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crappymixtape · 1 year

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come back to me • part one

PART TWO HERE // after steve gets his heart broken by nancy, tommy dares him to try something different as a rebound, someone who isn’t his type at all, and at first he’s doing it to prove a point, but when the upside down gets involved he realizes just how he really feels • 18+ | ( 5.4k – violence / upside down, lots of angst, some fluff, enemies to lovers-ish, steve x reader, king!steve x reader ) REQUEST @carinacassiopeiae → king!steve, reformed!king steve x reader

C O M E B A C K T O M E 🎶 man on the moon - delacey

“C’mon man, I’m sick of your ass moping around. She’s with Byers now and there are plenty of other bitches in the sea.”

Tommy leaned against the cold brick of the gym, wind whipping through the little alley created by the gap in the buildings, a cigarette wedged between his lips. Taking a drag he blew the smoke off over his shoulder and shook his head.

“Listen, you just need a rebound. Right? Get the bad taste outta your mouth–”

“Watch it,” Steve snapped, kicking the toe of his sneaker into the gravel and Tommy just snickered.

“So fucking sensitive,” Tommy pouted at Steve, all of it so condescending and Steve shot the other boy a glare through the long sweep of his lashes, hands curling into fists at his sides.

“Whatever, can you just get to the point? Out here in the freezing ass cold instead of eating, m’hungry as hell.”

“Awh. Poor, Stevie."

"Shut up."

"Alright, I got a proposition for you. Little game, huh?” Tommy lifted his brows, tongue flicking out to run across his lips. “A dare, think you’re up for it?” He took another drag of his cigarette before offering it over to Steve who took it begrudgingly if only for a little warmth.

“I’m not a pussy,” Steve snarked and Tommy laughed. Putting the cigarette to his lips, Steve took a pull and held the smoke in lungs for a minute just to feel it burn before blowing it into Tommy’s face.

“No one said you were, Harrington,” he reached out to grab the snub of what was left pinched between Steve’s fingers and threw it the ground, grinding it out with his heel. Sucking on his teeth, the smile on Tommy’s face pulled into a wicked grin and Steve’s stomach turned. “I dare you to get a freak to catch feelings for you,” his tone was smooth like silk, but sharp as glass underneath and Steve huffed a laugh.

“Fuck off.”

“I’m serious, Harrington! Unless you think you’re losing your grip on shit, King Steve,” Tommy sneered and leaned forward to shove Steve’s shoulder, goading him, pushing him.

“Christ, Tommy. I can fuckin' do it,” Steve pushed him back, a scowl twisting across his lips, readjusting his coat.

“Atta boy! Let’s see…” Tommy walked to the edge of the alley, peeking out at the tables scattered across the quad, searching for a target.

Loosing a sigh, Steve ran his hands through his hair while he waited for Tommy. He knew it was over with Nancy, but it didn’t make it hurt any less and he could hear her in his head every time he closed his eyes.

No you! You’re bullshit!

And he knew she was right. He was bullshit. King Steve, popularity, the basketball team, it was all bullshit and it was slipping between his fingers like sand.

After everything that had happened in Jonathan’s living room, the monsters, Barb, whatever the hell this Upside Down was, Steve began to see that Nancy was right and this was the last thing he wanted. He projected bravado, confidence, control, but under it all he was anxious and unhappy. Sad.

“Ah hah! Yes, look at this shit,” Tommy turned back to Steve and grabbed his arm, pulling him to the opening between the buildings, “Right there.”

Shrugging out of Tommy’s grip, Steve followed the line of Tommy’s finger to see who was sitting on the other end of it – you.

It was cold as you tucked your jacket into you a little closer, a breeze moved through the quad, your scarf wrapped cozy around your neck and knit hat working overtime to keep your curls contained. You probably should’ve been like everyone else, staying in the cafeteria to eat, but all the stupid popular kids were in there and all they liked to do was cat call and be fucking assholes. So. You were out in the cold, eating your sandwich and writing a few lines down in your notebook, planning on putting them to music once you were home.

Your best friend Robin was in the gym, practicing with the rest of the band for the homecoming game on Friday and Eddie was where ever the hell he’d skipped class for leaving you to eat alone. Which was fine honestly, but it made the feeling of someone looking at you even more obvious. Glancing over your shoulder you didn’t see anyone right away, but the crunch of gravel to your left pulled your gaze and you caught two figures between the buildings.

“Shit,” Steve hissed, ducking back behind the brick as Tommy piled after him in a fit of laughter.

“Fuck yeah, it’s perfect, that’s the one,” Tommy snickered, shoving Steve into the side of the building and punching his shoulder, “If you can’t close the deal by homecoming you owe me twenty bucks and a six-pack.”

“Man, screw you,” Steve dug his shoulder into Tommy, dragging another peel of laughter from the freckle-faced boy. His lips were still pulled taut in a scowl, but he stuck a hand out anyway, “Deal.”

“You’re damn right it is,” and the grin that snaked across Tommy’s face then made Steve regret everything he’d just agreed to, but hell maybe this was his ticket back to normal and maybe he wasn’t bullshit.

Kicking your locker shut with the toe of your shoe, you crouched down to cram your history book in with your binder and all the other shit that had somehow managed to pile up in your bag. Walkman, a few caseless cassettes, pens, pencils, guitar picks, and a crushed up granola bar that probably needed to just get thrown away, but you were going to be late to Click’s class if you didn’t hurry the hell up.

Yanking the zipper closed you stood to take off down the hallway, but ran smack into something, someone, solid.

“Fuck,” you sucked in a sharp gasp, hands flying up to grab hold of something to steady yourself, only to find that thing was Steve Harrington’s sweater.

“Shit, princess. Y’okay?” the wide expanse of his hand had grabbed hold at your waist, steady and firm. When you glanced up at him your stomach flipped over uncomfortably, his eyes all honeyed, hazy and warm like caramel. God, you hated how pretty he was.

“Princess?” your brows tugged together in annoyance as you swallowed thickly. Irritation flickering in your chest, frustrated at the way you fumbled under his gaze and how it made you feel, but then he was giving you a smug grin. King Steve. And your snark leapt back to life. “What’s your obsession with monarchy?” your tone was sharp, full of wit, much faster than he was and you watched as his lips parted, grin flickering with surprise.

“Someone’s gotta keep shit in order around here,” he leaned casually against the lockers then, all full of bravado and blocking your path down the hallway and the eye roll you gave him would’ve knocked anyone else on their ass. “Make a habit of running people over or…?” he quirked a brow at you, playful. Was he flirting? And you felt your lips firm into a line.

“You know, the fact that you have a watch and don’t use it is ridiculous. We’re about to be late, genius,” you shouldered past him and when he realized his usual act hadn’t hooked you, he turned on his heel to catch up, Tommy’s bet taunting him at the back of his mind.

“Wait, late for what?” even with your back to him you could hear Steve was flustered and a grin of your own tugged up at the corners of your lips.

“The test? Revolutionary War?” you threw your words over your shoulder, not bothering to slow down and wait for him, and it was only when his hand snagged yours that you stopped.

“There’s a test today?” his eyes were a bit wild and you wanted to make fun of him, tease him a little, but the feeling of his fingers squeezing yours made your heart flutter in your chest. Felt like a hummingbird trapped in a cage, frantically looking for escape.

“Y-yeah,” you stuttered, quickly pulling your hand from his to readjust your backpack, “What’s the problem?”

Steve hesitated, his tongue flicking out to run across his lips, trying to be quick on his feet, but failing. “Nothing, just–” he jammed his hands into his pockets and took a few steps backwards, “–just tell Click I went home. Not feeling good.”

“Are you serious? You were just–”

“Please? I’ll make it up to you. Meet me at the diner after school,” and he didn’t even give you the chance to ask him what the hell that meant or where he was going. He just turned and jogged to the double door exit back by your locker and out into the quad.

Meet him at the diner? As if ‘King Steve’ talking to you of all people wasn’t weird enough, now he didn’t care if people saw him with you in public? Looping your thumbs under the straps of your bag you shook your head and hurried down the hallway and into class.

