hand.
She responded, not letting go. “Of course, we have to look out for each other.” In the distance, someone called her name. “Shit, my break is over. You think you’ll be okay?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
Slowly she stood back up. “I uh, guess I’ll see you this weekend.” She gave a small wave, not waiting for a response as she scurried back inside for the remainder of her shift. 
As he watched her walk away, he felt the urge to call her back. Her presence, the way she calmed him down - it wasn’t something he wanted to let go of. Begrudgingly, he stood up, knowing that his friends would be wondering where he was soon. He walked through the same back door, passing the bathroom before finding his friends still in the diner booth.
Robin spotted him first as he made his way over - it seemed like the others barely even noticed his absence. “Are you okay? You look pale,” she asked. 
Usually he would lie, say he was fine and tough through his emotions. But as Dr. Ackerman and later Robin told him, he needed to be more honest with his well being.
“I don’t think so. Could we skip the ice cream run tonight?”
“Of course, yeah. Let’s get going, I already paid for the food.” She turned to the kids. “Alright, let’s get you guys home.”
“What about ice cream?” Dustin asked, followed by overlapping replies from the rest of the kids.
“Not tonight. Maybe next week.”
With solemn looks on their faces, the kids slowly climbed out of the diner booth, ready to pile back into the car. Steve watched as Robin unlocked the door, letting them all climb in. While doing so, he turned back, hoping to catch Y/N one more time.
She emerged from the back with two plates of food, locking eyes with him. She gave him a smile and he already felt a million times better. Nodding at her with a grin, she knew he meant it as a thank you.
Turning around, he made his way to the car, hoping that another attack wouldn’t happen when she wasn’t there.
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For the first time since starting therapy, Steve Harrington could say he was satisfied with his progress. He had another panic attack later that week and was able to not only realize the source of it, but calm himself down in record time. Well, record time for him, at least. 
Leaving Dr. Ackerman’s office, he waved goodbye to the other patients before making a b-line to the bathrooms. His bladder was not happy about the wait.  After relieving himself, he opened the door to leave. 
“Do you usually hang out with that many kids?”
“Gah!” Steve jumped, not knowing that Y/N was standing outside smoking a cigarette like she was usually seen. “Jeez, you scared me.”
He began to walk to the building exit, her joining at his side. “Sorry, but you gotta answer the question, Harrington. It’s been bugging me since I saw you.”
Pushing open the exit doors, he said, “Uh they’re my friends so, yeah I usually hang out with them.” 
“But children?”
“They aren’t random children, okay? But yeah, they're who I’m close with,” he shrugged. “Probably my only friends if I’m being honest.”
“Huh…” Y/N replied, taking a long drag of her cig. “That’s fucking weird, Harrington. Did you and your girlfriend adopt them or something?”
He cocked his head. “Girlfriend?”
“Yeah, Buckley... Sorry, I just assumed-”
“Oh,” he replied with realization. “Buckley, no we’re just friends. She’s practically my sister.” 
“Oh okay, cool.” She took another puff.
“Do you ever think about quitting? It’s a nasty habit.”
“Yeah well, what else do I have to do?”
“Go out with me?” She turned sharply to glare at him, her eyes going wide. “Not like go out with me. Shit, I said that wrong- Hangout. I meant hangout with me. As friends!”
She still looked frozen, giving him a look he couldn’t quite read. Was that happiness? Distast? Maybe she didn’t want to try being friends with him.
“I wanna see you outside of therapy and your work ya know?” he explained, trying not to dig himself into a deeper hole. “To not listen to Matt re-explain every class he has. I mean like, we’re not the ones in school.”
She laughed at that, probably understanding what he meant. Next to them, a car pulled up to the curb. It wasn’t Robin. 
“That’s my dad,” she responded softly, walking over to the car. She turned to open the passenger door but paused and looked back at him. “Meet me at the Hideout at 7? Saturday?”
Steve couldn’t stop himself from smiling. “I’ll be there.”
She gave him one last look before climbing into the car, driving away. The smile was still plastered on Steve’s face and he couldn’t help but think that this friendship was the beginning of his new life. One where the Upside Down didn’t haunt his dreams, or where he didn’t fight any demogorgons. One where he could leave that all behind. 
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The Hideout. It sounded familiar but Steve couldn’t place why he knew it. Even as he walked into the place, he knew he had never been there before. 
It was very grungy. The floors looked like they needed a deep cleaning and the walls were covered head to toe in band posters. A bar sat on the left side of the room, perfectly out of the way of the stage on the back wall. 
Walking in, Steve opted to stand next to a high table, no chairs in sight. He figured it was just a place for people to set down their drinks. Alcohol, however, did not feel the right call. He wanted to stay alert for his first hangout with Y/N. 
As his eyes drifted across the stage, he watched a band set up their equipment. There were only four of them. A drummer, bassist, guitarist, and a rhythm guitarist. It was probably some local band he had never heard of - he didn’t really keep up with current music.
But as he looked closer, he realized that they were familiar. The guy on rhythm guitar, he had seen him before. A math class? Was that it? Slowly, it started to come to him.
This was Eddie’s band.
The room felt like it became a million times hotter as Steve began to sweat. His heart thumping faster than normal. He needed to stay calm, he needed to control his panic. 
Since Eddie died, he tried to stay away from all things related to the guy. Instead of sitting in on the last few minutes of Dustin’s dnd games, he’d wait in the car. Instead of surfing any radio channel, he made sure to skip the metal station. But there was no skipping tonight.
He recognized three of the members but there was one that was new. He had shorter hair, a lanky build and a tattoo peeking out from under the arm of his t-shirt. He didn’t look familiar - not someone he went to school with. But then it dawned on him.
He was Eddie’s replacement. Before he even had time to process that information, he felt a small hand on his back, a presence next to him. 
“Hey, you made it,” Y/N said with a smile on her face. He hadn’t seen her smile like that in a long time.
“W-whata- what…” It was like he couldn’t speak, the image of Eddie’s band moving on without him still in his mind. “W-why did you bring me here?” he finally got out.
Y/N furrowed her brows. “To see Corroded Coffin?” she responded, not really understanding what he meant. “I thought it would be fun, my brother said they’re playing a new song tonight.”
He furrowed his eyebrows. “Brother?”
“Yeah… Gareth? On the drums? I thought you remembered.” 
No, he didn’t remember. He turned back to the band setting up. Gareth was putting down the hi-hat to complete his drum set. 
Trying to stay calm, he said, “Oh cool…did uh, did you know Eddie too?”
Her face dropped slightly at the mention of his name. “Yeah, I did. He was a good guy.” All he could do was nod, taking a deep breath in. He felt her arm wrap around his. “Everything’s gonna be fine. I’m sorry I should’ve told you why we were here.”
“No it’s okay. It’s like exposure therapy.”
She chuckled, leaning her head on his shoulder. “Sure.”
It didn’t take long for them to start, the music blaring out of speakers that were too loud for the room they were in. The new guy, in place of Eddie, was singing and Steve had to admit it wasn’t bad. His heart still ached at the thought of the band having to replace their star singer. They all looked like really close friends back in school. 
They played a couple songs, and Y/N pointed out the new one that her brother had mentioned. It was good, or better than he would have thought. Steve didn’t know how much he actually liked metal music but if he had to listen to any it would be this. 
But he wasn’t really focused on the music, more of the person standing next to him. He tried not to stare but she was so memorizing. Singing along to the songs she knew, bobbing her head to the ones she didn’t. It was nice seeing her outside the context of therapy. He also wasn’t complaining that her arm was still wrapped around his for a majority of the night.
As the new lead singer thanked the small crowd, leaving as they cheered, Steve felt Y/N tug his arm.
“Come on, let’s go say hello,” she said, pulling him through the crowd.
“S-say hello?” he asked. “Like to the band?”
“Duh,” she replied, waving at a bouncer guarding the backstage door. “We aren’t gonna see my brother perform and then leave.”
The corridor backstage was busier than he thought it would be. The bar was small but it sure didn’t feel like that. People were walking up and down, some running like it was Madison Square Garden. He couldn’t tell who worked there, performed, or were just groupies stopping by. 
Turning right, they were met face to face with the green room, a written sign saying Corroded Coffin taped to the door. Y/N smiled at him before she reached for the handle, turning it to reveal a very hectic room.
The band members were just chatting but it sounded like shouting. It all halted when they walked in. 
“Y/N!” Garrett exclaimed, running over to hug her.
“You did great tonight, honestly all of you did,” she told him.
“And the new song?”
“Better than I could’ve imagined.”
Garret turned to look at Steve, his expression changing to something of confusion. “What is he doing here?”
“You brought Steve Harrington?” Jeff, the rhythm guitarist, chimed in.
Y/N turned to look at Steve confused. “I thought you said you knew Eddie?” 
“I-I did,” he told her, suddenly aware of how many eyes were staring at him. He looked around the room quickly before back at her. “I- just not with his usual crowd…”
The band continued to give him a blank stare.
“I know Dustin, Lucas, and Mike? I know you used to play dnd together,” he added.
Grant, the bassist, crossed his arms. “You know Henderson?” he asked. 
Steve nodded. “He’s like a little brother to me.”
They stared in silence at him and what was probably five seconds felt like eternity. It wasn’t until Jeff shrugged and spoke up that Steve realized his heart rate was quickening. 
“I guess you're okay then,” Jeff said, “As long as you don’t try to shove us into lockers.”
If Jeff didn’t chuckled he would have if he was serious. His laugh rippled throughout the room, breaking the tension and it was like life started again. Joints were lit, drinks were poured, and Steve’s past was left forgotten.
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“Can I ask you something?” Steve asked. He walked next to Y/N in the cold, night air, the only sound audible coming from the shuffling of their shoes. 
“Sure,” she said, reaching into her pocket to grab a cigarette.
“That first time we talked, like at Dr Ackerman’s…you mentioned someone named Gary.” He felt her stiffen next to him, a slight stutter in her step. “Who was he?”
Dropping her head to the unlit cigarette, she decided to shove it back into her pocket. He instantly regretted asking. 
Apologizing, he said, “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have asked.”
“No, it’s okay…” she waved off. “Exposure therapy, right?” she said, repeating his words from earlier in the night, letting him know it was okay. “Gary was my neighbor in my freshman year dorms. We hit it off really quick and started to date.”
