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officialaemondtargaryen · 4 months

Text

is it casual now?

Prompt: You and Eddie totally aren't dating, right?

Characters: Eddie Munson x Reader, brief mentions of Steve Harrington x Reader.

Word Count: ~5.5k

Author’s Note: Happy birthday @felteppsters

Playlist: Casual by Chappell Roan

Warnings: Smut & fluff.

If you had a dollar for every time someone asked if you and The Freak were dating, you'd have made four dollars this week alone.

And it's only Tuesday.

You didn't go out of your way to spend time with Eddie Munson, and he never once asked if you wanted to hang out outside of school, but somehow you always managed to find yourself getting fingered in the back of his van in the parking lot during study hall. And he was known to drop a note in your locker on occasion asking you to meet him in that one bathroom that no one ever used for a quickie during lunch.

But that was neither here nor there.

The point was that people were beginning to notice.

It wasn't a bad thing. It's not like dating Eddie would ruin your reputation- despite what some people would say. It was just that when people asked if you and Eddie were dating, you didn't know how to answer because you, yourself, were not exactly sure what that answer was.

So you just said no, and you probably said it a little too defensively.

Does hooking up occasionally count as dating? No. In order to be dating someone you had to at least go out on an actual date, right? The night he took you to his trailer to 'fuck you in a real bed' and ordered pizza delivery didn't count, either, no matter how long you cuddled with him afterwards.

"I heard a rumor," it was Robin. She fell in step with you as you both exited fourth-period Algebra and headed toward the cafeteria. "And I just need a little bit of clarification, so forgive me if what I'm about to ask is-"

"I swear to God, Robin, if you're about to ask me if I'm dating Eddie Munson," you held up your hand and cut her off, stopping short in the middle of the hallway; your boots scuffing the speckled white tile floor, causing a slight traffic jam of bodies.

"What!?" She gasped. Either she was a really great actress or she genuinely hadn't heard. "There's a rumor going around that you're dating Eddie Munson?"

"No?" you deflected and picked up the pace. "What did you hear?"

"That you're dating Eddie Munson." With that, your face fell and she pulled her lips between her teeth to keep herself from laughing. "Well, is it true? Because Maria Fuentes heard from Charlie Dawson that Tina saw you guys in the parking lot last Friday and she did not hold back on the details."

"First of all," you said stopping at your locker. "I feel violated."

"Well, you were, you know-" Robin held up her fingers and made a lewd gesture causing you to cringe.

"Second of all-" You began again, only to be cut off by a folded piece of paper falling from your locker to the floor as you opened the flimsy, metal door. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks as Robin quickly bent down and snatched the note from under you before you had the chance.

"You were saying?" She asked, a playful smirk pulling at her lips as she dodged every one of your attempts to take the note back from her. "Meet me. You know where. Signed, E.M." She read aloud. "Oh, look, there's even a little heart. That is so cute!"

"Second of all," you repeated after you had snatched the crumpled paper from her hands. "We are not dating."

Eddie's lips were on yours the moment the bathroom door closed behind you; before you were even able to flip the lock. You hadn't seen him since last Friday, and you could easily tell that he had gotten needy over the weekend. You wanted to enjoy the moment, but all that you could think about was this rumor.

He took a few steps forwards, pushing you back to the double sink until you were sitting on the counter; pushing himself between your legs, his hands falling to your sides, fingertips digging into your flesh. His lips were everywhere, biting and sucking hungrily as he squeezed every inch of your body he could get his hands on.

You placed your palm firmly on his chest and lightly pushed him away from you. He took a step back and you took in his appearance; tight denim jeans, a flannel wrapped around his hips, t-shirt just slightly messy enough to reveal a scruffy happy trail below his navel. His jeans were especially tight in the crotch, and his eyes were dark with desperation as he returned your gaze. He ducked his head to meet your lips once again, but you turned your head and ensured his lips fell to your cheek instead.

"Something's definitely up with you," he said softly as he placed another kiss on your temple.

He looked so good and made you feel so good, you just wanted to pull him back down to you and fuck him in this bathroom for the umpteenth time, but you couldn't. He stepped back and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket; looking so cool as he placed one between his lips and took a long drag, sending smoke billowing around the tiny room.

"You haven't heard?" You asked. He shrugged. "Someone saw us Friday in your van and now the entire school thinks we're dating."

"Oh," he let our a sarcastic chuckle. "And that's a problem for you, I guess? Can't be seen with the freak, right?"

"No," you rolled your eyes at the fact that he would even suggest that. "I just didn't know if- are we?"

He shrugs again, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I thought it was just casual."

"Casual?" You ask, and he nods. "Okay, well, I have to go. My next class is all the way on the other side of the building and I don't want to be late."

He can tell by your tone that you're upset.

"What do you want me to say?" He asks, making one last attempt to make you stay as you pick up your book bag from the floor.

"Nothing."

"You're pissed," he actually reached for you this time, but you shrugged him off.

"No," you replied. "I'm just-" you paused for a moment looking for the right words. "I'm casual." He winced. "Have a good day, Eddie."

You wanted to slam the door in his face, but it wasn't that type of door, so you opted for storming off loudly. As you rounded the corner you knocked shoulders with some girl from the Cheerleading squad who yelled at you to watch where you were going, but you didn't care to respond. Your legs were carrying you as quickly as they could without breaking into a full sprint down the halls of Hawkins High.

It wasn't a lie when you stated that your next class was on the other side of the school. You were sweating by the time you reached your desk. Robin had gotten there first, slumped back in her assigned seat with a smirk on her face as you sat down, trying to catch your breath.

"Long commute?" She asked, her voice laced with sarcasm.

"Shut the hell up, Buckley." You snapped.

"Uh oh," she held her hands up in defense. "Must be some trouble in paradise."

"I told you earlier, Eddie and I are not dating."

"Roger that."

The last bell couldn't come soon enough. All that you wanted to do was get home and get into bed- and preferably cry into a bowl of ice cream. You'd have never imagined yourself crying over the likes of Eddie Munson, but the thought of losing whatever it was that you had with him was upsetting.

He was your friend, after all. You had a lot in common with him. He could make you laugh and there was no shortage of conversation when you were around him. He was always getting shit from his friends, but you loved the fact that he never shut the hell up. And when there wasn't a conversation to be had, there was always music; whether it was his long list of cassette tapes or him strumming away on his guitar, there was never a dull moment.

And here you were ruining it over a label.

Robin held the door open for you as you both stepped out into the warm summer weather. Waves of students began lining up in the parking lot for their respective busses, but you typically walked home when the weather was nice.

"So since you're not dating Eddie Munson," Robin began and you couldn't help but roll your eyes so hard that it almost gave you a headache. "I was wondering if you might want to go on a double date with Vickie and myself?"

"A double date typically involves two couples."

"Right, you're absolutely right." Robin was stuttering. "I have this friend and he is also single. Problem solved."

"Steve?"

"Yeah."

"No."

"Wh- Why?"

"Because I have nothing in common with Steve and Steve is a prick," you replied bluntly.

Robin rolled her eyes. "He's actually not, like, at all. Besides, I talk about you all the time to him and he said that he would really like to meet you."

"He must have forgotten that he spent the majority of my freshman and sophomore year bullying me with Tommy H and Carole," you muttered under your breath.

Your friend reached out and grabbed you by the shoulder, stopping you in place and spinning you around to face her. A sigh escaped your lips as you looked her in the eye.

"That was a long time ago. I wasn't a huge fan of him when I first met him, either." She gave you a lopsided smile and you found her attempts to win her friend a date with you amusing. "I promise you that it's worth a shot. So, if you change your mind, we're going roller skating on Saturday night."

"You rollerskating?" You laughed and heard a car honk a few times as it pulled up.

"You're so funny!" She stated sarcastically.

Steve gave you a derpy smile as he rolled the passenger side window down. He was wearing his Family Video vest. "Good afternoon, ladies." He called out smoothly, you returned with a small wave.

"Sleep on it?" Robin asked as she opened the door to Steve's car.

"Fine," you rolled your eyes. "I'll think about it."

Robin smiled as she ducked into the passenger seat and closed the door behind her. "I'll see you tomorrow!"

Saturday came sooner than expected, and you had to admit that you were nervous. If someone had told you a year ago that you'd be going on a date with Steve Harrington, you'd probably punch them in the throat. Hell, if someone told you that a week ago, you'd still be swinging.

You had avoided Eddie at all costs throughout the rest of the week. Though, you'd be lying if you said that you weren't a little disappointed there were no notes left in your locker, or that he didn't find some way to talk to you after you left him standing in that bathroom Tuesday afternoon. You even waited up some nights hoping for a phone call or a pebble on the window, but none came.

It took over an hour and half to pick an outfit. Almost every article of clothing you owned was crumpled on the floor or tossed on the bed as you tried on a dozen different outfit combinations. It was the roller rink, so you wanted to be comfortable, but it was technically a date, so you also wanted to at least seem like you tried. Finally, as the clock ticked closer to seven, you decided on jeans, an off-shoulder top, and your Converse. You really didn't care to impress Steve Harrington; you didn't care in freshman and sophomore year and you certainly didn't now.

"I thought you said you had a date," your mother mentioned as you stepped into the living room. She was on the couch watching Who's The Boss, a jar of mixed nuts in her lap.

"I am," you replied as you shrugged into your denim jacket. She looked you up and down and you rolled your eyes. "We're going rollerskating; comfort was the priority!"

The distant sound of a car horn honking interrupted the conversation, prompting you to glance out the front door. Steve, acting as the evening's chauffeur, awaited with Robin and Vickie in the backseat.

"Don't be out too late," your mother muttered between mouthfuls of peanuts. "But enjoy yourself."

As the heavy glass door swung open, a wave of familiar sounds and vibrant colors enveloped your senses. The Rollerdome was typically busy on a Saturday night, but tonight it seemed everyone in Hawkins had the same idea to go skating. The neon lights that adorned the rink's interior created a kaleidoscope of vivid hues; fluorescent pinks, electric blues, and neon greens adorned the walls, blending with the glow of disco balls suspended from the ceiling. Upbeat pop music and the thud of roller skates on the smooth, wooden floors flooded your ears as Robin and Steve bickered over which table to claim for the evening.

"I vote this one," Robin declared with unwavering confidence, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "That way, we've got front-row seats to all the wipeouts!"

"That is the exact reason why no one sits at this table, Robin," Steve countered with exasperation. "Everyone knows that the floor is slick there and when someone takes a spill, it's usually right into the table." He pauses before looking at you. "Bye-bye chili dogs."

You can't help but suppress a small smile, "I think it's perfect. If there's a chance one of those uppity assholes comes flying face first into our table, it'll be the highlight of my entire year."

"Can't argue with that logic," Steve added quickly. "Good choice, Robin."

She rolled her eyes and dragged Vickie off towards the rental counter. You casually tossed your bag on the top of the table; a clear marker that it was claimed. Steve removed his jacket and placed it next to your bag before running a hand through his thick, dark hair. It was clear that he was nervous as his eyes darted around the roller rink. He definitely didn't give off the same 'King Steve' aura that you remembered so well.

Maybe you'd give him a chance.

Just kidding.

You turned on your heel and walked off towards the snack bar, drawn in by the delicious aroma of extra cheese pizza and buttered popcorn, leaving Steve scrambling to catch up with your determined stride. Robin wanted a pretzel and a Coke slushy while Vickie had asked for cheese fries and an orange soda. You wanted nachos but agreed when Steve ordered to split a pizza, doing his best to impress you as he paid for everyone, but instead, all he got out of you was a slight eye roll. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Vickie lead a wobbly Robin out onto the rink. A chuckle escaped your lips as you witnessed their valiant attempts to navigate the rink without falling prey to the more seasoned skaters.

"So what are you into?" Steve asked as he filled up his drink at the fountain machine. "What do you like?"

"Uh," you weren't really sure what to say. You still couldn't really get past the fact that Steve Harrington was trying to have a conversation with you. "I like music."

"Yeah?" He asked. "I like music."

"Cool."

"This is a good song," he replied and pointed awkwardly to the overhead speakers while Another One Bites The Dust by Queen played loudly.

You couldn't help but think of the irony and did your best to suppress a laugh before Steve got the impression that you thought he was funny. Oh, how this date was failing epically; which you were already anticipating, so at least you hadn't gotten your hopes up about it. Steve was almost trying too hard to force a spark between the two of you, but without Robin around- which was often because she was too busy flailing about on her skates while Vickie tried her hardest to keep her from falling- it was absolutely boring.

At least the two of them seemed to be having a good time.

As the night continued on, you found yourself gradually shedding the initial reserve that had clung to you like a second skin. The pulsating rhythm of the music, the laughter of your friends, and the infectious joy of gliding across the smooth floor started to work its magic. A genuine smile tugged at the corners of your lips as Steve, Vickie, and Robin circled the rink alongside you, sharing jokes and banter.

"I need something to drink!" You yelled over the music at your friends before carefully exiting the floor onto the carpet.

Steve exited with you, gliding up to the table with ease; moving around you to the music, dancing on his skates. The hesitant glances you'd given him earlier transformed into playful exchanges, and you couldn't help but admit that his efforts to charm you had slowly but surely begun to work.

As Robin and Vickie continued to skate around the rink, something caught your eyes in the corner; a familiar, curly head of brown hair in the back towards the arcade. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, his brown eyes pinned to you as his friends huddled around one of the pinball machines.

You smirked softly as the music changed. In the background you could hear Steve talking, but you were too busy having a staring contest with Eddie from across the room.

"So what d'ya say?" Steve asked.

"What?" You asked, reluctantly tearing your eyes away from Eddie.

"It's a slow song," he mentioned. You could see a blush creeping to his cheeks. "Did you want to couple's skate?"

You agreed, allowing Steve to take your hand and lead you out onto the rink. It was wrong of you to use Steve in the way that you were, especially since you were just starting to like him. But the satisfaction that you felt seeing Eddie roll his eyes as you and your date skated by was too good to pass up. And yes, you faked the giggles and latched on to Steve's arm a little more with each time you passed Eddie, really twisting that knife as much as you could.

But hey, it was just "casual" right?

As the song came to a close and Steve led you by the hand back to your table. You couldn't help yourself but to glance back to the corner of the rink towards the arcade, only to see Eddie push himself off of the wall and stomp off towards the exit.

"I'll be right back," you called over to Steve as the song ended. "I need to get some fresh air."

"I'll come with!" Steve offered but you placed a hand on his arm to stop him before he could unlace his skates.

"I'll be okay," you assured him with a sweet smile. "I'll be right back."

Hurriedly, you unlaced your skates and shoved your feet into your worn-down tennis shoes before chasing after Eddie. The summer air was still very humid as you stepped out of the cool air conditioning and into the parking lot. The sunset was barely lingering on the horizon and the sky was a mixture of periwinkle and orange. To your right, you could see Eddie walking away from you and towards his van.

"Hey!" You called to him. He turned around to see it was you and threw his head back dramatically before turning back to his van. "What is your problem?"

"Steve Harrington, really?" He spat, turning to you once again.

"Oh, come off it!" You replied, closing the gap between you. "Jealousy does not suit you, babe."

"Steve fucking Harrington?" He asked again. "I mean what do you even talk about with that guy? Different variations of the color beige?"

"At least he can stand to be seen with me in public!"

You were standing toe-to-toe with him now, chests heaving. His eyes squinted as he stared down at you.

"You want to be seen in public?" He asked. "Careful what you ask for, princess."

Before you could protest, his hands were on your shoulders, maneuvering you to his van; walking you backward until your back was pressed up against the side door. "Hopefully Harrington will wander out here looking for you." He reached a hand behind you, swinging the door open, and pushed you in. "He gives me the impression of someone who likes to watch."

Eddie crawled into the van after you, leaving the door open, not caring who saw or heard. His lips were on yours in an instant. You moaned as he ducked his head into your neck, working your nerves as he popped the button on your jeans. He didn't even care to pull them all the way off, or your shoes for that matter. As soon as he had pulled your pants down far enough to expose your pussy to him, he held your legs over his head and began thumbing your clit; spreading a slick coat of wetness along your swollen lips. He lifted you up, throwing your legs over his shoulder as his tongue hungrily delved into your core.

You gasped in surprise, hands flying to his hair, wrapping around the thick of his roots. You could hear him fumbling with his belt buckle as his tongue worked your dripping folds. Once he had freed his girthy cock, he lowered you down, still holding your legs over his shoulders with his arms now snaked around your thighs as he lined himself up with your core.

Without warning, he shoved his cock into the deepest part of you, feeling you tighten and loosen around his length. You moaned loudly, forgetting that the side door to his van was still wide open.

"Should I send you back to King Steve filled with my cum?" He grunted as he thrusted against you. "Let him hold your hand as you feel me dripping into those cute, little panties?"

Your eyes rolled back as he continued to pump into you.

"Look at you," he whimpered, so close already to finding his own release. He dragged his thumb across your bottom lip and you took his digit into you mouth. "Fuck!"

You could feel his cock pulsing against your walls as he filled you with warm ribbons of his cum. Eddie crashed on top of you, his face buried in your neck as he tried to catch his breath. Your hands moved to his shoulders, pushing him off of you with a sigh. You were already pulling your jeans up over your hips and fixing your shirt.

"What is it now?" He asked.

"It's nothing, Eddie." You replied.

"Oh, it's something."

You said nothing and stood up out of his van. Half of you wanted to just walk away and leave him there, like you had on Tuesday, but you couldn't do that again. You were miserable after the first time you did that- so miserable that you agreed to go on a date with Steve Harrington, of all people. This time you turned to him, looking him dead in the eye as you tried to find the right words.

"I'm not just some easy girl, Eddie." You spat at him. "I allowed you to fuck me in the parking lot, and in the bathroom, and in the auditorium that one time because I like you. I guess- I just thought that you liked me, too. I thought I was more than just some girl that you go down on in the passenger seat of your van, but I was wrong."

He opened his mouth to say something, but you held your hand up to stop him, wanting to get it all out.

"You just want sex," you continued. "You don't want to date me, you don't want me to be your girlfriend, you just want something casual, and I'm not that."

"What are you, then?" He asked.

"Leaving."

He said nothing as he watched you turn away, leaving him completely dumbfounded. For once, you felt like you had the upper-hand in this game the two of you had been playing for months now.

The walk from Eddie's van to the front doors of the Rollerdome felt like miles as the gravel of the pavement crackled beneath your feet with each step. You half expected him to run after you, take you in his arms, and confess his love for you, but you were met with nothing but silence. With a final glance over your shoulder, you reentered the roller rink, leaving Eddie to grapple with the unspoken complexities that lingered in the warm, Summer air.

The electric energy of the rink greeted you, once again; a stark contrast to the mood you had created in the parking lot. You didn't want to be here any longer and decided upon re-entry that you were just going to go home. Robin, Vickie, and Steve were all huddled around the table as another slow ballad played loudly through the speakers.

"There you are!" Robin greeted with a lukewarm slice of pizza in her hand. She took immediate notice of your changed demeanor and asked, "is everything okay?"

"No," you replied quickly as you grabbed your jacket. "I think I am just going to go home."

"Home?" Robin asked. "Now?" She stood up and pulled you over to the side away from Steve and Vickie. "Does this have anything to do with Eddie? I saw you running out after him earlier."

"Just forget it, Robin, okay?" You sighed as you turned towards her. You looked over her shoulder to see Steve and Vickie watching you. You lowered your voice, "It's over, okay? Yes, I'm upset about it and I hate that I'm upset about it. I wasn't expecting to actually like him."

Robin sighed, "I didn't realize it was like that, I'm sorry."

You shrug your shoulders and shove your hands in your jacket pockets. "It's fine, I'll get over it."

She gave you a half smile, "can we at least give you a ride. I'm sure Steve won't mind driving."

"I'm just going to walk," you muttered. "It's not far."

"Alright, catch you on Monday! Last week of senior year!" She exclaimed and raised her hands, mimicking pompoms for added flair. She outstretched her arms and wrapped them around you and provided a tight squeeze.

"Can't wait," you groaned unenthusiastically.

Monday came and went and before you knew it, the final bell of Friday rang throughout those hideous green and gold hallways as a sea of graduates congregated in the gym; tossing their shimmering green caps into the air, signaling the beginning of the rest of your lives. In one hand, your diploma and in the other, your yearbook filled with well-wishes and promises to keep in touch-- most of which you hoped would forever be unkept.

Robin found you outside in the courtyard after she had managed to escape her parents.

"Here's to the first summer of the rest of our lives," she said breathlessly. "Steve and I are going to the mall if you want to come, spend some of this graduation cash from my grandparents."

"I'm okay," you smiled at her. "Raincheck?"

"If you say so," she rolled her eyes. "Where are your folks?"

"My dad had a little too many of those little sandwiches they were giving out," you made a face. "Mom had to take him home early."

"I'm sure my parents could give you a ride home, if you wanted," she said with a soft smile.

Over her shoulder you watched as Eddie, still draped in his cap and gown, rushed off towards the back of the parking lot. "That's okay, I have a ride," you replied with a smirk.

You gave her a hug and slipped away; turning on your heel and escaping the crowd through the parking lot. As the cars grew thin, you noticed a familiar white van in the back, parked in its usual spot. The side door was open and Eddie was sitting in the back; a cigarette in between his lips and his guitar in his lap. His diploma was tossed up on the dashboard, and his cap and gown were tossed in the passenger seat.

He strummed skillfully as you walked up the side of his van. His eyes were lulled shut and his head was titled back on the headrest. He hummed softly and your lips couldn't help turning into a smile. He was so undeniably perfect and he didn't even know it.

"Is that new?" You had been hanging out with Eddie long enough now to know his songs by heart. He always asked your opinion on his songwriting.

His eyes fluttered open, but his fingers continued strumming. You could see his gaze taking you in as you effortlessly leaned against the passenger door. He shrugged lazily and tilted his head back once again, staring up at the scuffed metal ceiling of his van.

"I was feeling inspired," he finally replied as he exhaled smoke out of the corner of his mouth. "It's about a terrible, evil temptress who collects the souls of the men of the realm." You quirked an eyebrow at him. "Until one day, she meets a kind and handsome young man who doesn't have a soul to give. So instead, he gives her his heart."

"Sounds a bit dramatic," you replied as you tried to hide the smile creeping to your lips, once more.

"I was thinking about the other night," his fingers stopped strumming as he reached up to pull the cigarette from his lips. He exhaled another cloud of smoke.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, see," he took another drag from his smoke. "I do like you and I do want you to be my girlfriend, always have."

You threw up your hands, "It's hard for me to believe that, Eddie! We fuck nearly every day but you can't take me out on one date? How am I supposed to believe that you want me to be your girlfriend if you can't even respect me enough to take me out!?"

"We have too gone on dates! I bought you pizza that one time!" He exclaimed as he set his guitar back down in the case and snapped it shut. "And we watched your favorite movie!"

"We watched Troll," you deadpanned.

"Yeah, we did," he replied as he stood up out of the van. He towered over you as he stood up straight. "And after it was over you said that it was your new favorite movie."

"I was being SARCASTIC!"

"God damnit!" He spat right back.

"You took me back to your trailer because you were tired of fucking me in this van!" His jaw dropped at the accusation. "And the only reason you ordered pizza was because there was nothing else to eat and you struggle to even microwave a frozen TV dinner!"

His hand flew over his chest as he gasped. "You really are an evil and terrible temptress! Your words are venomous!"

You sighed, "Tell me honestly... is there something wrong with me?"

"You think there's something wrong with you?" Eddie asks, a small laugh escaping his perfect lips. He shakes his head and moves his hands up your arms to your shoulders, looking at your straight on. "Sweetheart, you're perfect."

A blush creeps to your cheeks and you can practically feel yourself melting in his hands.

"You're perfect, like, way too good for me," he continued, a bashful grin playing on his lips. "I should've said it before, a million times."

"You think?" You asked.

"Let's just start over, okay?" He pleaded and jutted his hand out to you as if he was asking for a handshake. "Hi, I'm Eddie. Will you be my girlfriend?"

You narrowed your eyes as you glanced down at his hand, pursing your lips in a futile attempt to suppress a smile. Fuck, you hated how goddamn charming he was. Giving up fully to him, you accepted his hand. Though, before you could utter a single word, he pulled you in for a lingering kiss that left you breathless.

"Say yes," he whispered as he pulled away, his lips hovering just above yours.

"Yes," you whispered as you look up into his dark brown eyes.

#Eddie munson #Eddie munson x y/n #Eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson fic #Eddie munson imagine #Eddie munson fluff #Eddie munson drabble #Eddie munson smut #Eddie munson x you #stranger things #Steve harrington #robin buckley #Joseph quinn #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine #stranger things x you #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x reader

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ecoamerica · 25 days

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belokhvostikova · 6 months

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐎𝐮𝐭

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | Your secret fling with Eddie Munson hadn't gone entirely under wraps, particularly to the know-it-all, Dustin Henderson. With the help of Robin and Steve, the three conspire to reveal the truth, resulting in two of the most awkward people going on a date together...

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Swearing, slight crying, alcohol consumption, awkwardness, insecurities, closeted sexuality, implied coming out, secret relationship, and some explicit sexual content: fondling, mention of porn, mention of oral, and unprotected vaginal sex (fairly minor, not the focal point).

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | This piece has literally been sitting in my Google Docs since June 26th, because when rewatching Friends, I though it would be a cute idea for a fic, so you'll see a lot of lines and parallels from the episode (season 5, episode 14). It's devastatingly unfortunate Matthew Perry passed when I was finishing this up. So, in memory of him and a toast to friendship, here is this fic. Be safe, appreciate life, and enjoy <3 I love you all.

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬, 𝐃𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭.

“Did you guys see that?!” A pointed finger of accusation was targeted against Eddie Munson, completely oblivious to his knowledge.

Steve Harrington had grimaced at the mush that was once a solid cheeseburger residing inside the slobbery mouth of Dustin Henderson, as the kid spoke with such urgency, clearly unperturbed by his lack of food etiquette and social decorum. But such skills could not be expected much from Dustin Henderson. That is unless, of course, an actual adult of authority had been in the presence, to which a gummy smile was expected to assuage whatever insulting comment about the need for manners that “The Hair” would proffer in disgust.

It was the second Saturday in a row that Steve’s been bombarded by the abuse of the children to let his residence be used for a pool party. He doesn’t understand how exactly he lost the backbone to say no to four teenagers, but the phenomenon had manifested into reality, and at the very least, a compromise was made for the young adults—of whatever weird mesh of a friend group this was between older teens, younger teens, crossover shebang—to tag along for a hot afternoon of relaxation.

“Yeah, Eddie’s hair totally looks like a wet mop.” Max Mayfield snickered between her sips of a twisty-straw-in-lemonade action. In truth, seeing lushes locks of black stick to his face and neck was quite amusing, especially when made worse as the metalhead re-calibrated like a dog, shaking his hair as a means of getting rid of the chlorine water that weighed down his head. One that could always get a good chuckle out of anyone.

“No! Not that! That!” The ghost trail that was of Eddie Munson walking inside the Harrington villa, as pointed to by Dustin as a means of evidence, did little to provide any context of support to whatever it was he was avowing about this time. In many instances, those close to him knew to just let his diatribes continue without interference. The kid’s standards were impossibly high; people’s mistakes of simple wrongdoings were always criticized by his superiority. ‘“Oh, I’m just gonna head to the bathroom real quick.’” Dustin mimicked, mocking the voice of his Dungeon Master with dramatic gestures of flailing arms. A testament surely to get his character killed in next week’s campaign, should he have been caught by the man.

“Yeah, Dustin, that’s kinda, like, a natural occurrence in life.” Mike Wheeler deadpanned with a patronizing voice to annoy, as it’d been known to exasperate his friend. It’d even gained a couple laughs from the lounging bodies strewn about in the breadth of the gardened backyard.

Lucas Sinclair had jumped at the opportunity to prod further, barking a deafening cackle. “Yeah, remember that bomb you dropped after the school’s attempt to serve enchiladas?” He slapped his knee with joy. “You had the janitor running from the stalls!”

That one really got a good laugh out of everyone. But before Max could even venture at an attempt to cater for further details, Dustin struck on offense to defend his honor from the sharings of his intimate privacy, definitively emphasized with an agitated tone of vexation. “No, no! You pinky swore that you’d never speak of it! Do I need to tell everyone what Erica found under your bed?!” Old reliable; blackmail, the bargain of a lifetime.

“The hell is under your bed, man?” Steve pondered, flipping a seared patty with a slab of American cheese ready to go. If it was anything like what was under his bed, he’d surely want no one to know.

“Nothing!”

“What I thought.” Dustin muttered with a glare, as Lucas shrunk in his chair to evade any potential threats of further questions that lay on the tips of his friends’ nosy tongues. “But again, that is not what I am talking about.”

Always the civil one out of the Wheeler clan, Nancy reassuringly stepped up to support her brother’s friend in need, settling everyone down. “We’re sorry, Dustin, go ahead.” It was to be expected she’d gain a heartfelt thank you from Dustin Henderson, himself, once the debacle simmered and the turbulence had passed. Nancy Wheeler always did have a special place in the kid’s big heart, particularly after the caring gesture of the 1984 Hawkins Middle’s Snow Ball Dance.

“How can you all be so blind?!” Dustin seethed. “You’re telling me none of you find it even a little suspicious that Eddie just so happened to go to the 'bathroom' right after Y/N’s excuse of wanting to 'change,' like, hello?!” He huffed. “They’re totally screwing!”

Dustin Henderson felt devastatingly vanquished when a unanimous vote of disbelieving what’s hurtled his way with no mercy. He felt useless- undermined. Like the bag of Fritos left behind when children would rather fight over Doritos or Sour Cream n’ Onion Lays, rather than appreciate the artistry of a simple corn chip, left alone and forgotten until a last resort when moms took too long to make dinner; never to be cherished in the dark corner of the bulk size box of Frito-Lays. Of course, they wouldn’t believe him. They didn’t witness what he had to tragically witness. He heard it so vividly. So hauntingly vivid. Sometimes, it kept the poor boy up at night. Last week- last Friday- Hellfire’s Friday, such an exhilarating night now befouled by the auditory version of what he learned in the ninth grade compulsory course of sexual education.