“What’ll it be hon?” the waitress at the diner flipped her notepad open, cat-eye glasses sliding down her nose as she gave you a small smile.

“Uhm,” you came here often enough with Robin and Eddie to know the menu like the back of your hand, but you couldn’t stop watching the door for Steve and now her question had your heart racing, hands clammy, nervous. Pulling your eyes from the door you looked up at her, fingers twisted together in your lap, “Just fries please. And a chocolate shake?”

“Sure thing,” she didn’t bother writing anything down and hesitated a moment longer, watching as you looked back at the door again, “Will anyone be joining you?”

Will anyone be joining you?

Your stomach lurched and you willed yourself to get your shit together. “Yeah. Yeah he’ll be here soon–” the clock on the wall read 4:01 and you bit your lower lip between your teeth, “–I think.”

She gave you another smile and tapped the table with her long, plastic nails, “Alright, sweetie. That’s okay. He can order whenever he gets here.”

If he gets here.

You shook your head, grumbling under your breath about what kind of idiot would believe Steve fucking Harrington would actually show up to hang out with you after school. Turning to dig in your bag you scrounged up a few wadded up dollar bills to pay for what you’d ordered.

You weren’t going to wait, weren’t going to be made a fool by some asshole jock, but just as your hand went slap the money on the table your eyes caught a pair of familiar dirty Blazers standing on the checkered tile floor next to you.

“Shit. Hey, sorry. I had…I had to help somebody really quick,” Steve fumbled over his words and when you dragged your eyes up to look at him his expression matched his tone. Scattered. Hair wild and sticking up at the sides. He roughed a hand over his face and took a quick glance out the window.

You followed his gaze and saw a familiar looking curly haired boy take off on a bike down the street, a giant ass walkie talkie sticking out of his backpack.

“Help somebody?” you turned back to look up expectantly at Steve and he jammed his tongue into his cheek, thinking.

“Yea–oh. Did you already eat?” his eyes flicked down to the cash in your hand and you felt your cheeks grow hot.

Burying your face into your bag to try and hide your embarrassment, you shoved the money back into the front pocket trying to think of an excuse, but when he finally sat down you felt your nerves shift to frustration.

“No. I didn’t. But honestly? I didn’t think you were gonna show up,” you turned back to look at him, not shying away at all, chin tilted up in defense of yourself and his expression wilted. Made you almost feel bad, but you stuck to your guns. “What d’you want from me anyway, Harrington? I’m not exactly cheerleader material and I’m definitely not Nancy Wheeler.”

His face looked like you’d punched him and guilt squeezed your chest tight. This wasn’t the King Steve you’d seen at parties or around the hallways. The one who would shotgun a beer. The one who’d pick up girls in the hallway and spin them around in fits of giggles. The Steve who made fun of your friends and threw food at the ‘freaks’ in the cafeteria. This was someone different and when he dropped his gaze to the table in almost-shame you suddenly felt like the asshole.

“I dunno, maybe this was a bad idea,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair as he shoved himself back out of the booth and then it was your turn to ask him to wait.

“C’mon, you’re here for something,” your tone landed somewhere between taunting and pleading, but it was enough to make him stop for a second, long enough that the waitress came back and he awkwardly plopped back down onto the red plastic bench.

“Anything for you, hon?”

“Uh, yeah. Sure. Can I just–” Steve grabbed a menu and turned it over twice, not actually reading it, frazzled and caught off-guard, “–just a milkshake. Strawberry. Thanks.”

“Sure thing, same tab?”

Your eyes flicked up to look at Steve. It was only the same tab if you were on a date, right?

“No,” you snapped.

“Yes,” Steve was louder and the waitress gave you both a look before she walked away and you turned to glare at the boy sitting across from you.

“Spill,” you said, lips twisted into a scowl, obvious you weren’t fucking around.

He shifted nervously in his seat, hand moving to rub at the back of his neck until he finally pulled his eyes up from the table to look at you. “You’re, like, top of the class,” he stuttered, “Best grades in Click’s.”

“And?”

“And–” he drug the word out, working through things and you almost cut him off but he recovered, “–and I need help. Studying.”

“You. Steve Harrington. Need help studying. From me?”

He knew it was a shitty line, but now that it was out he leaned into it. Hard. “Yeah. Yeah, I can’t ask any of my friends, they’re worse than I am and Nancy–” he paused, realizing what he was about to say, and tossed his gaze off over toward the kitchen just to avoid the look you gave him.

Nancy. Nancy Wheeler. His ex-girlfriend. The one who always helped him study and probably the only reason he was passing some of his classes, but you knew that had been a messy break up. Something about her going home with Jonathan Byers after a Halloween party and now she was with him and not Steve. A lot of the kids in your grade heard she cheated, Tommy Hagan had started that one, but Steve was quick to shut it down. Insistent that the breakup had been mutual. Being a decent human being for once.

A small sigh pushed its way through your lips as you looked at him, King Steve still no where to be found and for whatever reason you believed him.

“Fine,” you mumbled, picking at the chipped nail polish on your fingers and that pulled his eyes back to you.

“Really?”

“Keep your pants on,” you snarked, but he was smiling at you and dammit you couldn’t help the smile creeping across you own lips and you looked down at your lap to hide it.

“Thought you were gonna shut me down there for a minute, princess,” he said, confidence back in full swing as he leaned back against the booth and you just couldn’t have that.

“Still could,” wiped the grin off his face and you laughed. “Kidding. God, you guys dish it, but you really can’t take it, can you.”

He shook his head, smile coming back hesitantly, but he was looking at you. Really looking at you and it made your stomach flip again and your cheeks grew warm. No one looked at you like that, especially not anyone like him, and thank god the waitress came back with your food because you thought you might very well float away.

“Fries and a couple of shakes, loves,” the waitress placed your things on the table with another little knowing smile before leaving the two of you alone.

It was quiet for a while as you both sipped your milkshakes, fingers dipping into whipped cream and picking at the cherries on top. You were the first one to make any kind of movement toward the other, pushing your tray of fries toward him in a silent invitation and he took it with a little smile. A quiet thank you and it was enough to push him back to bold.

“So, maybe I’ll come by your place tomorrow? Like, six or something?” he dipped a fry in ketchup and shoved the whole thing in his mouth before taking another drink of his shake.

“Six? Isn’t that kind of–”

“Late?” he finished, brows lifted in question, and then he shook his head, “Nah. I mean. Not for me. D’you go to bed at seven or what?” You fixed him with a look and he put his hands up in surrender.

“I don’t go to bed at seven, I just–” you paused, cheeks warming again, realizing you were about to share something actually personal about yourself and you cleared your throat to try again. “I usually play for a couple of hours around seven,” you mumbled, hoping he wouldn’t hear well enough to ask, but of course he did.

“Play? Like drama club or something?” the look on his face was utterly clueless and you sighed. Did you have to spell it out?

“No. My guitar,” you muttered, shoving a couple of fries into your mouth and you could feel him looking at you.

“Oh, shit. That’s cool,” you could hear the smile on his face and when you looked up you wanted to believe it. The genuine interest on his face. The impressed clip of his voice and you couldn’t help your own small smile.

“Yeah. It’s whatever. I’m not gonna drop out or anything.”

That pulled a laugh from him. You were funny. “Please don’t, I’d definitely fail Click’s class,” he leaned forward on the table, relaxed for once, and you felt yourself give in a tiny bit. Steve Harrington. Known for his charm, for being smooth, but this was different. Nice. Real?

“No promises, Harrington,” you teased and you felt him kick into the toe of your shoe with his under the table and your heart raced.

“He what?” Robin’s face was contorted with absolute confusion as she sat across from you on your bed, listening to you talk about what had happened with Steve.

“He asked for help studying. It doesn’t make any sense. We haven’t talked since that stupid group science project at the beginning of the year,” you were trying to maintain your focus, swiping slow, even coats of black polish across Robin’s nails.