She looked at the ground as she talked, hands shoved into her pockets. Steve however, couldn’t take his gaze off her. 
“He was fine, uh, a good boyfriend. Well, at first…” she took a pause, almost long enough that he was thinking he should say something.
Luckily, she continued. “He stumbled into my room really drunk one night…tried to take advantage of me.” She shrugged, actually shrugged, like what she just told him was nothing. “I pushed him off me and he went blabbing to everyone that I was an attention seeking whore. All my friends stopped talking to me, even my roommate…and the administration wouldn’t do anything about it even though he, you know…”
She trailed off as she kicked a rock with her shoe and Steve could feel his heart breaking into a million pieces. How could someone, anyone, do that sort of thing? Not even when he was considered King Steve would he force himself onto a girl. 
Y/N sighed. “It was like high school was repeating itself, you know? I didn’t get to have my fresh start.”
He nodded, trying to understand what she went through. They never ran in the same circles in high school, but it was hard not to hear the rumors going around about who she was sleeping with. He assumed Billy was the one to start them and let it be. Looking back, he wished he had stood up for her. 
“It sucks,” he began warily, not knowing if it was okay to speak. When she looked up at him, it gave him the courage to continue. “When other people decide who they think you are. I-I mean, I didn’t go through that but I do have problems with the way people perceive me, my reputation.”
“I-I mean that’s when all my panic attacks started I just- I couldn’t stay there. It’s so stupid…”
“It’s not!” Steve reassured her. “Not stupid in the slightest. I would have left too if it were me. I mean, I didn’t even get into college. There was nowhere for me to run.” The more he began to speak of his own problems, the more anxious he became. “Not that what I went through was worse than you, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to turn the conversation on to me-”
“-No, Steve, it’s okay. I get it, you’re just trying to relate to me.” He nodded - it was like she took the words right out of his mouth. “Could we go back to yours? If I remember those high school parties correctly, you have a pool.”
“Sure. Y-yeah cool,” he blubbered. He couldn’t remember the last time talking to a girl made him anxious like this. Trying to catch his cool, they headed toward Loch Nora. 
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“The back door should be unlocked,” Steve informed Y/N as they approached his house. 
It wasn’t a far walk from the bus stop they got off on and he could still see his car parked in the driveway - but only his car. Robin had told him ahead of time that she was going to sleep at her own home for once that week - her parents wanting to see more of her.
“Wow, it’s exactly how I remembered it,” Y/N commented as he opened the back gate.
He looked back at her. “You remember what my house looks like?”
Shrugging, she said, “Like I said, I went to a couple of your parties.” The pool’s lights illuminated the otherwise dark backyard, steam rising from its surface. “Now this is what I’m talking about.”
Without warning, Y/N pulled her shirt off, moving to pull down her pants. Steve’s eyes went wide, turning around to give her privacy. “What are you doing?”
“Getting in your pool? I don’t know about you, Harrington, but I don’t carry a bathing suit with me.”
“I guess…” Steve said, suddenly unsure of their plan. 
It was just like a bikini right? Only it felt so much more intimate. He heard a splash from behind him, a gasp as she rose to the surface for air. 
“You coming in?”
Slowly he turned around facing her as she grazed her hands over the surface of the water. She looked so majestic with her hair slicked back. He felt like deer in headlights as he looked at her. He could go inside, grab one of the many swimming trunks he had in his closet. But instead, he opted to strip down to his boxers, leveling the playing field. 
He could tell she was surprised, not thinking he would do the same thing as her. But nonetheless he jumped right in. The splash completely covered her but she didn’t seem to mind, already dunking her head moments before. When he rose to the surface, he inhaled deeply. 
“Hey!” She exclaimed, wiping water from her eyes. 
“You were already wet!” He retorted.
Without warning, she lunged herself at him. Steve felt as she collided with his chest, sending him falling back into the water, taking her with him. He barely had enough time to breathe before he felt himself submerged back under the surface. On instinct, an arm wrapped around her midsection, balancing her against him as he used his legs to push them back up for air.
Breaking the surface tension, he felt Y/N cling to him, her arms wrapping around his neck as she tried to balance against his bent knee. They were both gasping for air, taking a moment to recover. But the moment she looked up at him, those beautiful eyes he stared into at the diner, it was like a damn broke. 
She smiled, letting out a giggle and he too couldn’t keep a straight face. As her face buried in his neck he asked, “What was that for?”
“I don’t know, it looked like you needed to have fun,” she responded. 
“So you pushed me.”
Y/N lifted her head from his neck, her hands still around his neck. “You’re a very pushable person.”
“Oh am I?”
“Definitely.” She giggled, her fingers absentmindedly playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. “I could stay like this forever.”
Steve smiled, his cheeks getting warmer. “Me too. It’s like a little pocket out of time. We don’t have to think about the future.”
“Or the past…” She was silent for a second, her fingers still moving and Steve tried his best to stay still. A beautiful girl was practically sitting on his lap and he was trying to hard to not fuck it up. 
“That first session, you talked about all the loss you’ve been around. Is there a reason for that?”
“Interdimensional monsters,” he blurted out. It felt good to say the truth even if it was met with a laugh. Who would believe in another dimension anyway?
“Fine don’t tell me,” she said, letting her hands rest on his shoulders. 
The cool touch of her fingers spread across him, down through his chest. It was hard to stop thinking about how little fabric separated them, especially with the way her fingers grazed his skin.
For a moment he almost swore she looked down at his lips. “I bet…” she began, tilting her head back to show her thinking. “That you have daddy issues.”
“Who doesn’t?”
She giggled, her forehead tipping forward, almost touching his. A piece of hair fell across her face and without thinking he reached up to brush it away. Y/N looked up at him, their eyes meeting as he softly pushed the strand behind her ear. 
This time, he knew for certain, she had looked at his lips, right after he did the same.
The little space left between them closed as Y/N leaned forward, capturing his mouth. It was softer than he would had thought. Her rough exterior not matching her tender touch. He felt her arms wrap back around him, fingers gripping his hair. He let out a moan, tightening the grip he had on her waist.
She pulled back for a moment, only to tilt her head to the other side, her lips crashing back down on his. A small whimper let out from her mouth and Steve felt like he died and went to heaven. He wanted to hear it again, to be the only one that made her sound that way. It was intoxicating, like a vampire thirsting for blood. 
He let his kisses trail down her cheek, reattaching himself to her throat. She moaned even louder and he never wanted to let go. 
“That feels nice,” she said, breathlessly. The grip on his hair grew tighter but he didn’t mind. She could poke, pull, or prod, any part of him and he would let her.
“You feel nice.”
Without meaning too, she pressed down on his lap. And even through their underwear and the water of the pool, Steve felt ecstatic. He detached himself from her neck gasping at the pressure. 
“Jesus Christ,” he murmured to himself but it might have been louder than he expected. 
Y/N looked up at him with a smile. But as her eyes found his, Steve was confused as to why it started to vanish. Detaching herself from him, he watched as she floated away until her back hit the pool wall. 
Something was wrong, he just knew it. Was it something he did or said? Was it the kiss?
“I should probably go,” she told him, pulling herself out of the pool. 
“Oh,” he said in surprise. Why the rush to leave so quickly? “Okay…”
As he joined her by the lounging chairs, he watched as she tried to put a leg through her pants. 
“Wait,” he stopped her, putting a hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him before straightening her back. “Don’t put your clothes over your wet ones.”
“How else would I-“
He interrupted her, knowing if he didn’t say what was in his mind he’d lose the courage to say it. 
“-you can stay. Like, stay over?”
Why was he this nervous? He had plenty of girls over before. But with her, things felt different. Y/N raised her eyebrows at his comment. 
“If you want to,” he rushed out to say. “You could take a shower, I could dry your clothes and-“
“Okay,” she spoke over him. 
It felt like all the air left his body. “Yeah?” He asked again for reassurance. Slowly she nodded, a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “Okay yeah. Cool, um…this way.”
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Steve’s hands twitched nervously as he sat on his bed. Y/N was in the shower, due to come out any minute. It wasn’t like he hadn’t had a girl over before. Just that the last person to sleep in his bed broke his heart. They had shared a space, gotten warm together under his blankets, baked in the morning sun. It held more meaning to him than he realized before.
As he clutched his hands, trying to calm himself down, the door creaked open. He looked up, watching as Y/N hesitantly peered in. As soon as he saw her face, it was like there was a calm that washed over him. The idea of having someone sleep in his bed filled him with anxiety, but when he saw Y/N it all faded away. He wanted her next to him, he wanted to share his space with her. 
Closing the door behind her, Y/N stood awkwardly across the room. But Steve couldn’t help but smile. She looked so cute in his clothes, the fabric clinging to her skin in ways that left little to the imagination. 
“I left the towel in the laundry room,” she said. “I hope that was okay.” 
“Yeah,” he said quickly, being pulled from his thoughts. “Yup that’s okay. I already started the load on drying your clothes.” 
“Cool,” she said, intertwining her fingers in front of her. 
Steve motioned to his bed. “Do you prefer a side or-”
She shook her head. “Nope. I-I’m fine with either.”
Steve hummed an agreement, moving to take the ride side of the bed. He watched her join on the other side as he pushed the covers back. They both had romantic experiences; both sleeping with someone else in their bed. But in the moment, it felt like they were little kids again.
Steve carefully covered both of them, sinking back down into his mattress. He tried not to touch her, to give her space after what happened in the pool. And with her past, he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. Starting at the ceiling he heard Y/N sigh. Turning his head he could see her covering her face.
“Are you okay?” He asked, turning to face her. “D-do you want to sleep in my parents room? They’re not home-”
“No, this is perfectly fine just,” she dropped her hands onto her chest as she stared up, not meeting his gaze. He could see her eyes getting watery, a tear on the verge of falling. “I-I don’t wanna do anything with you like- sexually. And I’m sorry if that’s blunt but after everything with Gary-”
“Hey, it’s okay,” he reassured her to try and show her this was a safe space. “I wasn’t expecting to, honestly.”
She turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow. “Really?” she asked, not convinced. 