How naive of him to believe your actions stemmed from the kindness of your heart; offering your chauffeuring abilities to pick up the freshman after their campaigns, sauntering inside with a sickeningly sweet smile to pair with your tender greetings, and always wanting to lend a helping hand to the Dungeon Master, because “it just seems like so much to clean.” Puh-lease! The signs had been flashing in his face. The ulterior motives screaming in his ear. What sane person deliberately chooses to waste their time picking up three boys revved up with excitement and sweat after the thrills of Dungeons and Dragon? Jesus, shit, it was Friday night, don’t you have any plans?! Yeah, plans to stick your tongue down their Dungeon Master’s throat. Tainting the sanctity of Hellfire with your debauchery.

Dustin Henderson had forgotten his dice. Sometimes, he wishes he would have just let the damn things go.

“God, baby, a quickie- let’s just do it right here real quick.” Eddie’s begging voice vibrated behind the closed door of the drama department, seeping through the open cracks beneath the door, all for Dustin’s ears to hear.

And he tried to give him the benefit of the doubt- the kid really did. Pet names were far from unusual by use of Eddie Munson. The one instance the Byers dropped back into Hawkins during Spring Break, it was no doubt Will the Wise had to get a taste of the new man running the show, and when Eddie had given Byers the innocent compliment of being such a sweetheart, the kid blushed into oblivion, stuttering a thank you in return. Hell, not to mention the infamous “big boy” that followed Steve Harrington around wherever the man took on motherly duties. So, Dustin brushed it off. But the moment had quickly transpired into something cringe worthy to the fourteen-year-old who didn’t know better. It should have been his cue to run, but the fiery design of his dice cost him six bucks of his chores earning, and they weren’t about to be discarded, as if the sweat of his forehead meant nothing from an afternoon of bending over the mop bucket to clean the kitchen floors.

There are moments at night when he speculates if this is the doings of the heavenly man above that his beloved, Suzie Bingham, always mentioned; punishing Dustin in consequence of eavesdropping on a private matter that surely was not intended to be heard. But can you really call it eavesdropping when you were merely trying to retrieve your dice? No! You can’t!

“They’re already waiting for me in the car.” You whined against his lips. The figurine that was poking your hip was the last thing accounted for in your mind, as Eddie had showcased you onto the wooden table of the prop room. Lips smeared against yours, his hand had squeezed a chunk of your meaty thigh, bringing you forth to keep you in close company. “We can’t.” Can’t what, huh? Find the dignity to do it outside of school grounds?! Freaks!

“Little shits.” Dustin had appallingly gasped at the insult, feeling the stabbing wound of betrayal hit him in the chest as you laughed along, hand clutched over his heart to appease the pain of such affliction. The dramatics. “Come to my place after.” Eddie delicately kissed loving pecks to your lips. “That way,” his finger trailed up your thigh, “we can have our alone time, and I can finally get a taste of that pretty pu-”

Dustin Henderson knew to run away at that point. Safe to say, the kid never got his dice back.

“Are you insane?!” Motherly hand on the hip, Dustin didn’t appreciate Steve’s disciplinary tone of voice, sounding too much like his mother, Ms. Claudia Henderson, for his liking, as everyone agreed with Harrington’s proclaimed delusion against the boy. “Munson doesn’t have the skills to screw, let alone someone as hot as her.” He chuckled in disbelief.

Oh, boy, was he wrong.

“Mm, j-just like that, uh!” Your pelvis pummeled into the sink, tainting the precisely picked pristine porcelain by Mrs. Harrington, herself, as Eddie rutted his hips into the dampness that was your bikini bottoms to chase a release that was on the brink of snapping.

It was your fault he claimed; prancing in a top and bottom that left little to the imagination. Accusations of your outfit being chosen to taunt him were thrown your way, and your faux innocence only cemented it further. “Fuck- fucking take it—ugh, s-shit—take this fucking cock!” How could this ever be seen as a punishment when your boyfriend was lighting your body on fire with the ecstasy of abusing your g-spot?

Perhaps having sex in the bathroom of your mutual friend was far from the ethical rules of friendship, but the act of secrecy had bred a burning excitement that neither of you could contain. And, given the fact that four weeks ago, Steve had poked fun at Eddie’s singleness—not that Steve had any room to joke, though, at least, “The King” was relishing in the funness of meaningless hookups, something Eddie surely didn’t partake in, he lovingly had you—so seeking revenge in fucking his hot girlfriend in his friend’s bathroom had stirred something menacing in Eddie’s head to truly not give a single care in what he was doing was wrong.

“Yes! Yes! I’m gonna cum, fuck!” Fingers tightening on the edge of the sink, your heart soared watching the reflection of Eddie’s mouth panting with want, as he fucked your pussy, ready to release his load deep inside. His hands had snaked to grab handfuls of your bouncing tits, groaning as he felt your nipples poke through the coldness of your wet bikini top.

His hips harshly snapped against your rippling ass. “Cum all over my cock- shit! C’mon, pretty girl, fucking soak me- take all o’ me!” It barely felt as though he was pulling out, merely drilling in deeper and deeper. “I’m gonna cum- fuck, fuck, fuck, fu-”

“They are totally screwing!” The curls of Dustin Henderson’s head were on the verge of being ripped out in frustration; all that work he so earnestly dedicated night and day to maintain the silky bounce was about to be all for nothing. “They are! I heard them!”

Wrong choice of words. “You were listening to them screw?!” Robin gagged, triggering an onslaught of ew’s and perv’s- well, really, Max Mayfield had been the only one calling her friend a perv, doing it in the relaxation of her lounging chair, teasing behind her newly gifted heart-shaped sunglasses.

“No! No!” Dustin shouted in clarification. “I wasn’t listening! I heard them talking about it!” He agonized. “They’ve been doing it for at least a week! Behind our backs!”

“Oh!” Max ventured. “Let’s bet, I say they’ve been engaged for four months, and are pregnant!” She heckled, now clearly just taking the piss out of him.

“Has the water gone from your ears to your brain?” Robin laughed in his face. Surely the kid was mistaken, right? Aside from her personal himbo—Steve hated the nickname—you and Nancy Wheeler had become her newfound best friends. You know, a united front against the boys, girl talk, the whole shebang about girl code? Secrets weren’t a thing between your three! Granted, Robin, herself, was harboring a pretty large secret that only her himbo knew of, but that was different! Boys were nothing, she would gladly hear about all her friends’ boy problems, indulging in the drama of long distance or whatever the hell there was to complain about, but girls?! Yeah, that was, uh, that was just something- a topic still unbreached… at least, until she was ready.

“Fine!” The boy heaved, bailing out on defending his stance any further. “You guys don’t wanna believe, that’s just fine.” He snided. “But when they come back, and Y/N hasn’t changed out of her bathing suit, you won’t be laughing now!” Dustin Henderson ended his tirade with an embittered bite to his burger, dramatically dropping into his pool chair.

They’d all learn soon, and bow down to him.

So now, everyone waited. Waited for the fateful moment that would either prove Dustin Henderson right or wrong. And unfortunately- for you and Eddie, at least, your steamy escapade on the sink of the Harrington bathroom had left you too dazed and forgetful in the post-orgasmic bliss that was heavy breaths and loving touches of aftercare to keep up with the said excuse of “changing out of wet clothes” that got you alone with Eddie Munson in the first place. So when you marched out, glowing and relaxed—exactly two minutes and thirty-four seconds after Eddie’s “bathroom break” (so thoughtfully executed)—in the same damp bikini that had your secret boyfriend riled up to begin with, everyone gasped.

“What?” You looked around confused.

Unbeknownst to you, Dustin Henderson took a cheesy bite of his burger, loudly sipping a carbonated gulp of his cold Coke, ready to snap his fingers for another round of meals for his peasant friends to fetch.

He was right.

Robin Buckley confirmed it next.

That Monday to come, Robin was staggering over the words of Dustin Henderson, and trying to piece the evidence presented to understand what was transpiring in your double life. The events after your return from “changing” left you confused by the jarring stares of six pairs of eyes testing you. Nancy, with the softest approach, had questioned you on the lack of new clothes on your body, to which your knight in shining armor—or accomplice—stepped up to save you from the army of prodding friends. “A knot in my hair, yeah, I distracted her to help me get a knot out of my hair.” Sure, Eddie, sure.

During the uproarious minutes of lunchtime, you’d been ready to get an afternoon break from school to fork through Hawkins High’s poor excuse as to what constitutes consumable food, when the sudden scrutiny from Robin Buckley began. And, my god, was she persistent.

In the comical marching band she suited, Robin Buckley had rushed her attempt to the first approach. “Hey, Robs. You think I can borrow your notes for Civics, I-”

“So, I hear Jonathan’s coming back from California next week!” Something about rashly eating the served cut peaches seemed to play up to the normal act Robin was going for, but truthfully, it just made you eye her strange behavior weirdly.

“Oh.” You accepted the out-of-nowhere information. Maybe you won’t do so good on Mr. Vortroski’s test on Supreme Court cases as you originally thought. “That’s great for Nance-”

“Isn’t it?!” The enthusiasm she was exerting was truly taking it over the top. But Robin Buckley had a heart for caring, and perhaps the excitement for her friend was really bubbling up today. “Nancy said they’ve been planning, like, a lot of dates, you know, to catch up on lost time?” You casually nodded along. “Single dates, double dates… and then I was thinking, hey!” She perked. “Y/N’s young and good looking! She’s probably seeing someone! So are you, I don’t know, seeing someone? Anyone? Tall, dark hair? Anyone?”

“Uh…” Yeah, maybe the hastiness of Robin’s impetuous nature wasn’t the best route to go with. “No, um, no I’m not seeing anyone.” You gave a tight-lipped smile. “Nance and Jonathan are gonna have to find someone else to double date with- oh, maybe Steve! What’s that girl's name he’s been seeing, Brenda? Beatrice? Actually, you know what, it’ll probably be really awkward to ask your ex-boyfriend on a double date with your current bo-”

“You’re seriously not seeing anyone?!” Robin’s brows furrowed with frustration. You were lying to her face- you were lying straight to your best friend’s face! “Nobody? No one?” You begrudgingly shook your head. “No thing?”

“Robin,” you chuckled, “is there something you want to tell me?” There were lots of things Robin Buckley wanted to tell you. Like, for starters, the newfound revelation that she likes how she looks with mascara, after you left yours on the dresser of her bedroom during your sleepover two weeks ago. She had no plans of returning it back to you, either. Or, possibly the fact that Bridget—the actual name of Steve’s newest lover—stole his Farrah Fawcett hairspray- or the fact that Steve uses Farrah Fawcett hairspray. Maybe the other thing, as in the strange occurrence that happens to her heartbeat whenever Vickie from chemistry happens to be around. Or, the other other thing, like the fact that she spent an obscene amount of minutes staring at cover of “Scissoring with Seduction” starring Roxie Rockett and Viola Diamond, after organizing the adult films section at Family Video- actually, scratch that, she’d never tell a soul about that, not even Steve Harrington.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” She shot back with fervency.

“No…?” Your questioning answer had your friend igniting her dramatic flare, slumping in her seat with a defeated huff. Dustin Henderson would surely be owed a duly apology. At this point, you’d like to say this weirded you out, but you lived in Hawkins, Indiana. You’ve seen weirder.

Evidently not sufficed with your response, your friend sat up onto perched elbows. “Y/N, you know you can tell me anything, right?” A sincere approach. Undoubtedly better. “Like, you don’t have to be afraid to tell me stuff. I won’t judge or anything.” Robin solemnly smiled at you.

Your tender hand squeezed her arm. “I know.” You beamed. “I hope you know that the same goes for you, Robs. If you ever have anything you need to tell me, I’ll always be here to listen to you. Probably give you way better advice than Stevie.” You both chuckled at the expense of Steve Harrington. Robin Buckley understood the feeling of not being ready for the world to know, because knowing would change the dynamics of life, and having the world suddenly perceive you in a way they never have before was scary.

Having the world hate you for the tender love you caressed your partner with was terrifying.

You’d tell her when you were ready, just as she would with you.

With a nod to her head, she patted your hand. “You know, I asked Steve once on tips to upgrade my look, and he legit told me to do my eyebrows like Pamela Anderson.”

“The himbo, himself, is too unknowledgeable to know that Miss Anderson is the only one capable of pulling off the blonde bombshell look. Though, I would love to see him with pencil brows and blue eyeshadow.” You both laughed, before you reached over to pinch her chin. “Plus, your beautiful self doesn’t need any changing, Robs. Anyone would be lucky to wake up next to it.”

Yeah, she’d simply tell you when she was ready, just as you would with her.

By three o’clock, Robin Buckley had been worn down by the insufferable compulsion that was Mr. Heizer’s fifth period calculus class. With the last day of school being around the corner, Robin wondered what warranted Heizer’s balding head to be so miserable that he felt the need to subject his students with the abuse of derivatives. Trudging her feet against the pavement of the Hawkins High parking lot, Steve Harrington had came into view, where he brandished himself atop the hood of his car. Not the most irregular of sights, given the systemic routine of drop off and pick-up that had been structured for Monday through Friday, though today, Dustin Henderson had managed to find Steve’s BMW through the array of parked cars, and was found yapping his ear off.

So sorely critical-looking, Robin couldn’t help but tiredly chuckle. “What’s with the wrinkles, kid?” She approached.

Dustin huffed, letting his arms dramatically drop to his side in desperation. “Steve won’t go along with my plan!”

“What are you even doing here, Dustin, isn’t your mother, like, first in line at the car riders pick-up?” She laughed.

Steve exasperated. “He waved off his poor mother, like the lunatic he is, just to track me down and tell her I was giving him a ride!” He answered, propelling Dustin to gasp with a snide.

“So we can talk about the plan!” Dustin provoked the Italian—that he probably didn’t actually have—within him, as his loose fist shook in Steve’s vicinity.

“What plan?” Robin interjected.

“The plan to expose Y/N and Eddie!” Dustin stressed.

“Eddie and Y/N are not screwing.” Steve deadpanned. “What happened Saturday was just… some fluke coincidence, not proof to anything, okay? So let it go, Dustin. Just face it, you were wrong.” He chuckled a very much unappreciated chuckle in Dustin’s face.

“I am not wrong! I know what I heard! How many times do I have to be right on the money for you all to just trust me?!” Neither Steve or Robin appreciated the numerous stares the freshman was gathering from leaving classmates and faculty.

“Okay, just calm down, alright.” Robin shushed. “You're right-”

“Ha!”

“But I don’t think we should do anything.” Dustin heaved, scowling at Robin as if she just committed sacrilege.

“Are you crazy? Of course, we should totally do something!” Dustin retorted. “This is big news! Two of our best friends are dating! You know what this means?! I could have parents, Robin, and you know I don’t have a dad, do you really want to be the reason I never have a dad?” A pointed finger targeted her.

Her hand worked swiftly to smack his accusing finger away. “Eddie is not your dad, Christ, he’s not dating your mom.” She annoyingly sighed.

“Yeah, and also, I’ve known you for way longer. If anyone’s gonna be your dad, it’s gonna be me, not Munson.” Steve exhorted with ire.

Dustin mockingly laughed. “Please, you and mother have the same hips.”

Robin Buckley and Dustin Henderson were too engrossed in their conversation to bring any of their attention to Steve Harrington’s insulted gasp. “Look, Dustin, I already tried asking Y/N about it, and she’s just not ready to talk about it.” She explained. “Let’s just drop it until they’re ready to tell us.”

“Okay, but we can help them talk about it.” The kid returned with retaliation. “You know how great it was to see Nancy and Jonathan finally get together?”

“Which came at my expense, by the way.” Steve scoffed. “Don’t know why that brings you such joy.”

“Well, this is Y/N and Eddie, it’s even bigger!” Dustin smiled. “Look, all I’m saying is that a little encouragement never hurt anybody.” Call the boy annoying, he already knew that, but his intentions were coming from good faith. The notion of helping his friends find love- or more so express it, had him bubbling with excitement. “And the only way to get this love story rolling is if we get them to crack.”

Steve groaned. “Meaning?”

“Meaning, we have to make them break first.” Dustin was beginning to get his crazy eyes, something about conspiring a plan had him menacingly smirking his enthusiastic grin. “You know, trick them into telling us.”

Robin sighed, drilling the palm of her hands into her eyes. “Okay, you know what? Do whatever you like, Dustin, but I will not be a part of this plan.”

“Of course, you will!” Dustin implored with desperate hands grabbing at her arms to shake with emphasis. “You’re the one who’s gonna have to flirt with Eddie.”

Robin and Steve blurted in disbelief. “What?!”

“Well, Steve can’t flirt with Y/N, she’ll never go for it.” Dustin rationalized.

“Woah, woah, wait a second, what makes you think she wouldn’t go for me?” Steve plowed on, his ego taking an obvious hit by a child six years his age. “I’m a total catch, the ladies love me!” He argued. “And Robin, she can’t flirt with Eddie, she’s… uh, well, she- she just can’t!” He stepped up to try to help his friend, much to Robin’s appreciation.

Dustin sighed, placing a tender hand upon Steve’s shoulder. “Look, Steve, you gotta get over this crush you have on Robin-”

“I do not have a crush on Robin!” Steve flung Dustin’s arm away. “And back to this ‘Y/N not going for me’ thing, I can totally flirt with her to get her to crack!”

Dustin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, as though he was the adult in this situation. “Steve, c’mon, she calls you himbo behind your back, she probably thinks you have no personality.”

“I have personality!”

“No, you have hair!”

In the midst of the commotion, Eddie Munson had sauntered his way out of the double doors, cigarette in hand to relinquish the stress brought upon him throughout the day. Despite the matter that his van had been haphazardly parked on the west end of the parking lot for reasons being that your pretty self always used the end doors for the less crowded purposes—sue him, he loved the view—there was always something about Steve Harrington and Dustin Henderson arguing that always brought happy entertainment for the metalhead.

“Trouble in paradise?” His croaking voice startled the group, as they all looked at him stunned. “Jesus Christ, what’s with the faces?” Eddie laughed, as his cigarette scraped along the wetness of lips.

“N-Nothing.” Robin awkwardly had to offer, forcing Eddie to raise a brow at her.

And then he spoke. Dustin fucking Henderson spoke. “Actually! Uh, R-Robin what were you saying about Eddie just now?” She snapped a deadly glare back at him, to which he gladly challenged with a grating smile that had Steve quietly laughing in the back.

“You talkin’ about me behind my back, Buckley? C’mon, I thought we were friends.” Eddie lightly jabbed, as he paid more attention to his lighter, which was taking multiple rounds of clicks until it ignited.

“Nothing.” She assured. “I said nothing.”

“No, no, you were saying something about his outfit.” Dustin encouraged. God, how ethical was it to beat up a child? “About how he… looks nice.”

Robin sighed, as Eddie gave her a lighthearted smile. “Thanks, Rob, I’m really liking those patches.” He pointed to her sweater, finding nothing but the innocence of friendship in her supposed compliment.

“A-And something about his large muscles.” A curl of his hair was absentmindedly twirled as to appear uninvolved in the scheme of his mischief, and right as Eddie’s eyes left Dustin with a confused stare, the kid’s arm shoved Robin’s back to coach her further.

So, Robin Buckley, simply accepted. Though, tapping into her retired career of one year in drama club when she got the gracious role of playing Mrs. Soames in last year's production of Our Town proved to lack any skills training, when attempting to flirt with Eddie Munson had her stuttering like a child learning to speak. Then again, playing Mrs. Soames in Our Town didn’t exactly require her to flirt with her friend’s secret boyfriend who was a man!

“Y-Yeah, Eddie, uh, that m-material.” Robin bunglingly smiled, as a stiff hand touched the leather of his coat. “O-Oh, well, hello, Mr. B-Bicep.” She mentally prepared herself for the moment Steve Harrington would belittle her to death for her lack of flirting skills whenever this mess was over. “You’ve been, uh, working out?”

Attempting to give her the benefit of the doubt, Eddie chose to assuage the painful discomfiture with his casual sarcasm. “Ah, well, I try to, y’know, squeeze things.” Eddie recoiled at her over-the-top laugh that appeared too similar to that of Heidi Wilson’s, when she ran into him and Steve in the food court of Starcourt Mall last week, looking to allure his friend with whatever screech that was. “You okay?”

“Uh-”

“She’s just having guy problems.” Dustin interjected, much to Robin’s dismay. Never. Never in a million years would Robin Buckley ever have guy problems. “Go on, tell him.”

Yeah, Dustin Henderson wouldn’t see the age sixteen. “Well, uh, you know how you’re s-sometimes just looking for something, a-and don’t even realize that it’s, um, right there in front of you... s-smoking a cigarette?”

Eddie looked down at the lit cigarette in his mouth, and quickly stepped back in panic, all while Steve Harrington’s cheeks puffed with laughter, as his sealed lips worked overtime to not guffaw out loud. “U-Um, yeah, okay, I’m gonna go.” Eddie could only spare a quick glance to Robin, before throwing everyone a small wave goodbye.

Robin Buckley watched him walk away for two seconds, before slowly turning to Dustin Henderson, where he was met with her twitching eye. “You have five seconds to run.”

His mouth fell gape. “But wait, Steve’s my ride-”

“Five!”

That Monday afternoon, Dustin Henderson spent forty-five grueling minutes walking the three mile hike to his home, as punishment per Robin Buckley’s request. And yes, she did wave him goodbye, when Steve Harrington’s BMW swiftly passed him on the way over.

Steve Harrington confirmed it next.

And maybe was a little asshole about it.

Benny’s Burger had become the choice of dinner for the mundane Monday night he was currently enduring, because Eddie Munson refused to hit up the bar, despite the common courtesy that buying beers had become for the twenty-year-old men. At the very least, greasy burgers with a cigarette to follow would be the accommodation Eddie Munson could offer, since Steve Harrington had lost his weekly hookup, because his personal wingman decided to fall into a secret relationship- presumably. Steve was choosing to balance on the fence of whether or not to believe the words of a fourteen-year-old, mostly because if he did, Steve Harrington would become subjected to the sanctimonious behavior of a cocky teenager.

And who would want that?

“Lemme do a double cheeseburger with extra pickles, uh, no tomatoes, please. Ooh, with a side of cheese fries, a strawberry shake, and I’ll get that with a Coke, too. Thanks, Benny.” Steve eyed his friend. God, that man could eat. The bustling fan that chilled Benny’s sweaty neck had proffered a wonderful alternative to the sweltering humidity that tinted the large windows with fog. Aside from the burly trucker consuming the two cups of coffee to keep him awake for the night, Steve had all respective authority to slyly grill his buddy on whatever friends-with-benefits-slash-potential-boyfriend-girlfriend dynamic he shared with you.

Fuck it. “Uh, might as well do the same, Ben, what he said.” The laminated menu went unskimmed, closed off, and collected for the owner to take.

Assuring the boys their meals would follow out quickly, they met Benny with gracious thank you’s for the service, and Steve Harrington rashly followed the movements of the older gentleman, until his being was out of ear shot, promptly snapping his head back to his friend. “Why didn’t you wanna go to the bar tonight?!” If a sign as to why Robin Buckley and Steve Harrington were soulmates, for whatever reason, needed to be clearer than it already was, the incaution- not so subtle “subtle” approach was reason enough.

“Uh,” Eddie hummed, forcing Steve’s eyes to narrow in return, “I dunno, just didn’t wanna go for drinks tonight.” He shrugged, flicking at a sugar packet he had no intentions of using.

Steve raised a brow. “Really?”

The incredulous tone was quite too bitchy for Eddie’s liking, who merely scoffed. “Can’t a guy care about his liver?”

“Ed, there’s a pack of cigarettes hangin’ in your pocket.” Steve deadpanned. “Think organ functionality is the least of your worries.” Unwelcoming to the implied suspicion of accusation behind Steve’s comment, Eddie simply chose to stay silent, finding more interest playing with the provided condiments as trinkets for his entertainment. Steve rolled his eyes. “Y’know, I saw Myra at the laundromat not too long ago.” He scratched his clean shaven chin, playing into his nonchalant bit, that only left Eddie to raise his eyebrows in confusion as to where this was going. “She looked nice; got her hair done, these pretty, little braids, y’know, with the gold cuffs and whatnot.”

Eddie’s head lolled, enjoying the simple task of his finger tracing the obscured lines of the faux granite table top, when the ketchup label had been read to its entirety. “So?”

“So,” Steve emphasized, “you coulda called her up, y’know, tell her to meet you tonight. How long has it been since you’ve seen her- or any girl for that matter?” He slyly asked.

“Not interested.” Blunt and suffice, surely enough to ward off anymore of Steve’s prodding questions.

But Steve merely scoffed. “What, in girls anymore?”

And in true Eddie Munson fashion, a shit-eating grin consumed his face, devious smile lines and all, as he leaned on perched forearms to invade Steve’s space. “Aw, why? You interested, big boy?”

Yeah, this conversation would be going nowhere.

As the sparing minutes filled to meaningless conversations, their full course dinners made the quick arrival, and Steve pondered at the various ways a confession could be pummeled out of Eddie Munson’s mouth, which was currently being stuffed to the brim with mushing bites of each food group—minus the vegetables, this was Benny’s Diner after all. There was the ex-fling route, but clearly Eddie wasn’t looking to explore that again; good news for you, at least. That is if anything Henderson claimed was actually true. Little shit-

But wait a minute, that was it! What would Dustin Henderson do?!

He could still hear his grating voice. "Well, Steve can’t flirt with Y/N, she’ll never go for it." As if. Steve Harrington could get you- hell, Steve Harrington could get anyone. Graduating out of the social hierarchy of high school totally hasn’t affected his game… totally. But digressing, if Dustin Henderson could scheme up a plan with no substance, Steve Harrington could, too. If anything, this would make so much more sense, given that Robin doesn’t even like boys. Dustin Henderson didn’t know anything, but Steve, yeah Steve Harrington was way more cunning than some snappy child with no regard for people’s business. Yeah, Steve Harrington could totally do this…

Eddie’s chewing slowed, brows cinched, as he wondered why the hell Steve Harrington had been silently smiling to himself for the past minute. And people saw him as a freak? Fucking weirdo.

“Hey, uh,” Steve cleared his throat, presumably back to being normal, allowing Eddie to continue to shove his face with a strawberry milkshake covered cheese fry, unperturbed by Steve’s judgemental grimace, “I’m thinkin’ of askin’ out Y/N.”

Suddenly caught in his throat, Eddie began coughing up the fry he just downed, as Steve smiled with such amusement at the torment he just caused his friend. Maybe Henderson was right. “W-What? You wanna what?”

“Yeah, been thinkin’ about it, and y’know, I’m really feeling her.” Steve cocked a smirk that had Eddie’s face scrunching with agitation. “Very smart, funny, really fucking pretty, so…”

“I d-don’t, um- you really think that’s a g-good idea?” Eddie adjusted in his seat, composing the bubbling feeling that stirred terribly with the monstrosity he had just eaten.

Taking a large bite from his burger, Steve grinned happily. “Why wouldn’t it be?” Hunger and entertainment wonderfully satiated on this peaceful, late Monday night.

Eddie shrugged, sulkingly throwing a stray pickle in his mouth. “I dunno, you’re just friends n’ all.” He mumbled.

“Oh!” Steve’s eyes gleamed with laughter behind them. “You don’t think friends should date-”

“No, no, no, no!” God, the last thing Eddie was about to do was inadvertently claim your relationship was some end all be all cataclysm, but did it really have to come at the expense of encouraging his friend to date his secret girlfriend?! “I-I mean, like, some friends c-can date, like, um, good friends-”

“So, me and Y/N?” Steve quietly chuckled to himself, as he watched Eddie fret with frustration.

“No- I mean, I dunno!” He exasperated, as Steve relished in his greasy food with a smile on his face. Eddie’s heart began sinking into his stomach. He understood how demeaning it would be to conclude you as the type to jump into Steve’s arms once he’d make the “inevitable” move. God, for once in his life someone with care to proffer promised him fundamental security, and there was no denying it, he felt. Felt it in your caressing hands, your saccharine words, your devoted kisses, your gentle touches- you touched with such love… at least, that's what it felt like. Does Eddie Munson even know love? He swallowed thickly. “D-Do you even think she would go for you-”

“I have personality!” Steve proclaimed, finger pointed and all, forcing Eddie to shove back in surrenderance, hands in the air, and a confused look to pair.

“Okay, I’m not sayin’ you don’t, geez.” Eddie clarified, as Steve huffed, raking a harsh hand through his Farrah Fawcett hairsprayed perfection. “J-Just maybe don’t. Like, um, i-if it doesn’t work out, it could get really bad between you two, a-and it would be fucking horrible not to have her in your life at all, you can’t lose her, man.”

Voice so small and eyes so distant, there was a deep inkling that perhaps Eddie was speaking his fears aloud. Because even in the greatness that was having the privilege of calling you his girlfriend, there was a world full of Steve Harringtons that could provide you with more than what any Eddie Munson ever could. Late at night, when the world could finally offer you both the peace to just be, entangled in arms and legs, Eddie would just stare at you and… know. Know that there is a feeling that scares the living shit out of him that he can’t feel for anyone else. A different type of feeling from the camaraderie of his club, who triumph against the evil of the universe. A different type of feeling from the shoulders he’s cried on of his uncle, because Eddie truly cannot thank him enough. You, you were a different type of feeling. One that left him just wanting to look at you, smell you, touch you, think of you all day.

This wasn’t just infatuation, god, it felt like pure fucking lo- shit, what would he know. Eddie Munson didn’t know love.

A sudden wave of regret washed over Steve, as he realized the saddened roundness of his buddy’s eyes. “Nah, man, that’s not gonna happen.” His calm voiced reassured. “I mean, it’s Y/N, why would she ever allow that to happen? Y’know, so what, things don’t work out between… me and her,” he explicated, “doesn’t mean your- I mean, our friendship has to change.” Steve watched, as Eddie nodded along, shoulders slumping in relaxation. “We talk it out, we understand each other, and we move on as friends. Together. We’ll still love each other like that. And, hey, at least we’ll both get a hot hookup out of it.” Okay, maybe he was still being a little shit, but he was only channeling his inner Henderson. Plus, the snapping glare from Eddie was quite priceless.

“Are you really gonna make a move on Y/N?” His jaw ticked with clenched teeth.