“I dunno, no offense, but–”

“Oh, none taken,” you cut your friend off, shaking your head and she clicked her tongue in thought.

“–but there’s gotta be an ulterior motive here. Right? I mean. Steve Harrington? He’s hot for fucking Tammy Thompson. Nancy Wheeler was a curveball I’ll admit, but this is supicious. He’s up to something.”

“What would it even be though, Robs? Like, what’s the point of all this? Maybe he really does need help studying,” you finished painting her pinky nail and blew on it lightly.

“No. No way. I dunno what it is, but I don’t trust it,” she narrowed her eyes and glanced off out your window across the street at the Harrington’s house.

“Yeah. Me either, I guess,” you agreed quietly, following Robin’s gaze. There was a light on in Steve’s room, curtain open like it always was and as Robin got up to fling her hands around in an attempt to dry them you couldn’t help yourself.

Standing from your bed you went and curled up on your window seat, straining your eyes to try and see something, anything in his room. You’d lived across the street from the boy for years and yet you didn’t know a thing about him other than he was popular, good at basketball, and liked yelling at his dad.

He’d been assigned to your science project group together at the beginning of the school year, but hadn’t been much help at all. Spent most of his time scribbling notes to Nancy or whispering shit to Tommy. Something about a party at Steve’s house and Barb Holland? It was beyond annoying and had it not been for you staying up til midnight the night before it was due you all probably would’ve gotten Fs.

He was just like all the other popular assholes. There because they had to be, skating along on priviledge, mommy and daddy paying for everything. Throwing parties like they were already in college and not bothering to get their grades up because they’d get into whatever school they wanted anyway.

Steve’s friends had been among the worst of them, teasing and mocking people like you. People they deemed ‘freaks’ and easy targets and Steve never stepped in. Tommy Hagan was especially shitty, but you thought he’d decided to leave you alone after what had happened a couple months ago.

“Oops,” he’d said, tone dripping with sarcasm as he flipped your books out of your hands and onto the floor. A red-headed girl named Carol snickered at his side. “Sorry, didn’t see you there, freak,” he dissolved into laughter just like his girlfriend had and you snapped.

“That’s funny to you?” you got in his face, not shying away from the shark-like grin on his lips, toe-to-toe with him and your books still on the floor.

“Nothin’ funny about it. Right, Carol?” he drawled, grin twisting with something a little meaner as Carol smirked at you over his shoulder.

“Nuh huh, just a lil accident,” she’d purred and you’d had it.

“Well why you don’t take your stupid accidents somewhere else, hm?” and you flicked your hand under his things, scattering loose papers and notes and folders all over the ground.

The look he’d given you then made your stomach lurch, made you feel like maybe you fucked up, like you’d gone too far, but then the bell rang overhead and he had to let it go.

Sneering at you, Carol gathered up all of Tommy’s stuff and pulled on his arm when she finished. “C’mon, Tommy. Leave it,” she urged, shooting you a glare.

“Bye-bye,” you snarked and all Tommy could do was flip you off as Carol yanked him down the hallway toward class. No one had really challenged him before, especially someone like you, and you thought he’d stopped for good, but little did you know.

He’d zeroed in on you for the bet.

Glancing down at the Harrington’s driveway you saw Steve’s car was missing, but as if on cue you heard the BMW coming up the street. Pulling your sheer curtain across your open window you hid behind it, watching as Steve threw the car into park and kicked his door open. He was saying something, but Madonna was playing too loudly on your stereo.

“Robs, turn that down,” you hissed and she did as you asked, giving you a weird look.

“What are you do–”

“Shh!” you put up a hand, holding your breath, ears straining to hear.

“Christ. Little shithead. In the fucking cellar? God. It could be anywhere.”

Your brow furrowed, a deep crease between them as you listened. What the hell was he talking about? But then he popped the trunk and pulled out a bat covered in nails and your stomach flipped over. Why would he need that?

He looked over his shoulder and slammed the trunk shut, running up the front walk and taking his stairs by two before slipping in the front door and locking it behind him.

“What?” Robin was pressing into you now, shoving you aside to try and look out the window. You tried to push her away, but the door to Steve’s room opened across the street and you slapped a hand over her mouth.

He threw the bat under his bed, frantically running his hands through his hair, pacing the length of his room. He looked scared. Worried. Definitely anxious and then he stopped at the side of his bed, plopping down on the edge of it and buried his face in his hands.

“Oh my god, will you please just tell me what the hell is–”

“Robs, please. Just wait,” you whispered harshly, your hands pressed together in mock prayer and she groaned, closing her eyes but staying quiet.

Ring, ring, ring.

You heard the trill of the phone on Steve’s nightstand and he clumsily scrambled across his bed to answer it.

“Henderson? Yeah did you tell them about how your ‘little lizard friend’ dug a huge ass tunnel through your cellar? Oh, don’t even start–no! No, no, no. I’m not doing that. Absolutely not. What d’you mean they can’t–listen here, I’ve seen what these things can do. I’m not messing with that shit anymore man.”

“Are you hearing this?” you hissed at Robin and she just looked at you wide-eyed, Steve’s voice pulling you both back to look across the street.

“I really don’t think–what d’you mean bait it? Well…I guess that could work. Tomorrow? No. No, I have a…a thing. No I’m not telling you what it is. Fine! Fine. But I better be done by seven, you hear me? No later than seven. Yeah, whatever. Bye.”

Steve hung the phone up just as you and Robin were leaning through the curtain to hear better. He stood from the bed and looked up through his window and you had to clamp a hand over your mouth to not yelp as you shoved both you and Robin off the bench to the floor.

“Shit, d’you think he saw us?” you asked, heart pounding in your chest.

“Oh, he definitely saw us,” Robin scowled at you and you squeezed your eyes shut.

Great. You had a feeling your study session was going to be real special tomorrow.

The next day at school went by without incident, but you didn’t see Steve and Tommy and Carol kept giving you weird looks. Like they knew something you didn’t and it probably should’ve bothered you more, but you couldn’t stop thinking about what you’d heard the night before.

Robin had left your house, basically making you promise to call her after you got done studying with Steve to tell her what you found out.

If you found out anything.

But as the last bell rang and you still didn’t see any sign of Steve you wondered if he wasn’t going to show up. The little voice inside your head told you he was just like everyone else, told you to not be disappointed when he stood you up, but the knock on your front door soon after you got home proved it wrong.

“Where were you today?” fell out of your mouth abruptly and Steve’s brows quirked up, caught off guard, but quick enough to answer.

“Uh, family stuff,” he mumbled. You didn’t believe him, but the look on his face made you stop short of pushing him and you stepped aside to let him in.

“Hope everything’s okay,” you closed your front door, watching as Steve stood in your entry way looking at pictures of you and your sister from when you were little.

“Yeah. Yeah, good for now I guess,” he poked a finger at a photo on the wall, a small smile tugging up at the corners of his lips, “Is this you?”

Your cheeks flushed pink, of course he’d find the one of you running around naked in just your Christmas slippers. You were a little over a year old, but still. A butt’s a butt.

“Sure is,” you grumbled, shoving past him into the kitchen and he followed suit, chuckling under his breath.

“Cute.”

Your heart skipped a beat in your chest. “Thanks,” you said softly, opening the fridge and grabbing two cans of Cherry Coke. You offered one to him wordlessly and he took it with a small nod of thanks, trailing behind you as you sat at the kitchen table.

Steve cracked his can open with a soft hiss, tossing his backpack on the floor, and leaned back comfortably in his chair. “Your parents not around?”

“Mom’s a nurse, she’s on swing shift. Dad’s working late and my sister’s on dance team, so she’s at practice,” your finger flicked at the tab on your soda can, eyes glancing up to meet his across the table, “Don’t get any ideas.”

And then it was Steve’s turn to blush and you couldn’t help but smile. You could play his game.

“I–I didn’t have any ideas, I just–”

“Harrington, I’m teasing you.”