“Really,” he replied. “I haven’t really been the same since Nance and I broke up and- nevermind it’s not important. I could leave if this is too much.”
“No I want you here I really do I’m just…confused. I don’t know.” 
She buried her head in her hands again, probably to stop him from seeing her start to cry. Steve ached for her. To see her like this, to know that this was the fault of another person. That a person could do that to someone else. 
“I’ll sleep on the floor,” he told her, moving the comforter aside. “That way we won’t be alone but we can have our space.”
She looked back at him, her cheeks wet with tears. “No, I don't wanna make you sleep on the floor in your own room.”
“It’s nothing really,” he dismissed, grabbing his pillow and a spare blanket that was thrown across his desk chair. “Trust me, I’ve slept in worse places than on a rugged floor.”
“If I wasn’t a mess right now I’d ask you to elaborate.”
He fluffed his pillow, pulling the blanket up over his shoulders. Y/N peered over the bed, still unsure of the sleeping arrangement though he could tell it was putting her more at ease. 
“A conversation for another time,” he said and he swore he could see a smile on his face.
“Okay,” she said softly, her head disappearing as she laid back down on the bed. 
There was silence for a moment and Steve thought that she had fallen asleep. But her soft voice glided through the air. 
“Steve?” she asked.
“Yeah?”
There was another beat. Another moment of silence before he heard her whisper, “Thank you.”
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Even on the floor of his room, the sun found a way to shine on his face. The warm light slowly woke him up, making him rub his eyes in an attempt to not blind himself. He almost forgot he was on the floor of his room until he rolled over to open his nightside drawer, feeling his hand brush against the floor instead. 
As his eyes came into focus, he willed himself to sit up. Why was he on the floor again? Right, Y/N. Beautiful Y/N who should be asleep on his bed. But as he leaned his head up to see over the edge of the mattress, he was met with an empty bed. The covers were made neatly, all pillows back in place, as if no one had even slept there the night before. 
Steve rubbed his eyes, like if he cleared himself from his sleepy haze she would materialize in his room. But as his eyes began to focus again, he found he was still alone. Grunting, he stood up, pulling the pillow and blanket he had used with him. He looked around the room and it seemed that nothing was out of place.
Did he imagine last night? Did he feel so alone that he willed himself to believe that Y/N actually slept over? His eyes continued to scan for anything out of place, a breath of relief when they landed on his dresser.
The clothes he had lent her were neatly stacked on his desk and if he had to guess, her drying clothes in the laundry room would be gone. So he hadn’t imagined it. What happened? Why was she in such a rush to leave?
Maybe she regretted the night before, thinking he hadn’t changed since his days at King Steve. Perhaps the kiss was too much and she regretted it. Steve’s mind spiraled down a dark hole he knew too well. If he didn’t stop now, he would trigger another panic attack.
Taking a moment before getting ready for the day, he sat down on his bed, closing his eyes. He just needed to breathe. In and out, in and out. Over and over again he focused on his breath, letting all his energy go into calming himself down.
He needed to talk to Y/N. To clarify everything from last night before it ate away at him. 
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Steve drove himself to therapy the following week. Partly because Robin was still back at her parents, and partly because he needed more time to think. As the time of the group session approached, he felt his heart rate begin to rise. His thoughts raced faster than they did when he woke up to find her gone.
He just needed to get there. Seeing her would calm him, reassure him that he didn’t fuck up. But as he parked his car and raced inside, he was saddened to find that she wasn’t there. Maybe she was just late. She had been late in the past, it was logical to assume she could be late today. 
Matt and Sam had tried to talk to him but he only politely nodded as they spoke. His tongue felt too heavy in his mouth. Like lifting it to speak would only result in incoherent babbling. Thankfully, Dr. Ackerman’s presence let him stay silent. 
The session began and Steve found himself staring at the door. He nodded, giving short answers when required but his attention was still trained on the closed door. She had to walk through the door. To join their weekly sessions. But as the topic drifted from one person to another, Y/N never arrived. 
Steve was quick to leave, rushing to the parking lot to see if she had missed the session and was just arriving. To his disappointment, she wasn’t there. Not even a lingering smell of cigarettes in the air from her usual smoking spot. 
He arrived early for the next session, and the next, and soon a whole month went by without her attending. Every session his eyes stayed on the door, willing her to walk through. Maybe if he was like Eleven, telepathically gifted, he could find out where she was. No, he thought. Even with those powers, it would be an invasion of privacy. And he didn’t want to be where he wasn’t welcomed. 
Robin had been spending more and more time with her parents to figure out packing for the fall semester so Steve had been driving himself more often in Y/N’s absence.
Another missed therapy session had him driving home in silence, not even the radio playing to fill the void. His fingers tapped against the steering wheel in an irregular pattern as he turned onto his street. Slowly, his house came into view and he could see the vague outline of someone sitting on the front steps. 
That’s weird, he thought to himself. Robin had a key, most people in the party did for emergencies. So why was she waiting outside?
As he pulled closer, almost fully into the driveway, his eyes adjusted. It wasn’t Robin, or anyone he had fought monsters with. It was Y/N. 
Y/N, smoking a cigarette as she patiently waited for him to come home. He felt himself falter, his foot almost slamming on the brakes. She was here, more beautiful than the last time he saw her – though it was pretty hard for her to look anything but perfect. 
The engine revved as he pulled into the driveway, pulling Y/N’s attention to him. Quickly, she stood up, putting her cigarette out with the heel of her shoe. Steve felt glued to the inside of the car. Their eyes had met, not separating as he put in the car in park. All he wanted was to get out and speak to her. But something in his chest tightened. If she had been avoiding him for the past week, she had her reasons. And part of him didn’t want to know for certain he was the problem.
He tried to move, he truly did. But his anxiety was ruling over his brain and he didn’t know how to stop it. Thankfully, Y/N seemed to notice. Moving forward, she opened his passenger door and climbed in. He never took his eyes off her, even when she turned her back to close the door. 
Turning back to him, she weakly said, “Hey.”
“H-hi,” he managed to blurt out. Silence hung in the air, as he figured out what to say. Y/N continued to speak. “Sorry to show up at your house, I didn’t mean to be a bother.”
“You’re not a bother,” he blurted out. “Y-you’re never a bother.”
He was looking directly into her eyes, his gaze never wavering. It didn’t break until Y/N looked down at her lap and he could have sworn he saw a small smile form on her lips. A moment passed, then two, and neither of them talked. 
Despite being uncomfortable with long silences, Steve didn’t seem to mind. He didn’t feel like his social battery drained when he was around her. If anything, she made him feel more alive. She knew what he was going through, one of the best kept secrets in his life and she knew. 
“I missed you,” she said softly, still looking down at her lap.
“I’ve missed you too…Louise keeps talking about her one night stands and I don’t think I can take any more of it,” he said, gaining back some composure from earlier.
Y/N laughed, her shoulders hunching forward. She looked back up at him, her eyes darting back and forth between the two of his. As the smile slowly faded from her face, her eyes remained on his. It was clear she wanted to talk about what happened. Maybe she just needed a push.
“Do you…wanna talk about it?” Steve asked. 
She shook her head slightly. “I don’t know it’s just – when I woke up in your room, my mind immediately went back to Gary.” She paused for a moment and he let her gather her thoughts. “I just went into a spiral like I did with him. Like did I force you to kiss me? Did you really want me sleeping in your bed or did I coerce you to? What would people think if they see the town whore sleeping with the former king of Hawkins High just – it’s stupid, I’m sorry.”
“It’s not stupid,” he said immediately, reaching his hands out on the center console. He didn’t want to touch her without asking, but wanted to let her know he was there if she needed to. He sighed. 
“I didn’t expect to kiss you that night,” he continued. She looked up at him, biting the inside of her cheek. “But that didn’t mean I didn’t want you to. You in no way forced me to kiss you…and I was the one who wanted you to stay. I-I should’ve been more vocal so you didn’t feel forced to.”
Y/N nodded, leaning forward with her hands on the center console, not quite touching his. 
“If you want to keep seeing me, friend or something more, I promise I will walk you through everything thought in my head so we’re on the same page.”
She raised an eyebrow, some color coming back to her face. “Every thought?”
He nodded. “Oh for sure. Like how I’ve been craving a ham and cheese sandwich since I woke up this morning.” She giggled again at his obvious attempt to make her feel better. “And like how I’d really like to hold your hand right now.”
He stared at her in his car, the sun slowly setting outside, and felt the touch of her fingers against his. It felt like an immediate release, a tightness he didn’t know was there unfolding in his chest. 
“I would like to keep seeing you too,” she told him, and it was like his heart was doing a million leaps of joy. “I don’t know if I can handle anything more right now,”
“-and that is completely fine with me,” he reassured her quickly, feeling a tight squeeze of reassurance in his hand.
“Thank you for understanding. In the future, if I’m ready…I’d like to explore that possibility with you.”
Steve gave her a big grin, not trying to hide what he was feeling. “Good, uh, that’s good to know.”
They sat in his car, hands intertwined like the rest of the world didn’t matter. Like their pasts and reputations didn’t haunt them like a shadow. For now, they had each other and that was all they could ask for. 
Steve didn’t need some fancy school or big corporate job. Just someone who understood him, who knew what it was like to feel the things he felt and not be judged. 
He was happy he finally found someone who did just that.
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Taglist: @afraidofshrimp @halflifejess @nix-rose @palmtreesx3 @cilliansnostolgia @sweetdazequeen
233 notes · View notes
loveshotzz · 14 hours
Note
what are some steve fics u find yourself going back to reread
pbv! steve by @carolmunson
slow motion love potion by @upsidedownwithsteve
boxer!steve by @rustedhearts
baby, kiss me by @superblysubpar
it’s simple and it goes like this by @usedtobecooler
wicked games by @stevenose
aftermath by @sweetsweetjellybean
152 notes · View notes
calumfmu · 2 days
Note
steve who steals eddie’s girl 😉 sorry eddie
Hiii babe, ugh I love this idea. Took a little different route with it, hope that's okay. 2.4k+ words of pure smut, so here we go. Steve x reader (steals her from Eddie) cw: 18+, mdni, pure smut, p in v, unprotected sex, eating out reader, fingering, cream pie, cheating (don't do it pls), reader is a bad person sorry y'all <3
You sat in the crowded living room, bodies pressed against one another, dense smoke filling the air, fragrant smell of liquor filling the room as the liquid splashed from cups onto the wood floor. Eddie sat by your side, hand on your knee to comfort you, other one stretched out in a deal, cash taken in as a baggie of marijuana left it.