“I dunno.” Steve smiled, before snapping his fingers with a brilliant revelation, “Y’know what, I saw Robin flirting with you earlier today, how ‘bout we go on a double date?” Yeah, now he was definitely just teasing. “Hell, make it a triple one once Byers and Wheeler head back into town.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Robin was not flirting with me, she was just being… weird.” He pondered it for a second. What the hell was that that happened this afternoon? There’s no way she actually- no, impossible. Could she? No, that didn’t feel right. Well, maybe-

“Hey, do you actually think I have personality?” Oh, Stevie.

On Tuesday evening, the Family Video store saw the little customers it was regularly accustomed to; Mr. Fredrickson, only to be accounted for, slowly roamed the documentary section, particularly interested in the historical segment for his afternoon leisure.

The nub of his cane poked an indent into the carpeted floors, as his supported weight allowed for close inspection of the bolded titles that plastered in an array of colors. Luckily, the lens of his glasses were thick enough to provide him the ability of sight to read what was on display for night, leaving you to mindlessly thumb through this month's issue of Cosmopolitan. “Hm.” Mr. Fredrickson gruffed. “What d’ya make of the Franco-Prussian War, darlin’?”

The Proven Personal Approach to Permanent Weight Loss. An Incredible Shrinking Woman Tells How She did it! Christ. You found more interest flipping back to the written Cosmo’s quiz determining what kind of husband your current rendezvous would make.

“Uh…” Your back was beginning to ache from finding all support on your perched elbow digging into the counter, letting your cheek fall to your palm. “You did the Napoleonic Wars last time, no? Why don’t you give the French a break?” You skimmed the printed words of the glossy pages.

His wrinkled pointer finger shakingly racked through the tapes, as he took your word of advice. Your eyes were hanging onto the last bit of energy they were enduring to stay awake, but the weight of eyelids inevitably began to win, and it surely didn’t help that the liveliness of your thriving life was partaking in conversations with an elderly man who found amusement in learning about wars.

But before a potential write up—Keith never found the actual courage to do so, loved to threaten it, though—for sleeping on the job could be scolded, the welcoming bell of the front door rang loudly enough to alert some life back into your body.

“Welcome to Family Vide-euuawghh.” A guttural yawn ripped out of you, slurring your standardized greeting into an embarrassing mush of sounds.

With watery eyes scrunched from tiredness, a rushed apology to your incoming customer had proved to fall unnecessary, as a familiar chuckle addressed you back. “Aw, such rigorous labor, working my baby to death, huh?” Eddie Munson, himself, teased, as he leaned to hover over the counter and close to your sluggish face.

“Don’t tease me.” Your mouth jutted in offense, as you rubbed your eyes to the clear sight of being welcomed by Eddie’s bourbon eyes and a smug curl to his lips.

His rough-tipped thumb caressed the hairs of your brow to ease. “How can I not when it gets you to make that cute pout at me, hm?”

You piqued with giddiness. “Because I’m your girlfriend.” A label you quickly learned to adore. “And you shouldn’t be mean to your girlfriend.”

Eddie smiled a breathy chuckle, as he peered at your lips. “Yeah, you are my girlfriend, huh?” He proudly verbalized with a husk to his tone. His mouth was itching to say more, pour out all he felt for the girl standing before him, but a counter the size of the world divided the union between two beating hearts of devotion. And manifesting his words of love paved the way for the potential loss of you. But not doing so also did the same. Because he’s learned good things don’t last for Eddie Munson. And what a unless world it would be to lose the profoundness of you.

God, he wanted to punch Steve Harrington for last night.

Eddie took a deep breath. His bangs landed against your forehead, and scrunched under your nod of confirmation. You are his girlfriend. “Where’re the other two stooges?” He whispered, his breath fanning across your face.

“In the back doing inventory.” You gladly answered the words Eddie wanted to hear. He bashfully leaned in, though before his mouth could meet yours, you pulled back with furrowed brows. “Wait, ‘other two stooges,’ am I the third?”

Eddie barked out a boyish laugh, as he watched your faux face of aversion and shock. His large hands made your face feel small as he cupped your cheeks and brought you forth. “God, you’re so pretty.”

His lips crashing upon yours had wiped your expression of any annoyance you tried to playfully brat out. His mouth moved against yours so languidly, it had you falling limp to his kiss, as he expressed all that he felt with the touch of his lips. Eddie pulled away slowly, leaving you to quietly hum in retaliation and chasing his lips.

“Sorry.” He chuckled, providing you with one more loving peck. “But, hey, y’know, speaking of the other stooges, uh, Robin and Steve,” he cleared his throat, “you notice anything weird about ‘em, like lately?”

The cafeteria. “Um, yeah, actually.” You contemplated on the thought. “Why, did they say something?”

Nausea hit him like a truck, wondering if "The Hair’s" attempts to get at you were already happening quicker than expected. “S-Steve, he, uh, he said something to you?” Eddie felt his throat dry up.

“Steve? No, Steve’s been Steve, but I was mostly talking about Robin.” Jesus Christ, did you bring peace to his world.

“Oh, yeah,” He puffed a breath of relief, “um, weirdest thing happened after school yesterday, but I think Robin was hitting on me.” Confusion had been written all over your face, as you pulled back from the counter. “She was, like, totally into me.”

“What?” You chuckled. “No, not possible.”

“Okay, ow.” Eddie playfully rolled his eyes, as you laughed, rubbing a soothing hand down his arm in apology.

“I’m sorry, didn’t mean it like that” you giggled, “but I’m sure you probably just misread things, you know? Robin finds you charming in a platonic way, like with Steve.”

Eddie straightened up. “No, I’m telling you, sweetheart, she was all over me.” He persisted. “I mean, for crying out loud, she was touching my bicep.”

A smug smile took over your face, as you arched your brow at him. “This bicep?” You teasingly squeezed his soft arm.

Eddie scoffed. “Well, it’s not flexed right now.”

The back storage unit of Family Video had been littered with an influx of tapes, both coated in dust to be long forgotten and pristine with the newest release of what Hollywood had to offer. This year’s box office hit Top Gun starring Nancy Wheeler’s poster boy, Tom Cruise, or the fourteen-year-old The Ruling Class with the musical humor following a priest’s death due to his autoerotic asphyxiation kink? Robin Buckley laughed. Always the latter.

“God, can’t believe Keith expects us to organize this junk.” Steve huffed, swiping his palms against each other, only to scowl at the specks of dust that floated into the air under the beaming sunlight. “I should be seeing Bridget right now, or Heidi, or taking out Linda, maybe Jeanie, haven’t talked to her in a minute.” Robin rolled her eyes at the endless sex-capades that was Steve Harrington’s love life. Christ, she couldn’t even get a clear sign that Vickie from chemistry wasn’t standing so straight. “Or-or maybe Y/N.” He chuckled to himself.

“What?” Robin prodded.

“Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you, last night I was completely bugging out Munson, and told him I was planning on askin’ out Y/N.” Steve laughed, briefly coughing as dust particles blew off the VHS tapes.

Robin was only left deadpanning in disappointment. “You did what now?” She scoffed. “You’re supposed to be on my side, I thought we were supposed to let it go?”

“You’re the one flirting with your friend’s boyfriend.” He argued.

“Because that little twerp forced me to!” The Ruling Class came hurdling to his chest, as she chucked it.

Shoving old movies aside, Steve grappled onto the box of new releases to shove into Robin’s arms, as he handled the second load. “Look, it doesn’t matter anymore, there are no sides, as much as I hate to admit it, Henderson was right about those two screwing.” Steve enthused. “You should’ve seen the look on Eddie’s face when I told him I was gonna make a move on Y/N.”

Robin huffed. “Okay, so let’s just leave it at that and let them screw in peace- or, even better yet, let’s just tell them we know, so they can have the freedom to do what they want.”

“Aw, but where’s the fun in that?” Steve whined.

Robin laughed at his childish mewl. “And, unless Munson gets rid of the thing in his pants and learns to grow a cup or two, I am not flirting with him again.” She playfully gagged, while reminiscing on yesterday’s events.

“Please,” Steve derided, “you can’t even look Vickie in the eye, I highly doubt if Munson suddenly grew some tits you’d become some sort of Casanova.” He snorted, opening the door. “Mr. Bicep?”

Before Robin’s sneaker could step foot back into the main lobby of Family Video, Steve’s grasp onto the collar of her shirt flung her back into the storage room, with a slam to the door. “Are you inane?!” She chastised, while attempting to find her balance with a ten pound box of VHS tapes.

“Munson’s out there!” He whisper-yelled into her face.

“Okay, so?”

“So, we gotta get in there, and stir the pot a little.” His brows danced impishly against his forehead.

Robin’s face dropped vacantly. “What about anything that I literally just said didn’t click for you?” A smack against his head from her hand had him reeling back in defense.

“Ow, okay, I get it, Munson doesn’t have boobs.” Steve huffed, rubbing out the dulling pain. “But, look, Dustin wasn’t that far off, a little encouragement doesn’t harm anyone. He thinks that you like him and that I like her, you’re telling me this isn’t even a little funny to you?” My god, did Steve Harrington have a charming way of flaunting that stupid smirk that had Robin hold back a chuckle. Because in retrospect, Eddie Munson believing his lesbian friend had a crush on him, while her partner in crime, her himbo, had a supposed liking to his secret girlfriend was quite funny. Funny like a priest dying from his autoerotic asphyxiation kink.

She sighed, giving him a pointed glare. “One time, Harrington. This is the one and only time I will ever flirt with a man again.”

Steve threw his hands up in defense, as a smile lingered on his face. “Highly doubt there will ever be a time in which I ask you to do that again.” He laughed, while slinging the door open. “Plus, it’s Munson. I’m sure his cynicism won’t even count it as flirting.”

“Well, Y/N's flirting surely worked.” She joked, as they stepped out.

“You think it’s because he has personality or nice hair?” Steve interrogated. “Because I sure as hell have way better hair than him.”

Despite your alluring face, Eddie caught a glimpse of Steve and Robin making their way over while looking past your shoulder, forcing him to make the regretful decision to back away from you. “Ed.” Your tiny pout of confusion made it all that harder, until Steve’s voice boomed out.

“Hey, y’know, as a customer, you’re supposed to actually rent something!” Him and Robin joined you both at the counters, where they sat the boxes of movies. “Or, you could, y’know, stock shelves with us.”

Eddie flipped him the bird, as he smiled. “Actually, I was just stoppin’ by to ask if Halloween is still rented out.” He turned to look down at you with a smirk. “Is it?”

“I can go check that for you.” Your sweet customer service voice had him biting back a grin, as you stepped away to the computer.

As Steve and Robin began displacing films from the boxes, his elbow nudged her side to grab her attention away from organizing. “Just keep it casual.” He whispered, as she rolled her eyes. “Look, I’m sure if you unfocus your eyes, the five o’clock shadow will go away, and he’ll totally look just like Vickie.” And he huffed right back when Robin rightfully scoffed at him. “What? They have the same eyes… just, y’know, different color… and shape.”

Robin waved him off before anything further could come out of his mouth. With The Fly nestled in her grasp, Steve threw her a nod of encouragement, before scurrying to the shelves with a small laugh escaping his lips.

“Sorry, Eds.” You clicked off the computer. “Landon K. beat you to it; no Halloween.”

“Should totally check out The Fly.” Robin slyly imposed, as she handed him the film. “Can never go wrong with some Cronenberg, right?” Eddie inspected the film with a shrug. “Sure, better than taking movie suggestions from Harrington.”

There came the inordinate laugh from Robin that had Eddie throwing you a knowing glance, and Robin, herself, internally dying inside. “Ha! Always so funny!” She clumsily fist-bumped his arm. “Uh- anyway! Better get back to work.” A large smile flashed both your ways.. “I, uh, I’ll see you later… handsome.” And following in the footsteps of her grandmother when she wasn’t screaming something batshit crazy, Robin Buckley pinched Eddie Munson’s cheek before running away to Steve Harrington.

“You pinched his cheek?!” Steve contemptuously chortled in her frazzled face that burned with embarrassment.

Robin’s hands smack her face, dragging the skin down, as she groaned. “Well, I don’t know how to do the whole flirting thing!” Her fist came smacking down at his chest.

Steve bent at the waist with a cramping stomach of laughter “Okay, yeah, but he’s not a baby!”

Your eyes followed Robin’s running figure until she disappeared into the maze of shelves, and you incredulously turned to your stunned boyfriend. With his mouth wide, and eyes bulging, Eddie fretfully spoke. “Okay, did you see that?! With the compliment, and the pinching?!”

You bewilderedly settled at the realization. “Actually, I did.” You couldn’t believe it. Your best friend was flirting with you boyfriend- well, technically, she had no clue he was your boyfriend, but still- Eddie? Not to sell your boyfriend short, god, he was perfect in every way, but Robin? Robin and Eddie?!

“Okay, so now do you believe that she’s attracted to me?” He persisted.

You thought for a second, and Eddie Munson watched your face drop with concern, as your hand clutched your chest. “Oh, my god! Oh, my god! She knows about us!” You cautiously warbled, as you began pacing about behind the counter.

Eddie’s face scrunched with distress. “Are you serious?”

“Robin knows, and she’s just trying to freak us out!” You belabored, anxiously looking back to where Steve and Robin could no longer be seen. Your hands dramatically dropped at the revelation. “That’s the only explanation for it!”

Eddie vacillated at the unwarranted insult. “Okay, but what about my pinchable face and bulging biceps?” He confidently pointed to his arm, before the lacking muscle of scrawiness suddenly hit him like a truck. “She knows!”

Your hand comically slapped the counter, as you chuckled in disbelief at her attempt to fool you. “Oh, man, she probably thinks she’s so slick for messing with us.” Eddie joined in, frenziedly laughing, completely feeling stupefied, though giving props to the mastermind, nonetheless. Impressed he was. “But, hey, you know what? She doesn’t know we know she knows, so…”

“Ah, yes!” Eddie piqued with interest. “The messers become the messees!”

“You sure you kids are alright?” Shrugging on his utility jacket for the night, the aging lines of Wayne Munson’s forehead scrunched with suspicion for the nightly activity his nephew and his supposed “friend” were going to be up to.

Sure, the sight of you over at his trailer wasn’t something peculiar, in fact, for the past months, you, in particular, were the only one of Eddie’s buddies who made a regular appearance to their humble abode. Why? Well that was a question that still went unanswered whenever Wayne tried to prod into the life of his nephew. But the way Eddie would blush, while simultaneously attempting to quickly change the subject, made Wayne’s throat tickle with a chuckle.

Who the hell were you two fooling?

But now, with much concern from Wayne, it seemed as though Eddie’s oddities had begun rubbing off on you, as you both strangely huddled around the yellow home phone, clearly waiting for the second Wayne would close the door behind, as he left for the graveyard shift.

Attempting to “casually” lean against the paneling of the wall, Eddie’s head was quick to snap up and down in return. “Yeah, yeah.” He rushed. “Better get goin’, don’t wanna be late for the bosses.” He threw an overcompensating smile, as you sat at the kitchen table, merely following suit to that of your “friend.” Wayne Munson couldn’t care less about the bosses.

“Alright then.” The old man huffed, picking up the keys of his pick-up truck, letting the humid spring breeze waft through the front door. “Get ‘er some dinner if you’re makin’ ‘er stay late.”

“As always.” Eddie threw you a sly wink, as Wayne left with a quick exchange of goodbye thrown from both parties, until the front door finally closed.

At the click, you sprung from your chair, snatching the phone out of the receiver to hand to Eddie, to which he happily grabbed with a maniacal snicker. “You sure she’s over at Steve’s?”

Your fingers were fervent with the harsh press to the buttons, dialing the numbers to phone the Harrington residence. “Uh huh, something about watching Fast Times with Robin.” The second your finger pressed down on the last digit, you were quick to maneuver the phone against Eddie’s ear. “Okay, just stick to the script.”

Eddie scoffed, flipping his hair back. “Sweetheart, please, I was able to get you, I sure as hell can get Robin.” Your hand met his chest with a chastising slap. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” He laughed.

Up the road, on the secluded sector of Cornwallis Street, Robin Buckley was anxiously plowing through a bowl of popcorn, as the fifty-second minute was fastly approaching, and suddenly Phoebe Cates was climbing out of the pool with the detrimental ambience of teenage horniness.

“Here it comes, here it comes!” Steve snickered, as he absentmindedly chewed on a licorice piece.

Robin’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “God, Steve, you don’t have to point out the obvious!” But after forcing her friend to endure two hours and thirty-four minutes of the satirical musical critique of institutional religion that was The Ruling Class, Steve decided to return the torture by subjection of… boobies.

“What I’m point out is the fact that Vickie lived through this exact moment, meaning she was staring at boobies, meaning-”

“Don’t say it!”

“Vickie likes boobies!” Steve implored, the largest grin on his face, as he watched Robin slap her hands onto her face at a brutal attempt to shield herself from the mortifying experience that was having Steve Harrington as a friend.

But, in slow motion, as Phoebe Cates’ fingers clutched onto the center hook of her bikini bra, the phone shrilled, allowing Robin to exhale a “thank god,” as Steve’s attention begrudgingly turned to the incoming call.

Swiftly jumping to the end table, Steve picked up the brick phone. “Yeah, hello?” He spoke, munching on another rope of his candy, surely missing the quick glances Robin was making back at the TV. Steve’s brows piqued at the static voice. “Oh! Yeah, she’s right here!” Turning to Robin, his hand cupped over the speaker, as he giddily shoved the phone to her. “It’s Eddie, he’s probably gonna cave in.” He whispered.

Rolling her eyes, Robin cleared her throat from any stray popcorn kernel, ready to end this once and for all. “Hello?”

Back at Forest Hills, your toes pressed against the linoleum tiling of the kitchen floor to push yourself up to his height, smushing your ear against the other side of the phone, as mischievous smiles consumed both your faces. “Hello, Robin… I’ve been thinkin’ about you all day.” Eddie channeled his most suave voice, forcing you to bite back a laugh, suppressing your mouth into his shoulder.

“Huh?!” Devious as ever, both you and Eddie almost broke at her considerable shock.

Steve raised a questioning brow, attempting to scoot closer, only for Robin to preserve her personal bubble and shove him back. Much to his nosey dismay. “Well, y’know that thing you said before, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t intrigued.” Eddie teased, as you nodded your head along to show your proudness for your boyfriend flirting with your friend.

Yeah, things in Hawkins, Indiana surely were weird.

“R-Really?” Robin choked, as the popcorn in her stomach suddenly turned at the uneasiness of male attention. Gross.

Ever the villain, Eddie smiled triumphantly. “Yeah, listen my uncle isn’t gonna be here tonight, so why don’t you come over, and I’ll let you, uh, feel my bicep… or maybe more.” You quietly chuckled. God, what a cute loser.

Robin grimaced, stuttering with concern. “Uh, you know, I-I’ll have to get b-back to you on that, uh, okay, bye!” She was quick to hang up the phone, while you and Eddie intimately celebrated in the lonesome of his kitchen with silly squeals and tiny jumps. “Oh, my god! He wants me to come over to feel his bicep and more!”

Steve Harrington was left speechless at Robin’s panicked announcement, as his mouth hung wide. “Are you kidding?!”

“No!” She gagged. “I know what I heard!”

Steve felt incredulously at the scumminess of his friend. “I cannot believe he would do that to… wait a second.” His brows furrowed. Eddie Munson nearly launched at the chance to shut down any ideas of Steve dating you, why on Earth would he suddenly- oh, shit. “They know!”

“What?!”

“They know that we know!” Steve clarified, as the gears in Robin’s head turned, until her face was enlightened with the fact of the matter which was that her best friend was trying to deceive her right back!

She gasped. “I can’t believe those two!” Instantaneously, any reservations Robin initially had for Steve and Dustin’s plan had left, as all she felt was dramatic offense at the idea of trying to be demeaned.

“They thought that they could mess with us?!” Steve proclaimed.

“They’re trying to mess with us?!” In disbelief, both friends chuckled with bewilderment at the unexpected slyness coming from you two. That was, until Robin Buckley schemed with realization. “They don’t know we know they know we know!”

Steve’s face scrunched with confusion, though nonetheless a team player, he nodded along, giggling at Robin’s wicked implication. Suddenly, a call to the Henderson household was in need.

Dustin Henderson’s calves burned under the rigorous strain of bike riding from the northern end of Cornwallis street to reach Steve’s house. Haphazardly disposing his bicycle in the driveway, Dustin had barged in with no warning, coming face-to-face with Robin Buckley, resident polyglot band geek, wearing Mrs. Harrington’s blue cocktail dress, as Steve Harrington, retired king of Hawkins High, played makeup artist with his mother’s newly bought red lipstick in hand.

It was undeniable at this point, Hawkins, Indiana was most definitely weird.

“Would you just quit moving, so I can put this on you?!” The vein on Steve’s forehead became pronounced under the immense pressure he felt. Being a makeup artist surely wasn’t easy, especially when your client was nagging about the intense blush placement of his work.

“Enough with the makeup, it’s Eddie for Christ sake!” Robin complained, enduring the endeavor of trying to shove Mrs. Harrington’s shoes onto her feet. God, why was the woman’s shoe size so small?!

“Really Steve?!” Robin and Steve jumped at the intruding voice of Dustin, as the kid stood with his hands on his hips, imitating the signature pose of the man before him. “That’s totally not her color, you’re making her look like a clown!”

Both parties scoffed, rightfully offended.

Robin pushed Steve away, rubbing her cheeks harshly to blend out the monstrosity that was Steve’s makeup skills. “Okay, this is plenty!” She stressed. “We’re gonna call him, we’re gonna get that date, and we’re gonna win!”

The boys cheered, Dustin more so heavily appreciative of this new Buckley mentality, as they circled around her when she reached for the phone. “Mm! You better grab a spring roll before I eat ‘em all.” Eddie’s crowded mouth of mashed vegetables spoke. Chinese had been delivered in the wake of your celebration, congratulating both of you for your—mostly Eddie—duplicitously clever work.

In the midst of diving into your tangled lo mein, the phone shrilled, which had Eddie springing from the couch. “Probably calling back to surrender!” You cheered, as Eddie snickered, sliding his socked feet into the kitchen. “Good job on creeping her out, babe!”

Eddie bowed, accepting whatever weird kind of praise that was, before answering the phone with a muffled mouth of spring rolls. “Hello?”

“Be sexy.” Steve encouraged, eliciting a scoff from Robin, as she turned her focus onto the phone call.

“Hi!” Both terribly displeased with her lack of commitment, Robin was met with strict glares from Dustin and Steve to amp it up… so, she did. Clearing her throat, she dropped an octave to obtain the sultriness of what she could only assume Roxie Rockett and Viola Diamond to sound like. “Uh, I mean, hey, you.” Robin Buckley wanted to puke. “So, Eddie, I’d love to come over tonight.”

A piece of pork was hacked from Eddie’s throat, as he choked on his food. “R-Really?!”

Watching his face drop, you stood with concern wondering what was going on on the other line. “Oh, absolutely. Should we say around nine?” Eddie checked his clock. In fifteen fucking minutes?!

But Eddie Munson wasn’t going to back down. Eddie Munson, Dungeon Master of the great Hellfire, who’s pushed his men to prevail against the nefarious dark lords of villages and towns alike, was not going to be defeated by Trumpet Girl. The man glared his eyes. “Yes.” He tested.

Robin Buckley accepted his challenge. “Good.” She smiled, as she watched Steve motion for her to crank it up a notch. “Uh, I’m really looking forward to you and I h-having sexual intercourse.” The phone hung up and flung from her hands the second the words left her mouth.

Eddie Munson’s face dropped. Dustin Henderson gagged. Steve Harrington laughed. And Robin Buckley wanted to crawl into a hole to forever perish in the depths of torturous hell.

Because that’s what it felt like to flirt with a man.

“Okay, showtime!” Dustin applauded from the backseat of Steve’s car, where Robin scrambled to effortlessly scrunch her hair around.

“Here’s the perfume.” Steve pushed down the nozzle of the stolen fragrance of his mother’s collection—thanking god for the moment that she wasn’t here—where his finger spritzed numerous doses against Robin, causing the car to invade with the nauseating scent of strong, overpowering flowers.

Robin coughed. “Alright, quit it! The kid has allergies.”

“I have allergies!” Dustin sneezed.

Steve huffed in annoyance, watching as Robin unbuckled from her seat. The beaming headlights that had once reflected off the vinyl-covered walls of the trailer had been switched off for stake-out purposes, as Steve’s car parked in the open area of the Munson home in the quiet night.

“Hand over the wine, Henderson.” Buckled next to the seat of Dustin’s—for protective measures—a bottle of his parent's stolen chardonnay rested like a passenger on board; Steve’s, ever the romantic, suggestion for the authenticity of a real date.

“Is this really necessary?” Robin truly had no room to talk, she most definitely hadn’t experienced the polarizing events of the dating scene, let alone ones of heterosexual realms (thankfully).

Scoffing, Steve was galled by the dig at his—for once—knowledgeable expertise of life phenomena. “Are you kidding, chicks go for this shit.” Surely, Bridget, Heidi, Linda, and Jeanie can attest to his opinion.

“Yeah, well, Munson’s definitely not a chick… unfortunately.” She mumbled.

“Huh?” Dustin asked.

Robin was quick to shut up in a panic. “Nothing!”

“Look, just get in there, and do your thing, alright?” Whatever attempt at a pep talk this was from Steve Harrington devastatingly fell short, as the last thing Robin Buckley expected to do on her Tuesday night was go out on a date with a man, who so happened to be her best friend’s boyfriend. Thing?! What thing?! She couldn’t even stare her crush in the eye for Christ sake, Steven! Robin Buckley has no thing! And Eddie Munson unfortunately does- the repulsing (to her) kinda thing that Robin Buckley doesn’t even like! She huffed. “Just take it easy. The second Munson lets you in, we’ll sneak up to the door, and hear through there.”

On the edge of his bed, Eddie Munson let your hands wander about, until his appearance was up to your liking; voluminous hair, controlled friz, straightened shirt, and a bottle of minty mouth spray that he coughed at, but necessary for the prevention of spring roll breath. “Okay, you’re gonna be great!” You motivated him with the words of encouragement, as you brushed away his stray hairs. “You just make her think you want to have sex with her, and it’ll totally freak her out.”

Eddie straightened up, shaking his body from any jitters, and stretching as if a marathon was in place. “Okay, so how far am I exactly supposed to go with her?” His face etched with concern.

You waved him off. “Relax, alright, she’s gonna give in way before you do!” If there was anything you learned about Robin Buckley in your months of friendship, it was the blatantly obvious fact that she would shrivel up in awkwardness before anything further took place.

Eddie Munson freaked at your sudden certainty. “How do you even know?!”

“Because you’re on my team!” You stressed. “And my team always wins!”

His face scrunched with fret. “At this?!”

Tentative knocking against the front door pulled you both away from the conversation. It was game time. “Eddie,” his head whipped back to you, “you’re the Dungeon Master, okay? This, this is nothing in comparison to dark lord wizard thingies.” God, he knew for certain you didn’t fully understand his interest in Dungeons and Dragon, but the time you took to support him was making his heart beat faster than any fake date with your best friend could ever make him feel.

You make him feel such incredible things.

“You’re the master here, you’re in control, you got this!” Jesus Christ, the corny shit your competitiveness was making you say was too fucking cute. “Just go get some!” You finished him with a quick kiss that had him yearning for more, but your body quickly scurried away to the bathroom.

Eddie Munson sighed. Cracking his neck, he rolling his shoulder. “I’m the Dungeon Master. I’m in control.”

Steve clutched a heavy hand on his steering wheel, as both him and Dustin peered through the windows. “Okay, just wait for it… wait for it… wait- get down!” The boys dropped their heads the second Eddie’s front door opened with a dramatic swing.

And there she was. Eddie cocked an eyebrow for whatever reason it was Robin Buckley chose to show up overly dressed like a middle-aged woman, and with an awkward smile to taint her image. But Eddie Munson was right there to follow suit with a strange grin to greet her.

“Robin.”

“Eddie.”

“Come on in.”

“I was going to.”

As the trailer door closed shut, Steve and Dustin silently crawled their way out of the car with their utmost quietest attempts of closing the doors shut behind them. With crouched stances like detectives on duty, the pair scampered their way to the top of Eddie’s cemented stairs, where their heads pressed against the front door to hear the muffled conversation from the other side.

“I, uh, brought some wine.” Robin held up the bottle, as Eddie was slightly taken aback. What the hell kinda teenager brings wine to a date? Probably the kind who’s a lesbian, and going out with her best friend’s boyfriend out of competition. “Would you like some?”

“Oh, uh, sure.” Making their way to the kitchen, Eddie secured two cups, as Robin popped off the protruding cork top, and suddenly she felt entirely even more stupid than the fact that she was on a “date” with a man, when Eddie proffered matching Garfield and Odie mugs for glasses of chardonnay.

The dreadful silence began to take over, and Eddie could only manage to fill it with thorny chuckles, as Robin filled the mugs. “So, uh,” she sighed, “here we are. Nervous?”

“Me? No. You?” He skeptically questioned.

But Robin Buckley was there to provoke him. “No, I want this to happen.”

“So do I.” Eddie cleared his throat, before their glasses clicked with a toast, and Robin and Eddie found themselves chugging down the mug-fulls of alcohol to hopefully forget the disturbing night they were about to endure. When cups fell empty, Eddie sighed and turned to the radio that rested atop of the washing machine. “Why don’t I, uh, play some music; set the mood a little.”

Call her inexperience, whatever, but Robin knew there was no way in hell the screeching voices of Slayer attested to “setting the mood” during date night. God, she felt bad for you- for straight women. “Maybe-maybe I’ll, uh, dance for you.” She dared right back.

Where Robin could judge Eddie on his music taste, Eddie could return the favor in her lack of mobility, as her body began clumsily swaying about in his kitchen, off rhythm to the already undanceable sounds to thrashing metal. Her contorting ankles in kitten heels paired with her jutting hips allowed her to mortifyingly saunter her way over to an uncomfortable Eddie, who was wielding the willpower to not bark a laugh in her face.

But Robin Buckley was not going to win this. Not when Eddie Munson’s pride stood in the way. “Mm, you look good.” He spoke so stiffly, as he defied back with a taunting grin.