He laughed, a little nervous, a little intrigued, and gave you a lopsided grin. “I don’t know what I expected when I asked you for help but…” he drifted off, trying to find the right words and your nose scrunched up in a tiny grimace.

“That bad?” you asked and he laughed, a real laugh, and shook his head.

“No! No, not bad. Nothing bad,” he reassured you and your expression softened into something a little warmer and he noticed because his softened too, “I just–I guess I like hanging out with you is all.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to ground yourself in the moment, trying to remember why Steve was here and the fact that until yesterday you didn’t exist for him. “Should make studying easier,” you teased and he grinned again.

“Oh yeah, s’that why I’m here?”

“Yeah, it is. Get your book out, genius,” you finally cracked open your can of soda and took a drink, trying to hide your smile behind it.

You couldn’t deny it, the last twenty-four hours with him had been strange, unexpected, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like it. There were the obvious things. His eyes all warm honey and amber, the long sweep of his lashes as they fanned out across his cheeks, the way his jaw tensed when was focusing. He was pretty. But then there were the not so obvious things. The way he got flustered and how cute it was, that damn lopsided grin, the way it felt when he looked at you and listened.

Steve Harrington was…nice?

Digging around in his bag Steve grabbed his book and you took out your stack of notecards you’d made a week earlier.

“When’s your make up test?” you asked, thumbing through the stack of little cards in your hands.

“Friday morning,” Steve glanced up at you and smirked, “Could you just give me your graded test?”

“No way! That’s cheating,” you chided and he threw his hands up with a laugh.

“Just an idea!”

“I told you no ideas,” you teased gently, hating how he made you smile so damn much your cheeks hurt from the effort.

“Sorry, forgot,” he lied and you shook your head at him, shuffling your notecards and placing them facedown on the table.

“Alright, c’mon. Study now so I can play at seven,” you reminded him.

“Can I stay?” came out too quick and Steve’s cheeks flushed again, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed his words, “I mean, only if it’s okay with you.”

You watched him then for a moment trying hard to read him, this new version of Steve you didn’t know, but liked. Trying to decipher if he was being serious or not and you felt your pulse fluttering against your neck at the way he looked at you. Genuine. Soft. Kind, even.

Clearing your throat you finally pulled your gaze away from his and flipped the first notecard over: Who led the Crossing of the Delaware? You could still feel him looking at you and when you glanced back up at him he gave you a small, boyish smile.

Dammit.

“Uh, sure. Yeah. I guess, but I don’t wanna hear from the peanut gallery,” you murmured, not shying away as you kept your eyes on his.

“Not a word,” he crossed his finger over his heart and reached a hand over to take a few notecards from the pile, “Promise.”

“I’ll kick your ass out,” you teased and his smile grew.

“I believe it.”

A small laugh fell from your lips and you shook your head, trying to focus, trying to remember why the hell Steve Harrington was in your kitchen and finally held the notecard up with your hand covering the answer.

“Okay, Harrington. Let’s go. Who led the Crossing of the Delaware?”

“Ah, shit. I know this. Uh…” Steve snapped his fingers, leaning back in his chair before making a small noise of realization, “Oh! Benjamin Franklin!”

The look on your face said all you needed it to and Steve got the message as his face turned bright red.

“Fuck. Not Ben Franklin…”

“No. George Washington.”

This was going to be a while.

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crappymixtape · 1 year

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come back to me • part two

PART ONE HERE • PART THREE HERE // after steve gets his heart broken by nancy, tommy dares him to try something different as a rebound, someone who isn’t his type at all, and at first he’s doing it to prove a point, but when the upside down gets involved he realizes just how he really feels • 18+ | ( 6k – violence / upside down, lots of angst, some fluff, enemies to lovers-ish, steve x reader, king!steve x reader ) REQUEST @carinacassiopeiae → king!steve, reformed!king steve x reader

C O M E B A C K T O M E • P T . 2 🎶 i don't mind falling in love with you - milk.

“I don’t wanna hear it,” Steve said, lips firmed in a line as the curly haired boy in the passenger seat gave him a look.

“What? It’s not my fault!” Dustin protested, a hand clasped to his chest.

“Oh, it’s absolutely your fault. In fact, all of you little shitheads are guilty,” glancing at himself in the rearview mirror Steve tried to get his hair to lay flat, but the cowlick in the back kept flipping out like a middle finger at 7:43am. He swore under his breath before turning back to Dustin, “I’m gonna be late for class. So Thursday? You better be at your place by 4 or your ass can start walking to the arcade.”

The younger boy’s mouth fell open, scoffing, so offended, “Uncalled for. And mean.”

“S’what you get for not being able to drive,” Steve shoved his door open and piled out, Dustin following close behind.

“Yeah, well. Once I can you’re gonna miss me!”

“Hah! Not a chance. 4 o’clock, Henderson. Not a minute later or you can get cozy with your stupid bike,” Steve shot, pointing a finger at Dustin as they parted ways, and the younger boy replied by flipping him off. Both hands. “Oh, real mature!”

“Kiss my ass!”

Grumbling, Steve let the boy have the last word and half-jogged across the quad toward the side entrance to the school where Tommy was waiting for him.

Carol was tucked in against the freckle-faced boy, mouth twisted in a grimace and Steve felt his stomach drop. The last people he wanted to see.

“The hell are you doing with that dweeb?” Tommy snarked, jerking his head back at where Dustin had gone into the computer lab.

“Just gave him a ride,” Steve lied because no one would believe him about Dart, hell sometimes even he didn’t believe himself, “His mom gave me twenty bucks.”

“Oh yeah? Well, you can just give that to me now,” Tommy shouldered into Steve, reaching a hand out and mock-grabbing at his wallet, “Its Wednesday! I don’t see you makin’ any moves yet.”

“Shut up, Tommy,” Steve shoved him off and Tommy just started laughing. Shaking his head and clicking his tongue at him.

“What? Where’s your cute little sign, Stevie boy? Tick tock!”

“I said shut up!” Steve turned and got in Tommy’s face, eyes flickering with a challenge. King Steve shit and Tommy’s grin pulled up wickedly.

“Whoa, touchy this morning. You on your period?”

“I’m gonna ask tonight.”

“Whatever you say, Harrington. You got two days left,” Tommy murmured, giving Carol a squeeze at his side and she giggled as he wiggled his eyebrows teasingly.

“Two days, King Steve,” Carol purred, a more subtle taunt, but somehow worse than Tommy and Steve jammed his tongue into his cheek, staring them both down.

He hadn’t exactly planned on jumping the question on you today, in fact he didn’t have a plan at all, but studying had gone well the last two nights. Much better than he’d expected it to and you told him he could come by again after school if he needed it, but now he was feeling nervous. Anxious. Unsure. You were being so nice to him, helping him and not asking for anything in return and here he was playing some game. Like all the assholes you said you hated and he couldn’t help the pang of guilt that squeezed tight in his chest.

“C’mon, we’re gonna be late,” Steve muttered, shoving past them and into the school. Class couldn’t be over soon enough.

“Scoot over.”

“What? I’m not even that close to you, there’s plenty of–”

“You’re on my side, just–” you reached a hand out to shove at Steve’s thigh, trying but failing to move him off the edge of your cushion and he only settled in further. “Seriously, Harrington?”

“Just ask the next question. C’mon, I got it,” he waved a hand at you and the notecards stacked in a pile on the side table. It earned him an eye roll and a sigh.

“You’re impossible,” you grumbled, tucking yourself as far away from him as you could and grabbed one of the flash cards, fixing him with a glare.

It was now the third day he’d come over after school to study and even though you’d told him on Monday that you needed to stop at seven he somehow managed to hang around. Weaseled his way into your room as you picked out notes on your guitar, lounging lazily on your bed while you sat in the window playing.

You almost told him you wanted to be alone, almost made him go home, but it was nice. Playing with someone else around. Nice to have someone to talk to, to laugh with, and god. The way he looked at you, eyes all brown sugar and honey, you couldn’t say no.