You hated these things, or so you claimed. Hated being around his dealings, wanted to be as far from it as possible. He had to make a living somehow, so you preferred that ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ model that silently governed your relationship.
“You okay, hon?” Eddie whispered to you, you responded with a subtle nod, eyes searching the crowd. He hummed, returning to another ‘patron’ as he called it, them sitting across from him.
It had been suspicious, you jumping at the offer to attend Eddie’s deal, at the ever so famous Steve Harrington’s house party. They weren’t friends, far from it, only in communication when the latter wanted drugs.
‘It’s no big deal,’ you muttered, hurriedly applying blush to your cheeks. You stared at yourself in the vanity of your room, Eddie lingering behind you with his arms crossed.
‘You never want to come,’ he bluntly stated, watching your makeup appear on your face. ‘Why now?’
You threw down the brush, hearing the clatter of it hitting the wood. Turning in your seat, you made eye contact with him, eyes wide as you put on a pout.
‘A girl can’t want to spend time with her handsome boyfriend?’
It did the trick. Eddie folding immediately, smile brushing his features as he gave his interrogation up. You slowly turned back to the mirror, masking the guilt that came up with a smear of lipstick on your mouth. He didn’t have to know the real reason behind wanting to attend, he couldn’t know.
He appeared in the crowd, his perfectly coiffed hair, voluminous as ever, perfectly mole dotted face smiling brightly as he greeted the people in his home. It was like time stopped, a light shining down from heaven as you watched him.
You felt Eddie’s hand slip from your knee, meeting the aluminum tin that sat in his lap.
Steve crossed the room closer in your direction, eyes searching the crowd one final time before they landed on you, smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. There was a barely there nod of his head, gesturing upstairs as his gaze danced between you and the man who sat beside you.
Before you could gesture anything back, he disappeared, swallowed up by the crowds around him. You shot up, smoothing down the skirt on your thighs.
“Where you going?” Eddie asked, hand finding your wrist as you took a step. His eyes were concerned, wide as he looked up at you.
“Uhhh… bathroom,” you said, pulling away from him before you could say anything else. Something was shouted at you from him, but you ignored it, set on your path to locate the Harrington boy.
Clearing the stairs, you wandered down the hall, opening and shutting unlocked doors in your path. Just as you were about to give up on your search, a door opened to your left, a pair of hands pulling you in swiftly with the shut of door behind you.
“Jesus, Steve,” you whisper-shouted, throwing your fists at his chest, as he pulled you into him. His hands were on your waist, tight grip as he began to nuzzle his face into your neck.
“Missed you,” he muttered, pressing light kisses to the area. Your head tilted back, eyes fluttering shut as the wetness of his mouth found that sensitive spot under your ear.
“We, ah,” you moaned, lifting onto the bathroom counter as Steve began to take off your clothes, an article of his being thrown off in between every two items of your own. He left his jeans on, unbuttoned at the top. “We gotta be quick.”
“Lover boy’s here?”
His voice was strained as he began to kiss down your chest, his fingers pulling down your bra to mouth at your nipple, the cold air hardening it immediately. Your back arched at the touch, mouth dropping open as pleasure took over you.
His fingers dipped low, toying at the hem of your panties as his mouth licked at your breast, sucking and nipping lightly. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling, urging a moan out of his mouth.
“Come on, Steve,” you rushed, pushing his head slightly as he teased you by pressing a few kisses to your sternum. His eyes were looking at yours, that familiar look glinting behind them as an eyebrow arched.
“Gotta beg for it, honey,” he teased, that nickname falling from his lips with a hint of sarcasm. He made fun of the way Eddie said it, hating the way he got to call you that in public. “You know how this works.”
You leaned back all the way, shoulder blades hitting the cool glass of the mirror. Your legs spread, inviting him in further as he fell to his knees. His fingers slowly pulled down your underwear, teasing in fashion as he pressed kisses to your legs where they got caught.
“Steve,” you dragged out, massaging his scalp. “Need it.”
“Need what?” He licked at the top of your thigh.
“I need you, Steve.”
“Steve?” He mocked, pressing a kiss right above your clit.
“Baby.” You corrected, trying to pull him in.
He leaned back slightly, pushing at your hands. “Uh uh.”
Fuck. Your head hit the glass, loud sound filling the room.
“Baby, I need you so bad,” you whined, spreading your legs even further. He kissed the side of your slit, wetness pressing at the corner of his mouth. “It hurts.”
He smirked, satisfied as he leaned in to your wet cunt, tongue diving in. He started out slow, tongue lapping up your wetness, dipping between your folds. It was different than the other times you had done this, normally rushed hand jobs given under bleachers, you bent down in the back of his car, sneaking into your bedroom in the middle hours of the night.
His tongue traced circles around your clit, massaging the bud as you nearly rose off the counter, whimpering at the press of his finger to your hole.
“Just like that, baby.”
You moaned, eyes rolling back as he moved his tongue side to side, head in tune with the movement. He was eating you like he was starved, sucking at your clit harshly, loud slurping noises filling the air. His finger slipped in, curling against your spongy wall, hitting that spot almost immediately.
You cried out, thighs quivering as a pool of wetness escaped you, hitting his tongue. He moaned at the taste of you, delving in deeper, tongue joining his finger inside of you. Another one of his digits entered, spreading you wide as he scissored them in and out, deep as they could go.
“I want you to cum for me, honey,” he whispered against you, flat of his tongue licking up your slit. You looked down to find him staring, face shiny with your slick. “Wanna taste you.”
You mewled at him, resting you thigh on his shoulder, hooking your ankle to bring him in closer. His response to it was loud, one of his hands leaving your thigh to press at the front of his pants from where he kneeled.
His movements increased, your orgasm drawing in closer as he fingered you, wet noises becoming louder. Your abdomen tightened, mind blanking as it coursed through you, mouth dropped open in a silent scream. You could feel him smirking at your cunt, tongue lightly lapping over your sensitive clit, laughing as you pushed him off of you.
He attempted leaning in once more, your hands pulling him up to you by his collar.
“We don’t have a lot of time, baby,” you said, hands pushing down his jeans in a rush you hadn’t seen before. His hands raised to his sides, letting you free him as his clothes were shoved to his mid thigh.
His cock sprung free, swollen and red, precum pooled at the tip as it hit the air. It was mouth watering, the sight in front of you, his dark thatch of hair nestling his cock, the sheer length of it needing to be felt everywhere.
Your hand began to work it, squeezing at the head, watching the liquid drip from the top. Steve’s breath became shallow, his head dropped low as he stared down at your hand.
“Fuck, honey, I’m not gonna last,” he shook his head, taking a step closer to you, a chaste kiss being pressed to your mouth.
He shook your hand from him, replacing it with his own as he lined himself up with you, other hand pulling you closer to the edge of the counter. Immediately, your knees locked at the side of his hips, full access given to him.
Slowly pressing in, the two of you groaned, eyes closing briefly as you sheathed him. His hips stuttered before he pressed to the hilt, waiting a moment before he thrusted again, the force of it shifting your hips on the counter.
“Fuck, baby.”
“Tell me how good it feels,” he groaned, wrapping his arms around you as the two of you rocked together. Your hand shot out, steadying yourself on the surface as items clattered off of the counter, falling to the floor.
“So fu-fucking good, baby.”
“You like when I fuck you, hon?”
“Love it, ah fuck, I love it, I love it.” Your rambles made no sense, babbling escaping your mouth as you became cock-drunk, mind only focused on him.
“I’m gonna make you mine,” he whispered into your hair, hips slamming into yours. He was close, you could tell by the deep breaths he took, the faltering of his hips as he tried to maintain a rhythm.
You are getting close yourself, his hand dipping low to rub circles at your clit, quick, in tune with his thrusts. It built between your legs, legs shaking as you drew your knee up his side. Another item went flying off the counter, his other hand shooting up to press on the counter as he neared his high.
“I’m already yours.”
With a low groan, he came, eyes squeezing shut as he fucked you through it, shallow thrusts riding out his orgasm. You followed his lead, the attention on your clit becoming too much in combination with his movements.
Catching your breath, he remained in you, his mouth pressed to the top of your head as you leaned into him, chest heaving. If the setting was different, you could fall asleep right then and there, safe and sound in his arms.
A loud knock on the door brought you out of your shared high. That ever so familiar voice sounded out through the door, calling out your name.
“You in there? Someone said they saw you,” Eddie called out, voice sounding worried. You shushed Steve as he pulled away from you, leisurely pulling his clothes on as you rushed, scared in your movements.
“I’m fine!” You called out, eyeing the way Steve shook his head at you, mouthing ‘No!’ His hands gripped at his own throat, tongue sticking out as he exaggerated a charade of throwing up. You made a face at him, yet following his lead. “I got sick ac-actually! Must’ve ate something bad, just give me a minute!”
There was a moment of silence, the subtle signs of Eddie behind the door.
“Uh.. alright. I’ll be downstairs, okay?” His footsteps were heard as they walked away. Steve turned to you, eyebrows cocked in amusement.
“You’re a terrible liar,” he laughed, dodging the hit you threw in his direction. “But it’s time for you to make your decision, hon.”
You looked at him funny, confused at where he was going. He leaned against the door frame, eyes running over your body as you pulled your shirt on.
“You said you’re already mine, so time to prove it,” he smirked, winking at you. You flushed in your face, suddenly becoming shy.
“Steve—I don’t even know what to sa—“
“Just go home, pretend you’re sick or something, and I’ll pick you up,” he said, walking towards you to grab your face between his hands. He pecked your nose, wide, brown eyes taking up his features.
“W-what about the party?” You were still on your high, voice shaking from the come down that started to take place.
“I don’t care,” he scoffed, laughing as he adjusted your bra strap. It poked out of your shirt, his careful fingers putting it back into place. “I’ll figure it out. What you have to worry about is being ready later.”