“Why, thank you.” She forced out a laugh. “Y-You know, when you say things l-like that, it makes me wanna, um, rip that… Weird Al t-shirt right off.” Jesus Christ, Dustin made him get matching ones.

“Okay,” he cleared his throat, “well, uh, why don’t we move this to the bedroom then?” His brows pointed, eyes glared.

Robin immediately stopped her bizarre dancing. “Really?” Her panic settled in.

“Oh!” Eddie quickly stepped back with an impeding smile. “Do you not want to?” He urged.

“No, no.” Robin composed herself, waving him off with faux confidence. “I just, um, you know, first, I wanna t-take off all my clothes, and have you r-rub lotion all over me.” Is that what straight people do before sex?!

Eddie’s throat constricted with little air, and a tightening hand of embarrassment. “Well, that would be nice.” His voice raised a cracking octave. “I’ll, uh, go get the lotion.” Before Robin could respond, Eddie was already running away to the bathroom. Your gnawing teeth had bitten through your nail when Eddie came bustling through the door. “Okay, this is totally getting out of hand.” He fretfully groused, as he crowded your area in the small room. “She wants me to put lotion on her!” Eddie dramatically snarled.

You rebuffed his dread. “She’s bluffing!”

Eddie huffed. “Look, she’s not backing down. Jesus, shit, she went like this!” He suddenly gyrated his stiff hips harshly against you to mimic her dancing.

A couple feet away at the front door of Eddie’s trailer, Robin was in consternation, frantically rambling to Steve and Dustin. “He is not backing down! He went to get lotion!”

“You aren’t done yet?” Dustin heaved. “You’re supposed to be on my team, he should be cracking right now!”

Her angry finger flicked against his forehead, despite his insistent cries of pain. “This is all your fault to begin with!”

“Okay, will everybody just calm down for a second?” Steve hushed, where his hands found the relaxing perch against his hips, as if his motherly duties were calling. “Think of it this way, the sooner you get Eddie to break, the sooner this can all be over with.”

“Ooh, I like that.” Robin nodded along.

“Just amp the flirting, alright?” Steve coached. “Look, it took him weeks to actually approach a girl at the bar, he used to get totally flustered whenever he’d play wingman for me. How the hell managed to get Y/N? I don’t know, but all I do know is that just like you, Eddie Munson is a total dud when it comes to flirting.”

Her mouth fell agape at the insult that stung too much from the utter reality of the statement. It didn’t make her feel any better when Dustin shoved that patronizing look in her face. “Yeah, Robin, sweetie, you are not doing a good job right now.”

“How would you know? You’re fourteen!” She bellowed.

“And yet, which one of us is in a loving, committed relationship?” The kid snided.

Steve shushed Dustin away before a catfight could break out on the doorstep of Eddie’s home. “Look, you got this. Just make Munson uncomfortable! You’re a girl, you got this!”

“He’s a boy, he makes me uncomfortable!” She spat.

Ransacking his bathroom cabinets for a bottle of lotion, you hastily shoved the bottle into his grasp, and clutched onto his shoulders. “You go back in there, and you seduce her till she cracks!” Never in a million years did you think you’d encourage your boyfriend to do that. Though with this much commitment, he should really get you into Dungeons and Dragons.

“Okay, just give me a second.” He took a deep breath for composure, just as he got a good glimpse of his bathroom. “Did you clean up in here?!” Your eyes rolled, before grappling onto the doorknob, and pushing Eddie out of the bathroom. He slowly approached the kitchen, where his nervousness eased at the sight of Robin at the door. “Oh, you’re, uh… you’re going!” He smiled.

Steve Harrington's voice replayed in her head, and Robin cleared her throat to pull out the sultry crisp she was needing to flirt. “Um, not without you, lover.”

Eddie flashed her a tight-lipped smile, as he released a big sigh. “Well, uh, come here.” He beckoned. “I’m very happy we’re gonna have all the sex.”

Robin ignored the disgust in her belly to test him. “Y-You should be.” She smirked. “I’m very bendy.” Eddie’s eyebrows pulled with fright, as she stepped closer. “I’m going to k-kiss you now.”

And Eddie bothered her right back. “Not if I, um, kiss you first!” With a foot apart, Robin Buckley made her first move on a man, as her stiff hand latched uncomfortably to Eddie’s waist. Devastatingly following in line, Eddie’s fingertips barely grazed her skin, as they lightly rested onto her shoulder, neither party urging anyone to come closer. “Well, I-I guess there’s nothing left for us to do than to kiss.”

“Here it comes.” With rigid lips tucked inward, and tense bodies hesitantly pulling together, Eddie Munson genuinely began to realize how much of a idiotic idea all this was. A nauseating feeling struck him, as he understood what a lousy world it’d be to live in if he had to continue to disguise his feelings for you. I mean, going on a date with your best friend? This is the lengths he’s going to to hide something so perfect? And Robin. For the love of god, if picturing Joan Jett over Eddie’s face was needed to make this experience slightly less miserable, then, yeah, maybe this plan was stupid all along.

“Okay, okay, okay! Fine, you win!” Eddie pulled away, as Robin’s face astounded. “I will not have sex with you!” He huffed with exhaustion.

“And why not?” Robin smiled, as the victory was coming her way.

“Because I’m in love with Y/N!”

“You’re-you’re what?” The front door jolted open, as Steve Harrington and Dustin Henderson hurdled their way in, but Eddie took no notice of the peculiarity in that. Not when he heard the bathroom door open behind him.

“Love her!” He proclaimed at the top of lungs. “That’s right! I love her!” Eddie pointed to you, as you made your way closer. “I love her! I’m in love with her!” And suddenly, the reality of you actually standing in front of him hit him, and Eddie realized the weight of what he just admitted to you… and his friends. Eddie took a deep breath, as he solemnly stared down at you, and in an instant, he felt his body calm at the sight of your smile. “I love you, Y/N.”

His hands took solace against your warm cheeks, where you stared up at with adoration in your eyes. “I love you, Eddie.” Your arms circled around his neck, as his desperate hands clung to your shirt to pull you into an intoxicating kiss that had you both mewling with tenderness. This was it. Eddie Munson knew love.

That was until Robin spoke. “Oh, my god, you guys! We thought you were just doing it, we didn’t know you were in love!” She gushed.

Steve shyly smiled from the back. “Dude!” He effused.

“Aha!” And then there was Dustin Henderson. “I told you! I told all of you! And none of you wanted to believe me! I was right and you were wrong!” He pompously smiled, before turning to you and Eddie. “By the way, I was the first to know! I’ve been knowing for a week after you freaks forced me to lose my dice!”

Eddie chuckled, as his hands stayed secured around you. “Actually, Dustin, Max was kinda the first to know. She found out four months ago, when she caught Y/N leaving my place at night.” He admitted. “Been blackmailed ever since; spent $20 on some damn heart-shaped sunglasses.”

“Are you kidding me!” Dustin felt gobsmacked, betrayed and abandoned, like those damn Fritos.

“Hey, but, uh, hats off to you, Robin.” Eddie smiled, offering a hand of congratulation. “Quite the competitor.” And she shook it proudly, another notch in whatever weird belt this was.

“I still can’t believe you never told me.” Dustin gasped. “I mean, seriously, Max out of all people.” Dustin Henderson, Steve Harrington, and Eddie Munson’s voices eventually faded into the background, as you managed to slip away from your boyfriend’s grasp to hold onto the hand of your best friend, while you whisked her away to the quiet corner of the living room.

“Hey, so I just wanted to apologize to you real quick.” You softly smiled at Robin. “I mean, going through all this just because I kept this from you,” you sighed, “I’m just really sorry you were forced to date my boyfriend.”

Robin laughed, as she squeezed your hand. “I’m sorry you’re forced to date him everyday.” She joked. “No, but seriously, you don’t have to apologize at all.” Her throat began to sting with the heftiness of her feelings, but she felt the warmth of fingers against hers, and Robin Buckley took her deep breath. “I understand why you did it- why you felt the need to hide.”

“You do?”

“Yeah.” She tearfully smiled. “I feel the same way, just a little different. I just, um, I know what it’s like to want to keep something to yourself, because having to come out as something you know the world isn’t going to love is scary. It’s really scary, Y/N.” Her hand tightened, as her voice cracked.

But in true Buckley style, that beautiful smile never left her face, as she told you her biggest fear. But what a shame it was that the world made her biggest fear her truest self. Your arms wrapped around her in a suffocating hug, where she let out a shaky sigh against your shoulder. “Robin,” you whispered into her hair, “I love you.” You implored. “Eddie does. Steve does. I hope you know that this town isn't worth being scared of.” You felt her shudder against you, as your hand soothed down her back. “Not when you’re so goddamn perfect.” Robin laughed, as she pulled away, clearing her eyes from any unspilled tears that threatened to stain her cheeks. “I know it’s easier said than done, but genuinely, don't waste your perfect self on what the world wants.” She digested your words, flashing you a thankful grin, as she steady to jumping nerves. “I mean, take it from the man himself, your date tonight, who’s univocally himself.”

You both turned to the kitchen, where Steve and Eddie had Dustin pinned, with a spring roll in hand, trying to shove it down the defiant kid’s mouth. “Jesus, I really am sorry you have to date him.”

You both laughed, as you watched the commotion take place. And you looked at Eddie Munson, how effortlessly beautiful he was, and how comfortable those around him came to be in his accepting presence. “He’s not too bad.” You smiled. “Now, c’mon, we have Chinese and chardonnay to celebrate!”

Finally letting the child go, Steve snagged the spring roll with a monumental bite of pleasure, before closely crowding into Eddie’s bubble. “No, but seriously, dude, how the hell did you do it?” Steve Harrington pointed to you, as Eddie Munson smiled.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #steve harrington #robin buckley #dustin henderson

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bookshelf-dust · 1 year

Text

healing

billy hargrove x gn!reader

word count: 5,445

warnings: swearing, smoking, mentions of past trauma (starcourt), slight sexual innuendos??

a/n: hi! remember when i made you do a poll for my 1k celebration? and one bed with billy won? well this is that fic! i'm sorry it took so long to get here, but school was kicking the ever loving shit out of me. anyways, i really hope you like it. it's a little different than other fics i've written, but i think that's a good thing. just for context, this is post the end of season three, with billy and hopper being okay and jopper being in full swing. i think that's all i wanted to say. thanks again for 1k followers. that's still so wild to me. i love you. and billy loves you too <333

————

November 1985

“No.”

“What do you mean no? You just fought an interdimensional being, don’t you want a vacation?”

Lucas wipes both hands down his face, flopping down on the arm of the couch beside where Max sits with El between her knees, tying off one of the two braids she’s trying to make.

“Max, can you help me? Please?” Lucas has been arguing about this for fifteen minutes.

She rolls her eyes, but looks up from her work nonetheless. “Billy.”

The man in question crosses his arms, locking eyes with the redhead. “Maxine.”

Max finishes Eleven’s braid and she hops up to join Will where he’s working on a puzzle. Joyce brought it home from work a few days ago, and it’s been spread out on a card table in the corner of the living room since then. Will couldn’t watch The Golden Girls with Joyce from the kitchen table.

“Just come with us, Billy. We all know you hate it here. It’ll give you a chance to get away for a little while.”

Except that’s not totally the truth. He doesn’t hate it here. Not with you around.

“There’s a pool.” Will looks up, a little shyly, from the puzzle, fingers flipping around a single piece. “At the place Robin found.”

Billy nods, and it’s enough to make Will smile at the acknowledgment.

It’d been Steve’s idea, after everything that happened in July. He thought everyone going on a trip together might be a good idea. Go a little ways out from home, calm down.

You and Billy started going to school, though Billy is still working. He found a job at a record store across the street from Melvald’s that opened after the mall went to shit. It definitely wasn’t his first choice, but it works. And he’s slowly fixing up the Camaro.

Steve had offered to pay for the repairs in full, considering he did most of the damage when he rammed the side of it, but Billy couldn’t handle that. So far Max has only convinced him to let Steve cover the really expensive parts. It hurts Billy more than he’d care to admit—having Steve Harrington give him money.

But he can’t lie, going somewhere away from Hawkins, even just for a couple days, sounds really nice. It’s the group part that’s bothering him. He’s still not used to everyone wanting him to tag along, but apparently major trauma brings people together.

There’s the slamming of car doors, and footsteps running up the driveway before the door swings open, Robin bursting in with a stack of movies in her arms. She’s followed by Dustin and then Steve, bags and keys being tossed every which way.

Billy doesn’t see you for a moment and starts to worry maybe you aren’t coming. He’s already supplying excuses for having to go home, but Steve left the door ajar, and after a moment, there you are.

You look sleepy, footsteps the quietest of everyone else as you carefully push the Byers’ door shut behind you. He watches as you accept a hug from Eleven, overhears her ask, “how did your test go?”

He’s happy to hear you tell her it went well. It’s only after you’ve looked at her and Will’s puzzle and snapped a few more corner pieces in that you make a beeline for the open spot on the couch beside Billy.

When you’ve settled, your knee bumps against his. “Hey.”

He looks at you, a little grin playing at the corners of his mouth. His arms are still crossed, thumb playing with the pendant resting on his chest. A chest surprisingly covered by a sweater, though the sleeves are pushed up.

“Hey. Glad your test is over?”

That sound of his voice makes you smile, and he’s never been so grateful for something, even if it’s just an expression. “Yeah.”

You glance down at the new tattoo on his arm, a dark colored snake wrapping around the skin covering his elbow. You run your thumb across the tail that flicks across his forearm, and Billy relaxes into your touch.

“You have work today?”

Billy shakes his head. You’re glad he had the day off. And you’d tell him so if it weren’t for the sudden bombardment.

Lucas is suddenly standing in front of you, having returned from the kitchen where you think he and Dustin may have been cleaning out Joyce’s fridge.

“Holy shit, thank god you’re here. I need you to convince Billy to go on vacation.”

You glance at Max, assuming she’s already tried. She looks rather annoyed. “Lucas, would you sit down?”

The boy looks at Max, and she glares at him. Clearly he knows better and sits down next to her.

“Billy doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to do,” you finally say.

The man in question turns to face you. You have to lean your head back some because of how close he is.

“Are you going?” he asks, voice quiet and thick with something you don’t know that you’re supposed to notice.

“Y-yeah. I was gonna. Robin only went on about it to me for an hour over the phone last night. I just think it might be nice to get away for a little while.” Billy doesn’t break eye contact with you, and while it makes you a little nervous, it tells you he’s listening.

“And I can watch Max for you if you really don’t want to go. Just make sure she doesn’t kill Lucas or anything.” Max snorts at your response, though Lucas looks at her in panic, already calculating how best to prevent that sort of situation.

Your gaze softens and you fight the urge to reach out and run your thumb across Billy’s cheek.

Please come with us. I want you to go. I want you there, you think. But it’s not what you say. You don’t know how badly he needs to hear it.

“You really don’t have to go, Billy. Not if you don’t want to.”

“But there is enough space, man.” Steve stands behind the couch, handing El a scrunchie he retrieved from her bag. His voice is calm, informative. “If you decide to go. There’s plenty of room, and we’d be happy if you did.”

Billy could make some smartass remark. But he won’t. He knows that Steve is being honest, and that he’s not trying to be a dick. It seems that witnessing the guy who beat the shit out of you almost die not even a year after he moved to town really brings you together.

Billy gives an acknowledging nod. “I’d be very happy if you did,” Eleven says. She loves having Jonathan as an older brother, really she does, but Billy lets her play with his hair. And in her books, that really ups the scale.

He smiles at her, and El considers that a win.

You notice him shift next to you, and then he’s leaning forward to whisper in your ear. “Come with me?” He cocks his head in the direction of the door.

He gets up, assuming you’ll follow him. You always do.

When you’ve shut the door, you move to the porch swing. It’s your favorite spot out here, and Joyce says it makes her happy to see someone use it. She used to sit there with Will in the mornings after Jonathan left for school and read to him. She did the same with Jonathan, but he was a much more fidgety kid, wanting to find something else to do.

Billy lights a cigarette, and you watch where he fidgets with the ring on his middle finger.

He’s standing a little ways away from you so as to not breathe the smoke directly in your vicinity, but you wish so badly that he was closer. You like having him close. The weight of his body next to you, the warmth, how solid his arm feels when it’s pressed to yours or when he slides down on the couch some and it's more so pressed to your side.

“Which part of it are you worried about?” you ask him.

He shrugs. “You really think they want me there? You think Max wants me around?” “Billy, I know she does. And I know that voice in your head is telling you that it’s a pity invite, but it’s not. And, besides…” you trail off, but he’s not having that. He needs you to reassure him.

“Besides what?”

You look up at him. “I want you to go. And yeah, I’ll be sad if you don’t go, but that shouldn’t sway your decision either.” You push your feet against the concrete porch a little harder, and the swing responds to the movement. You move quicker, now feeling very pleased with yourself.

Billy almost laughs at the child-like look on your face, but you look so at home on the swing that he holds it in. A grin escapes nonetheless.

“Say that again.” He stubs out his cigarette in the ashtray either Hopper or Joyce have left outside. He’s watching you again.

“What?” He’s not gonna let you go all shy on him now. He needed to hear that. He needs to hear it.

“You know what.”

“I want you to go.”

“Then it’s settled. Need to get out of this shithole anyways.”

————

The place Steve found is about two hours from Hawkins, with three bedrooms, a shockingly luxurious pull-out couch, and bigger common areas than you’ve ever laid eyes on. Excluding the ones in Steve’s house. In short, the rental is like Hopper’s cabin, if Hopper’s cabin were updated and substantially larger. It feels like the kind of place rich people have to take weekend trips. You’d rather not find out how much Steve is paying for the lot of you to stay there.

Robin takes you on a grand tour while everyone else explores the backyard. Dustin is already determined to climb a tree. One of the rooms has two sets of bunk beds, dedicated to the four boys. “To ensure no cootie-spreading,” Robin proclaims.

She and Steve will share the couch, with Max and Eleven in the smaller bedroom.

Robin stops at the end of the hallway. “Which leaves…”

You and Billy.

You and Billy Hargrove.

Sharing a room.

Sharing a bed.

Speaking of, the man in question brushes past you, setting his bag on the floor at the foot of the bed. Robin takes that as her queue to leave and gives you a thumbs up on the way out. You hope she can feel your death stare on the back of her head, and she knows it, being quick to run down the hall.

“So we’re roomies, huh?” Billy says, gathering his hair at the base of his neck. You hadn’t even realized he had a tie on him, and it takes him finishing off a lazy bun to realize it’s a blue scrunchie. You have to bite your lip to keep from saying anything.

“I can sleep with Max and El, if you want. Or–”

That crease between Billy’s brows forms. “Why would you do that?”

You’ve gone all warm. You’d have to sleep in bed with him. And you sit next to him all the time, but this is different. Isn’t it?

Maybe it’s not so weird. You’re just friends. It’s like a sleepover, right?

“I don’t know, you might not want to sleep together or something.”

He cocks a brow, but you catch the double meaning of your words just in time. “You know what I mean, Billy.”

He sits on the end of the bed, and reaches out for you. You move towards him slowly, but the moment you’re within his grasp, Billy spreads his legs and grabs your waist, slotting your body between them.

“You can go if you really want to. If you think I’ve got cooties or somethin’ and you don’t wanna share a bed with me.”

You snort, and Billy drinks in the sound, knowing he’s the one that made you laugh.

“I don’t think you’ve got cooties.”

You realize in that moment that his hands haven’t left their spot on your waist, never straying anywhere else. The weight of them on you is enough to keep you focused on him, and he seems to acknowledge that.

“Then what is it?” he asks, in that low drawl you fear could get out any answer he wanted from you.

You hesitate, but say it anyway. “You don’t think it’ll be weird? Sleeping in the same bed?”

Billy fights the urge to rest his forehead against your stomach. He wants to tell you he’s wished you were in his bed on more than one occasion. Sometimes he just wishes you were there so it wouldn’t feel so cold, so he’d have someone to pull him out of his thoughts before they eat him alive altogether.

“No, I don’t think it’ll be weird.”

You nod your head, and try to move back from him.

Billy whines. “Uh uh. Nope.”

You go to put your hands on your hips, and they graze Billy’s on the way. He grabs hold of them. “You don’t want to have a sleepover with me?”

Billy’s looking up at you with those watery blue eyes, and you know this is a battle you’ll never win.

“Really?”

He lets out a breath of a laugh, and your eyes fall to his neck when he tosses his head back.

“Yeah, baby.”

Baby.

It feels like every cell in your body has been sent into overdrive, like you can’t compute a single coherent thought. All because Billy called you “baby”.

And if he’s being honest with himself, he feels the same way. He hadn’t meant to say it. It’s just that he calls you “baby” in his head all the time, and it just…happened.

“I’d love to have a sleepover with you, Hargrove.”

“Mhm. Thought so.”

This time he lets the laugh out, and it’s a beautiful sound. The kind of sound you’d commit unspeakable acts to hear again. And this time, he does let his forehead drop to rest on your stomach. It surprises you, but you’re not mad about it.

“Oh, fuck off,” you say, and you can feel his chuckle against your skin.

When he quits, you find yourself just standing there, find your hands moving around his back. He’s always so warm. You rub your hands up and down his back, the denim of his jacket rough on your fingertips.

You feel him shift, feel his change in position, the hard press of his chin against you. Billy is looking up at you, and you know he’s hoping you’ll return his gaze. His eyes bore into yours, and you hate to think of what you must look like from this angle. Clearly he doesn’t mind.

You push a curl behind his ear, a shockingly perfect ringlet that’s too short to be contained like the rest of them.

Billy would be taken aback by the gesture if it weren’t for the fact that you always go this easy on him. Like you know he’s healing, in more ways than one.

“We can’t stay here forever, you know. I wanna go look around.”

“Yeah,” he laughs. “I’m sure it’s riveting.” He lets you go anyway, following you down the hall to the rest of the cabin.

————

Your back rests on the base of an oversized chair, one that’s surprisingly comfy, your body in between Robin’s legs. She’s sitting next to Steve, watching you moderate El, Lucas, and Will play Twister. Dustin’s already out.

“Right hand blue.”

“You’re kidding right?”

“Sinclair, have you never played this game before?”

Lucas scoffs, trying to reach the blue on the other side of the mat without toppling into Will. Max went with Billy to the store, but they should be back soon. You have a sick feeling they’re taking advantage of having been given Steve’s debit card.

“Yes, I’ve played the game before. If you’re so good, why don’t you get down here and show us how it’s done, Harrington?”

“Yeah, Harrington, why don’t you show us how flexible you are?” Billy’s voice makes you look up from where you’ve been mindlessly twisting the spinner on the board around with the tip of your finger.

He stands just inside the living room, holding the door open with his leg. He kicks it shut once Max has made it in. She heaves the paper bags she’d been holding up and onto the counter. Steve rises to help unpack them. You follow on instinct, handing the spinner to Robin instead, and Dustin is quick to take Steve’s spot before Mike can.

Billy won’t let you take anything from him, but he will let you help figure out what the hell to do with all of it. “Do I even want to know how much you both spent?” you ask.

He gives you that fucking smile, and you know you don’t. “Max said she wanted to have a spa night–whatever that means–with El, so we sort of split up. I’m sure Steve’ll live.”

“For your information, Lucas,” Steve continues, clearly not ready to let the quips towards his limberness go, “I was the captain of the swim team.”

“What’s that got to do with being flexible, dingus?” Robin directs the two remaining players, the young boy in question having just busted his ass.

“Swimming is an art form, Rob. You gotta learn to respect it.”

You choke on a laugh, and Billy is quick to rub your back while he chuckles into your shoulder.

“Something funny over there?” Steve questions.

You straighten, trying to wipe the smile from your face though it’s to no avail. “Nope, Steven. I’m sure you’re just incredibly stretchy. Like Mr. Fantastic.”

His brow furrows. “Mr. Fantastic?”

Dustin snorts, elbow deep in a bag of chips, and you quickly realize that you probably shouldn’t have given him an opening, but you don’t exactly regret it either.

The lot of you spend the rest of the night in this fashion, playing games, eating way too much food, taking turns smacking the top of the television so your movie will keep playing.

It feels like home. It feels safe. You wish it always felt this way.

————

You’d just finished brushing your teeth when you hear the bedroom door click shut, hear footsteps you can tell are in search of you.

You peek your head out of the bathroom and Billy grins at the sight of you in pajamas, a smear of moisturizer on your forehead you’ve yet to rub in.

He squeezes in the small room, about the same size as his at home, to join you. There’s something about this moment, the domesticity of it, that makes your heart swell. It feels like something you could get used to, getting ready for bed with him. Neither of you have to say anything, you just do your own thing, but having him be there, having his presence–it’s more than enough for you.

When you climb into bed, you try and read for a while, the sounds of Billy washing his face comforting you. You find it easy to read even when he does get in with you, the mattress sinking underneath his weight, the sheets rustling as he moves around experimentally, trying to get comfortable in a bed that isn’t his own.

You feel odd though, reading when he’s right there, so it isn’t long before you close the book and slide further into the covers with him. Billy’s quick to turn on his side, wanting to see you like this.

He watches you yank the blankets up to your chin, looking at him over a blur of fluffy white comforter. “It’s fuckin’ freezin’ in here,” you tell him.

“C’mere then.”

You burrow further into your pillow, fearing you know exactly what he’s going to suggest. “Huh?”

“You’re cold. You always whine about me being warm or somethin’ and I’m telling you to come here.”

“Billy.”

“Stop.” He lifts the covers up some, untucking you from them, and he wraps his arm around your back, tugging you into his side.

Suddenly you’re pressed against him, having slid across the sheets easier than you’d have imagined.

He’s let go of you, his arm hovering over your back. “You want me to hold you or no?”

“Yeah.”

Billy lets his arm drop against your side, his fingers splaying out over your back. He rubs his hand up and down your spine, hoping it’ll warm you up. “This okay?”

“Yes.”

He nods. You’re looking at him like he’s something special.

Billy realizes, in that moment, that that’s how you’ve always looked at him. Even before.

He also realizes that your hands are tucked under your chin and your legs are curled up and into you like you’re afraid of making any contact with him.

“You can loosen up, you know. It’s just me.”

You let out a breath of a laugh, and he can feel it against the skin of his neck.

“It’s okay, I promise. You can touch me.” Billy has this feeling that you’re afraid of hurting him. He’s sure you’ve noticed that he’s wearing a shirt to bed, something he never did before. And he thinks that you’re worried he’ll break.

“You’re sure?”

“Wouldn’t have said so otherwise.”

He watches you unfold your hands and stretch your arm over him, hooking it around his hip. You want to rub up and down his side, but you’re nervous.

It’s just me.

“Do they hurt at all?”

Your thumb skates up a little further, and you don’t have to tell him what you mean.

“Not all the time,” he says, voice low and thick with drowsiness. “At first, yeah, like hell. Now it’s just sometimes. They can feel a little tight, or just bug me. Depends, I guess.”

You nod, feeling brave enough now to slide your hand up a little further. Your touch is light, barely there. You close your eyes, trying not to think about when it happened. How he’d screamed.

He can tell when you’ve calmed down some, because your arm relaxes and you hug him a little more firmly. You scoot in a little closer, close enough that your noses would touch if you tried to make them.

“Goodnight, Billy.”

He makes the move, dragging the tip of his nose across your forehead. He kisses the top of your head, and you grin so wide you feel like a kid in a candy shop.

“Goodnight, baby.”

————

When you wake up, you almost don’t want to disturb him, but you know you should get out of bed.

Billy is sprawled out on his stomach, having separated from you at some point during the night. His tank top is rucked up from the tossing and turning of sleep, and you look away when you catch a glimpse of pink skin. It doesn’t feel like your place to look.

You wander out of the room, carefully shutting the door behind you. You make it down the hall, and find that Robin seems to be the only other one awake. You should’ve guessed. She told you once before that her body doesn’t seem to let her sleep in.

Steve is still passed out on the pull-out couch, completely covered by the blankets. The only sign of him is a tuft of messy hair against the light colored pillow case his head rests on.

Robin waves at you from her perch at the kitchen counter, a bowl of cereal in front of her. “Want some?” she whispers, pushing the box in your direction.

You fill up your own bowl, having a feeling that Robin is about to ramble.

“Sleep okay?” she asks.

“Mhm. You?”

“Fine. Though, y’know, Steve is a horrific bed hog. Seriously, he was half on top of me the whole night. I might have to bunk with Max and El.”

You laugh, and Robin takes that as her queue to ask what she’s been pondering since she woke up.

“Was it okay? Sleeping with Billy? Well, not like that. Well, I’m assuming not like that, not that there’s anything wrong with that, but I just meant like actually sleeping? Please stop me.”

You grin at her. “Please breathe, Rob.” She does, over exaggerating her inhales. “And it was fine.”

“Okay, good. I was kind of worried you’d be frustrated with my matchmaking tendencies. I just really want you two to be happy. And he seems so calm when he’s with you, and I realize I’ve just told you that I’ve been pushing you two together and I–”

You wipe milk from your chin, having almost spit out your cereal. “Robin, sweetheart, it’s okay, I promise. I know about your matchmaking tendencies. But I think we’re just friends, right?”

“Just friends, my ass.” You hadn’t even seen Steve get up, but he’s reaching for the fridge and pulling out a carton of chocolate milk. He really can’t say anything about Dustin’s eating habits when he has the exact same diet.

“Oh my god.”

“Listen, I’m just saying, there’s been something going on between you two since before the world went to shit. I don’t know why you two tiptoe around each other like it’s not obvious that you’re in love.”

“Steve!” you exclaim. “Seriously, what the hell? I’ve been up for like twenty minutes and you two are schooling me on my love life?”

“Or lack thereof,” Robin says.

“Okay, damn. You know what, I’m going back to bed.”

Steve pushes your bowl back towards you when you attempt to get up. “No, you’re not. I’m just saying, there’s no sense in avoiding this. You both clearly feel a lot for each other, and I don’t see any reason to avoid it when you could be together.”

He’s being vulnerable with you, his big brown eyes boring into yours and trying to convey how serious he’s being.

“Just think about it, okay? There’s no harm in talking about how you feel with him. And don’t say that you don’t feel anything, because that’s a goddamn lie.”