Especially when he told you how he liked the sound. How well you played and it didn’t seem like a ploy, wasn’t a ruse, he meant it. He actually sat and listened quietly and smiled, tapping his fingers along with the notes and it made your stomach flip over. Made you feel silly.

Because he was a jock. An asshole. King Steve. He wasn’t supposed to be all sweet and encouraging and teasing you and giving you looks like he did. Right? Right?

And now it was Wednesday and Steve Harrington sitting in your living room felt kind of normal and he was funny. Smug, but kept up with your banter and actually answered a few questions correctly for once and you wondered when it would all end. When would it all come crashing down around you? King Steve jumping out from behind the curtain with some shitty comment loaded and at the ready.

You felt your guard still up, not letting him in completely, but he was wearing you down and it scared you. What you wanted. What the feelings stirring in your chest meant. Especially when he was sitting so close and…

“When did the Revolutionary War start?” your eyes flicked up to look over at him as he picked at a loose thread on the arm of the couch.

“Uh–” he tilted his head back against the cushion and screwed his face up in thought, tongue flicking out across his lips, working through it. “April something? 1774?” he turned to you, brows lifted in hopes he got it right, but your smirk told him no and he groaned, “Jesus, can we take a break?”

“Oh, now you want a break? C’mon, 1775! That’s so easy!”

“Yeah, for you maybe! Not everyone’s a genius, genius,” he teased and you huffed a laugh. Damn him.

“Poor baby,” you snarked, nudging his knee with yours and he grumbled under his breath enough that you took pity on him. “Fine, break. I need to play a little bit anyway,” tossing the notecards back onto the table you stood from the couch and stretched, cut-off sweater lifting just high enough that the dip of your lower back peeked out and Steve couldn’t help looking.

You were right there and shit, you were cute, and his cheeks grew warm, flushed and pink, and for once in his life he didn’t know what to do.

Usually he’d reach over and grab Nancy, pulling her down into the couch with him or dig his fingers into her waist, reaching and wanting more, but this was different. You weren’t Nancy or Tammy Thompson or Allie Parker. You were different, but then he heard Tommy. Taunting. Laughing. Smirking.

I got a proposition for you. Little game, huh? I dare you to get a freak to catch feelings for you. You’re losing your grip on shit, King Steve.

He had to ask. Tonight. No, he hadn’t planned on it, but he could already see Tommy waiting for him in the quad. Arms crossed and a stupid smirk on his face. Ready to dig into him and give him shit and tell him he was a pussy. That he’d lost it over a bet and Steve already felt fed up. Anxious. Frustrated. But then he looked at you again and the anger in his chest stuttered. Would he hurt you just for the clout?

“Uh, can I stay? If it’s okay with you?” he choked out realizing he was still staring. Clearing his throat he dragged his eyes away from you and stood from his spot on the couch.

“Again?” fell out in surprise and your cheeks turned pink as his face shifted, apologetic and a little startled, and it made your stomach flip over.

“S-sorry, I can go–”

“No! No, it’s okay. I just–” you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to pick your words, “–its just funny. Steve Harrington wanting to hang out.”

His lips tugged up into a lopsided smile, brows pinched together in mild confusion, “Why is that funny?”

“Are you joking?”

“No?”

Standing just a few steps apart you laughed. You couldn’t help it. It was incredulous and amused and bewildered and he tried to laugh with you, but clearly wasn’t getting it.

“Steve, look at us. Carol throws fries at me at lunch,” it might’ve been a little too deadpan, but you didn’t shy away from it and he just stood there for a minute letting your words settle in the space between you before looking down at his feet.

Steve.

The first time you’d said his actual name. Not Harrington. Not dingus. Not genius. Not idiot. How was he supposed to do this? Make you fall for something that wasn’t real? It was easier when you were at school and not sat close on the couch. Easier when he didn’t know you. Easier when he hadn’t been in your room, but now…

“Yeah, she sucks.”

You snorted and covered your mouth, waiting for him to take it back, but he didn’t and you let your hand fall away. “She sucks so much,” you said, braver, and he looked over at you with a grin.

“A real piece of work.”

“Oh my god, Harrington. I’m telling,” you teased and the air grew lighter as you traced the steps to the stairs, Steve following behind you still grinning and laughing.

“Okay, but you’re gonna have to avenge me after Tommy kicks my ass.”

“Kicks your ass?”

“Yeah, you know, come to find out I’m actually shit at a fist fight. Everyone else: 2. Steve: 0.”

“Did you just talk about yourself in the third person?” you half-laughed, crinkling up your nose and looking over your shoulder at him as you reached the landing and he played it off so easy.

“Yeah and?”

“You’re a weirdo Steve Harrington.”

“Been called worse, princess.”

“Shut up.”

It was dark in your room when you reached the doorway, Steve hovering over your shoulder waiting for you to go in. As you clicked on the lamp everything was washed in gold, warm and hazy, and things fell together like they had the last two nights.

You went in first to grab your guitar. Steve followed suit and kicked his shoes off before taking up his now usual spot. Flat on his back in the middle of your bed, eyes wandering the band posters on your ceiling while you perched yourself on the window seat.

The silence between the notes you played had been uncomfortable at first and you’d felt the need to fill it with stupid conversation, but now only two days later it was easy. Or easier. Especially as Steve kicked his feet off the end of your mattress while he read one of your Thrasher magazines and you smiled a little at the thought of it.

Were you friends?

Plucking out a few chords you hummed along with it and scribbled a few more lyrics down in your tattered notebook. Steve looked up over the edge of his magazine, but didn’t say anything and you tried to ignore it, tried to keep playing, but you could feel him. Still looking.

“Can I help you?” you glanced up at him through your lashes and quirked a brow, a bit unimpressed but tolerant and he grinned.

“No, just sounds nice,” he replied, voice all sugary sweet and you narrowed your eyes at him.

“It’s hard to focus when you’re staring,” you pushed, setting your pen down and he raised his brows in mock surprise.

“Sorry, I’ll just–” Steve held up his magazine and tucked back into it and you shook your head, taking up your pen, but a few minutes later he was looking. Again.

This time you put your guitar aside and tilted your head, lips twisted half in thought and half in a scowl. “What?” you prodded, but this time he softened and you felt your stomach flip over. You wished you hadn’t asked.

“So listen,” he started, setting the magazine down and you instinctively tucked your knees into your chest, his tone making you feel all kinds of things. Anxious, anticipation, excitement? Worry. “You don’t seem like the type to go to football games or dances and all that, but–”

“Oh no. No,” you cut him off, feet hitting the floor as you abruptly stood from the window seat, “Absolutely not. Don’t finish that question.”

“Oh, c’mon princess! You don’t even know what I’m gonna–”

“And god I hate that. Don’t call me princess.”

Steve was standing now too, socked feet almost toe to toe with your bare ones as he crowded into you and you could smell fresh laundry. Mint gum. Cedar like the tree outside your window and boy. Your head felt hazy and you swallowed thick, kept your eyes on his, chin tilted up in defiance as he grinned down at you just a little.

“Why? Just go with me. To homecoming,” there, it was out now and as he looked down at you, you made a noise somewhere between a groan and a sigh.

“No, I hate that shit. It’s just a bunch of jocks parading around and slapping each other on the ass for a couple of hours before everyone crams into the gym to grind on each other,” you muttered, still a touch defensive, but softening the longer he looked at you.

“Okay, so maybe we watch a little of the game and then we can ditch. Do whatever you want,” he offered, still so close to you and you felt yourself giving in.

“Do you really want to take me?” you asked and his grin cracked, thoughts of Tommy and the bet swept out the window with the look in your eyes and he stuttered over his words.

“Y-yeah, course. W-why would I ask you if I didn’t?”

“Because. You’ve lived right there your whole life and you’ve never once said hi to me,” you pointed a finger through your curtains over to his room next door, “C’mon, Harrington. Why are you here?”