You opened your mouth to say something, immediately shutting it as Steve exited it, winking at you one last time. Moving into the hallway to go after him, he was gone, out of sight like he was never even there. You made your way down the steps, feet heavy as you saw your long haired boyfriend leaning against the banister.
He perked up when he saw you, standing to full attention as you neared him. You crossed your arms over your chest, avoiding the excessive eye contact he gave you.
“Hey honey,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to your cheek. His smile dipped when you moved away from it, faux smile of your own coming up to mask it.
“Sorry—I just… sorry,” you said, beginning to walk in front of him as you lead the way to his van.
“It’s okay,” he said, jogging slightly to catch up to him. He took your hand into his own, pulling it away from its perch on your chest. “We could do something, you know, to get your mind off of you being sick. Watch a movie at mine? Like normal?”
You stayed silent for a minute, thinking of your options. On one hand, you had Eddie, sweet, caring Eddie, bad boy presenting nerd, quite possibly the healthiest relationship you’d been in. But you were bored. On the other hand, there was Steve. Fucked like he loved you, pretty boy, not the brightest one, but God, did you love that about him.
It was now or never. You looked at Eddie, features melting as he smiled down at you, his toothy grin adorned with dimples. His curly hair fell around his face, brown eyes nearly black, huge on his face. He was perfect. Everything you had asked for in a boyfriend, and you got it.
“I think I’m just gonna go home, Eds. Not really feeling that good. That okay?” You avoided his eyes, that same guilt bubbling up.
“Yeah, honey. Whatever you want,” he pressed one more kiss to your head and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him.
Masterlist. Inbox and requests are open <3
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wtfsteveharrington · 2 days
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- stranger things masterlist -
18+ minors dni | please check content warnings
✨ - smut | ♡ - fluff | 🥀 - angst
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
DUOS
steve harrington x robin buckley - fem!reader
you’re dating steve & you think robin’s hot. literally almost 23k words of smut and banter.
✨ tequila & strawberry lipgloss | part one
✨ coffee & mint chapstick | part two
✨ chai & hot pink lipstick | part three
✨ vodka & watermelon chapstick | part four
INDIVIDUAL
steve harrington | blurbs | fic recs
♡ grocery shopping - gn!reader
a lil domestic piece about boyfriend steve following you around the store & doing his best
✨put away my pride - gn!reader
roommate!steve. you find him late one night & steve offers to help take care of your frustrations.
✨ sorry to interrupt - fem!reader
set during s4 where steve sleeps next to you instead of in the basement & escalates from there
✨ what i’m waiting for - fem!reader
period sex!! written lower case & bullet point style.
eddie munson | blurbs |fic recs
✨ & ♡ something i don’t know - gn!reader
eddie’s hand is around your neck and you can’t help your reaction, much to his entertainment
♡ dungeon master - fem!reader
blurb about eddie’s greatest campaign but it literally warms my heart and i wanna share it
robin buckley | blurbs |fic recs
coming soon
chief hopper
✨ come by the station - fem!reader
you surprise your boyfriend at work by pretending you need to file a police report. needless to say it escalates from there.
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itsriabby · 3 days
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Ok but imagine Steve coming home late after a long day at work. He gets in and calls out for you while he takes off his jacket and hangs it up. He leaves his keys on the little table by the door and after calling you a couple more times, he gets a bit anxious when you don’t answer him. His heart picks up and he starts looking for you all over the house, feet quick and breathing quicker. He knows everything that happened with Vecna is gone now, but what if it’s not? What if they took you? What if you’re down there again? What if your hurt-
Suddenly, in the middle of his worry attack, he hears rustling of bedsheets. The bedroom. He gets to the room, and slowly opens up the ajar door.
Oh. You were just sleeping. Everything is fine. You’re fine. You’re safe.
He lets out a breath of relief and gets closer to you. He looks at you, really looks at you. At your relaxed expression, and he finally calms down. Even asleep, you’re so beautiful. Looking at you, he really forgets about all the ugliness in the world, all the horrors, all the violence, all evil. You’re everything that’s right in his life, and he really doesn’t know what he’d do without you.
And so, he doesn’t even care that he’s hungry and hasn’t eaten all day, he just takes off his uniform and slips into bed next to you. You curl up to him unconsciously, and he swears he’s the luckiest guy in the world.
Because he’s got you. And he’ll do anything to protect you, even if it means fighting democreatures in another dimension. Again.
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queenimmadolla · 1 day
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if god was real, i’d be in a hot bubble bath with my back pressed against Steve’s wet, hairy chest.
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wittyminds · 2 days
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More Than A Feeling
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This was just a random idea to distract me from revising for my exams. I'm slightly obsessed with him at the moment and just wanted to write some fluff that would make me even more sad than i already am. I know I also said that I would be doing a bucky barnes fic but... i got distracted and now can't commit to writing it. I'll probably write it eventually but i can't bring myself to do it right now.
I was also listening to More Than A Feeling by Boston when writing this so... it stuck.
Just a small fic of Steve Harrington and a bookworm reader girlfriend who is also Dustin's sister after their first time and the "chaos" that ensues.
Warnings: Fluff fluff fluff, Suggestive, Both Steve's and Reader's 'first time'
Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader
Dustin couldn't understand how it all happened or exactly when you stopped disliking the King of Hawkins but he was convinced it would all end in heartbreak. He did like Steve Harrington after he protected them all from all the dangers they had faced over the years. But dating his sister was a different matter.
To say he is overprotective of you would be an understatement.
You had spent your entire life protecting him from bullies and assholes and now it was his turn to keep you from the possible heartbreak that was Steve Harrington.
So when he peaked through the door to your room and saw the two of you curled round each other fast asleep, he couldn't help but feel upset and scared for you. It clearly wasn't the first time Steve had snuck through the window without anyone but you knowing and the thought brought disgust to his gut. He had invited his friends round as your parents were away. He now regretted the idea and wished he had agreed when Mike suggested his house instead.
He wasn't being dramatic, he had every right to believe that you could end up like all the other girls.
Before he could wake you both up, though, his friends had pulled him back and disappeared back into his room to discuss what they had just seen.
Steve, on the other hand, couldn't be happier.
Your head rests on his chest, arms wrapped round his body. A sheet covers you and he brings his hand up and down your arm gently as he gazes at you asleep. He has been like this since he woke up to see you curled round him, hair a mess, no makeup on and breathing softly onto his bare chest.
What had happened the night before had surprised you both, if he was quite honest with himself. He had been ready from the second date with you but you had made it clear that you wanted to wait. He had thought he was ready when he dated Nancy but when the time came, he froze and ruined the moment.
But now, here you were snuggled up close with memories of the night before playing through your dreams as your boyfriend watches over you lovingly. He can't remember ever loving anyone as much as he loves you and all he wants is to tell you, and keep you by his side till the day he dies.
Just as his hand stops grazing your arm, you roll over off of him and wriggle onto your side, still facing him. Your lips pull up into a brief smile before dropping again. He shifts his body onto his side too and props his head onto his arms, watching as your eyebrows pull together and your eyes flutter open slowly.
A huge grin falls onto his lips as you look up groggily with a bashful smile.
"Morning, beautiful." His voice is still husky from sleep and a thousand butterflies take flight in your stomach.
"Morning." You rub a hand over your eyes to try and wake up properly, to no avail.
"I was gonna make breakfast, if you're hungry." He lifts his head off his arm to give you a playful look that is sleepily returned.
He gets up from the bed and tries to track down his trousers and socks before perching on the edge of the bed to give you a soft kiss that lingers longer than usual.
His blushing face then leaves your eyesight and you roll onto your back with a disbelieving laugh, quickly covering your mouth to stifle it.
You were still questioning how the two of you were even together, total opposites from different sides of the school. The King and a bookworm.
You suppose, in a weird way, you could thank the horrors that you had both witnessed over the past two years for bringing you together. But you don't want to give the Upside-Down any credit for your happiness given it was a hell like no other.
You can still remember how much you had disliked him at first, the way he acted, the way he spoke to people, the way he made you feel about yourself. His "friends" had given you hell for years and when he had finally stood up to them and broken up with Nancy, you had seen the better version of Steve Harrington who laughed and smiled and actually cared without any fear of being judged.
As you lie on your back, you cans still feel the gentle press of his hands on your skin, hear the whispered words "Are you sure?". Still feel his face buried in the crook of your neck, hear the hushed laughter when he first appeared over you with a bashful "Hello."
It couldn't have been more perfect and you could smile forever in your new bliss.
You wrestle your way out of the warmth of the bedsheets, grabbing the closest article of clothing to you: his navy sweater from yesterday. The sleeves fall over your hands and you bunch it up in fists as you open the door and walk into the hallway.
Dustin's door is still closed and you creep past, so as not to wake him. He wouldn't quit poking fun at you or Steve if he saw you now so it was better to be safe than sorry to leave him sleeping in. It was the holidays anyway.
You're suddenly startled by the sound of pots and pans crashing against each other, followed by the sound of a terribly hidden string of curses as whoever spilled the contents of the cupboard tried (and failed) to catch them.
When you reach the kitchen door, you can see Steve busy at the stove, pots and pans sitting haphazardly on the counter and floor. Without a word, you lean against the doorframe, arms crossed, and watch him attempt to work the stove. A smile plays on your lips and eventually, you clear your throat quietly to get his attention.
He whips round, only to notice that it's you.
"Morning... again." You murmur softly, still smiling.
God, it was like you slept with a hanger in your mouth or something.
"Morning," He turns away as his cheeks blush bashfully, and you can't help but feel warmth at the thought of making Steve Harrington blush. The thought nearly turns your legs to jelly and you walk over to the stove to keep them working.
You swat his hands away from the buttons with a laugh and stand in his place to turn the stove on, hearing his almost silent "Oh." as you show him how to work it.
His arms snake their way round your middle and his chin falls onto your shoulder, your face heating at the contact. He places soft kisses on your shoulder, then your neck, and you run your hands along his forearms.
"Steve." You feel him hug you tighter at his name and his hum of acknowledgement is disguised by another kiss, "Last night..."
You trail off and he laughs against your neck, moving away to turn you round. His nose scrunches as your hands move to the ends of his hair out of habit and he sways slightly.
"Yeah?" You can tell he's wanting you to talk more and you repress a sigh.