————

Billy’s had his swim trunks on all day, but he hasn’t done more than sit in the shade by the pool while everyone else makes a mess and plays ridiculous games in the water.

It’s killing him to watch you in there from time to time, swimming around or sitting in the shallow end. You told him once that swimming calms you down.

It’s not until after dinner, when everyone has moved inside for the most part, though there seems to be the plotting of a water balloon fight out front, that he’s brave enough to head for the pool.

You follow him out there, see him contemplating the water.

“Whatcha doin’?”

Billy drops the cigarette he’d been smoking, snubbing it out. “Thought about going for a swim,” he tells you.

“That sounds nice.”

“Mhm.”

“I can go back inside, if you want.”

Billy turns to face you. “No. No, I want you to stay.” He wants you to see. He can’t explain why, but he does.

“Okay.”

He takes a shaky breath, hoping you don’t catch it. You do. You always do.

“I just…wasn’t ready for everyone to see.”

“I understand, Billy.”

You know what he’s really saying. He wasn’t ready for everyone to see. But he’s ready for you to see.

“I can get in first, if that helps. And I won’t look if you don’t want me to,” you say.

“That helps, yeah. And you can look. It’s okay.”

He watches you wade in, watches the way your swimsuit changes color as you tread water.

Billy takes another deep breath, and he’s pulling his shirt off. He’s quick though, diving straight into the deep end, knowing he needs to get it over with.

When he comes up, his hair is sticking to his forehead, and he flips it out of the way, giving you a glimpse of the broad pink scar on his chest.

He meets you halfway, and you think he’s in a serious mood until he’s splashing you like a child.

“You motherfucker!”

You get him back, and he’s laughing.

Billy is laughing and he looks so pretty in the last of the day’s sunlight, beads of water sliding over his collarbones and down his arms, and you feel like you could die. Like seeing him this way is enough. You don’t need anything else.

You try to return a particularly aggressive splash, but he catches your waist, pulling you up and over his shoulder.

“Billy!”

“What?” His voice is teasing. He tosses the rest of the way over, your laughter fading out into the water.

You come up, a brilliant smile on his face. Billy’s sure if you stood close enough you’d be able to hear his heart beating.

When you’ve both gone quiet, your eyes drop to the scars on his sides, the way they stretch across his skin, mean and twisting. Some spots are darker than others, and while it hurts you to look at them, you know it must hurt him even more. But he looks just as beautiful as before, if not increasingly so.

“See something you like?” Billy says it on instinct. To hide the fact that he’s worried you don’t really like it. That maybe you think he’s gross looking. But he knows that’s all in his head. He fucking knows it.

“You’re fucking gorgeous, Billy Hargrove.”

You say it with such surety, such admiration, that he can’t even begin to doubt that you mean it.

He smiles at you. It’s boyish. You’d do anything to see a million more of them.

He moves towards you, the sky having darkened enough that the outside lights have come on, the lights in the pool too. All that remains of the sun is a slash of deep orange, though the night quickly pushes it away.

Billy’s got you backed up against the wall of the pool now. His hands find your sides.

It’s overwhelming, having him this close. You can feel his breath on your face, see the rise and fall of his chest, the freckles on his cheeks.

When he kisses you, you think your heart stops. His mouth is warm against yours, and he tastes a little like chlorine, but you don’t care. Your hands find his face, and you’re smiling so hard that he pulls away because he wants to see. You don’t let him for long though, pulling him back, wanting more. He laughs into your mouth, and your chest aches with this feeling.

Eventually you do let go, and when you hold his eye contact, he knows what you’re going to say. He needs to tell you first, though.

“I’m in love with you, you know.”

“I know,” you respond.

He tosses his head back in a laugh, and you press a sweet kiss to his throat.

“I’m in love with you too, Billy.”

“Damn right you are.”

You snort against his chest, lowering slightly to kiss his scar. His breath catches. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve you.

“About fucking time!” Steve’s shouting and Robin is yelling, and Max would be making barf sounds if she wasn’t so pleased with seeing her brother so happy.

“So much for that,” Billy says.

But you wouldn’t have it any other way.

————

“I’m regretting this, Billy.”

“Stop whining.”

Billy wraps his arms tighter around your back, pressing a kiss to your jaw in hopes that you’ll let him keep doing this.

“Get off.”

“No.”

“Get off, please.”

“Make me.”

There’s the sound of a slap, your hand having met his ass.

He raises his head from where he’d buried it in your chest, looking at you drowsily. “You just spanked me.”

And you’d do it again.

“Didn’t work, did it?”

“No. Shut up and take it.”

By that he means continue letting him lay on top of you, his entire body pressed to yours. It doesn’t matter to him that there’s an entire bed, one that’s made for two people.

You settle for playing with his hair, something he seems to enjoy, and you’d mess with him about the fact that he’s essentially purring if it weren’t for him looking so content.

He might be heavy, but having Billy Hargrove sleep on top of you isn’t exactly something you just give up.

He’s never had this before.

Hell, you’ve never had this before.

And he thinks it’s healing him. More than the salve he puts on his scars, or the physical therapy, or fixing up the Camaro.

You’re healing him. You.

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

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dearharriet · 4 months

Text

I Want Your Video; Steve Harrington x Reader 📼

summary: steve always takes care of you on a night out.

word count: 1.4K

warnings: drinking, smoking, swearing, fem!reader, fluff

a/n: inspired by a djo song with the same title. i’m such a sucker for steve <3

“I ‘ave to go t’the bathrooom,” you tell Steve, holding tight to the hot skin of his bicep. In a drunken stupor, your thumb swipes sweetly over it once, unable to resist.

His other arm, the one you’re not holding to, has your clutch tucked under it. It’s unclear if he’s being gentlemanly or if he’s monitoring your intake. He certainly didn’t take Nancy’s or Robin’s. Or Argyle’s belly bag.

“‘Kay, be safe,” Steve says, patting your elbow. He looks a touch hot, red-cheeked and a little damp around the edges. Dancing must’ve made a mess of you if he looks so disheveled from just standing and talking. You furrow your brows.

“Come with me?” Pouting, your grip slides down to take his hand, but he pulls away.

“Uh—maybe Nance or Rob should do that.”

He says it like such a request is verboten. You look back towards Nance and Robin, relentlessly moving on the dance floor.

“They won’t go with meeee—“ you whine, and then simper when he sighs in defeat.

Steve steers you toward the stairwell that leads down to the toilets. While you weave through the crowds, he stays behind you, a steadying force at your back.

The stairwell is much cooler than the bar. It’s a relief to suck in air that’s not muggy with sweat and beer. At the bottom of the dingey stairs a couple is draped over one another talking closely, and nearer to the bathroom there’s a trio of people sharing a smoke and waiting. Steve and you take up residence just next to them. The concrete wall is cooling on your hot back and it elicits a sigh.

“Having fun?” Steve asks, facing you with his arms crossed and a shoulder leant on the wall. Your clutch is shoved in his front pocket like a miniature Bible.

“Uh-huh.” You nod with exaggerated windedness. “Wish you’d dance with me, though.”

The bathroom door clicks open and a guy comes out, nodding awkwardly at all seven heads turned his way. The queue dwindles to three again—plus Steve, who is smiling at you apologetically.

“Nah, you wouldn’t wanna see me dance. I tend to intimidate people with how skilled I am.”

A laugh bubbles out of you. “Ohhh, right,” you nod. “Must be hard, having all that talent. And you’re s’busy keepin’ me sober.” You speak so fast the words slur on the way out, and Steve chuckles teasingly.

“I’m doin’ a shit job, aren’t I? You’re in a state already.” He reaches out and brushes your arm when he says this, his knuckles leaving goosebumps behind them. When he pulls his hand back he’s grown more sincere. “Who said I’m keeping you sober? I’ve let you drink all you want.”

“You let me,” you tease, “But you’re keeping my wallet. And you’ve been watching me all night.”

“Yeah, well.” He looks defensive. “Someone’s gotta have your back.”

The bathroom door opens again, and the line shrinks even more. You pick the conversation right back up.

“What ‘bout Nance and Rob? And the guys?” Turning toward Steve, your arms cross so you’re mirroring him. “They’ve all got their wallets.”

“They’ve got each other, too.” Steve playfully swings at your shoulder, and you take the hit willingly. “Who’s got you, huh, rockstar?”

A smile splits your face with glee at the nickname. You step closer and you’re about to answer—you, you’ve got me—when Steve clears his throat.

You frown, and Steve smiles, juts his chin toward the bathroom door. It’s empty, you realize, and Steve and you are alone. It seems the third member of the bathroom trio was only company, like Steve.

“You know what to do,” Steve mutters, and you reluctantly peel away from the wall.

“Oh, wait!” You whip around and offer a hand out for your wallet. Steve gives it over wordlessly, and then you’re locking the door behind you.

As suspected, you look a mess. Your hair is frizzed and a touch tangled. Dark mauve eyeliner has smoked itself out—all over your undereye—and your cheeks are red and dampened with sweat.

Despite it all, you feel good. You brought your clutch so you could touch up your lipstick, and you do, but you don’t need to. It’s almost like what Steve said; You’re a rockstar. You look like one, anyway.

After washing your hands, the only thing you do to your appearance is fluff your hair up even more, playing up this smudged version of your original look.

It feels impossibly easy to grin at Steve once you emerge from the bathroom. Steve laughs.

“Why do I feel like you got more drunk while you were in there?”

You tighten your smile primly. “Not drunker, just better looking.”

Steve pulls his brows together almost painfully, his features unreadable. You saunter over to him anyways, stepping into his bubble. His full back is pressed to the wall now, a leg kicked up, and you’re as close as you can get without being thigh-to-knee. Steve’s nervous eyes scan you.

“Want me to take that?” Steve points to your clutch. You nod, but ignore the hand he has waiting for you. Feeling bold, you reach around him and tuck it into his back pocket. Your chests meet, and then crush closer as you both gasp. Pulling away feels suddenly impossible, so you don't, and Steve doesn’t make you. He licks his lips.

“Y’didn’t lock the door,” he mumbles, but your brain jumbles as his hand smooths over your ribs.

“Hmm?” You can’t be bothered with words, feeling more intoxicated by his touch than the three drinks in your system.

Steve rubs a small circle over your side. “The bathroom door,” he says softly, “it stayed on vacant the whole time.”

Oh, yeah. It had. Your mouth pops open, and then you shoot him a wry grin.

“Whoops.”

Steve’s responding head shake is exasperated but fond.

“You trust me too much,” he sighs.

It’s not a joke. A string of insecurity holds the sentence together, and you know what it is. It’s easy to see that he knows, too. Moving closer, committing to the embrace you’ve found yourself in, you pin Steve with a sincere stare.

“Do I?” It’s excessively rhetorical, stilling any rebuttal he has. Steve purses his lips together, and then glances at yours. You toe up ever so slightly, in anticipation. Both of Steve’s hands are on you now, though they’re holding your arms, keeping you at bay.

“We can’t,” Steve whispers, glancing at the stairwell, and you realize the bar is still upstairs with all of your friends. They’d probably come looking soon, vying for another round, another dance. You look to the stairwell too, and then to the other side of the hall, and back to Steve.

“Yet here we are.” The murmur is sultry, luring Steve closer, tempting his hand to wind into the soft hair at the nape of your neck.

“Here we are,” Steve repeats, and then your lips are abruptly too occupied by his to respond.

Steve’s hand that’s not gripping your neck winds over your shoulders, keeping you close. His nose crushes to your cheek as he drags his mouth over yours again and again.

A part of you—the same part that’s observing how good of a kisser he is—can’t believe you’re mouth to mouth with the Steve Harrington from high school. The other half, probably the truer half, knows it’s been a long time coming. Years of patching up and skirting around each other, protecting each other because you had to, and now taking care of each other because you wanted to. Because no one else would.

When you separate, you’re both breathless and effervescent. Steve is staring at you like you hung the moon.

“You’re so beautiful,” he coos, his thumb caressing the rosy apple of your cheek. Steve has a way of marrying sincerity and charm, and it needles at your heart ruthlessly.

You beam and kiss him again as a thank you.

“Think you might be glowing,” he continues, speaking right into your mouth. His teeth clack against yours as the kiss grows too smiley for its own good.

“You look pretty, too,” you goad, tracing his lips. “Cherry’s a good look on you.”

Steve pinches his brow and then notices your smeared lipstick.

“Aw, come on.”

You laugh and help him wipe it off, but when you return to the bar later, Argyle still complements Steve’s beautiful makeup.

thank you for reading ! my requests are open :)

masterlist

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve Harrington x you #steve Harrington imagine #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x y/n fluff #steve harrington x fem #Steve Harrington x reader fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve the hair harrington #stranger things #argyle #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #king steve

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specialagentlokitty · 11 months

Text

Buck x reader - my shield

A Buck (911) shy reader please? His friends thinks Buck is making things up that he has a girlfriend or shy reader picked her best friend to be they godfather of their newborn son who’s a mama boi. Then Buck thought it’s a good idea bringing his friend to the hospital to see his family - Anon💜

Buck smiled down at his phone as he saw the message notification from you, and he opened the text.

“What’s got you so happy?” Eddie asked.

Everyone looked up from where they were sat over to the young firefighter.

“My girlfriend messaged me.” Buck beamed.

“We’re still going on about that? Really?” Chim laughed.

Buck furrowed his brows a little bit.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, we know you, you’ve probably slept with more women then everyone here combined. No offence.” Hen said.

Buck put his phone into his pocket.

“I’m capable of having a girlfriend!”

“We’re not saying that! We’re just saying it’s not likely.” Chin snickered.

Buck stormed away, and when his shift ended he immediately went to your apartment and knocked on the door.

It didn’t take long for you to answer, and one looked at him and you had your arms around him.

Buck hugged you tightly, burying his face into your shoulder as he let out a deep sigh.

You placed your hand on the back of his head and just held him for a few minutes in silence, standing out in the hallway of the apartment complex.

“What’s wrong…?” You whispered.

You pulled away and slowly dragged him into your apartment and closed the door, leading him over to the couch.

Sitting him down, you sat cross legged next to him, taking his hands in yours as you gazed at him.

“I’m.. im so fed up of everyone saying I don’t have a girlfriend!” He exclaimed.

You furrowed your brows a little bit.

“They think because I was a dick when I first joined I still am. But I’ve been trying to tell them for months I’m not like that anymore…” he mumbled.

You gave Bucks hands a small squeeze and smiled softly at him.

“I know you’re not Evan.”

He sighed softly.

“It’s just frustrating you know… I want them to believe me…”

You nodded your head in understanding.

“Well, they’re doing that BBQ tomorrow… right?”

Buck nodded his head and looked up at you.

“I’ll come with you.”

“You don’t like things like that.”

“No. But you do, and then they can see you’re telling the truth.”

You smiled sweetly up at him, and Buck smiled back, leaning down to capture you in a soft kiss before he pulled away.

“You’re amazing…”

He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into him, cuddling you while you guys just watched some crappy films.

When the next day rolled around, you both got ready to go to the station for the BBQ.

It was his day off, but he said he’d go anyways, and since he was going you wanted to go with him to show everyone he wasn’t lying and you were real.

But as you guys drove there, you were nervous. You couldn’t stop fidgeting and when Buck pulled his car into a spot, he stopped and reached over, taking your hand in his.

“You don’t have to do this you know that right?”

He looked at you in concern and you smiled at him, nodding your head.

“I know. But I.. I want to.”

Buck smiled and nodded his head and you both got out of the car, and he took your hand in his, letting you hide yourself behind him slightly.

He smiled down at you.

“When you’re ready to go we’ll go.” He said softly.

“Thank you…”

He led you around the front of the building and you saw a group of people all laughing and talking.

“And he finally shows up!”

“Shut it Chim.” Buck snapped.

You squeeze his hand and he sighed, giving you an apologetic look.

“And he’s brought company, who’s this?” Bobby smiled.

“Guys, this is (Y/N). My girlfriend.”

You gave them a shy wave and all they could do was stare in shock as they looked at you.

You were so different from Buck, shy, quiet, but they could only smile warmly at the sight of you using him as your shield

#911 fox x you #911 fanfic #911 x reader #911 fic #911 fox x reader #911 fox imagine #911 fandom #evan buckley x reader #evan buck buckely #evan buckley x y/n #evan buckley #evan buckley x you #buck #buck x reader #buck x you #Buck imagine

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hart269 · 2 years

Text

Steve : You know that can kill you right??

Y/N : *smoking* That's the point

Eddie : *doing drugs* We are trying to speed this up

Robin : *eating a raw cookie dough* Welcoming sweet death

#stranger things #stranger things incorrect quotes #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x gn reader #stranger things x you #stranger things x oc #robin buckley #robin buckley x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader

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mvltisstuff · 10 months

Note

hi hi

idk if you’re accepting requests but if you are pls could i request an evan buckley where he has a gf/wife and a baby but the 118 doesn’t know, and maybe one day reader/kid is injured and they either turn up at the fire house or the 118 is called to the scene and buck has to come clean about his secret wife/gf and kid?

thank you bestie, i love your writing <3

lover - e.b

summary: request

evan buckley x reader

gif from @eddiemunsens

a/n: what tswift album do u guys think the 118 are 🤭 also what happens to yn is inspired by an episode of s19 that i love sm it’s so funny :))

buck knew the second y/n got pregnant that he wasn’t leaving. two years of dating is a short time to have a child, but they loved each other more than anyone. they knew they could give a child a good life, so they went with it.

all three of them moved to la, so buck could work with the LAFD and y/n could get to a higher position at work. their life there was immaculate. their little family was thriving, so buck put a ring on her finger. he didn’t even hesitate to buy the biggest one he saw, because he loved y/n the second he met her, and he emotionally couldn’t wait anymore. the words husband and wife rang in his ears, making him drop a dumbfounded grin.

no one at work knew, he didn’t really know what they thought of him. his team knew he was too fine to not have anyone, so they figured he was just with some girls here and there. the last thing they expected was a child and a fiancé along with it. it never came up in conversation, but buck still didn’t bother. he didn’t want to face any judgement from people that he didn’t already get from his family. the constant scrutiny about his age and his girl was exhausting.

now, neither of them would’ve changed it for the world. buck can’t imagine himself happier or in a life without them. it hurts him to even consider what would happen if y/n and his little boy weren’t there. he always gazed at them playing, sometimes just wanting to observe their brilliance.

buck knew he would have to explain to his team that he’s married, and that doesn’t mean he’s ashamed. he wants the world to know, but he doesn’t want y/n to be hurt by opinions from other people. he didn’t realize how soon he would have to until the alarm rang and until dispatch came through with the address. it was their house. the house where buck and y/n raised their son and the one where either could be hurt. every single scenario waved over buck, making him panic more by the second.

“you good, kid?” bobby asks, taking note of his bouncing knee.

“uh.. yeah! yeah, i’m fine,” he lies. buck hasn’t been with them for more than a year, so they just pass it along, not knowing any better. buck climbs out of the truck, grabbing a few tools before sprinting toward the house. now, the teams more alarmed. what is it about this house is making him act like a maniac?

“y/n?” buck calls out, running around trying to find her.

“kitchen!” she yells out, sounded distressed which only makes buck move even quicker. when he walks in, he immediately notices her leaning over the sink, her hand in the disposal. bobby and the rest of his crew walk in behind him, the four of them standing in the kitchen staring at her. “well?”

“oh-“ bobby moves, starting to gather some more tools out of his bag.

“what the hell happened?”

“i dropped my ring down, and i was trying to make him lunch,” she nods to the baby, sitting on the floor happily, clearly having no idea what’s happening. “i don’t even know why i tried to grab it, like some idiot!”

“hey,” buck says, walking over to her and placing a hand on her shoulder. “you’ll be fine, y/s/n is fine, yeah?” she looks up at him and nods, brushing her hair with her free hand.

“should we know the kids name too?” chim asks, giving buck a completely bamboozled expression. y/n passes buck the same face as hen walks over to check her hand. buck can’t get around it this time, and he wants them to know for once.

“um, guys,” he starts. “this is my fiancé, y/n and my son.”

“your what?” hen shouts, peeking her head out from behind y/n’s shoulder. she gives hen an awkward smile and buck stands there stiffly, worried about their reaction. everyone looks around at each other in shock that buck has his own family, and they didn’t even know.

“why didn’t you tell us?” bobby wonders.

“because i didn’t know how you’d react! i’ve heard it all from my parents, i didn’t need any more.”

“buck, we would’ve welcomed you no matter what your home life is. we’d love to get to know you and your family despite how it might’ve happened,” hen tells him, kindly. buck is confronted with immediate love, something he’s not to familiar with other than when his shifts end and he’s in y/n’s arms again. he’s surprised to say the least. he expected at lease some judgement, but there was nothing of the sort in the room.

“i’m thrilled you’re all having a nice moment here,” y/n interrupts. “but can we maybe get my hand out of my sink?”

buck and bobby pull the cabinets open and start drilling at the pipes underneath. buck secures the ring in his fingers before beaming up at y/n, showing her that he found it. “i got it!” he replies excitedly. “thank god, i don’t know if i have insurance for this thing. cost me my left leg,” he whispers to bobby. once they fully disconnect the system, hen slowly drags her bloody hand out and wraps it up. she hisses at the contact of the gauze and antiseptics. chimney starts to clean up the rest of the supplies, as hen treats the wound.

“so,” chimney begins. “when’s the wedding?”

“time and place, chim,” hen tells him. “time and place. but, yeah, are we invited?”

“yes,” buck says, obviously. “you’re invited.” he moves over to scoop his baby off the ground, carrying him over to his friends. they all speak to him in their little baby voices, and y/n watches with a shining smile on her face. buck knows he did the right thing, but he wishes he didn’t wait as long. now, he is certain that he has two solid families.

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huntingingoodwill · 2 years

Text

take me, so breathless (we could be reckless) (s.h)

masterlist

pairing: steve harrington x reader

desc: "let's get married." late night, whispered proposals, steve’s dream of having six daughters and general sappiness

a/n: based off the let's get married cover by mitski <3 it’s so pretty give it a listen or be lame forever!!

“You know,” Steve’s voice was barely a whisper, and lying next to him, you could feel it rumble in his chest, husky with sleep. “Fighting monsters, and nearly dying… it makes you wanna do the things you’ve always wanted to do. Before it’s too late.” He found your hand in the darkness, pressing the calloused pads of his fingers to yours before lacing them together, his fingers slotting perfectly in the spaces between yours.

He felt your cheek twitch against his bicep as you smiled into the crook of his arm. His tan skin glowed a shade of deep blue as twilight crept in through the window. You had been up with him all night, the room silent except for the hushed breathing of those sleeping around you, and the rasp of your exchanged whispers.

“You’ve been fighting monsters?” Your finger reached up to ghost the raw, red line slashed across his freckled-sprayed neck, Adam’s apple bobbing beneath your touch. “I haven’t noticed.”

His lips turned upward, a sweet, lop-sided smile, dimple furrowing into his cheek.

“Let’s get married.” He whispered.

Your heartbeat kicked into life, thrumming hard in your chest as you blinked up at him through wide eyes, a warmth spreading across your neck. You propped your arm up on the sleeping bag, looking back down at him, equally excited, shocked and wondrous. His smile grew bigger.

“What?”

“Let’s do it.” He grinned, mirroring your position as he pushed himself up on his forearm, thumb running over the uneven ridges of your knuckles. “Let’s get married.”

“You move pretty fast, y’know.” Your smile grew, an uncontrollable, dumb grin. You were completely happy. “We’ve only been dating for, what-”

“Five months, twenty-one days.” The response rolled off his tongue, immediate and exact. “But who’s counting?” He scoffed, waving an arm around nonchalantly, a giggle escaping your lips. “I’ve always wanted to get married.” He said, expression softening, his gentle eyes peering into yours. “I’ve always wanted to marry you. I think… I just knew. As soon as I met you. Plus, with everything going on, if anything happens to me-”

“Don’t say that.” You interrupted, the idea of losing him too awful to even entertain.

“If anything happens to me,” He continued, slowly, “I want to know I did what I’ve always wanted to do. I want to know I married the person I love.” His fingers drummed against your arm, a little nervously. “What do you say?”

“I’d love to.” A buzz of excitement sizzling through you, your fingers flexing subconsciously, shaking a little with exhilaration. You smiled so hard your cheeks hurt. “I suppose I’m a little shocked.” You let out a breathy laugh. “It’s just so sudden, and, well… you know people usually have… proper adult conversations before making a big decision like this.” You chuckled, stumbling over your words.

“Okay. Let’s have a proper adult conversation, then.” He said, sitting up, poking fun at your clunky phrasing. He rolled out his sore shoulders, as if preparing himself for an onslaught of serious questioning. You couldn’t help but laugh as he tamped his smile down, morphing his face into his most serious expression. “What do we need to discuss?”

“Well, when will the wedding be?”

“What time does town hall open tomorrow?” He replied instantly, glancing at the watch around his wrist. You dissolved into laughter at his eagerness, running a finger gently across the cool glass of the watch.

“I don’t have anything to wear.” Your eyebrows furrowed.

“Wear that white dress I like. I have a suit.” He said decisively, running a thumb across your brow as if smoothing out the skin.

“Your parents will kill you.” You whispered dejectedly, the excitement you felt faltering as you grew still with worry.

“Who cares about them!” He exclaimed, almost a little too loudly. You couldn’t help but laugh at his dramatic outburst, peeking around your shoulder to check that your friends were still fast asleep. The sound of Robin’s soft snores reassured you. “They don’t need to know.” He mumbled. “Hey, I mean, it sounds cliche, but they don’t know about love. Not the way we do. They wouldn’t get it. So why bother about them?” The smile faded from his face, big, brown eyes trained on you. “We won’t end up like them.” He whispered, shaking his head softly. His voice was determined.

“We won’t end up like them.” You repeated, just as sure, tucking a loose curl that had fallen over his forehead back into place. He smiled, grabbing your hand and planting a kiss under your knuckle, nibbling at it a little to make you squeal as you drew your hand back in.

“Any other questions?” He laughed, fiddling with your fingers.

“Hm…God, what else would serious, proper adults discuss…” You pondered. “Oh! Do you want kids, eventually?

“Yes.”

“How many?”

“Six.”

“Six?!” You choked, him gesturing for you to quiet down at risk of waking the rest up. “Six?!”

“Six.” He repeated decisively.

“How many boys, how many girls?”

“All girls.”

“All girls?” You giggled, raising an eyebrow.

“Shush. Don’t laugh.” He whispered, barely able to hold back his smile as he saw one form on your face. “Six kids. All girls. Travelling the world together. With you too, of course. So. What do you say? Tomorrow, as soon as town hall opens, in that dress I like?”

“One kid.” You bargained, smiling.

“Five.”

“Three.”

“Deal.” He smiled. “I didn’t like being an only child. It was lonely for me.”

“They’ll never be lonely. Not with us.” You muttered, lips lifting upward as you looked at him, your Steve. “Yeah. Let’s get married.”

He grinned, eyes crinkling in the corners in that sweet way that you loved, and you reached out to touch his cheek, the smooth surface dotted with freckles, warm to the touch as he blushed.

He leaned forward and kissed you as you cupped the nape of his neck gently, his soft hair brushing your hand as you felt his lips against yours, pink and soft. You felt heady, a gooey warmth building in your stomach as you smiled into the kiss. You were dizzy, dizzy with happiness.

You fell back into his arms, both of you glancing up at the window above you as the first golden rays of sunlight blended into the blue, daylight reaching into the room, brushing its beams across his sun kissed skin. His lashes, thick and dark, fluttered against the light before adjusting, looking at you, his eyes glowing in the light, hues of whiskey and honey.

“Are you crying?” You laughed, using your thumb to wick away a tear, glittering in the sun, rolling out from the corner of his eye.

“I’m just happy. Really happy.” He whispered. “Hey, you’re crying too!” He laughed, poking you in the side.

“Shut up.” You sniffled, smiling through your tears as you punched him in the arm. “Can’t believe I’m marrying a wuss.” You pouted, ducking your face away from him, tears of joy dropping gently onto his bare arm.

“Me too.” He joked. He tugged you closer to him, hand running up and down your back. The weight of his chin rested on the top of your head.

“I love you, Harrington.” You whispered.

“I love you too, Mrs. Harrington.”

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ashwhowrites · 4 months

Text

Wrong locker part 2

Part 1

From the bottom of my heart, I want to thank everyone for the love wrong locker got 🫶🏻 it was an original idea and it means the world so many of you loved it. So as promised, here is your Christmas present. A very happy ending and I hope you guys all love it and it was worth the wait.

Robin hasn't spoken to Y/N since she returned her jacket. Which was weeks ago. She knew she shouldn't care and that she shouldn't be disappointed, but she did.

She went from wondering if Vickie was the wrong choice to knowing she was. Turns out, Vickie and Robin only had band and were into girls in common. Their conversations were boring and died out within seconds. The relationship was nothing like Robin wanted or thought it would be like. She always compared everything to how it was with Y/N. And nothing matched it.

~~~

"Are you sure you're happy in your relationship?" Steve asked, he clicked on the computer as Robin sat on the counter next to him. She ignored as customers walked by.

"I think it's time I admit that I'm miserable." Robin answered, "Vickie and I have nothing in common. We barely go on dates because it's so awkward. We only hang out during school. It's just nothing like..." Robin trailed off when she realized what she was about to admit.

"Y/N?" Steve answered for her. He could see it. There was a different look in Robin's eyes when Y/N was in her life. Steve noticed it was gone once they broke it off.

"I think you fell for Y/N over those dates and calls. And that's okay, Robin. It's okay to fall for someone different. You had this picture painted of what you thought Vickie would be like. You had this vision and the vision was better than the reality. Y/N was the opposite. You never painted a picture with her and you never had expectations of her. You fell for her because you weren't trying to. That's when it's most real."

Robin couldn't help but let Steve's words sink in.

"You're right. Now what the hell do I do?"

"Break up with Vickie. And the rest..that's all up to you."

~~~

Robin held her breath as she walked into the small bar, the bar Y/N brought her for their first date....now that Robin can admit it was.

She scanned the bar, her eyes looking for someone in particular. She heard the clinks of the pool balls, she turned her head and there she was. Y/N had her arms wrapped around a girl. She was shorter than Y/N, she had brown hair and blue eyes. Robin couldn't help but feel like she was watching a flashback. But she wasn't. She was front-row seat as she watched Y/N move on.