Steve’s heart was racing. He knew why he was here originally. Knew he wanted to shut Tommy up. Knew he didn’t want to admit he was losing his grip on shit. Didn’t want to be perceived as weak or whipped. Like the break up with Nancy didn’t matter, but it did. And he was hurt and he was losing his grip, but when he was with you it didn’t suck so bad and he could be himself and you laughed at his dumb jokes. Held him to his to shit and didn’t shy away and god, he liked you.

“Okay, fine. I’ve been an asshole, but can’t I change? Can’t I want to hang out with you? What’s so wrong with that?” and with those words he knew he was done playing the game, he meant what he’d said and the sudden confession felt freeing. Terrifying, but like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders and he felt his heart thudding hard against his chest. Waiting for you.

You didn’t say anything for a moment, eyes searching his, looking for the punch line and waiting for the gotcha! moment, but it didn’t come and you bit the inside of your cheek. Trying to ground yourself. Trying to be realistic, but he was making it so damn hard.

“There’s nothing wrong with that,” you finally said, voice soft and low, reluctantly letting your chin dip back down. “I just–”

“You just what? C’mon. Come with me. Please?”

A no bubbled up in your chest almost immediately for preservation, survivor’s instinct, and it was like he sensed it. Lifting his hand to your cheek he tucked a stray lock of hair behind your ear and as his fingers brushed against your skin you felt the embers in your chest flicker, cracking and snapping into flames. Breath hitching in your throat you took a small step back, enough to gather yourself, and looked back up at him with a small scowl.

“Fine, but I’m not staying past kickoff. And I want pizza. And ice cream. Two scoops,” you demanded and it pulled a grin from him, all smug and shit and you shook your head trying to fight off a smile of your own. “Wipe that stupid thing off your face,” you grumbled and he laughed.

“No, don’t think I will. Think I’ll keep it. People tell me I’ve got a nice smile.”

“That’s not a smile, Harrington. That’s a certified shit-eating grin and it doesn’t become you.”

“Oh yeah? Well you should try it more often, I like when you smile,” he shot back and it caught you off guard and your lips parted, trying to find words but at a loss.

I like it when you smile. I like it.

Taking another step back you curled back up on the window bench, Steve looking at you like he could do it all day, and you felt your cheeks flush. “Thanks,” came out soft, tentative, and he smiled. One that pulled up at the corner of his lips ever so gently, crinkled in the corners of his eyes, so fucking fond and sweet and he shook his head.

“You’re welcome.”

Steve had stayed late and somewhere around eleven you forgot about your guitar and instead took up a spot next to him on your mattress. Thigh to thigh and shoulder to shoulder. Talking about school. About college. About how neither of you wanted to go because what a waste of money and maybe working at Family Video or the mall wasn’t that bad.

You told him your parents were gone a lot and it was mostly just you and your sister. Fighting over clothes and eating cereal for dinner and he’d laughed. Commiserated with you because his parents were never home and it had its perks. Staying up as late as he wanted, eating pizza all the time, no one bugging him about his grades. He’d told you to come swim in his heated pool sometime because it was like a giant hot tub this time of year and you’d blushed at the thought of him in swim trunks.

Finally he left a little after midnight, eyes heavy and reluctant, and you wondered what it would be like to fall asleep next to him. What it would be like to wake up next to him. And when you opened your eyes the next morning you saw the Thrasher magazine he’d thumbed through sitting just under your pillow.

Most nights you didn’t dream, but last night. Oh last night. You’d dreamt of Steve. And that smile. The one that made your stomach flip over. The one that made you feel dizzy. Wrapped itself around you soft and warm like summer and oh my god he’d asked you to Homecoming.

Well. To kickoff and then pizza and ice cream and you’d agreed, but what was happening? You couldn’t deny the feelings that were flickering under the surface. The ones that only happened when you had a stupid crush, and they were made even worse by the fact that it was Steve.

Steve Harrington.

King Steve.

It all felt like a joke, but he’d been so sincere standing there in your room, glowing in the soft light from your lamp and maybe you’d been too hasty. Too caught up in how it made you feel and as you rolled over to look out the window you thought maybe you should cancel. Tell him you weren’t feeling well. Find Eddie on Friday instead and go smoke out under the bleachers and make fun of all the cheerleaders, but as you turned your cheek into your pillow you caught fresh laundry. Spearmint. Cedar and Steve and dammit. Who were you kidding, you couldn’t cancel.

You left the house way earlier than usual to avoid having to see him, the maroon BMW still sitting in his driveway. It wasn’t like you to shy away from anyone, but this was all so new. Uncharted. Untouched and unknown and maybe if you saw him again alone something bad would happen. He’d realize he’d fucked up and take it all back. So you’d wait until first period science and it’d be better. Right?

“Tommy,” Carol was practically whining, sitting in Tommy’s lap with his head tucked into her neck and he huffed a laugh against her skin pulling a breathless giggle from her.

Wrong. Not better.

Paired up into groups of four you were all crowded around the square desks with beakers and vials of liquids and materials for an experiment and of course your group had landed you with Steve. And Tommy and Carol.

“Seriously?” you muttered under your breath, putting a hand up to your face between you and the disgusting display of PDA happening across the table.

“Sorry,” Steve had muttered under his breath to you, sheepish and shying away from it just as much as you were. He knew he’d been just as bad with Nancy and watching it now made him feel like an idiot.

He’d tried to help a little, but Tommy kept distracting him and surprise. You were carrying the majority of the work. Taking all the notes, prepping everything Mr. Nelson had set out for the experiment, even wrote down the stupid equation used to find the correct amounts of elements, but no one cared.

You felt yourself growing irritated. At tweedle dee and tweedle dum for sucking face in class. At Steve for not helping you and as the bunson burner flickered under your beaker full of liquid, you watched Steve’s friends through the glass.

“You like that? Huh, babe? Wanna skip seventh period? Meet me in the bathroom?” Tommy grinned into Carol’s mouth and you make an overly noisy gagging sound.

Turning to look at you, Tommy caught your gaze through the beaker and smirked. His freckled cheeks pulling up with it as he chewed on his gum.

“What? You jealous?” he teased, voice edging on mean, “Bet you’d be a wild one if you loosened up.”

“C’mon, man,” Steve’s tone was short, clipped and irritated. He’d been sitting quiet the whole time, tolerating and ignoring it all, but when Tommy turned to you something in him snapped. Cheeks flushed and embarrassed at his friends he threw a pencil across the table and it only made Tommy grin wider.

“In your fucking dreams, Hagan. What, is Carol too boring for you?” you shot, wanting to slap the look off his face as heat crept up your chest and the shock on Carol’s face was worth it.

Tommy’s smirk fell a bit as he watched you, eyes narrowing as he considered what he wanted to say. No one challenged him like that, not even Steve who was grinning down at the table. You were quick and shit. He loved it, but Tommy didn’t.

“Nah, we’re good here, but I bet Harrington’d show you a good time. Maybe after Homecoming, you’re going together right?” Tommy snarked, licking along his lips, waiting for Steve to take the bait.

Your eyes pulled away from Tommy to look at Steve, quick wit and sharp words stolen away from you by the way your stomach lurched.

The punchline you’d been waiting for.

“Christ,” Steve hissed, face flushed like you’d never seen before and he nearly jumped across the table to smack a hand over the other boy’s mouth. He gave Tommy a look. A warning. Shut up. But it only pushed the other boy to go further.

“Seriously, I got a twenty in my wallet. C’mon Stevie boy, show her how it’s done–“

“Can you tell Nelson I went to the nurse? M’not feeling very good all of a sudden,” you didn’t let Tommy finish and glared at Steve, throat tightening as you tried to push down the emotion welling up in your chest.

You shoved yourself away from the table a little too harshly and the glass beaker clattered against its metal stand as you grabbed your things and headed for the door.

“Awh, c’mon! I’m only teasing, sweetheart!” Tommy mock-pleaded, snickering between his words as Carol watched amused and smug from the safety of his lap.

Steve opened his mouth to tell him to shut up, defend you even, but it didn’t matter anymore. You were already gone.

“God, Tommy. You’re such an asshole,” Steve snatched his binder from the table and hurried out the door after you.