"I just wanted to say I..." You can't seem to finish the sentence as you gaze into his eyes, the whole scene perfectly homely. You didn't want to ruin it with a love confession that might be rejected.
He watches you with curious smirk and you open your mouth to speak again but he cuts you off with a sweet, slow kiss.
Your hands move further into his hair and his pull you closer by the waist. More memories of meaningful kisses and the whispered confessions whilst pressed close together from last night resurface in your mind. The feeling of his hands, his lips, just his touch made your head spin and your forehead falls onto his, not breaking the kiss.
"Oh come on!"
Your brother's voice startles you both and you break apart, Steve keeping a hold of your waist.
Dustin stands in the doorway, his friends lingering in the hallway, awkwardly watching the scene playing out. You feel your face burn and turn to your boyfriend for help, but he seems entirely unfazed.
"A bit of privacy wouldn't kill you, Henderson." Steve grumbles, ignoring the disgust on Dustin's face.
"I live here." Dustin replies matter-of-factly, crossing his arms.
"And..?" You can't help but hold back a laugh at your boyfriend's oblivion and he pulls a face at you which lets the laughter escape.
Dustin pulls a different kind of face, "Well, when you two are finished grossing everyone out, I'd like some pancakes."
You roll your eyes and walk over to him, placing your hands on his shoulders to turn him round. He begins to protest but gives up when you give him a sharp pinch on either side.
"Just go upstairs and do whatever it is you do together there," You give him your most serious look you can muster with a stomach full of butterflies.
"Fine," He stomps up the stairs, "But I'm serious about those pancakes!"
You watch his friends follow him up, quickly noticing the two girls and yell up a quick "Leave the door open!" before turning to return to the kitchen.
Max stops and gives you a look that makes you freeze and eye her curiously.
"Yes?" You ask quietly.
"I was just thinking that the sweater is real subtle." Her eyes move along the sweater and you shift uncomfortably under them.
"I-I don't know what you mean..."
She snorts out a laugh and runs up the stairs.
"Nice hickey, by the way!" She yells after her and you throw a shoe up the stairs that hits her legs.
"Teenagers." You mutter under your breath and turn back to the kitchen to see Steve leaning against the counter, a smirk playing on his pretty lips.
"Want to tell me what's going on in that head of yours, Harrington?" Your voice is quiet and he closes the distance between the two of you in four long strides.
His thumb grazes your chin, pushing your face up to his before he kisses you again, a contented sigh escaping him. Once again, your hands find his messy hair and he grips the sweater with a little more power than before.
"God, I love you." His words are almost hidden against your lips but you freeze and pull away slightly, out of breath from both the kiss and his confession.
A blush creeps up his face and you can't help but smile before giving him another quick peck on his lips, relief filling you.
How can you have thought this man didn't love you enough to say it when he had blushed and grinned the entire morning. You love him to Jupiter and back a thousand times and realise, you had always really known he feels the same.
So, when the words leave your mouth and leave him a blushing mess, you can't help but know that this is your future.
You and him.
"I love you too."
***
A/N
I really hope you liked it and just a reminder that my requests are open via messages so just ping me a message if you have a request for any of the characters from my first post. Thank you! xx
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headkiss · 1 day
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ooh ooh okay, maybe in the single thread universe where either reader or steve has a nightmare about losing the other from the canon-type violence and it's like comfort. feel free to ignore if you don't like it, thank u and love u 🫶
hi my love thank u so much for this req i missed writing these two <3 i hope you like it!!! steve’s the one with the nightmare in this one | 0.6k hurt/comfort and fluff (this takes place in the single thread universe!)
Although you and Steve only live across the hall from each other, you split your time between the two apartments, though you’re rarely separated from each other when you can help it.
Nights are often spent at his place, him kissing you goodbye before slipping out the window and swinging off to his nightly patrol, you staying awake with a book in your lap until he comes home no matter how much he insists you get some sleep.
You fall asleep easier when he’s beside you, anyways. Where you can feel him, safe and breathing.
Tonight’s a little different. Steve slipped through the window quietly when he got back—uninjured, this time—from patrol. For once, you’d fallen asleep while he was out, though you tried not to, if the open book still on your lap says anything.
He shut the window and locked it, pulling his mask off and smiling at the sight of you amongst his sheets, like you’ve belonged there all along. Steve bookmarked your page before setting your book onto the nightstand that’s now been claimed as yours, shutting off the small lamp that sits there, too.
He showered and changed quickly, eager to lay down beside you and gather you up into his arms, your warmth surrounding him. He falls asleep with the smell of your shampoo filling his senses.
It’s also a little different because a couple of hours later, you’re woken up by Steve’s shout of your name, his chest heaving against your back. Frowning, you turn over, finding his eyes still shut but his eyebrows scrunched.
Nightmares aren’t new to either of you, you’ve had enough of them since being followed that one night after work, nightmares where Steve isn’t there to save you this time. It still hurts to see him go through one, though.
Pushing yourself up, you run one hand through his hair, the other squeezing his shoulder. “Steve, wake up.”
After a couple more tries, his eyes open quickly, darting around before landing on your face, on the worry he must find written there. “Honey,” he breathes. “Are you okay?”
It’s classic Steve that the first thing he’d be worried about is you, when he’s the one who’s just had a nightmare. You trail your hand down his arm to tangle your fingers together. “Don’t worry about me. You were having a nightmare.”
His eyes squeeze shut, like he’s remembering it all over again. “You were hurt and I couldn’t- nothing was working. I was too late.”
“Hey,” you cup his jaw with your free hand, making sure his gaze is on yours. “Look at me. I’m not hurt. Not one bit, okay?”
He nods his hand tightening in yours, his other one reaching to tug you closer, your legs tangling together. “I’m sorry for waking you.”
You think back to the day you first met him, when he’d carried your moving boxes for you like it was nothing. You hadn’t realized then just how much weight he really felt, a weight you now hope to help lift, if only a little.
Steve was afraid then, of getting too close to you, if possible putting you in danger. He’s still afraid of the latter now, but there was something inevitable about you two, he thinks. It must be why his heartbeat calms more and more the longer he lays there with you, the longer he looks at you.
“You don’t have to be sorry.” You smile what you hope is something reassuring, trying to ease his mind, lighten things, “besides, I fell asleep on you earlier. It’s only fair.”
Steve’s not sure how he got so lucky with you, your patience, your understanding about everything. He can’t believe that you just happened to move in. It feels much more like fate than anything else to him.
“Thank you for being here, honey.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
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joshlmbrt · 2 days
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🔪 YOU LOOK INTO MY EYES, BUT YOU CAN’T RECOGNIZE MY FACE (BUT YOU BELONG TO ME). |
CONTENT WARNINGS; based off of scream - no correlation between the actual stranger things plot besides some characters, longer than usual oneshots by me, one use of y/n - but it was needed, mentions of weird phone calls, murder, talks of blood, puking, no happy ending (sorry folks).
beginning beta read by; @madelynraemunson & @littlexdeaths
an; was too proud of this to let it just go to waste, i have uploaded again with some added details:p.
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“The gruesome murder of Hawkins High School cheerleader, Chrissy Cunningham, has instilled fear into many Hawkins residents. What was a normal day for this teen girl, had taken a turn for the-” Your finger presses down on the remote, tossing it onto the coffee table that was piled with your school work. 
Your eyes stare at the small black print, teeth biting at the loose skin around your nail. A murder? In a town as small as Hawkins? 
You suddenly feel sick, the churning in your stomach causing you to press your palm over your mouth when you close your eyes. You think about Chrissy’s last moments. How frightened she must’ve been. How she tried to scream with no one around to help. 
You wonder how fast she bled out. If she had to suffer the injuries that only someone sick and twisted could do to another individual in such a gruesome way. 
You flinch when you hear the shrill ring coming from the phone in the hallway. You stare down the dark path before slowly standing. Your eyes dart towards the door - it’s locked and chained. Thankfully you remembered. 
You flinch again when you hear the ringing again, slowly walking down the hall and picking the phone up from the receiver, pressing it to your ear. 
“Hello?” 
It’s silent on the other end, but you can hear breathing. Your fingers wrap around the cord and you peek around the corner at the window above the sink. 
“Who is this?” Your brows pinch together. It’s still silent on the other end. You shake your head, pulling back. “I’m hanging up.” 
You drop the phone back onto the receiver, turning away from the phone. You stumble in your footsteps when it rings again, looking over your shoulder. 
You sigh, walking back quickly, yanking it up from the receiver. “This isn’t funny.” 
“Woah. What’s up with you?” The voice on the other line is smooth and sounds like honey would if it were a person - Eddie Munson. 
Your eyes shut as you shake your head to yourself. “Nothing.” 
“I just called. You couldn’t hear me?” 
“That was you?” He hums on the other line. “No. I didn’t hear you, all I heard was breathing. Anyway, what’s up?” 
“I was seeing if you’ve been captured by that mushy boyfriend of yours or not.” 
You laugh and lean against the wall. “Steve is a nice boy once you get to know him, Eds. Leave him alone,” He mumbles something on the other line. “But he’s about to come over. We’re supposed to watch a movie together.” 
“Oh,” He says dejectedly. “Alright, then.” 
“You wanna join us? He’s picking up pizza and beer.” 
“No thanks. I’ll stay here, all by my lonesome. You have fun, but not too much.” Eddie’s voice had gone up with a teasing lilt that has you rolling your eyes. You push yourself from the wall. 
Your head lifts when you hear a knock. “Alright, loser. He’s here. I’ll see you later?” 
“You know it.” The line goes dead and your dropping the phone back onto the receiver, walking towards the door and opening it. 
“Pizza and beer delivery.” Steve grins goofily, lifting each item. 
You let him step in and set the stuff down before you’re wrapping your arms around his neck, pressing a couple of kisses against the cluster of freckles on his cheek. “I’ve missed you.” 
Steve’s shoulders wiggle under your arms as he tries to slide the jacket he wore off, laughing softly causing a puff of air to hit the side of your cheek. “We just saw each other this morning.” 
“Still too long,” There’s a glossy print in the shape of your lips. You pull away, nudging your nose with his. “How was work?” 