Robin wanted to ignore the painful feeling in her stomach. And the feeling that she was going to throw up her lunch. She felt jealousy wash over her bare arms, and goosebumps formed as she shivered. Robin almost felt stupid for showing up, for thinking that there was a possibility Y/N would be torn apart the way Robin felt. She dashed towards the bar when she saw Y/N look over, she clenched her eyes shut as she prayed she wasn't seen.

Of course, Robin didn't have that luck. Y/N and the girl walked over to the bar, hand in hand. Robin swallowed the lump in her throat as the girl ordered a drink. Her voice sounded squeaky and it rang in Robin's ears.

Robin heard them talk then the girl walked off in the direction of the bathroom. Robin tried to hype herself up, she came here to see Y/N and this was her chance.

Just say hi, be nice and maybe she'll be nice back

"Pool trick your move with all the girls?"

Robin gasped at her own words, her hand slammed over her mouth as she clenched her eyes in embarrassment. She thought it but she didn't mean to say it. So much for hoping Y/N would be nice.

"Just the ones I wanna take home. What's it to you?" Y/N said, her tone was annoyed and rough. Robin wanted to shrink in her seat as Y/N didn't even turn her head to talk to her. She stared after the bathroom as she slammed a shot.

Robin felt her stomach turn at the thought of Y/N taking home a random girl. Not that she had the place to be upset about it. She single-handedly ruined whatever relationship that could have been.

"Where's Vickie?" Y/N couldn't help but ask. Y/N used to never have any hard feelings towards the redhead but now she couldn't help but hate her. Envy her. She never felt insecure within herself, but now all she wanted to do was be Vickie.

"I broke up with her," Robin said with a shrug, she kept her eyes on Y/N, wishing in her head that she'd turn to look back at her.

"Why would you do that?" This time she finally turned to look at Robin.

"I realized I was only happy with the idea of her. We didn't have anything in common, and we didn't click. I didn't feel....didn't feel the way I felt with you." Robin admitted, her eyes soft and genuine as she looked into Y/N's. She could see the conflict flicking through Y/N's eyes, the words taking effect on her as her mouth pouted.

"Do you know how much of an idiot I look like? I let my guard down because I liked you, and you took advantage of that. The only two things you felt with me were the anxiety of telling me the truth and the excitement of making her jealous, so screw you. You wanted her and you got her, that's where our time in the sun was done. I don't want anything to do with you." Y/N spat, not waiting for her girl to come out of the restroom as she marched right out the door.

~~~

Robin left Y/N alone after that night. It killed her and it hurt, but she didn't want Y/N to hate her even more. She felt guilty that Y/N knew about how excited she felt making Vickie jealous. Robin wished she thought everything through. She should have come clean right away, and maybe she could have still agreed to the date. She shouldn't have been stuck on Vickie and ignored all the possibilities around her.

Even though they didn't talk, Robin always looked for Y/N in the halls. Sometimes she felt a small shimmer of hope when Y/N stared back, for a few solid seconds before she shook her head and looked away. Robin hoped that there was a small part of Y/N that kept those feelings she felt for Robin months ago.

Robin entered a new level of hell when Y/N began to date a cheerleader. They were the perfect couple. Y/N was the captain of the volleyball team and her perfect, rich, pink, and giggly girlfriend, Blane, was on the cheerleading team. This meant Robin had to watch Blane cheer for Y/N, run to her after the game, and smash her perfect pink lips right on Y/N. It made Robin sick. It made her want to cry, vomit, and commit murder all at the same time. But also made Robin realize Y/N was long gone. She already did the upgrade, from band geek girlfriend to cheerleader girlfriend. There wasn't a chance in this hell that Y/N would run back to the band geek.

~~~

It was Y/N's birthday, and Blane invited everyone to celebrate weeks ago. Robin was surprised when she got the invite. She was surprised to hear Blane's voice on the other end inviting her directly. Robin figured it was a surprise party as Y/N didn't say a word about it when they passed in the halls.

But Robin wasn't going to waste the opportunity she had to see Y/N again. Robin spent the whole week perfecting Y/N's gift. She knew she had a lot of apologizing and work to do, and she hoped this showed how much of an effort she truly planned to make. But the gift also could cause issues with Blane, and honestly? Robin was ready to knock the bitch down a peg or two.

Robin even cracked and begged Nancy for help. Robin needed to dress to impress, and Nancy was the girl with all the confidence.....and clothes. Nancy knew who Robin was and stayed close to her wild style. A simple black dress that Robin covered with a dark jean jacket and sneakers. Nancy added a tiny bit of makeup to Robin's eyes, and a nice pink gloss to her lips.

Robin held her present in a tight grip as she walked into the party. Even though Robin rushed to get ready, she still arrived late. Half the party was already drunk and wobbling around. Robin set down her gift on a table that seemed to be the gift table.

She walked around, hoping to catch sight of Y/N. But she did find Blane at the drink table. Robin walked over, grabbed a drink, and took a deep breath.

"Thanks for inviting me!" Robin said a fake smile on her face.

"Of course! I honestly don't know half the people here. I called everyone that Y/N had their number written down and saved. Figured that's where the important people are. So hey! If you're here, you must be a great friend." Blane slurred, her hand patting Robin on the shoulder.

Robin was barely a friend, and she didn't want to be a friend. But she wasn't going to admit that to Y/N's girlfriend.

"So, how did you and Y/N get together?" The curiosity has been killing Robin. But the answer might finish her off.

"Hooked up at a party, nothing very romantic. We haven't been together long, feels more like a good fuck, you know? She's so confident and rough. I was too insecure about competition, and I knew no one go for her because they were too scared. So I figured hey! Who's gonna take her from me? No one. I can get great orgasms, sleep off with other people, and not have to worry about her attention leaving me." Blane shrugged, her drunk words filled Robin with more rage than she ever felt.

"That's a bit bitchy don't you think? The girl has feelings." Robin argued.

"Y/N? Feelings? No, that girl likes sex and that's all. I don't think she's capable of having feelings." Blane scoffed.

"Maybe not for you," Robin said under her breath, but not quite enough.

"Excuse me? If she would have feelings for someone, it would be me. Look at me." Blane said, and Robin couldn't help but look. Blane was easily gorgeous and it was easy to fall in love with her based on looks. Her personality immediately killed it.

"Open relationship then?" Robin asked, trying to change the subject of how perfect Blane was. Robin felt even more insecure as she tugged on her dress.

"Oh no. Y/N is way too loyal for that, even if it's just sex. But me? What she doesn't know what hurt her." Blane said, Robin, couldn't believe how she said these things without a moment of guilt.

"You're unbelievable. Y/N deserves better." Robin scoffed, she grabbed her drink and prepared to leave.

"Wait a second," Blane said, she grabbed Robin's arm and turned her around. Blane studied her face, her face sobering up a tad. "I knew you looked familiar. You're the girl in the frame! In Y/N's room! The girl wearing the jacket at the arcade."

Robin couldn't help but smile at the fact that Y/N kept a framed picture of her. Her cheeks flamed red and her heart raced.

"Now it all makes sense." Blane laughed, "You want her back, don't you? Seeking out the girlfriend to get the details you needed before you made the move." Blane said, shoving Robin.

"Hey! I didn't seek out details, you were saying it all on your own." Robin defended herself. "I do want her back. And it seems like you barely care about her so why don't we just call a truce? You can get great sex somewhere else, and Y/N can be with someone who cares about her." Robin thought her words were nice. But apparently, Blane thought differently. Robin felt a sticky liquid poured over her head.

A crowd formed around them as everyone gasped. Robin bit her lip as she wiped the liquid out of her eyes.

"Pathetic. Do you think she'll run back to you? You're nothing. You sit on the sidelines in everyone's life, including hers. Go back to the bench where you belong." Blane said, she turned around and her ponytail flipped in Robin's face.

Robin couldn't help herself. She was filled with rage and insecurity. She already knew getting Y/N back was a lost chance. She knew she was a side character in everyone's life, but to hear it said to her face by the bitch of high school. She wasn't taking it. And in a way, Robin wanted to fight for Y/N, what's better than taking down their girlfriend?

Robin grabbed her ponytail and yanked her backward. Blane let out a high-pitched scream as she tried to get Robin's grip off of her. Robin let go but tackled Blane to the ground.

"FIGHT! IT'S A GIRL FIGHT!" some drunk asshole screamed. He was filled with way too much excitement.

Robin and Blane rolled around on the floor, barely hitting each other but still fighting to be on top.

"OFF!" Robin heard someone scream and arms wrapped around her waist. She felt herself being easily lifted into the air. Robin trashed as the person began to bring her outside.

"LET ME GO. I SWEAR I'LL CALL THE COPS!" she threatened.....or Steve.

"That would backfire on you, sweetheart," Y/N said as she let Robin go. Robin stood on her feet and turned around to see Y/N there with a pissed-off expression. Robin clenched her thighs as she took her in. She wore tight blue jeans, a white tank top with layered necklaces, the bottom one resting perfectly on her chest, and a black belt with chains looped through.

"What the fuck is your problem?" Y/N snapped Robin out of her thoughts.

"You didn't hear what she said about you?" Robin argued, her hands gesturing to the house, where Blane probably sat crying.

"Why would you care?" Y/N asked, her arms crossed as she tried to conceal her anger.

"DO YOU PAY ATTENTION TO ANYTHING?" Robin screamed, she felt like she was constantly telling Y/N how she felt, and Y/N just ignored it.

"I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU WANT FROM ME, I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU WANT AT ALL! WE TALKED AND DECLARED IT WAS OVER. WHAT ELSE DO YOU WANT?" Y/N screamed back. She wanted to tug her hair out. She couldn't stand the sad puppy eyes Robin gave her. She hated feeling pittied and she hated Robin felt so guilty that she wanted to make it up to her. Y/N wasn't supposed to be hurt.

"I WANT YOU! ISN'T THAT CLEAR?" Robin screamed as she stomped her foot in the grass. "I DIDN'T GO TO THE BAR THAT NIGHT JUST TO ADMIT MY MISTAKE!! IT WAS TO ADMIT TO YOU THAT I CAN'T GET YOU OUT OF MY HEAD...."Robin took a deep breath, "it was to admit that I love you and I want a chance to be with you again. This time with no fear, no anxiety, and no afraid to feel things for you. Because it's not a bad thing. Getting to be with you, was beautiful and it was joyful. You were happy, and you can't tell me you weren't."

"Robin," Y/N sighed as she ran her hands over her face. "It wasn't even real. I was happy because I thought it was something real. I thought I could be loved, don't you get that? How can I just believe you now? What if you don't even love me, you just loved the feeling of being with me."

Robin didn't know Y/N felt so much insecurity. And she felt even worse for playing with her emotions.

Robin walked over to her, not wasting a second before she smashed her lips on Y/N's. Robin felt a zoo of butterflies fluttering around in her stomach as Y/N kissed her back. Robin's hands wrapped around Y/N's shoulders, and Robin shivered as Y/N's hands wrapped around her waist. She gripped Robin's dress and kissed her deeper. Robin melted under her control, submitting herself to be under her power. Y/N's warm tongue touched Robin's as they kissed. Y/N tasted like beer and gum, somehow a taste Robin needed more and more of.

They pulled back when they needed air, but Robin kept her hands on Y/N, hoping it would keep the girl in place.

"I love you, and I love the feeling I feel with you. I love both, and I can't love one without the other. Vickie was a mistake, and I'm sorry I had to learn that while hurting you. I know I want you and I know I want us. Please let me show you that?" Robin begged, her forehead pressed against Y/N's as she closed her eyes. In case she said no, at least Robin could soak in the last few moments.

It was silent and Robin grew more nervous. She cracked open one eye to see Y/N staring at her with a smile.

"Can I admit I love you with both your eyes open?" Y/N giggled, and Robin never thought she'd hear that.

Robin opened her eyes immediately, a dopey smile on her face as she watched Y/N's mouth move.

"I love you and I'll give you the chance. Just don't make me regret it!" Y/N threatened, a finger pointed right at Robin but a teasing smile covered Y/N's face.

"Deal," Robin said, pressing her lips against Y/N's again.

"Kicked her ass." Y/N laughed against Robin's lips, not caring how sticky Robin's whole face was.