You could hear Steve’s shoes slapping against the hallway tile behind you, trying to catch up, but you didn’t slow down. Heart hammering in your chest you tried to suck in deep breaths, tried to calm yourself down, but god you were angry.

“Hey! Just wait!” and Steve’s hand caught yours, hitching your steps and spinning you around to look up at him.

“What?” you hissed, flinging his hand off of yours and hurt flickered in his eyes for a second.

“I just–”

“You just what?” you said again, just as firm, just as plain, waiting for him to cook up some excuse and his lips parted but nothing came out. “I don’t know what the hell I was thinking. You’re just as bad as he is,” you pointed back down the hall to Tommy. To Carol. All cut from the same fucking cloth. You turned to walk away and Steve grabbed your hand again.

“Please,” he said voice edging on pleading and you spun around, walking right up to him so that your shoes were almost toe-to-toe.

“Twenty bucks? This was all a joke, right? Is that what I am to you? A joke?”

“No! No, I like hanging out with you now that–” but Steve caught his slip up and swallowed the rest of his words, watching as your cheeks burned bright under the bad florescent lighting.

“Now? What the hell does that mean?”

“Well–I just mean that, y-you know, we weren’t really friends before and–”

“God,” you choked out, willing the tears away that were stinging at the corners of your eyes, “Save it, Harrington. Good luck on your stupid test.”

And you didn’t wait, didn’t give him another chance to defend himself, so damn frustrated with yourself for trusting him. For letting him into your room. Letting him listen to you play your guitar and oh my god. For helping him.

Slamming your hands into the cold metal push bar of the exit door you ran out through the quad and slipped in the gravel between the gym and computer lab. Sweater catching on the brick as you slid down the wall to the floor, you buried your head in your hands. Hiding. Trying your best to undo all the delusions you’d dreamed up about Steve being different.

Because no. Steve Harrington was an asshole. Nothing had changed and you were a fool for believing it could.

Somehow you made it through the rest of the day. Passed a pop quiz in math and ate your lunch alone the bathroom. Steve wasn’t in any of your other classes until seventh period, Click’s class, and when you slammed your locker shut you looked down the hallway to see him walking up from the opposite direction.

He looked wrecked. Like he’d been punched and when his eyes met yours you scowled. A deep pinch between your brows, hoping he felt just how angry you were and he couldn’t hold your gaze. Glancing away for a minute confirmed that he was a coward and you took some solace in it, but decided you didn’t want to go to class. You hadn’t missed one yet this year and Click could deal.

You didn’t have a car and as you walked across the parking lot a rumble of thunder growled in the distance. Fantastic. A walk home in the rain sounded great.

Tugging your coat around your frame you felt the air shift, a drop in temperature, and it was slow at first. Little drops here and there. Pattering soft against the pavement as you hurried between the cars, but they got bigger and bigger until another clap of thunder cracked the sky in two and then it poured.

Almost halfway home and you were soaked. Shoes squelching with each step you took. Rain dripping off the hood of your coat and onto your face where it mingled with the tears streaming down your cheeks. Cars sped by you on the road, tires kicking up water as they went loud and wet and you almost didn’t hear one slowing down over the rain until a horn honked.

“Hey! Are you crazy? Get in!”

Squeezing your eyes shut you stopped, rain still dumping down on you and the voice called again.

“C’mon! Please?”

It wasn’t too much further, but it was so damn cold. The rain didn’t show any sign of stopping and you weren’t an idiot, so against your better judgement you turned and hurried back the short distance to the maroon BMW idling on the side of the road and climbed into the passenger seat.

The loud smack of rain on the road was sliced in two as you shut your door, leaving you and the boy in the driver’s seat in silence.

You didn’t look at Steve, instead tangling your hands in your hair to wring out the water onto your lap, but you could see him stealing glances out of the corner of your eye. If you opened your mouth you knew you’d say things you’d regret, knew you’d be too mean with it, so you bit your lips in between your teeth and stared at the tiny grooves and patterns on the dash.

“Silent treatment? Seriously?” Steve finally asked, voice low. Miserable and unsure and it pulled your eyes up to look at him.

He was a sight. Hair stuck wet and messy across his forehead, probably from running out after you into the rain. Drips of water beading along his lashes, the tip of his nose, the line of his jaw. Still so damn pretty even when he was a wreck and the anger in your chest flickered at the how your thoughts betrayed you.

“Yeah. Seriously,” you said matter-of-factly, holding his gaze, making sure he saw just how hurt you were and he loosed a heavy sigh.

“I’m really sorry,” he tried, turning so he could see you a little better and god he did look sorry. You’d honestly never seen anyone look more sorry in your life, but Tommy’s stupid laugh echoed in your head and you screwed your eyes shut.

“That doesn’t fix it, Harrington,” came out wobbly and you swallowed the lump in your throat, pushing yourself forward, he needed to hear it. “You think you’re untouchable, like you run shit, and maybe you do right now, but tell me its worth it. Is it worth it?”

His face shifted, pained, his eyes dropping to the center console as he ran a hand through his wet hair. It wasn’t. He knew it wasn’t as soon as he saw Tommy that morning. Knew it wasn’t when you’d said yes to going out with him. He thought maybe he knew it all along, but couldn't admit it.

“No,” he finally managed, shaking his head, “No. It’s not and I’m really sorry.” When he looked back up at you, you felt like he sucker punched you. Either he was a fantastic actor or he’d meant what he’d just said. No doubt about it and you roughed your hands over your face.

“Please just drive me home,” you said quietly, leaning your head against the window all fogged up from the moisture and wet clinging to your bodies.

“Yeah. Okay,” he agreed and pulled back onto the main road, still stealing glances at you. Checking to see if you were alright. If you needed anything. If you’d listened to him.

He weaved through the puddles in the road, lightening rippling across the sky ahead of you through the windshield and he didn’t push. Didn’t make you talk. Didn’t want answers right away and instead settled into the quiet.

You wished you could go back to how it was before. Go back to seeing Steve in his room across the side yard from yours throwing a tennis ball against he wall. Back to him floating in his pool while you read your book, safely tucked away in your room. Back to walking past him in the hallway at school and saying nothing, but you knew you couldn’t now. Knew things had changed and you wondered at it. What would it be now?

Looking out the window you realized you’d missed the turn at the hospital down your road and were off toward the Steel Mill now.

“Harrington, this isn’t our street,” you grumbled, fixing him with a look as he pulled off into a driveway you didn’t recognize and threw the BMW into park.

“I know, I know. I just gotta check something really quick. I promise, like, five minutes and then I’ll take you home. Okay?” he gave you an apologetic look, a real one and you groaned, but relented. Shaking your head and leaning back against the window.

“Whatever, just hurry up,” you muttered and he nodded.

“I promise,” he said again before popping the trunk and hopping out of the car into the rain.

You didn’t know whose house this was, but you’d recognized Barb’s place on the way and there was a bike tossed against the garage that you knew you’d seen before. The curly-haired kid with the walkie talkie?

Catching Steve in the rearview mirror you saw him grab something from the trunk before slamming it shut and as he ran up the walk a flash of lightening caught silver. Lit up what it was he had held tight in his hands.

The bat. Full of nails. And when he wrenched the front door open you caught strings of Christmas lights, but it wasn’t even Thanksgiving yet. What the hell was going on?

Crawling over into the driver’s seat you unrolled the window, feeling a little braver, a little bolder, and strained your ears to see if you could hear anything. Hear why the hell Steve Harrington needed a bat full of nails or why someone put Christmas lights up this early and for a minute it was quiet. Normal. Not unusual.

Until you saw it.

The colored lights in the windows started to flicker erratically. Flashing and blinking and stuttering against the paned glass and your brow furrowed. Power outage? But then a high pitched screech pierced the air and you jumped in your seat. Not human. Not animal. Something else and goosebumps trailed up your arms. And then a yell, this one human, and your stomach lurched.

“Oh shit! Oh shit, oh shit!”

Steve.