His hands finally slip into the back pockets of your jeans, causing you to giggle and stumble forward more. His smile is lopsided when he stares down at you. “Good, I guess. Keith was such a-” He pauses, taking a breath as he shakes his head. “He was more than what he usually is.” 
You pout softly. “I’m sorry,” Your head tilts, fingers sliding into his hair, scratching at his scalp. “Let me go change. Then we can snuggle on the couch and watch a movie, yeah?” 
Steve nods and presses one, two, three pecks onto your lips. You smile against his, pressing one more on to his lips, before walking away. 
“Oh, by the way,” You call from your room. You hear a creak outside that lets you know Steve is outside your bedroom door. “I got a weird phone call.” 
“Really?” 
“Yeah,” You let out a small laugh, slipping on some shorts. “All I could hear was breathing. But Eddie said it was him.” 
“Munson?” 
You roll your eyes, slipping on Steve’s old faded gym shirt, walking out. “Yes. Eddie Munson. You both gotta hash, whatever it is that makes you both act all tough, out. It’s getting tiring honestly.” 
“Maybe I just don’t like him around you.” He follows behind you, brows pinched slightly. 
“He’s my best friend.” 
“And I’m your boyfriend.” Steve’s voice had lowered slightly, but you could still hear the raspiness - the strain - in his voice. 
Your brows lift and you slowly turn to face him. “Are you jealous, Steve?” 
“Why would I be jealous of someone who doesn’t have you, hm? He’s the one who should be jealous.” 
“Well, he’s not,” You sigh a bit, shaking your head. Your arms reach out and land on his biceps as you step closer. Your fingertips drag down Steve’s arms slowly - you smile when you feel the goosebumps raise and notice the slight heaving of his chest - he always gets that way from the smallest of touches from your fingertips. 
“You’re the only one I want, okay?” He nods quickly. “No. I want you to say it back.” 
“I-I’m the only guy you want.” Your lips spread out into a grin as you nod. 
You pat his cheek softly. “You’re so right, Stevie,” You nudge your nose against his, eyes fluttering down to his lips before looking back up towards his mossy greens. “You’re the only one I want.” 
🔪
The sound of the toilet flushing causes you to wince as it echoes off the walls. You button your pants, unlocking the stall and stepping towards the row of sinks, flipping the cold water on. 
You watch as the bubbles slip down the drain, eyes flickering up to the mirror. Bags had made a home under your eyes -  not even concealer could hide that you hadn’t been sleeping. 
There was another murder. Nancy Wheeler. 
She was one of your friends, acquaintances at best since she would be at the mini hang outs Steve would host. Her and her boyfriend, Jonathan Byers, would show up with mini snacks that she had made and Jonathan wanted to capture moments with his camera. 
She was sweet, nice, and caring. Always asking if you needed help with anything, or even saying hello as you both passed one another in the hallways of the school.
Jonathan hadn’t been present at school and he wouldn’t want to be present. Rumors of him ‘breaking’ finally and doing something terrible had made the poor guy seem crazy. 
You know there would’ve been judging stares thrown at the boy.
The sound of another toilet flushing catches you off guard, your head turning quickly to look at the stalls. They seemed to be all empty. 
You look away, turning the water off and reaching for a paper towel. You dry your hands off quickly, before looking back towards the mirror. 
You pause, head tilting when you notice black combat boots from the gap. 
You turn back again, blinking once, twice, three times before hearing the stall door unlock, the sound echoing off the walls making your heart drop and alarms go off in your head. 
You turn quickly, rushing out of the bathroom, looking back once you finally make it into the hallway - your breathing hitches when you notice a figure in the mirror, your own body stumbling into someone else’s. Rough palms grip your arms causing you to swat them away. 
“Hey! What’s- Y/N, what’s wrong?” Your chest heaves with heavy breaths as you realize it’s just Eddie who you’d bumped into and was not gripping your arms trying to keep you calm. 
“S-someone… There was…” Your mouth feels dry and you still feel panicky, the feeling of eyes on you making your head turn and look over both shoulders. Your chin quivers as you shake your head. Eddie shakes you slightly by your biceps, his brows pinching with confusion. 
“Hey, eyes on me,” Eddie’s rough palms leave your arms, landing on your cheeks and navigating your head back towards him. His eyes are wide slightly, rounded and soft as they stay on you, never once looking away. “Let’s try again. Deep breath…” He watches your chest as you inhale, the small S pendant sinking in between your collarbones - his heart skips a beat and there’s a weird feeling in his chest. 
It should’ve been a different initial that rests in the hollow of your collarbones.
Blinking, his eyes dart back to your face quickly before you could even notice and decipher the look etched onto his face.
Eddie nods, curls bouncing with the motion and tickling at his cheeks. “Good… Good job,” He whispers, thumb wiping away the tear that runs a wet, salty track down your cheek. You are suddenly aware of the smell of weed and the overwhelming scent of spicy cinnamon cologne trying to cover the pungent, sweet smell. “Now tell me what’s wrong?” 
“There was…there was someone in the bathroom.” You shudder on a breath. 
Eddie lets out a small chuckle. “I’d figure. It’s a-”
“No! It…” Your eyes squeeze shut. “I think it might’ve been the killer,” Your eyes slowly open to see a spectacle look on Eddie’s face - pursed lips and his brows slightly furrowed. “Just.. forget it. Never mind.” You shake your eyes. He grabs your wrist before you can walk away. 
“I’ll check.” 
“No, Eds. You’ll get in-”
“Trouble?” His brows lift slightly, finishing your sentence. You nod. “When has that ever stopped me? I’ll just poke my head in, peek around, and pull away. I won’t walk in fully.” 
Your eyes dart back towards the bathroom and you find yourself nodding again. He smiles softly, stepping towards the bathroom, opening the heavy door and peeking inside. 
“Hellooooo? Any killer in here?” 
“Eddie.” You warn through gritted teeth, shifting on your feet as you look down the hallway quickly. 
Eddie then pulls away, letting the door slowly shut behind him. “No ones in there, sweetheart. Have you been sleeping?” 
You cross your arms over your chest. “What does that have to do with anything?” You defend. “I know what I saw.” 
He quickly puts his hands up in defense, shaking his head. “Hey, I’m just asking. I’m worried about you. With…everything going on. Now, you’re saying you are seeing things. You need to get some rest.” 
“I know what I saw,” You repeat your words. “And if you don’t believe me, that’s fine.”
“It’s not that I don’t believe you,” He walks towards you slowly. “I…” He looks like he’s contemplating something and it makes your shoulders slump a bit as you stare at him. 
“You what?” You tilt your head. 
“I’ve been getting these weird phone calls,” He rubs at his temple. You frown, arms dropping by your sides. “I don’t think it’s anything to be worried about though. I just- have you gotten any weird calls?” 
“A while ago…” You nod. “What do they say?” 
“Nothing. It’s just breathing. Really heavy breathing,” Eddie looks down at his feet. “I think I might know who it is though.” 
“Who?” 
“Steve.” 
Your brows furrow and you shake your head. “What? Why do you think it’s Steve of all people?” 
“For one, he hates me —” 
“He doesn’t hate you.” 
He ignores you. “Secondly, when I asked if it was Steve, he hung up.” 
A laugh slips from your throat and you shake your head. Eddie frowns. “You think it’s Steve - my boyfriend - who’s been behind the weird phone calls that you’ve been receiving and the killings.” 
“I never said I thought he was behind the killings,” He tilts his head. “What, are you thinking it’s someone you know?” He asks. 
Your lips purse together at the question and you quickly look away - because you have thought about the possibility of someone close to you being capable of these things. 
“Oh,” It’s a teasing whisper from Eddie that has your eyes shooting back towards his face. “You have, haven’t you?” 
“No.” 
“That’s a lie, sweetheart… I know you better than yourself. Maybe even Stevie,” There’s a small hum that leaves Eddie’s throat. “It’s kind of weird, though, isn’t it? His ex being murdered, stabbed multiple times. Sounds personal.” 
“Yeah, well, Chrissy - a girl who had no interest in you besides buying - was stabbed multiple times too,” You snap. “Sounds personal, doesn’t it?” 
You immediately regret the words that spill from your mouth when you notice Eddie’s face go blank of emotion. You sigh, shaking your head. 
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.” 
“It’s fine.” 
“No, it’s not-”
“I said, it’s fine,” Eddie snaps. Your head rears back from his forceful words, blinking quickly as you tilt your head. “I gotta get to class anyway.” He pushes past you in a rush. 
“Eddie!” You watch as he turns the corner, a sigh leaving your throat as your shoulders slump. “I’m sorry.” You mutter to yourself. 
The walk back to class is filled in silence besides the sound of your feet against the linoleum floors that had light bouncing off of them.
Slipping back into the dim classroom, the teacher sending you a look you ignore as you slip into the chair beside the window.
Immediately, your fingers pick up the pencil that rests in the carved dip that it rests in, doodling small little flowers on the side of your page, cheek resting on your palm.
There’s a muffled scream and a dull thud that comes from outside, catching the attention of other students, chairs scraping against the floor in a quick movement, catching you off guard.
Gasps fill the room along with some screams and girls who turn away, running out of the classroom. Your brows pinch together, standing as you slowly push your way through the some of the remaining students who seemed as if they couldn’t pull away.
Your mouth parts when you see a body laying outside - Jason Carver. His arm seemed like it was bent in an awkward position, blood seeping from the corner of his mouth and blood staining the back of his polo shirt.
Back-stabber.
Your eyes dart up, noticing something move behind the trees. It comes to a stop, turning and staring at the window. Bodies bump into your shoulder but you can’t seem to move away from the window, breath shuddering from the mask that was shaped as if the ghost is permanently screaming.
Who would’ve thought that a plastic mask could bring so much fear?
🔪
“I’m sorry,” Steve says over the loud music bouncing off the walls of his suburban home. You glance at him. “I didn’t know this many people would show up!” 
“Maybe you shouldn’t have told Tommy!” Your brows lift slightly. Steve nods because he knows you’re right. 
If he wouldn’t have blabbered to Tommy, of all people, there wouldn’t be people he barely even knew throwing about antiques of his mothers and pulling out old wine that his father invested in that cost more than the prices of their houses put together probably. 