"She deserved it." Robin shrugged, happily attaching their lips again.

~~~

A box of a tiny locker rested in the gift box on the table, with love notes all written to Y/N. All in the right locker.

Tags!

@em16cor @ladyofthepitt @saramelaniemoon @jazzycurls @xyzstar @amira0303 @kaelaiscool @gaychaos-stuff

#robin buckley x reader #robin buckley angst #robin buckley x female reader #robin buckley #robin buckley x y/n #robin buckley fic #robin buckley requests #ashwhowrites #robin buckley fluff #robin buckley x reader fluff #robin Buckley x reader angst

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firehousefreak911 · 1 year

Text

Tough Call

It was 12 am. You had been asleep for a few hours when you heard your phone ring. It was your boyfriend, Evan Buckley.

“Hey baby, is everything ok?” You ask still half asleep.

“Oh, fuck, I’m sorry I didn’t realize how late it was, I shouldn’t have called you” he said sounding defeated.

“Evan, baby, whats wrong?” You ask sitting up in bed now worried.

“We had a tough call tonight, I just needed to hear your voice” he said.

“You want to talk about it?” You asked him.

He sighed “no, I don’t want to keep you awake much longer, I’m going to try to get some sleep, I love you”

“You know I’m always here, you don’t ever have to worry about calling me too late, I love you, I will always answer you when you need me, try to get some rest” you admitted to him.

“I know, Good night beautiful, I love you more than you will ever know”

“Be careful, baby, good night I love you” you said still concerned for Buck.

“Always” he said for hanging up.

You sent a quick text to Bobby telling him to keep an eye on Buck because you know how Buck likes to play solo hero when he is upset.

#evan buckley #evan buck buckley #Buckley #buck buckley #Buck #buck x reader #911fanfic #buckley x reader #evan buckley x reader #evan x y/n #buck x y/n #buckley x y/n #evan buckley x y/n

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ecoamerica · 25 days

Text

youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

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elliesmainhoe · 4 months

Note

Robin buckley, who is OBSESSED with the reader, and gets shy and giggly, please 🥰

Puppy Love

Robin Buckley x Fem! reader

Summary: Robin thinks you're the cutest thing to walk this earth.

Warnings: none.

Robin could feel her heartbeat through her chest, a fast pounding that picked up the pace at the sound of light knocks at her trailer door. she exhaled softly, hoping to relieve some of the anxiety as she smoothed down her hair and jacket.

she didn't know why she still felt this way, you'd been her girlfriend for coming up a year now and she thought that her feelings would fade. that's what the movies said should happen when you're a teenager.

you fall in love, become infatuated, get bored and then the feelings fade. puppy love is what they called it.

her hand tugged open the door, a giddy smile plastered on her face. "hiya baby." she hummed, arms wrapping round your waist. "hey robs" you whispered back, nuzzling your face into her hair, the smell of her strawberry scented shampoo immediately making your body relax.

"I took some tapes from work, we can watch one and eat popcorn? I think I've got a spare pack in the back of the cupboard somewhere' she says, moving to take your coat from you and hanging it up by the door. "yeah that sounds great robs"

she watches as you sit down, smiling at her as she kneels in front of you and begins unlacing your shoes. Robin had made a point of telling you that she enjoys doing the simple things for you. like taking your coat, helping you take off your shoes, getting you drinks. a true gentlewoman.

a few minutes later, she approached the couch where you lay sprawled out, the remote to the TV in your hand as a tape of 'The Karate Kid' plays and places a bowl of popcorn on the coffee table before sitting next to you.

you press a chaste kiss to her lips, feeling her smile press up against you. another to her left cheek, in which she instinctively places a hand on the small of your back. one against the now rosy red tip of her nose, drawing out a giggle from her. and finally her forehead.

"god baby, you're so pretty" she smiled, freckled cheeks rosy as a love sick glint in her eyes shine as they locked with yours.

"nah, you're much prettier" you reply, making her look away bashfully, another giggling fit coming from her. you scoff and roll your eyes.

'no, this wasn't puppy love', you thought, I don't think this will ever fade.

#robin buckley #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x you #robin buckley x female reader #robin buckley x y/n #robin buckley drabble #robin buckley fluff #stranger things #stranger things x reader #lesbian #wlw

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tooearlyforthis · 11 months

Text

Bound in Pain | Steve Harrington

Pairing: Steve Harrington x soulmate!Reader

Word Count: 8.6k

Synopsis: In a world where you can feel your soulmate's pain, y/n gives up hope. That was until Vecna attacked Hawkins.

Warnings: during season 4, fluff, soulmate AU!

I love soulmate au's but they are so rare. Petition for more of these to be written please!

Click here to see my masterlist

Y/n didn’t like the soulmate attachment. It seemed weird to her that everyone in the world had someone perfect for them, so perfect, that they could feel each other's pain. A tether that connected souls, meant to help find each other in the sea of other people.

She remembered when she found out. Waking up with bruises covering her, like an artist painting a canvas. A sharp pain pulsated through her arms, as her parents explained why it was happening to her. Why she was feeling pain without cause.

At first she dismissed the constant pain as reckless behavior. But then the small bruises turned into black eyes, scrapes turned into gashes, and she couldn’t wait for the day she could ask her soulmate why.

Most people found their other half around the time they turned 16. No one knew why but it always ended up that way. Why did bond forced people together at such a young age? To prevent them from deviating? To start the rest of their lives?

Whatever the reason, it didn’t matter. Y/n woke up on the morning of that birthday with a twinkle in her eyes, a sudden hope that maybe today was the day she would find them. She kept her eyes peeled, watching the movements of everyone around her. But days passed, even months and still there was no sign of her soulmate anywhere.

A majority of the kids in her grade had already found their match and her blood boiled every time she would pass them in the halls. So cute, so perfect together. It was just a reminder that she was still alone. Where could her soulmate be? Was she unlucky? Did they live an unfathomable distance away from her?

After graduating high school, with still no hint as to who her partner could be, Y/n gave up hope. Maybe she was meant to be single forever. Maybe this other person, who was so careless and rash, was meant to stay anonymous.

It wasn’t until the summer of ’85 that she knew she would definitively be alone. During the cold night of Fourth of July, she was waiting in a churro line at the Hawkin’s Fair, accompanied by a friend she knew back in high school. One minute she was moving forward, watching as someone left with their food and the next…it was like a punch in the gut.

Falling over, she slammed into the ground, the coarse dirt digging into her sides. But the pain didn’t stop. Punch after punch, slap after slap, Y/n cried out in pain. It was so intense, unlike anything she had ever felt before.

Her friend had managed to get her home in time for a pulsating sting to go through her neck, knocking her out for the rest of the night. She didn’t hear about the mall until the next day. It was a logical conclusion to say her soulmate died in that fire. After years and years of bruises and punches it all just stopped. No more stubbed toes or bruises on her legs; it was all gone.

For months after, she would stare at the newspaper clipping with the pictures of everyone who died. Somewhere amongst all the fallen faces was her soulmate. Part of her was sad she didn’t get to meet them. That everyone around her got their fairytale ending while she was destined to be alone.

She had already made her peace with never finding them but now it felt permanent. It wasn’t some lie she was telling herself because of the long delay - it was the truth.

On one particular day in March, Y/n got off from work hoping for a pick me up. One of her coworkers who was still in high school had found her soulmate during their shift and she couldn’t stand to be around them.

She walked into her local video store and began perusing the aisles. Maybe something with action? A Mystery? She wasn’t in the mood for anything in particular. Just something to keep her distracted for a few hours ‘till nightfall.

One of the staff rounded the corner, speaking before he could even spot who it was. “Hey, welcome to Family Video what can I-” He smiled when he saw her. “Oh, hey, Y/n.”

She smiled back, “Hey, Steve.”

Steve Harrington, former ruler of Hawkins High, slumped against a shelf and crossed his arms. His “customer helping” voice faded as he eased back into his own personality. Y/n didn’t know Steve well in school, despite being in the same grade. She did, however, become somewhat friends with him over the summer.

Before the mall fire, she had a cushy job as the receptionist at a nail salon right across from the ice scream shop he worked in. Oftentimes, her co-workers would send her over to Scoops Ahoy to get ice cream for everyone, especially when the humid summer air came into effect.

What started as friendly hellos and waves with Steve and Robin soon turned into conversations and hangouts during lunch breaks. They would often sneak her scoop of rocky road when their manager wasn’t there to help her get through the day. In return, she would offer a free nail appointment. It wasn’t much but Robin did take her up on the offer once.

She would like to say they were friends by that point, though they haven’t really talked since the summer. When you spend every day so close to people, it's easy to bond. But when you take that away, it can test the strength of the relationships you’ve built.

“Looking for anything in particular?” Steve asked, slumping further into the shelf. She shook her head, looking back at all the tapes. “How about romance? We just got in Lady Jane.”

“No,” she responded quickly. “No, romance.”

Nodding, he stood up straight, adjusting his green vest. “Okay, no romance, got it. Well…” he trailed off, rounding a corner.

He didn’t even check if she was following. She was; walking closely behind him as he searched for another film. Finally, he eyes fell on one, picking it up and pressing it against his chest. Both his hands encapsulated the case, laying flatly on the top and bottom.

“What about Clue? It’s a murder mystery; based off the game.” The words curled up at the end, almost like an invitation to keep pushing.

Y/n scrunched her face, her mouth closing to a thin line. “Getting closer.”

A smile crept on his face. “Okay then, I think I know just the-”

Before he could finish, Robin yelled from across the store, “Hey Dingus! Check this out.”

Sighing, he put down the tape, leaning out of the shelves to see what she needed. “Robs, I’m with a customer,” he told her.

Finally, she turned to look at them, pulling her eyes away from the tv that hung near the reception desk in the middle of the room. “Oh shit sorry- oh it’s just Y/n. Both of you come on!”

“Sorry about this-” Steve told her, walking out of the row of tapes.

Y/n waved a hand to stop him. “It’s okay, I’m not in dire need of a movie right now.”

Chuckling, he looked down at his feet as they approached his co-worker. The static sound of the TV grew as they focused on the reporter's words.

“This just in, a local Hawkins student found murdered at Forest Hills Trailer Park. The police have yet to reveal the identity of the student…”

“Oh shit,” Y/n mumbled to herself. Steve gave a hum of acknowledgment, tilting his head toward her. “That’s where Eddie lives.”

His head whipped over to look at her. “You know Munson?” he asked.

“Yeah, he used to sell me weed in high school. We’d smoke under the bleachers sometimes.” Taking a minute longer to stare at the new broadcast, she finally looked over at a very surprised Steve Harrington. His eyebrows were raised, eyes wide and not closing. “What? Surprised I know him?”

“I mean yeah but…didn’t take you for a smoker.”

She rolled her eyes. “Like you didn’t smoke too. I saw those cigarettes you used to hide on your breaks.”

“Yeah but I didn’t buy them from Eddie Munson.”

“Does that really matter?”

He opened his mouth to respond but the bell of the store dinged loudly, followed by the voice of a young teen. “Hey Steve!”

Y/n watched as he closed his eyes, the muscles of his face contorting into a grimace. Turning, he shouted “What?”

Two young teens came running in, out of breath from whatever journey it took to get there. The one that yelled was a boy with curly hair muffled by a snapback hat. He had on some weird shirt with a devil covered by a patterned button down left open. The other was a girl. A redhead that was dressed relatively normal compared to her friend.

“How many phones do you have?” the boy asked, leaning over the front desk.

“Dustin, can’t you see I’m in the middle of something?”

Ignoring the response, he repeated his question. “I don’t care about your flirting, I asked how many phones you have!”

Walking up behind Y/n and Steve, Robin joined the conversation. “Three if you count the phone in the back,” she said.

The two freshmen looked at each other, some sort of silent conversation going on. “That could work,” the girl finally said.

Before anyone could protest, Dustin threw his bag over the counter, jumping over to follow it. There were immediate protests from Steve as the young kid took helm of the computer, the redhead running around the side to join him.

“Woah woah woah!” Steve shouted.

“No time for dilly dallying, we have a man to track down!”

As the boys got into a somewhat heated argument, Y/n figured she wouldn’t be getting a movie any time soon. Leaning over to Robin, she whispered, “I’ll just come back later.”

The girl flashed her sympathetic look. “Are you sure? I could help you out-”

“-It’s all good, you’ve got your hands full.”

“Max, just explain to them what’s going on I’ve got this!” Dustin called out.

“Okay, Jesus, I was getting to that!” the girl responded.

Y/n turned, making her way out from behind the counter and toward the front door empty handed. She tried not to eavesdrop but it was hard with only them in the store.

“We need to find Eddie Munson,” Max began.

She could hear Steve groan. “Everybody with this Eddie Munson shit!”

“You’re just mad about me having an older male friend,” Dustin chimed in.

“No, I don’t, but I do have a problem with you bringing it up every five seconds.”

“I do not bring him up-”

“-Oh you so do.”

“Guys stop!” Max screamed at them. “They think Eddie killed Chrissy.”

“Chrissy Cunningham? The cheerleader? She’s the one they found dead?!” Robin added.

Y/n felt her breath hitch as she grabbed the handle on the front door. She wanted to walk out, to ignore the sad news which seemed to be a constant now in their town. But something urged her to keep listening.

“Yeah,” Max continued. “But he didn’t do it. He ran from his house last night and we just need to find where he is.”

Eddie was in trouble? Why was he with Chrissy Cunningham? Thoughts raced through Y/n’s mind at a rapid pace, but not one of them was to push the door and leave. Something in her felt like she needed to help. She could have a lead, she be useful to them.

Not deliberating any further, she turned around. “I might know where he is,” she announced.

The four teens fell silent, turning to look at her. “You do?” Max asked.

Dustin, swiveling in his chair and asked, “I’m sorry, who are you?”

Y/n opened her mouth to respond but found she didn’t know what to say. Who was she to them? Was she a friend? They’ve barely spoken in months. They weren’t co-workers, never working in the same place before if you don’t count the mall as a whole.

Thankfully, Steve answered for her. “She’s a friend. Dustin, Max, this is Y/n.”

Max gave a small wave which she returned, however, Dustin got right to the point. “You know where Eddie is?”

She nodded. “Maybe. I know where he hangs out. If this is serious he probably went to Rick’s place.”

“Rick?”

“Reefer Rick? It’s where Eddie gets his supply from,” she clarified.

“Do you know where this Reefer Rick lives?” Robin asked.

Y/n nodded. “Okay then!” Dustin announced, getting up from his stool. “Let’s go.”

“What now?” Steve protested. “This is our busiest day, we can't just leave!”

“Steve!” Max shouted at him. “This could be a code red.”

Y/n frowned at the girl's words. Code red? What was a code red? It was clear Steve understood. His demeanor changed, shoulders slumping back as his gaze softened. Looking over at Robin first she only gave a nod. Finally, he looked at Y/n. “Are you okay to show us where he lives?”

“Y-yeah. I’m off for the rest of the day so…”

“Perfect!” Dustin shouted. “Then let’s get going!”

🎬🎬🎬

By the time they were approaching Reefer Rick’s house it was already dark out. The sun had set a while ago, almost blinding her in the back seat of Steve’s car. He had apologized for the seating arrangement when they got in. She was sandwiched between the two freshmen in the back who wouldn’t stop asking her questions on how she was involved.

As she told Steve to turn left down Rick’s street, Dustin asked another question. “Are you Eddie’s soulmate?”

“What? No!” She responded immediately. “We’re just friends and barely at that. He was my dealer.”

“How do you know you aren’t soulmates?” Max asked.

Y/n paused for a moment before responding simply with, “Cause I just know.”

Every time she told people her soulmate died, they would give her sympathetic apologies. It made her sick to her stomach. She was already trying to grapple with the idea of being alone without ever meeting them. She didn’t need the weight of other people’s condolences on her shoulders. Luckily, they turned into the driveway before anyone could ask further questions.

Everyone piled out of the car and Y/n finally felt like she could breathe. She stepped into the crips night air, breathing in like she had gone a week without oxygen. It was so refreshing, a new wave of energy washing over her.

“I don’t see anyone inside,” Robin said, peering into the dark window near the front door.

“What about there?” Steve asked, pointing over to the boat house. “You think it’s open?”

Max shrugged. “It’s worth a shot.”

Y/n silently followed the four teens who clearly had more experience with this code red business than her. She wondered what it could be. Up until her junior year of high school, nothing strange had ever occurred in Hawkins. It was just a small, boring town that people were barely aware of. But now… she didn’t know what it was now.

The boat house was unlocked, much to everyone’s surprise, and they all slowly stepped inside. The only light came from the lamp outside which was now seeping through the cracks of the open door.

Quickly, Dustin dug through his bag pulling out multiple flashlights and handing them out. Everyone took one without question, beginning to search around the small room. He held one out for Y/n.

Hesitantly, she took it. “Do you always carry around this many flashlights?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he responded, like it was a normal day for him, walking away he began his search too.

“Sorry about him,” Steve said, coming up behind her. “Sometimes he doesn’t remember that not everyone has done the things that we’ve done.”

Her head tilted at his words. “And what exactly have you done?”

Chuckling, he responded, “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” He picked up an oar, prodding at the tarp covering the boat.

Stepping closer to him, she responded, “Try me.”

His breath hitched as his eyes flickered down to the small space in between them. She looked down too, noticing how close she had stepped to him. Heat rose to her cheeks as she peered back up at him, his chocolate brown eyes staring back.

Y/n liked to think they had a moment, one where she forgot her soulmate was dead. One where there was still the thrilling possibility he might be her match.

But before she could remind herself of the truth, she was slammed onto the floor, a figure rising from underneath the tarp. There were shouts and screams as something thudded against the wall. Still trying to find her bearings, she felt a hand wrap around her arm.

“Are you okay?” Robin asked, pulling her to her feet.

“Yeah,” she said, letting out of breath. Her throat tingled with a sensation she couldn’t quite palace, a hand coming up to graze her neck. “I-I think so.”

“Eddie, he's not a bad guy!” Dustin yelled.

Y/n and Robin’s attention was brought back to the situation currently at hand. It was Eddie who emerged from the boat, holding a switchblade to Steve’s throat in shock. Steve scurried from underneath the weapon, trying to breath out a response.

“We’re here to help!” Dustin continued, “This is Max, my friend who never wants to play DND.” Max gave a small wave. “And you know Robin, from band right? She plays the trumpet.”

Robin brought up her hands, mimicking a trumpet motion before regretting her decision and shaking her wrists.

“A-and Y/n!” he said, motioning to her in the very back. “You know Y/n right?”

Eddie’s eyes scanned over to her, a sense of recognition in his features. “D-Y/n?” he said in a low grumble.

“Eddie, remember me? We used to smoke under the-”

“I-I remember,” he interrupted, his voice softer than before. Slowly, out of instinct or not, the knife began to lower, a click sounding as it flipped back closed.

Y/n couldn’t stop herself from rushing forward, engulfing him in a hug. His hands tightened around her waist, squeezing her harder than probably intended. “Are you okay? We saw the news.”

She helped him sit back down on an overturned bucket, looking over at her shoulder to make sure Steve was okay. He was, his breaths becoming more regular and Robin soothed his back.

“I didn’t know where else to go…” Eddie told her, trailing off as he instinctively played with the rings on his fingers.

“Well you’re okay now, got it?” He gave a small nod. “Just tell us what happened.”

“Y-you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

The words echoed through her head, the same words Steve had told her just moments before. What had she gotten herself into?

“Try us,” Max spoke out.

He glanced at her for a moment, then around the room and everyone's eyes were suddenly on him.

“Chrissy came to me after school yesterday, wanting to try some of my supply. Then, she tripped over a log and scraped her knee….she…. She was my soulmate.”

He stopped for a moment, gaging the small reactions throughout the room. “Trust me, I couldn’t believe it either. We talked a little, she wanted to try some stronger stuff so I took her back to my place after the game.

I was searching in my room for it but when I came out she was…it was like she wasn’t there? Her eyes were blank and she wasn’t responding to anything I was saying. The lights began to flicker all around us and she….she started to float. Shit, like right out of a horror movie ya know? And then… a-and then…fuck.”

He began to stutter, whatever happened next clearly frightening him more than what he had already told them. Y/n leaned forward, rubbing a hand on top of his.

“It’s okay,” she soothed. “What happened next?”

Looking up at her, he found the strength to continue. “H-her back slammed into the roof and her limbs…her limbs starting to break in ways that shouldn’t be possible. Then her jaw, and then her eyes…I ran out of there after she fell to the ground.”

The room was silent, nothing but the small waves echoing throughout the room. Y/n was trying to process what he was saying. Trying to find a logical explanation for what Eddie had saw.

“You all think I’m crazy,” he said, curling back.

“No, we don’t,” Y/n said first. “But there has to be a reasonable explanation for all of this. I mean, maybe she was-”

“-there is,” Dustin interrupted her. She turned back to look at him. “W-what I’m about to tell you guys, might be… a little difficult to take.”

“Okay,” Y/n said, her attention fully on him.

“You know how people say that Hawkins is cursed? Well, they’re not that far off…There’s another world. A world hidden beneath Hawkins.”

“B-beneath Haw- What are you talking about?” Y/n asked, confused.

“This world is like ours, but darker, and sometimes it bleeds into ours.”

“What like ghosts and shit?” Eddie asked.

Max let out a heavy sigh, “There are somethings worse than ghosts…”

🎬🎬🎬

The last day and a half had been utter chaos. Two more people were dead and it’s all thanks to this Vecna creature - Y/n still didn’t fully understand it.

They teamed up with even more people on their trek to Lover’s Lake and had another awkward conversation as to why Y/n was there. She even got to properly meet Steve’s ex girlfriend which was…interesting to say the least.

As she made her way through the woods, she felt someone walk up next to her. It was Max, poor Max who had been playing Kate Bush in her headphones ever since they went to the cemetery.

Y/n gave her a smile. “How are you holding up?” she asked.

The young girl shrugged. “As good as I can be I guess…”

“That’s good…”

They fell into a silent walk, Dustin leading the group ahead with some of the older teens lagging behind. “Can I ask you something?” Max said suddenly.

“Yeah sure, what’s up?”

“How do you know Steve? He said you’re friends but I thought we were his only friends.”

“Oh…well, we went to high school together,” Y/n began but changed her mind. “But we didn’t really know each other. I worked across from him and Robin in the mall. Kind of became work buddies.”

Max nodded along. “Is he your soulmate?”

She whipped her head toward her. “What’s with you guys and my soulmate?”

“Just curious,” she mumbled, stepping over a log.

“No, he’s not my soulmate…”

“Did you ask him?” Y/n shook her head. “Then how do you know it’s not him? Cause like statistically you should’ve found them by now. I mean, I have- had Lucas…I’m not sure he believes in all this soulmate stuff anymore.”

She looked up in the distance where her ex boyfriend was walking with Dustin. Their eyes were glued to the compass in Dustin’s hand.

Y/n followed her gaze to the boys, mumbling, “I’m not sure I do either.”

Max furrowed her brows looking back at her. She debated leaving it at that. So many people had asked about her soulmate and every time she refused to discuss the subject further. But this felt different, being with these people, she felt like she could trust them.

“My soulmates’ dead,” she blurted out.

It took a moment for Max to think of a response. “Oh…how do you know?”

“The night of the mall fire…I felt this intense pain, worse than I’ve ever felt before and then…” she shrugged. “Nothing. All those years of bruises and cuts gone in an instant…I haven’t felt anything since that night so, I figured they died in the fire.”

She looked next to her, watching as Max interpreted the information. She couldn’t remember the last person she told about her soulmate. So many sorries and my condolences…Max was staying quiet, it was unlike any reaction she had seen. Something deeper was going on.

“You okay over there?” she asked.

“It…it wasn’t a mall fire…” Max said in almost a whisper.

Y/n felt her heart drop. “What?”

“It wasn’t a fire…it was the-” Max stopped herself, trying to rephrase. “Last year, one of the monsters came out of the Upside Down. It absorbed a bunch of people to get bigger and headed to the mall. We all fought it there.”

“So the pain I was feeling-”

“Was probably them being absorbed into the Mind Flayer… I’m sorry Y/n. If we stopped it the first time-”

“Hey don’t do that,” she interrupted, placing a hand on the girl's arm. They both stopped, facing each other. “It’s not your fault. It’s not any of your faults. I’ll find someone someday. It might not be my soulmate but I’ll still be happy....”

Max stared at her, not fully convinced. “I’ll be fine, trust me.” Ahead of them, the younger friends started giggling. “Go with your friends and listen to Kate Bush.”

She gave her a smile, urging the redhead to not worry about it anymore. The girl did so, walking off to join the conversation. It wasn’t long before another person took her place next to Y/n.

“Girl problems?” Steve asked, falling into the rhythm of her walking.

She rolled her eyes, “Oh yeah we were talking about our periods.” His eyes widened, trying not to comment on the topic. “Oh my god I was joking.”

“Oh,” he said, letting out a long breath. “Okay good I didn’t know what to say.”

Y/n chuckled at his awkwardness. When did he become like this? The Steve she saw in school was a smooth talker. A person who knew how to make everyone fall in love with him. But now, as they were searching for a multi-dimensional gate surrounded by freshmen…it gave him some humility.

“She was asking me about my soulmate again,” Y/n informed him.

Nodding, he asked, “So, about your soulmate…have you found them yet?”

“No, uh…Max was telling me about the Mind Flayer last year? Pretty sure they died during all of that.”

“Oh…” Steve fell silent, not knowing how to react. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, not your fault. I’ve made my peace with it.”

She looked over to him, trying to reassure him that the party’s antics weren’t the cause of her soulmate’s demise. But as she did so, she missed a root sticking out of the ground. Wobbling forward, she felt as Steve reached out, wrapping his arms around her torso. He pulled her up against him, trying quickly to help her regain her balance.

Breathlessly, she looked back up at him and said, “Thanks.”

“No problem,” he responded, backing up slightly as he became aware of how close they had gotten. His hands lingered on her back, not too eager to let go. Slowly, she began to step away, pulling both of them back to reality.

“So…do you have a soulmate? - I mean have you found them?” She fell back into a slow walking pace, Steve still staying close.

“No, not yet. My soulmate doesn’t really feel a lot of pain so it’s been hard to pinpoint who it is. The occasional paper cut doesn’t really help ya know?” Y/n nodded in agreement. “I thought it was Nancy at first… but then she and Jonathan cut their hands to fight the Demogorgon and found each other so, clearly I was wrong.”

“Oh…well that’s-”

“-yeah…so, still looking,” he said, trying to put optimism in his tone. It was clear he didn’t believe it.

As they approached the edge of the lake, Nancy and Robin working to grab a boat, she turned to him.

“I hope you find your soulmate Steve,” she said sincerely. “You deserve someone.”

A small smile formed on his lips and he couldn’t stop himself from looking down to shake it away. “T-thanks.”

“Alright dingus, come on!” Shouted Robin.

The two of them looked over to see Nancy and Eddie already on the boat, Robin holding out her hand for the two teens.

Putting an arm out, Steve said, “Lady’s first.”

Smiling, Y/n grabbed Robin’s arm, tumbling into the boat where Eddie helped her down. She watched as Steve climbed on, yelling at Dustin for them to stay on shore before they began to float out onto the water.

Nancy was quick to take control of the oars, though no matter how much stability to applied, the boat still rocked. Y/n could feel her brain begin to get fuzzy, the constant movement making her slightly sick.

“You okay?” Eddie asked, placing a hand on her arm.

Nodding, she tried to steady herself. “Yeah…a little too late to ask that question.”

“Oh my god what are you doing?” Robin asked, pulling the two of them out of their conversation.

Confused, Y/n looked up to see Steve tossing off his yellow sweater. Someone shined a flashlight up at him and she could clearly see the mess of curls across his chest. He was fit, but not in an overly ripped kind of way. More like someone who was born with a fast metabolism and it took a lot of effort for her not to stare.

“What are you doing?” Nancy asked.

Steve ran a hand through his hair, leaning over the side of the boat. “Well someone has to check to see if that thing is down there.”

“Just-” Eddie began, reaching down to put a flashlight in a plastic bag, handing it to him. “Here.”

He thanked him quickly, ready to dive into the water when Y/n had the sudden urge to reach out to him. “Wait,” she said, placing a hand on his arm. He turned back, catching her eyes. “Be careful, okay? If you don’t see anything, come right back up.”

“Don’t worry I will,” he reassured her before turning and diving under.

The boat shook as he left and Robin hurled herself toward Nancy in an effort to not get wet. Slowly, as it began to settle, they waited. There was a tightness in her chest, a tension that wouldn’t go away until she knew Steve was okay.

Almost a minute and a had passed and she was growing more anxious.

“Where is he?” she asked no one in particular.

“He should have come up by now,” Nancy said, checking her watch.

“That’s it I’m going after-”

Steve bursted out of the water before she could finish her sentence. Gasping for breath, he reached for the side of the boat. Feeling breathless as well Y/n reached forward, guiding him to a steady grip.

“It’s down there alright,” he said.

Eddie sighed in relief, “Okay then dude get back up here.”

“Okay,” he said as Y/n began to pull him up.

Abruptly, she stopped. There was some feeling, something tugging at her and she could tell Steve felt so too. “What are you waiting for?” Robin exclaimed.

“I-I don’t know,” Y/n began. “Steve, we have to hurry.”

“Yeah, oka-”

Before their very eyes, Steve was pulled under water, his grasp quickly leaving hers. Everyone was calling out to him, but it all felt like a distant echo as Y/n dove in after him. It was so sudden she didn’t even remember making the decision as she swam down, trying to grab a hold of her friend.

The water was making her vision blurry but she could see the outline of him being pulled further and further toward a giant red hole at the bottom of the ocean. She kept pushing through the water with all her might as she saw him disappear through the gate. Determination kept her going, knowing that wherever Steve went, she’d be going after him.

She was almost there, the slimy vines just out of reach as a pain seared through her neck. She curled up, instinctively, feeling something strong closing her air pipe. Reaching her hands out, she tried to pull it away but there was nothing there. Nothing but skin touched her fingertips as she tried to relieve herself of the pain.

Was her soulmate alive? Was this their doing?

Then, something sharp attacked her side. It felt like something was being ripped out of her, seeking teeth into both her sides. She cried out under the water, her supply of oxygen decreasing faster by the second.

She tried to swim forward, to make it the extra inch to the gate but the pain made her writhe, floating aimlessly in the lake. Is this how she was going to die? At the hands of her soulmate under Lover’s Lake?

In her peripheral vision, she saw something pass her. Then, arms wrapped around her waist, stinging as they collided with the pain. They pulled her down, pushing her until she was taken in by the current of the gate.

Y/n felt as she was flipped upside down, finding herself tumbling toward a hard surface. Air finally reentered her lungs, just enough through the choking feeling that still clawed at her throat. The pain in her sides hadn’t stopped either, forcing her to roll on her knees.

Someone knelt next to her, a hand placed on her back. “Y/n, woah, are you okay? What’s happening?”

“Munson, we need help over here?” Nancy yelled.

“Give me a second we have another problem going on!”

Y/n stretched her neck as much as she could to see where Nancy was calling from. A few feet away, lying on the floor in pain was Steve Harrington. There was some bat-like creature chewing into his side as Robin tried to swat it away. Nancy was working on another one, its tail roped around Steve’s neck.

She could barely put two thoughts together as pain soared through her. But what she could see was that her friend was in pain, in the same spots her soulmate was injured in. Whatever strength she had left was depleted as she rolled onto her back.

“Y/n, honey, you gotta tell me what to do? What happened?” Eddie shouted at her.

Through her raggedy breaths she managed to say, “H-help them.”

“What?” he asked, confused.

“Go!”

With one deep breath he stood up looking around him. Grabbing an oar, he ran towards his friend. “Wheeler! Try this!”

Tossing the wooden paddle, Nancy caught it with ease. She took it with both hands, snapping it over her knee as using the now shard wood to stab into the bat on Steve’s neck. It collapsed on impact, loosening its grip around his throat.

As Steve gasped for air across the deserted lake, Y/n did too. Eddie was the only one who clocked the similarity, giving her a strange look as she sat up, letting all the air she could enter her lungs.

Turning back to the group, he helped the girls grab the other two bats, pulling them out of Steve’s abdomen. Sudden energy surged through Y/n as the pains in her sides began to subside. She looked up to the group fighting off the remaining bats. She knew what all this meant. What it meant about her and him.

But for now, it could wait. She ran, helping take down the rest of the bats swarming around them. Nancy and Robin made quick work of one while Eddie and her grabbed the other. They ran in opposite directions, ripping it in half. As her piece of the creature fell to the floor, she looked back up, ready to help with the next one. But there was only one left and it didn’t look like Steve needed any help.

He slammed it into the ground over and over again, the guts of the creature spilling like candy out of a piñata. Using his teeth, he ripped off the head, letting its decapitated body fall to the ground. Nancy and Robin were quick to run to his sides, giving him support to lean on as he began to collapse.

Y/n tried to move toward him too, finding herself tripping over her own feet. She definitely hadn’t recovered from almost drowning, still feeling the tingle of water stuck in her esophagus. Eddie was quick to catch her. “Hey, I’m here, don’t worry,” he soothed.

“Guys,” Nancy called out. “We gotta move.” Pointing behind them, they watched as a giant swarm of bats was heading straight toward them.

Eddie leaned into Y/n’s side. “Can you walk?” She nodded. “Okay, let’s get going.”

Everyone was right when they said the Upside Down was an exact replica of Hawkins. You know, just a little dirtier and full of alien creatures.

They were able to find Skull Rock in a reasonable amount of time, using it as a stopping point to patch up everyone’s wounds. Though, most of the patching would go towards Steve who was still bleeding from his stomach.

Nancy helped lean him against a rock, using part of her shirt to make a bandage since he dove in shirtless. Meanwhile Eddie helped her sit down on the one log they could find with no vines wrapping around it while Robin paced between all of them.

She lifted her shirt up carefully to find a very bruised stomach. Soulmate marks couldn’t cut as deep as the real one but they did always leave something behind. She glanced up at Steve, wounds matching the placement of her injuries.

“You have to tell him,” Eddie said quietly.

Y/n pulled her shirt back down. “Not now.”

“We might all die here. I think now is as good as time as any.”

“I thought my soulmate was dead,” she mumbled, looking down at the ground still in shock. “And this whole time he’s been in the back of my algebra class. Working across from me at the mall…”

Eddie pulled her attention back to the present. “Listen, Chrissy died less than 24 hours after we found out. I didn’t get time, just make sure you do.”

She looked up to meet his gaze. It was softer than she was used to seeing him. He was always so stern, so broody. These doe eyes suited him.

“I will,” she told him. “Let’s just get out of here first.”

🎬🎬🎬

Poor Robin. Poor, poor Robin.

They had been walking through the army surplus store, gathering supplies to trek back to the upside down when they stumbled upon Vickie Sullivan.

More specifically, Vickie Sullivan and her boyfriend.

Robin had gone back to the trailer before Y/n could even protest, telling her it probably wasn’t her soulmate. Loads of people dated before finding their other half. But she wouldn’t listen.

“She just needs some time,” Steve said, picking up another gallon of gasoline.

“Yeah, I know…” she responded, pushing the cart.

With Robin gone, this was the first time they had been alone since she walked into Family Video days before. It had only been a few days but so much had changed.

Steve loaded another gallon into the cart, and Y/n absentmindedly pushed the it again, right into his side. He stumbled forward, using the cart to balance himself.

“I’m sorry!” She exclaimed.

“No it’s alright. I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Deep in thought?”

Steve crossed his hands, coming around to stand next to her. “Yeah, something like that… Hey, I just wanted to say thank you.”

She tilted her head. “Thank me? For what?”

“Robin told me you were the first one to dive into the lake when I went under. That was pretty heroic.”

“Oh it was nothing,” she said, leaning toward him slightly, their shoulders grazing.

“No it wasn’t,” he insisted, turning to face her. As she looked up at him, Y/n became acutely aware of how close they were standing. “It was really brave.”

As the words left his mouth, Steve made no move to back up. She could feel his breath on her skin, see the stubble of his mustache. He looked so calm, so unlike how they had all been feeling the past few hours…If she’d let herself, she would get lost in his eyes.

“I have to tell you something-” she began to say, before there was an interruption.

“We gotta move,” said a voice, moving closer to them. Y/n stepped away first, willing herself to look anywhere but him. Her eyes landed on Nancy. “Jason is here.”

That got them moving. Steve took the cart, taking it to the front to pay as she followed Nancy back to the trailer. Everybody else was already inside, clamoring back to the seats they had taken earlier.

Only this time, Nancy moved to the back, motioning for her to take the driver’s side seat. She did so, confused, before Steve came running back to them and started the car without a second to waist.

Y/n gave one last look back at Nancy who flashed her a smile of recognition. Maybe she wasn’t as good at hiding her emotions as she originally thought.

🎬🎬🎬

Being back in the Upside Down was the last place Y/n wanted to be. But if it meant stopping all of the disasters for good? She’d do anything.

“If they get too close, go, okay? Don’t try to be the heroes,” Steve said, his attention directed at Eddie and Dustin who were staying back at the gate.

“We will,” Dustin said, standing up straighter with pride.

Giving a nod, Steve turned back to her, Robin and Nancy, ready to begin their trek to the Creel House. They were about to leave when Eddie called out for her. She turned back, walking a foot or two to meet him halfway.

“Tell him,” he whispered, which only made her roll her eyes. “This might be your last chance.”

“I will if we survive,” she rebutted. “Promise.”

Giving a curt nod, he backed up, letting her return to her group. “What was that about?” Robin asked.

“Nothing,” Y/n dismissed, and no one questioned her further.

The walk to Upside Down Creel House was a lot easier when you were equipped with the right things. Thick combat boots were laced over her feet; dry clothes covering every inch of her body.

As they approached the front door, the three girls let Steve enter first, paving a path through the vines that laced the floor. As he hoped over one, Y/n would follow, mimicking his movements. She held out a hand behind her, helping Robin and Nancy who were close to follow. The stairs proved to be more tricky then the rest, the living roots moving faster as they inched closer to Vecna.

Steve was the first to make it up the first flight okay, helping pull Y/n, and arm wrapped around hers. Just as she was reaching for the last step, something erupted in the distance. They both paused and she could feel Nancy grab on to the bag she had thrown across her back. The sound began to soften, echoing away as a rumble took its place. Not before long the entire ground started to shake, loosening her grip.

In a series of quick thinking, Steve yanked on her arm, pulling her up the stairs to stand behind him as he reached for Nancy, then Robin. By the time shaking had subsided, all four of them were safe on the landing. Y/n took a deep breath, silently thanking that everyone was okay.

The celebration, however, was short lived. The vines reached for her ankle first, slithering up her leg until it wrapped around her waist. Another shot out of the wall, taking her wrist and pulling her flat against the surface.

“Y/n!” Steve yelled.

Nancy and Robin were quick to her side, already pulling at the vines as she cried out. Steve rose his axe, ready to strike down as another vine wrapped around her neck. As she gasped for air, her eyes bulging out, she saw Steve’s step falter.

The axe dropped to the floor with a clang. Hands reached up to grab at his throat, wheezing at the sensation he was being choked. Slowly, he looked back up at Y/n, realization setting in. He fell to his knees gasping for a breath.

“Steve?” Nancy said, looking down at him, then back up at Y/n.

Robin looked down too, registering what was happening quicker. “Holy shit watch out!”

But she was too slow. They watched as a vine extended from the opposite wall, wrapping around him. Y/n was already in pain, already writhing from the tightness around herself. But feeling Steve’s pain on top of that…it was unlike anything she had ever experienced.

As Steve was pulled flush against the wall, his gaze never left hers. It was a silent cry for help, one look saying everything she needed to know. Did she know? How long? Get me out of these damn vines!

Nancy and Robin were soon pulled back as well, placed on either side of her. All she could do was hope her death would be swift.

She didn’t know how much time passed. It could have been minutes but with the lack of oxygen it felt like hours. Steve had closed his eyes after a period of time, the pain being too much to take. As she started to accept her fate, to fade into the darkness forever, the unthinkable happened.

The vines let go.

She dropped to the floor, her knees scraping against the hard wood as Robin collided into her. They were all breathing heavily, trying to take in as much air as possible. After getting back to a reasonable breathing pattern, she looked up at Steve. He was staring right back, taking in deep gulps of air as they all slowly stood up.

There was no mention of what happened. No acknowledgment that the pair of soulmates had finally found each other after so many years of waiting. Just a simple nod before continuing up the stairs.

🎬🎬🎬

It wasn’t until much later, that they spoke again. After they killed Vecna, after the silent walk back to the gate. After Eddie and Dustin helped everyone climb back through.

Y/n was about to walk into the trailer, following close behind with tired feet and too much dirt on her face when Steve grabbed her hand.

She turned back to face him, already knowing what this was about.

“We can talk after we get through the gate okay?” she told him.

“No, I-I can’t wait, just…” He pulled her to the side, out of earshot from a certain young teen. “Did you know? Have you always known?”

“Not until you got attacked by those bats,” she replied softly. “I told you, I thought my soulmate died.”

“If this what you were trying to talk to me about in the army store?”

She nodded. “You have a lot of explaining to do. I’ve gotten punched a lot.”

He chuckled, head drooping down for a moment. “Well, we got all the time in the world now.”

“Are you mad?”

Picking his head back up, he scrunched his brows. “Mad? Why would I be mad?”

“That it’s me…listen, not all soulmates stay together. If you don’t like me like that then-”

He brought his hands up swiftly, cupping her cheeks. They were warm under his callous touch, so soft and gentle but it still sucked all the breath from her.

He spoke slowly, finding the words as they tumbled out of his mouth. “I’ve…wanted to kiss you since the moment you walked into Scoops last summer….So no, I’m not mad that its you.”

Y/n’s breath hitched as he said those words, his eyes never leaving hers. She blushed under the touch of his thumb, slowly, caressing her cheek as he continued to hold her close. Bringing her arms, up, she let them rest on his extended arms. For a moment, everything else faded away and she could almost forget they were standing in an alternate dimension.

He moved closer to her, barely an inch separating their camouflage-covered bodies. “Is…is this okay?” he asked, his head drooping down slightly.

And for the first time in what felt like ever, Y/n let herself be happy. “Yes,” she responded. “It’s more than okay.”

A smile crept of his lips as he guided them down to meet hers. His lips were soft against hers, he sensation multiplied as she felt not only her senses, but his as well. She never thought she’d get to experience this side of her life. To have someone that in such a short time of knowing her, could pledge their loyalty as her partner in life.

His breath was heavy in her mouth as he let out a groan. He let his arms drift from her cheeks down her shoulders and wrap around her waist. Being held in his arms, the carefulness of his touch - it felt like heroin.

Y/n reached up, letting her fingers get lost in his hair as he changed his angle, pressing them closer than she thought was possible. His grip tightened on her waist, pressing into a curve that made her giggle in delight.

He pulled back slightly, letting his eyes drift over her figure. She looked back at him, not hiding her smile as she relished in how flushed she had made him.

“What?” he asked, surprised by the sudden our burst of laughter.

“Nothing,” she replied, looking down for a moment to gain her composure. “Just a little ticklish.”

He rested he forehead against hers, mouth ghosting over hers at the temptation of kissing again. “I really like kissing you.”

Her smile returned. “I like kissing you two.”

Before either of them could lean back in for another kiss, Eddie’s voice rang out, echoing as the trailer door opened with flourish.

“How can you two spend another second in this shit hole-“ he paused when he saw them.

Y/n jumped at the noise, placing a hand on Steve’s chest as he instinctively an arm around her. Realizing it was just Eddie, she let herself relax in his touch with a sigh.

“Oh…” Eddie began again, drawing a logical conclusion. “As happy as I am for you two lovebirds, those bats could comeback any minute.”

“Alright, Munson, we’re coming,” Steve said, annoyed at the interruption - even though he was right.

“Good, cause we don’t need any upside down babies anytime soon!”

Eddie sprinted back inside, knowing if he stuck around longer, he would get both of their wraths. “Munson I swear to god!” Steve yelled leaving her embrace to run after him.

He swung the door wide open to reveal their friend already climbing up the rope. Eddie gave a salute as he let gravity do it’s work, pulling him through. Y/n couldn’t help but laugh at Steve’s sudden urge to protect her, though they both knew Eddie could do no real harm.

“You ready?” Steve said, bringing her attention back to him. She lifted her head to see him extended his hand to her.

With a nod, she took it, ready to start the next chapter of her life.

#fanfic #fluff #friends to lovers #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #joe keery #djo #steve harrington #dustin henderson #robin buckley #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #stranger things 4 #eddie munson

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bookshelf-dust · 11 months

Text

all the time

steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 7,206

warnings: swearing, brief mentions of alcohol, family drama, best friends to lovers type beat (lemme know if i missed anything, as always)

a/n: this got pretty long, and i’m sorry about that. i put a steve option in my 1k celebration poll, and i haven’t been able to get over it, so that’s what this is. i thought i could try it out. i haven’t really had this much fun with a fic in a long time. i know my steve audience isn’t as big, but i guess there’s a chance someone might like it.

————

The crumbs from your crackers drop into your lap, the crease of your book catching them. You set your spoon back down, flipping the hardback over to ensure no crumb will be left lingering in between the pages.

You’re curled into the end chair at the table, just as always, legs crossed and book nestled against your bare legs. Your parents sit across from each other, talking about whatever, but you aren’t listening.

You dunk a cracker in your soup, holding it there for a moment to let it soak up the broth, before tossing it into your mouth. You continue on this way—alternating between scooping up noodles or chicken and drowning saltines—until you have nothing left but the dregs in your bowl.

You mark the page in your book, tuck it under your thigh. You’re tipping the bowl backwards, drinking the rest of the soup, when your mother says your name loudly enough to tear you from your stupor.

You swallow and wipe your mouth haphazardly with a napkin. “What?”

“Your father and I were just talking about your sister’s wedding.”

You raise your eyebrows, wondering if she’s actually being serious.

“No shit.”

Your father sets his cup down, glaring at you. “Language.”

“Sorry,” you say, though there’s no real meaning in the word.

Your sister has told practically every goddamn person in Hawkins that she’s getting married at the end of the month. Everyone is talking about her wedding. A wedding that you don’t give one singular fuck about.

She’s marrying her high school sweetheart, they’re moving into a sweet new house in the suburbs, blah blah blah. She’s doing the same shit every other peaked-in-high-school woman her age is doing. And you can’t be bothered to care.

Not only that, but you have to be a bridesmaid. You’re not very close with your sister, so her choosing another friend as her maid of honor really didn’t hurt you. Frankly, you would’ve been fine if she’d left you out of the bridal party completely.

None of this is really as spectacular as everyone’s made it out to be.

“Anyhow,” your mother begins, “you know she’s allowing her guests to bring a plus one.” She pauses, and you raise your eyebrows again, not understanding the need for dramatics here.

“Well, she asked if you were going to bring someone, and I told her that you were.”

You push back from the table, entirely too confused. “What?”

“Honey, don’t get so frantic. I didn’t think you would want to be alone, especially considering your attitude towards the entire function.”

You take a deep breath, pressing your fingers into your eyelids.

“I thought you could bring that boyfriend of yours. Actually, that’s what I told her. She’s already put in the name for a place card.”

“Mom, are you out of your mind?”

She gasps, taking a sip of her wine to gather herself. Your father chooses this moment to begin clearing up the table.

“I don’t have a boyfriend!” you exclaim.

Her eyes widen. “What do you mean? I told her you’d bring that boy, Steve. You spend an awful lot of time with him for him to not be your boyfriend.”

You feel like you’re choking on air. Like your dinner is going to come up if she doesn’t cut this out. “That’s because he’s my friend!”

“You’re always with him, sweetie. Much more than I ever was with any of my male friends.” She clearly doesn’t believe that he’s not your boyfriend. Like it’s impossible that he isn’t.

You shove past her and into the kitchen, utterly exasperated. Why are people making decisions for you? Why is your mother suddenly proclaiming to everyone that you’re in a relationship you didn’t even know you were in?

When you turn around from facing the sink, both of your parents are staring at you. “What now? Something else you’ve told the whole damn town about me?”

Your mother reaches out to you, but you brush her off. You’re a little too pissed for any sort of cooing right now.

“I’m sorry I assumed he was your boyfriend, honey. But you have to bring him, or else the family will ask questions and there will be an empty space next to you. Personally, I’d find that embarrassing.”

You push your way out of the kitchen, more than done with this situation. “You’ll be lucky if I even go to the damn wedding. And, personally, I wouldn’t go blabbing about things I’ve just assumed about my own daughter rather than just talking about them with her.”

When you turn down the hall, your father is rubbing his forehead, and your mother is looking at you like you should be grateful for her having assured you have company for the big event.

“This could be good for you!” she shouts, and your only response is the slam of your bedroom door.

In hindsight, of course the slam was childish, but you really can’t believe your mother.

You’ve never been so frustrated with her in your life. And yeah, you’ll go to the wedding, but what gave her the right to do that? This is your life. Not hers.

Normally, you would call Steve about something like this, but shit, you can’t.

Steve. As your boyfriend?

That’s too much for your brain to handle right now. You throw yourself on the bed and call it a night.

————

“So, let me get this straight,” Robin begins, holding up her hands so as to count off your main points. “Your mother just told everyone that you have a boyfriend, that this boyfriend is Steve, of all people, and that he’s your plus one to your bitchy sister’s wedding?”

The countertop is cold when you press your forehead against it. “Yes,” you whine.

You’d gotten up first thing this morning and head to Family Video, needing to spill your guts to the one and only person who would surely match your energy and try to help you handle the situation.

Your arms are laid out in front of you, hands dangling over the edge of the counter and reaching for Robin on the other side. She grabs hold of them and squeezes. “That’s one hell of a pickle you’re in. But! Lucky for you, I’m gonna help you figure it out.”

You squeeze her hands back, only to jerk your head up at an alarmingly fast rate. Robin cringes like you’re going to give yourself whiplash. You’ve just had an absolutely terrifying thought.

“Steve’s not working today, is he?”

Robin tries to think off the top of her head, but there are too many thoughts rambling around in there, so she’s quick to consult the schedule pinned to the wall behind her. She probably could’ve told you the times of each of his shifts if only you hadn’t asked.

“He won’t come in until this afternoon. Three-thirty, to be exact.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. “Thank fuck. I’m not ready to see him yet. He’s going to notice something’s wrong and then he’ll want to talk about it and then it’ll just be a big fat shit show.”

Robin props her chin up with her hand, elbow resting against the green countertop. “You know, maybe that’s a good thing. He already knows you so well that he’ll probably make a great boyfriend.”

“Robin, what?”

She’s plotting and you’ve never felt more afraid.

“Well, you can’t just not take him to the wedding after all of this, right? It would be ten times messier now that your mom has told all of Hawkins that Steve Harrington is your boyfriend. And you know he’ll agree to go, being ‘Mr. Nice Guy’ and whatnot. Besides, you’ve gotta admit that there’s chemistry between the two of you.”

You go to speak, but she holds a hand up to stop you.

“So you tell him about your little predicament, and maybe he can just act as your boyfriend for the night?” She smiles nervously, shoulders rising in slight fear of your reaction. “You two are best friends, no one’s bound to be the wiser.”

“Robin, are you suggesting that I just fake-date the man?”

She raises her hands in a don’t-shoot-the-messenger gesture. “What’s the harm in it? It’s just a one time thing. You go, you get it over with, and Steve will be there the whole time. It’ll be totally fine.”

You drag your hands down your face, peeking at her through your fingers. This is insane. This is fucking delusional. But it could work, couldn’t it?

A customer comes in, and you step to the side while Robin helps them at the counter. Chemistry? Maybe Robin’s right. Not that you’d ever tell her that.

Last Valentine’s, Steve showed up at your place after dark, flowers in hand, knowing full well that you hate the holiday. “I just wanted you to feel special,” he’d said. “And I love you and everything.” You’ve been saying that to each other for forever it seems. And you mean it. He’s your best friend. But now you’re wondering if maybe he means it in a different way. Or if that’s just what you want to think.

Steve doesn’t know that you pressed a few of the flowers to keep, or that you’ve saved the stubs from the movies you’ve seen together. You think about how he holds your hand on the way up the theater stairs, keeping you from tripping and spilling popcorn everywhere. How he offers to go out with you when you need to be away from home, not wanting to leave you alone. That he takes your bag from you the second he notices you adjusting it, straps digging into your shoulder.

Your hands start to sweat, and you feel like this could either go just as Robin’s told you, or it could go really fucking badly.

“Hello? Anyone home?” Robin’s voice breaks you out of your stupor. She’s waving her hand in front of your face.

“Listen honey, I can see your brain working from here. I know you’re coming up with every possible way that this could go wrong. Just talk to him! It might go really well. You never know.”

Robin boops you on the nose and starts to walk towards the staff room. It’s her way of signaling that you need to get your shit together.

“Good luck! I love you!”

You grab your keys and make for the door, flipping her off as you go. She only blows a kiss in response.

————

You’d been pacing your room when Steve called and offered to take you to the bookstore. Really he just wanted to spend time with you, and you needed to spill your guts. You spent an hour contemplating calling him, going over to see him, maybe even just cutting yourself off from him as a whole. In fact, cutting yourself off from the world had crossed your mind, but he’d since prevented that.

Now Steve hovers behind you while you wander down an aisle filled with mystery novels. None of them are catching your eye.

There’s a warmth behind you, and you look up to see Steve. He reaches above your head, one hand on your waist, and pulls something down. He flips it around in his hands before holding it out to you. “What about this one?”

Surprisingly enough it does sound vaguely interesting. “You have to read it after I do.”

He grins. “Yes ma'am.”

And we will read it. You know that he will because he’s done it before. He’s sat on your couch and blabbed about books to you, whining about this character, asking you a question about that plotline. Robin’s voice chirps in your head. Chemistry. Shit.

Steve takes the book back from you. He never lets you carry anything.

You walk further into the store, your feet carrying you to the same places they always do. You end up in a quiet corner, and your heart rate picks up. Not telling him is only hurting you more. You take a deep breath.

“Steve, I gotta tell you something.”

He crosses his arms and leans against the end cap. “Shoot.”

“You know how my sister is getting married?”

He snorts. “Yeah, I’d say I’m familiar with the event.”

You’d smile if it weren’t for the fact that you feel like you might puke at any moment. “Well she decided that guests could have a plus one.” Steve hates the way he warms up at that. At the fact that he wants you to take him. He nods, encouraging you to continue.

“Well my mother decided to tell everyone that I’d bring you. As my boyfriend.”

Steve coughs, and your head jerks in his direction. “Your boyfriend?”

You press your hands together. “Yeah. She said she assumed that we were dating because we’re always together, and when my sister asked if I’d be bringing someone, she just told her that it would be you.”

You make eye contact with Steve. His cheeks have gone red. “So naturally, she’s already had your nameplate printed. And now, what I’m saying is that I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend and go to my sister’s wedding with me.” The last part spills out of your mouth faster than you’d intended.

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, and you start to panic. It’s as if you’ve been sent into overdrive, like every sense in your body is on high alert. If this goes wrong, Robin’s ass is grass.

You back into the corner of the aisle, book spines pressing into your back. “I realize I said I need you to do this, but I should have prefaced it by saying that of course you don’t have to, and I don’t expect you to–”

“I’ll do it.”

Steve pushes his hair back from his forehead.

“What?”

“I said I’ll do it. I don’t mind.”

“Steve, are you sure?”

He’s moving into your personal space bubble, hands grasping for your arms where you’ve tucked them behind your back. He pulls them out, hands sliding down your forearms until he’s got your hands in his. His palms are warm, and you can’t help but notice how big his hands are. There’s a ring on his pinky finger too, and it takes you by surprise, considering he’s not usually one for jewelry. You’ll have to ask him about it later, assuming you survive this.

“I’m sure. I’m not just going to let you show up after your mom did all that shit. She’s more trouble than she’s worth, if you ask me. But I promise, I don’t mind. I’ll go and be your boyfriend. I don’t know how good I’ll be, but hey…we’ll see.”

You pull your hand away to smack him on the arm. He winces like you’ve brutally wounded him.

“Don’t you dare say that, Steven. You’d make an excellent fake boyfriend. And a kickass real one. Don’t let me hear that shit again.”

You let go of him and start to walk away.

Steve chuckles. “Or what?”

“Or I’ll beat your ass, Harrington. And you’d definitely lose that one.”

He catches up to you and his hands find your waist again, though he struggles to hold on when you’re continually moving.

“Hey,” he pouts, his bottom lip jutting out at you. “Not fair.”

You look back up at him and reach up to pat his cheek. It’s warmer than you’d expected, and still all rosy. “Sorry, sorry.”

“That’s not very nice of a fake girlfriend.”

You snort. “Ha! I guess my fake girlfriend skills aren’t up to the great Steve Harrington’s standards.”

“You’re being so mean to me today.” He rests his chin on your shoulder while you pick through a sale pile.

“Only yanking your chain, dearest.”

He chuckles, and you can feel his breath against your neck.

You start to wonder if maybe everyone has a point. You do spend the majority of your time with Steve, and you are touchy, but that’s just the kind of person Steve is. You hadn’t realized how much you enjoyed physical touch from another person, even when it’s the most mundane action, until him. Robin is the same way, always holding your hands or leaning on you. They’re spoiling you.

But the more you think about it, the more you realize that you’ve started to crave Steve’s touch when he’s not around. At night when you feel lonely, when you’re staring at the ceiling and letting your thoughts engulf you, you wish he was there to give you a hug. You wish he was there when you’re eating lunch alone and his leg isn’t pressed against yours under the table. You miss the warmth and the weight of him beside you on the couch. It’s like there’s a part of your brain that’s reserved for him, and suddenly you’re worried that this fake dating Steve thing might be the worst decision you’ve ever made.

————

“Is this really necessary?”

“Yes, and I’m going to leave this with you until the masquerade is complete so that both of you morons have a reminder of your agreement.”

Robin sits on Steve’s couch, white board in hand. She’s brought way too many markers with her. She decided it would be best if you and Steve had a list of things that are acceptable for your temporary fake romance. She also insisted she be moderator.

“Masquerade? Is that really what we’re calling this?” Steve looks at you.

“No. It’s not.”

“Both of you! Focus!” Robin uncaps a marker and throws the lid at Steve. He catches it. “Now, what kinds of things are okay to do during this little performance? I’m talking, hugging, handholding, kissing, the lot of it. Now shoot.”

Steve looks at you again. “What do you think? This is your family that we’ll be around.”

Your knee starts to bounce.

The majority of your little charade will be during the reception, and having to stand during the ceremony is saving you much more trouble than you’d realized. You never thought you’d be grateful to be a bridesmaid. But now there’s the added pressure of knowing Steve will be watching you then, that your family will be watching the both of you afterwards.

Steve catches your shaking leg and is quick to put a hand out to steady you. He knows you’re nervous.

“See? That’s good. Believable.” Robin is staring at the two of you, or more specifically, at where Steve’s hand rests on your knee.

Steve pulls his hand back. “Okay, so we can hold hands?” you say, questioning yourself already. “You can touch me, like that or like you usually do.”

“I can do that. Hands, arms, back. That alright?”

You start to warm up. “Yeah, that works. What about you? I don’t want to be too handsy or anything but it might be weird if I don’t touch you at all.”

Steve sits back in his chair while Robin scribbles away, her bulletpoints little stars. There are two sides, one for each of you.

“All of that is fine with me too. I really don’t mind, and I think you know I like physical affection. But you know when you like, hang on my arm sometimes? I really like that.”

Robin smiles brilliantly. “That’s good! Makes you look super lovey-dovey.” She jots it down under Steve’s name.

You try not to let it show, but Steve’s words are running rampant in your head. I really like that. He does? You hadn’t realized it before.

“What else?” Robin asks. “Kissing? How do we feel about that?”

“Uh—I hadn’t really thought about it,” you tell her. And you hadn’t. The thought of Steve kissing you at all, other than the top of your head like he’s done before, makes you feel like your heart has just dropped out of your ass. “But I suppose it’d be weird if we didn’t at all, you know?”

You’re looking at Steve, hoping he’ll feel the same way, searching for some sort of consolation.

“No, yeah, that’s a good point.” He’s quiet for a moment before continuing, “What about your cheeks and forehead and stuff? Maybe the face is fair game? And you can do the same for me.”

You wipe your palms across your thighs. Kissing Steve. Steve kissing you. You’re losing your shit.

“Yeah, that’s totally fine. That works.” You’re amazed that you’ve even managed to get the words out.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, you know?” Steve’s expression is soft. You know he’s being serious with you.

“I know. And I don’t want to make you feel that way either. I want this to be a perfectly comfortable evening.”

“And I’m sure it will be!” Robin claps her hands together, setting her board down against the couch cushions beside her.

She stands abruptly. “Basically you’re just behaving like you normally do, but with a little more hands-on action, you know?”

Steve quirks a brow, taking a furtive glance at you. “What do you mean, like we normally do?”

Robin moves towards her best friend and crouches, taking his hands in hers. “Uh…what are you doing?”

“Listen, little Stevie, you’re a touchy-feely kind of guy, and you’re always all over the lovely lady to our left. You can’t deny that.”

“I mean—yeah.”

Robin nods her head. Steve struggles to keep eye contact with her, knowing you’re watching the interaction.

“And you’ve rubbed off on her! She wasn’t really like this before you, Harrington.”

This time he jerks his head towards you. “Really?”

He’s thinking about your hugs, how you wrap your arms around his waist and squeeze. About how you always take his hand when he offers it, or how you'll toss a leg over his on the couch. Any other sort of behavior would feel strange.

You feel yourself go all warm. Feel your chest squeeze. You’re forgetting how to breathe. She’s completely right. Steve has brought out a side of you that you swore you didn’t have. The side that longs for affection. Maybe more.

You nod your head at him.

“Yeah,” Robin says, “Most I’d get out of her was some hand holding before you came around.”

She releases Steve from her grasp and rises once again.

“But my point is, you two are going to make a fantastic fake couple. And maybe even an excellent real one.”

Steve face palms. “Robin.”

“Sorry, sorry! Make sure to take pictures for me, alright? I’ll be so sad to miss this happening in person.”

Steve stands, grabbing Robin’s bag for her. “Yep. Alright. See you later, Rob.”

He looks at you with what you’re quite positive is fear in his eyes. He leads her to the door, and you can’t help but chuckle, even if you’re nervous as shit, as he reassures her that there will be pictures, and that you’ll tell her all about it.

————

“Just hang it up on the doorframe, and then you can hold stuff up to it.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

You sit cross legged in the center of Steve’s bed, watching him rummage through his closet. He’s going to knock your dress on the floor if he doesn’t quit his frenzy.

You’d told him it wasn’t necessary that he coordinate his outfit with yours, but he insisted, so you brought your dress over for him to see. Steve has a feeling that when he sees you in it he’s going to lose his shit, not that he can tell you that.

“You know, I never thought these would be useful. But I guess your asshole dad dragging you to business events pays off sometimes.”

Steve lifts a bunch of hangers from the rack and pulls them out of his closet, setting them on the bed beside you.

“Fancy,” you say, smirking.

He rubs his hand over his chin, the other braced against his hip. “Yeah.”

You can tell he’s a little frazzled at this. The reminder of dressing himself up to be paraded around by his father—a father who doesn’t spare Steve a second when not in the public eye.

You hate that you’ve made him dig up all these memories.

“They all fit okay?” you question.

He nods, that one insistent lock of hair slipping free. He pushes it back before you have the chance to.

You slide off the side of the bed and stand. You gesture for him to sit and that gets a smile out of him.

After he’s settled, you lift each suit up one by one, seeing which matches the blue of your dress best. You’re only glad that your sister picked a nice shade: a dark, rich midnight blue. The kind you’d be able to spot from far off in a department store and need to take a look.

You get to a sort of soft gray one, and Steve stops you. You hook it up on the doorframe beside your dress.

“I think that looks nice, yeah?”

You walk backwards until your spine meets Steve’s knees. You brace yourself, hands on his calves. His chin meets the top of your head because of how high up the bed is.

“I like it a lot, Harrington.”

He snorts, and you can feel the puff of air against your scalp. He’s warm, his presence all around you. His cologne, maybe his shampoo if you let yourself fall in between his legs. But you don’t. You stand.

“Looks pretty solid to me,” you tell him, though your grin falters just slightly enough for him to catch it.

He puts a gentle hand on your cheek, making sure you keep your eyes locked on his.

“Hey. It’s gonna be great, okay? You’re going to kill it in that dress. Probably kill me, actually,” he laughs. “We’ll handle it together, alright?”

“Alright, Steven.” You’re trying not to over-analyze that comment. This is not the time to get sweaty.

He stands up, hand sliding down from your cheek to cover your collarbones. You wrap your arms around his back on instinct, and you swear you see him blush as he moves to encircle you in his own.

“Does being your fake boyfriend mean your incessant picking has only gotten worse?”

You rest your forehead against his chest. You can hear the steady thump of his heartbeat. You think about how nice it might be to do this all the time. What it might be like if he weren’t your fake boyfriend, but your real one.

“Mhm,” you mumble. “I plan on continuing it, too.”

Steve’s hands run up and down your back.

“I look forward to it,” he whispers. There’s a part of you that knows he means it.

————

Steve hasn’t stopped looking at you since you met him at the door to the wedding venue.

You’d run down, more than happy to have company that wasn’t your sister's bitchy bridal party.

He stands with you now, waiting until he’s allowed to take his seat, and you can feel his eyes burning into you.

Not that you’re any better than he is.

His suit fits him just right, and every time he pushes his hair around, you watch his shoulders move under his jacket. It’s driving you insane. And he’s wearing that fucking ring again. Except this time, there’s also one on the middle finger of his opposite hand.

The sun is hitting him just right, turning his eyes this amber color. It’s mesmerizing. You notice then that his tie is the same blue as your dress.

“Steve?”

“Hm?”

“Did you have that? Just lying around?”

He follows your gaze to his chest. No, he absolutely didn’t. He ran out and picked one up in a shade as close as he could get it to yours. Wearing something that felt like a piece of you had his mind abuzz. Abuzz with you.

It’s the same way he feels about these rings Robin bought him. She said you were into them, always talking about Steve’s hands or something. He’s started to like them, but really it’s for you. Most things are.

“Yeah. I found it in a drawer.”

Robin would slap him if she were here. He doesn’t know why he lies, but he does. And then you’re blushing and he’s got to sit down. He squeezes your hand one last time, an encouraging gesture, but one that has so much more buried beneath it.

The ceremony thankfully goes quickly for you, and you’re grateful, hating having to stand up there like you give a shit, like your sister is some saint.

For Steve, it’s the slowest wedding he’s ever been to. You look so fucking gorgeous and he can’t keep it together. He barely even pays attention to the wedding, too busy looking at you. The way your indifference shows on your face, even if you know you’ll hear about it later. The way your hands wrap around the little bouquet you’ve been given. The way the setting sun sets your skin alight, and he thinks that you might truly be the death of him.

When the ceremony has concluded, when Steve is looking for you in the reception hall, he realizes he has to tell you so. You deserve to know how gorgeous you are. He’s beating himself up for having said you looked ‘great,’ and that was all.

You spot him first, and rush to him like you had before, anxious to be near him.

“My mother is looking for me,” you tell him.

“You want to get some air?” His hand finds the small of your back, already leading you away from the crowd and just outside the doors.

“You’re such a good fake boyfriend.”

You suck in a breath of cool air, shake your hands out.

Steve smirks, hands moving up to massage at your shoulders before he even has a chance to give the action a second thought. “Just knew you’d like to get away is all.”

Knew.

The word hits you and you feel like you’ve been slapped. Goddammit, Robin. She’s been in your head all day, and you’ve done nothing but pick up on the little things Steve does for you, the things he seems to know about you, that make him so much more than just a best friend.

You’re fucked.

“Thank you, Steve. For that, and for coming to this. It means a lot to me.”

“Don’t sweat it. I’d do it again.”

He’s looking at you with such fondness, and you have a feeling he wants to say more. You grab hold of one of his wrists, locking your eyes with his in hopes that it will communicate the message. Go ahead.

He exhales. This sort of thing used to be so easy for him, but it’s never been that way with you. He knows it’s because you aren’t just some chick he wants to take out. You’re everything. And he’s fumbling for words.

“I, uh, I wanted to tell you that…” You squeeze his wrist, and he continues, albeit with a shaky voice. “I wanted to tell you that you look beautiful.”

A smile creeps up and onto your face before you can stop it.

“I mean, you always look beautiful, b-but tonight you’re just—stunning. Like, totally breathtaking. Don’t let anyone hear this, but I’d even say you look better than the bride.”

You let out a laugh then, the kind that comes straight from your belly, rich and sickly sweet. It makes Steve laugh, too. He can’t believe you. You’re unbelievable.

“Sorry, Steve, I just–fuck that was so funny.” You straighten up, putting your serious face back on. “Thank you for saying that. I really appreciate it.”

“I’m serious, you know. You’re gorgeous.” He presses a kiss to your forehead, lips warm and plush against your skin.

You go all warm and fuzzy inside. “Thank you, Stevie.”

He smacks another kiss to your cheek, just because he can.

“You look pretty too, you know.”

Steve blushes at your comment, and it’s at this very moment that your mother’s voice rings out, “Sweetie! Come in here, people want to see you!”

Fear flashes across your face, any trace of the sweet flirtiness there seconds before having vanished.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Steve says, watching you gesture towards your mother, telling her you’re on your way. “Let’s do this, yeah?”

You make eye contact with him, and he grabs hold of your hand, weaving his fingers between yours. “Yeah.”

————

“So, how’d the two of you meet?”

You’re surrounded by a crowd of women, some are your family–your mother and sister–some women you’re not even sure you know.

“School.” Steve saves you from having to speak first. “We went to high school together, but we met through a mutual friend.”

Your mother quirks a brow. “Robin,” you tell her.

“Oh! What a lovely young lady.”

Steve snorts and you slap him on the back. Not that anyone could’ve seen it with how close he’s got you pressed to his side. “Yep,” Steve coughs, “She’s great.”

He presses a kiss to the top of your head, hoping it’ll give him a moment to suppress his smile. Your sister steps away from her friends, catching the action.

“So, Steve, does she treat you okay? I know my sister can be a bit frantic sometimes.” You watch your mother down the rest of her wine, and you know she’s hoping nothing breaks out between the two of you like it has plenty of times before.

Steve’s arm wraps more firmly around you, his hand coming to rest on your hip. Everyone has their eyes locked on you, waiting, hoping that Steve will spill some sort of secret that they can spread throughout Hawkins like wildfire. Nothing beats good gossip around here.

He squeezes your hip, and for a split second you think the gesture might be possessive. Protective, even.

“She does. Your sister is considerate and thoughtful, and she’s the best woman I know. I’ve never felt more comfortable than I do with her. And if she’s ever frantic, it only helps her deal with me when I’m the same way.”

You feel like you could pass out. Because you know he meant every damn word of that. You know he isn’t lying.

Your sister looks between the two of you. “Well, I suppose that’s good to hear.” Her smile is nothing but insincere when she walks off to greet another wedding guest.

One of your aunts swoops in, and Steve feels you clutch his side a little harder. He has a feeling you’re about to be ridiculed.

“Such a lovely day, isn’t it? You two ever think about tying the knot?”

Steve pinks and your hand slips under his suit jacket, clutching at the fabric of his shirt instead. Is this really the time?

“No,” you pipe up. “I haven’t really given it much thought.”

The woman frowns at you. “Well, isn’t that silly? You better get around to it sooner than later, honey. Take after your big sister. You won’t be young forever.”

You go to speak, but Steve’s already begun. “I’m sorry, but she doesn’t have to get married on anyone else’s terms. Hell, she doesn’t have to get married at all, and I can say that in utmost confidence. Maybe back off, okay?”

Your aunt looks absolutely scandalized, as if she cannot bear to accept what just happened to her.

Steve starts to lead you away from the group. “Come on, baby.”

Baby.

Steve called you ‘baby.’

You don’t have time to analyze that though with the way he’s escorting you back outside. He parks you on a bench and starts to pace in front of you.

“I can see why you didn’t want to do this now. Jesus, are they always like that? I thought my dad’s colleagues were dicks, but my god.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Wait—can you call judgmental ladies dicks?”

You snort and bury your face in your hands. “Yes, Steve, I think so.” It comes out muffled, but he hears it all the same.

When you look up, Steve is staring at you, and he’s much closer than he had been. He starts to say something, but both your mother and sister have shown up, looking for you.

“Sweetie! What are you doing out here?” Your mother looks frazzled, and maybe a little tipsy. You knew your sister would be a bitch on her wedding day, but apparently your mother hadn’t yet realized.

“Escaping the mob.”

“Your aunt isn’t entirely pleased with your behavior, I’ve been told.”

You stand up then. “Honestly, mom, I don’t really give a shit. I came to this wedding, like you told me to. I brought, Steve, like you told me to. And I just don’t care anymore. I’m sick of your bullshit.”

She looks aghast, way more than your aunt had.

You look at your sister, who’s clearly hoping to see you fuck up.

“Congratulations on fucking yourself over. You’ll have a severely depressing marriage.”

“C’mon, Steve.”

He takes your hand, and he can’t help but giggle as he follows you out.

————

“Sweetheart? You comin’?”

You’ve stopped halfway up Steve’s stairs, a far off look in your eyes. He’d brought you back to his place to stay the night, and now that you’re here, it’s like every thought you’ve had about him is fit to burst. This cannot just be a tonight situation. You can’t let this end here.

You drop your dress where you’d been holding it up to prevent yourself from tripping.

“Maybe Robin’s right. About the chemistry.”

Steve’s hands go to his hips. He’s got no idea what you’re on about, but the way you’re looking at him is enough to have his heart rate kicking up a notch. “Chemistry?”

“Yeah. She pointed it out. And she said we’d make a fantastic couple, remember?”

He blushes. He hopes this is going where he thinks it is. Tonight has made him realize how much more you are to him than just a friend. He wants you all the time. “Yeah, I remember.”

Your heart is pounding and you feel like you can’t really breathe, but if you don’t say this now, you’re not sure you ever will.

“Steve?”

“Yeah?” He’s never been so stressed in his life. He’s actually starting to sweat.

You exhale and push the words out. “I don’t want you to be my fake boyfriend. I want you to be my real one.”

He coughs, chokes really, and you move up the stairs towards him to make sure he’s okay and not actually sick over the matter.

“Are you sure?” he asks, surprising himself with the ability to speak considering how raw his throat feels.

“Wouldn’t have said so if I felt otherwise, Harrington.”

There she is, he thinks. You really want him. Just like he does you. He can’t believe it.

“Again with the picking. You’re so mean to me.”

You smirk, your hands finding his sides again. You seem to have some attachment to them, and Steve wonders if it’s because you know there are scars underneath. If you’re telling him more than what you can bear to say. Giving him a glimpse of all you have to offer him, all the love you might hope to share.

“I’ll show you mean, you little shit.”

You press your lips against his before you can second guess yourself, before you let that little voice win.

Steve hums in surprise, but it’s clear he’s not upset by the gesture with the way he responds to your touch. His hands find your neck, thumbs stroking over your cheeks.

He’s kissing you back, and fuck if he’s not trying to tell you everything he’s been feeling.

When you pull away for air, Steve’s too greedy to let you go. He pecks your lips once, twice more, and when he really can’t breathe, he peppers your face instead. Now that you’ve given him the chance, he seriously can’t get enough of you.

“Damn.”

You laugh, and push that strand of hair back where it goes, this time getting to it before he can.

You take Steve’s wrist in your hand. It’s late. You hadn’t realized how worn out you were, but you are.

“Can we go to sleep?” you ask, searching his brown eyes. His lashes are unfairly long, but you’ll have to berate him about it later.

“Do I get another one of those before bed?” He’s already hauling you up the stairs, wanting you settled.

“If you’re good.”

————

“So when did it happen?” Robin’s voice is almost accusatory.

“What?”

You’re standing close enough to Steve to ensure that you can hear Robin on the other side.

“When did this love confession take place?”

“That’s not what it was—”

“Just tell me when, dingus!”

“Last night, after we got home. She told me she didn’t want it to be fake anymore.”

“Shit!”

Steve rolls his eyes. You fuss with the belt loops on his jeans, trying to figure out what she’s been up to. “What did you do?” he asks.

“I owe Dustin twenty.”

“You bet on us?” Your voice is loud enough that she hears it, and you know she’s cringing even if you can’t see it.

“Maybe? Yes. I bet that you’d give up the act later than that, that you two would be cowards about it. Figured you’d both wallow in self pity for a while before you just came out and said how you feel.”

Steve looks at you, and mouths: Are you hearing this?

Robin keeps going. “Dustin said you’d come to your senses quicker than that. He bet on the wedding day specifically. Goddamnit!”

You take the phone from Steve, and his forehead meets your shoulder. You can feel the way he shakes with laughter.

“Thanks for having so much faith in us, Rob.”

She chuckles. “What? You’re both extremely good at lying to yourselves. I expected this to be much more dramatic.”

“Mhm,” you start, a plan forming in your mind. Steve can almost feel it. “Hey, Robin?”

“Yes?”

“Just for that, I’m calling in sick for Steve today. That shift is all yours.”

“No. Nononono—”

You hang up the phone. That means there won’t be the buffer that is Steve Harrington to prevent Robin having to interact with Keith. She’ll be stuck with him all evening.

“That was just cruel,” Steve laughs.

You cross your arms. “Oh, so you wanna go in then?”

He smiles at you and holds his arms out. You move into the circle of them. His hands find your waist and squeeze. “No, I didn’t say that. I haven’t had a day off in months.”

“So quit whining.”

“See? I’ve only been your real boyfriend for like, a matter of hours, and you’re still being so mean to me.”

You lean forward and press a sweet kiss to his lips. It seems to appease him.

“Was that mean?”

“Not at all.”

You grin and kiss the corner of his mouth.

“Mean and a tease. Wow.”

You let out a breath of a laugh. “Only for you, Stevie.”

He takes your face in his hands, fingers pushing gently into your skin.

“Damn right.”

————

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