The music suddenly lowers and Billy Hargrove, the newest boy of Hawkins, presents the idea of watching a horror movie since Stevie-Boy had such a lovely collection. 
You stumble on your feet a bit when you feel someone bump into your shoulder. Steve grabs your hand, pulling you towards him. “Watch where you’re going.” 
“My bad,” It’s Eddie. You quickly look over your shoulder at the boy who had his hands up in mock surrender, a smirk on his face, the metal lunch box he holds squeaks slightly by the black handle. “Didn’t mean to brush against your precious luxury, Harrington.” 
“Who invited you?” 
“Steve.” You mutter under your breath, hand reaching out, placing it flat on his back.
“No, I seriously want to know.” 
“Billy. Getting paid handsomely, I must say.” Eddie grins - a conniving and teasing smile that makes his eyes crinkle at the sides. 
“I want you to leave.” 
“I have deals to make. No can do, big boy.” Eddie turns and starts to walk towards the patio doors. Steve’s hand shoots out, gripping his wrist. Eddie smirks, dark brown orbs dancing down towards the fingers that wrap around his pale skin.
“I’ll call the cops.” 
“You’ll also be getting in trouble,” Steve’s brows pinch in confusion, fingers loosening around his wrist. Eddie pulls his arm away. “Curfew, remember? You’re basically putting people in the line of danger. So I’d rethink your statement if I were you - but that’s just me.” Eddie grins, patting at Steve’s shoulder before continuing his walk towards the patio door. 
Steve flinches at the sound of loud music, but this time it’s theme music coming from the television speakers - Wes Craven's Nightmare On Elm Street playing. 
He sighs and rubs his forehead, turning towards you. He frowns when he notices the far off look on your face. “I’m sorry… I know he’s your friend but he just… he gets under my skin.” 
You open your mouth but Billy is cutting you off by roughly slapping at Steve’s shoulder causing him to stumble forward a bit from being caught off guard, narrowed eyes sending the blue-eyed boy a look. “Where’s the beer, Harrington?” 
Steve sighs. “Garage.” 
Billy grins and looks at you, blue eyes dancing up and down. “Nice pants.” He walks past you, turning his head once again a lopsided smile on his lips that has Steve clenching his fist at his side. 
“I’m just going to hang out in your room.” You shake your head, walking past Steve and towards the steps, jogging up them. Steve turns to watch you, sighing as he leans on the counter. 
🔪
The sounds of screams and howling laughter that are coming from downstairs are muffled. Your eyes look around Steve’s bedroom, humming to yourself softly, sliding the pendent back and forth on the chain.
You’ve been in here multiple times, but now you really take the time to stare at the posters and photos that are lined up. You sit up when your eyes land on a frame that’s hiding behind another, head tilting. 
You glance towards the door before pushing yourself off the fluffy comforter before walking towards his messy drawer, moving the photo frame that had a photo of Steve and yourself, heart dropping at the one in behind. 
Nancy and Steve. There was still a photo of Nancy and Steve on his dresser. One where Steve was looking like he was really in love with the girl, eyes focused on her face. Your brows furrow together, lips pursing together. 
There’s a small part of you that was happy the photo was hidden by yours and Steve’s photo - but the other half was angry. You didn’t mind him keeping the photo. But maybe somewhere hidden in a box under his bed where you wouldn’t even think about looking.
You needed to go home before Steve caught you looking at the photo. You turn away, yanking your sweater from where it was thrown onto the chair, slipping it on and quickly making your way down the steps. 
It’s quiet now, you notice, the television at a low volume and the laughter gone. You slowly walk towards the archway that leads into the living room. There’s red solo cups left on the coffee table, popcorn kernels on the couch and carpet, and crumbs. 
You’d clean, but, again, you’re on a mission to leave without Steve noticing. You turn away from the mess, walking towards the door. 
Your body collides with someone else’s, sending you back onto the floor, hands catching you. Your eyes widen when you finally see what you’d run into - a bloody Billy Hargrove.
“Help,” His voice is strained and blood spills from his mouth and between his fingers, that were pressed to the wound on his side that stains his shirts, drips onto the hardwood floor.
Your breathing gets caught in your throat when he stumbles on his own feet, falling to his knees. Your wide, tearful eyes shoot to the side when you watch someone emerge from the side. 
It’s a tall figure, the black robe covering their clothes and the mask hiding their hair and face - but the combat boots. They’re wearing the same combat boots from the other day. 
The masked figure stands behind Billy, leg lifting and boot pressing against the back of the boy, knocking him down. Billy’s hand shoots out, trying to catch himself from falling face first into the floor - which proves to be useless from the crimson stain on his hand, smearing across the floor and making him slip. 
He cries out in pain when his nose hits the floor, a sickening crack sounding out through the room, a small gasping noise coming from his nose as his head lifts, blue eyes connecting with yours. His shaky hand slowly reaches out, begging silently for help.
You're frozen in fear, shaking on the ground as you watch the fingers of the killer twist the knife, gloved hand swiping the blood from the silver. 
Billy lets out another gasp when the knife swipes down, puncturing in between his spine. You finally stand from the floor, stumbling as you run towards the patio door. 
You look back, hand on the knob as you try sliding it open, letting out a loud sob when you notice the figure was gone and nowhere in sight. 
You scream when you hear something from outside hit the other side of the door making you reel back, watery eyes widen as you stare at Steve who hits the window, a bloody smeared handprint slides against the wall. 
“Let me in! Please!” Steve hits at the window. His hair was mussed, blood soaked the front of his shirt. “Baby! Please!” His voice is raw and brows furrowed.
Your eyes leave his own, trailing down to look at his shirt. He looks down quickly before looking up. “Th-that’s not what it looks like! It’s… I saw Billy in the garage! I tried to help him but he told me to come call for help!” His voice catches at the end as he shakes his head. “All the doors are locked… I can’t come in, please, unlock the door.” 
You slowly walk towards the door, fingers tracing over the lock before switching it over and pulling the door open. “W-we need to run to your neighbor’s house,” You whisper, voice shaky with a sob caught in your throat. “He’s inside.” 
His eyes glance behind you, landing on Billy before pushing in and walking towards the body, staring at the blood that slowly turns into a puddle. 
“Steve! What are you doing!?” You turn towards him. 
“It’s not everyday you get to see a dead body.” Steve shakes his head as he slowly kneels down, fingers gripping at Billy’s hair and lifting his head up as he slowly tilts his head. 
Your eyes squeeze shut when you watch the blood that travels down the young boys face, a feeling of vomit threatening to crawl its way up your throat.
“You…you’re scaring me. Please, let’s just go!” You beg, looking back at Steve only.
Steve hums and slowly stands from the ground, turning around as he looks at you. You look over your shoulder when you hear a soft click. 
Your eyes widen when you stumble back, your back hitting the mini bar, hands gripping at the wood. 
“Doesn’t mean it isn’t as exhilarating as the last.” 
Your eyes widen when curls slip from the mask and it drops to the ground, the velcro ripping and robe sliding from his arms. 
“E-eddie?” 
“Look at you…” Eddie’s boots leave bloody footprints as he slowly makes his way towards you, pointing the bloody knife in your direction. “A smart one, Harrington. You got lucky.” He cages you in, a deep laugh erupting from his chest as he stares at you, teeth on display. 
“You’re telling me,” Steve makes his way over. Your eyes widen when he leans against the bar beside you, pushing some of your hair back. “I’m surprised she didn’t piece it together sooner. Though, I was worried she would have,” He then pouts slightly. “It would’ve ruined our fun.”
Your hand blindly reaches for a glass, arm swinging and breaking it against Eddie’s noise, a curse slipping from his mouth as he turns and holds his face, blood dripping down. 
You turn to run away, but there’s a sharp tug on your hair, pulling you down onto the ground roughly, the feeling making you cry out and gasp in pain.
Heavy weight drops onto your waist. Your hands reach out, trying to knock him away, hips twisting under Steve’s weight. You let out a scream, hoping someone is close enough to hear.
There’s a stinging that spreads across your jaw before your hands are gripped between rough palms. Steve slips each wrist under a knee, pressing down roughly.
“Now why did you make me do that, hm?” Steve’s voice is condescending and mocking as he stares down at you.
“Please…” You whimper, eyes sliding closed, when you feel his fingers trace over your neck to find your pulse point - he smiles when he feels it jump under his calloused fingertips. His fingers then trail towards the charm around your neck, tracing the letter S. “Please, let me go.” 
“No can do, angel.” Steve pouts when he hears your heightened cry. Eddie walks around and stands at the top of your head, spitting blood beside your head, staring down at you. He’s upside down when your eyes open to look at him. Blood stains his white teeth when he smiles down at you, kneeling slowly. 
“It’s such a shame, Stevie,” The sharp end flicks at your cheekbone, causing your face to screw up at the burn that follows soon after. The knife slowly drags down the vein that protrudes out from the side of your neck. “She was so pretty.” 
“No… No, no, no,” You start to wiggle under Steve’s weight again, shaking your head. “No! Please.” 
It’s as if you aren’t even there, Steve and Eddie not acknowledging you crying and shaking underneath them. Steve’s hand opens and Eddie grins, placing the handle onto his palm. 
Steve’s fingers wrap around it, looking down at you, pressing a finger to your lips. “Shhh…Shh, I know… I know,” He whispers, lowering his head.
Eddie’s knees press against your temple to stop your head from moving, causing a pounding in your head from how hard he squeezes them. “It won’t hurt as much if you just stay still…” 
He lifts up, arms coming up over his head as he stares down at you. Your fingers had become fuzzy from the lack of circulation caused by Steve’s knees, the pounding in your head growing worse from Eddie’s knees encasing your head.
“No! Steve, don’t!”
A gasp gets ripped from your throat, a pain shooting up your chest. Blood hits against Steve’s cheek and heaving chest, a squelching sound echoing through the room.
Steve shares a grin with Eddie before his eyes drop down to yours. “This was fun.”
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— @joshlmbrt 2024
🔪 thanks for reading. reblogs, comments, requests, & feedback is welcomed & deeply appreciated.
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theghostinyourwalls · 9 hours
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I can’t believe we’ve all been cropped out of these pictures
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loveshotzz · 2 days
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Friday @ 4pm central
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series masterlist | series playlist
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