“Jesus, gimme the bat! The bat!”

You didn’t know what was going on, but something was horribly wrong and mad him or not, fuck if you were gonna sit around and wait. Fingers wet and slipping against he handle on the car door you flung it open and sprinted through the mud and the rain toward the house.

He might’ve been an asshole, but said it himself, Steve Harrington was shit in a fist fight and lucky for him you had a hell of a swing.

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist

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crappymixtape · 3 months

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because of you pt. 3 • ( teaser )

TEASER FOR PT. 3 OF BECAUSE OF YOU // PART ONE • PART TWO PART THREE -> where you and the gang put your weapons together and beat the shit out out of vecna // a little friday treat for you, loves! this was a request from my 500 follower mixtape requests ♥️

“Think she’s okay?”

“Shh!”

“What? No way she can hear us back here.”

“Dustin, ‘back here’ is literally a seat behind her.”

Sat quietly at a table seat in the Winnebago, Eddie looking on worriedly across from you, you were still grappling with the fact that you were alive. That you didn’t die. That you were breathing fresh air and free from the dark and free from Him.

For now.

And as the RV bumped down the road out of Hawkins you said nothing. Felt Steve’s eyes on you constantly as he glanced at you in the rearview. Eddie’s hand still holding tight to yours after he helped you up, afraid to lose you again. Dustin and Lucas and Max all talking in not-so-hushed voices behind you about what it all meant and if El could get back in time and was this all gonna be enough?

Voice thick and choked by the sobs that had felt endless, you’d managed to tell everyone what Vecna had showed you. Told them about Hawkins, about the monsters, about your family, about them. Eddie, Robin, Nancy Steve. And no one had said anything at first. The sounds of your cries filling up the trailer. Stark against the silence and heavy with the weight of your words and they knew before you’d even opened your mouth that it was going to be bad.

Of course they knew.

But now that Vecna had revealed his master plan, the efforts you were all making just felt hopeless. The munitions stuffed under the bench seats and closets and cabinets, all puny and worthless against Vecna and his army of nightmares.

A big bump in the road brought you out of your thoughts and when you looked up your eyes met Steve’s as he snuck another look in the rear view. And instead of glaring, instead of flipping him the bird, you looked right back. Held his gaze for moment longer and he didn’t shy away until he came up on a turn-off.

“Alright, shitheads. We’re here.”

“Here?” Lucas asked, more than confused at the thick forest Steve was now driving you all through.

“Yeah, this is it.”

And as the trees slowly thinned out, thick grass and wildflower blooms took their place. Crept out ahead of you to reveal a meadow, wide and green and lush. A haven that felt so very far away.

Felt safe.

BECAUSE OF YOU MASTERLIST -> PART ONE • PART TWO crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist

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crappymixtape · 23 years

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steve harrington • multi-part // series

( LONGER, SERIALIZED OR MULTI–PART FICS, NOTED IF COMPLETE OR IN–PROGRESS, STEVE x YOU // mature content marked appropriately )

🏘 SOFT, SWEET, SOUNDS – ONGOING? ( part 1 ) ( part 2 ) a roommate!steve series that started with one lil soft, smutty blurb and has now shifted into a whole thing – steve’s still your roommate and you’re still friends, right? or is there something more and you two are just too chicken shit to put a label on it? • 18+ | ( 1.5K – roommates -> something?, tiny fluff, medium smut, lots of idiocy, steve x you )

❄️ A VERY MERRY MIXTAPE ( HOLIDAY SERIES ) – IN-PROGRESS a series of little holiday blurbs featuring steve and eddie throughout the christmas & winter season – varies between ST canon, modern!au, and everything in between // three requests and three original prompts.

"gold & glitter" REQUEST -> ❝ i’m thinking a little rich!steve harrington, a little spicy somethin, somethin and a holiday play – spicy is right, steve takes you to see the nutcracker, but you don’t even make it to the first act • *18+ | ( 3.1k – smut with a dash of fluff, rich!steve x reader )

"baby it's cold outside" REQUEST -> ❝ what about 🎁 exchanging presents with steve?? i just know he’s a thoughtful gift giver! – it’s been snowing all day, enough to snap the power lines and make the lights go out, and when steve comes over to build you a fire you can’t think of a more perfect time to exchange gifts | ( 1.8k – just honestly pure fluff, sneaky hurt / comfort, modern!steve x reader )

"i want you the most" REQUEST -> ❝ what about caught under mistletoe at a christmas party with steve. at least fluffy, maybe a wee bit more smutty? – steve's never been kissed under the mistletoe, what kind of girlfriend would you be if you didn't make it memorable? *18+ | ( 1.8k – established relationship, tiny bit of fluff, lots of snark, sprinkle of smut, steve x reader )

🦇 COME BACK TO ME – COMPLETE ( part 1 ) ( part 2 ) ( part 3 ) REQUEST -> after steve gets his heart broken by nancy, tommy dares him to try something different as a rebound, someone who isn’t his type at all, and at first he’s doing it to prove a point, but when the upside down gets involved he realizes just how he really feels • 18+ | ( 5.4k – violence / upside down, lots of angst, some fluff, enemies to lovers-ish, steve x reader, king!steve x reader )

🧢 YOU'RE NEVER FAR BEHIND – COMPLETE ( part 1 ) ( part 2 ) // 🎶 playlist on spotify 🎶 REQUEST -> when your dad calls and needs your help at home in hawkins you can't say no, but when you arrive back in town you uncover a friendship you thought you'd lost a long time ago | ( 10.5k, angst, fluff, best friends to strangers to friends to lovers, steve x reader, steve x you )

💫 SOMETHING INFINITE – IN-PROGRESS // 🎶 playlist on spotify 🎶 your mom is out of town for the summer on business and she sends you to live with your aunt joyce and her husband jim in hawkins while she’s gone. joyce works at the library and jim is the town sheriff – the kids, will, jonathan and el slowly warm up to you and it’s after you get in with them that you really start to feel at home, but there’s one person who just annoys you to no end. one person you’d love to just boot off a cliff – steve fucking harrington.

"part one : maybe the world won't end" – steve steals a car and somehow you wind up in hawkins, indiana, a meet cute without the cute *18+ | ( 2.8k, angst, verbal abuse, enemies to lovers, steve x you, steve x reader )

"part two: perfect on the surface" – you start your summer job at the library with your aunt only to find your new coworker is someone, an annoying someone, you’ve met before | ( 2k, angst, enemies to lovers, steve x you, steve x reader )

"part three: just wanna see you" – finally a day off and you’re all heading to the lake to fish and swim and drink and it feels like summer and fresh starts and you’re surprised to find you get one of your own ( 3.3k, angst, tiny bit of fluff if you squint, enemies to lovers, steve x you, steve x reader )

"part four: the house that built me" – a history of you and steve and your families, all the broken pieces you’re both trying to gather up and put back together are more similar than you think *18+ | ( 2.3k, angst, enemies to lovers, steve x you, steve x reader ) // warning note: the themes written about in this piece can be especially triggering – brief mentions of loss of a parent, neglect, unplanned pregnancy, and other heavy content – read with caution please and be gentle with yourselves!

"part five: easier to pretend" – part five of something infinite – are you and steve finally figuring each other out? it’s obvious you drive each other crazy, but is it possible you’re starting to like it? | ( 3k, angsty fluff, enemies to lovers, steve x you, steve x reader )

"part six: and it's such a shame" – ferris wheel at 8 and another chance to see where this thing with steve is taking you, but when his friends find out will he be able to handle it? | ( 4k, fluff, lots of angst, enemies to lovers, steve x you, steve x reader )

"part seven: i'll promise i'll pinky swear" – steve tries to decide what it is he wants, to keep burying everything down deep and keep it locked away or crack open his chest and trust you with his heart | ( 4.1k, angst, enemies to lovers, steve x you, steve x reader )

"part eight: say you'll stay" steve did what he thought was right and you're giving him a second chance, but can you both finally open up and be honest with one another? *18+ | ( 6k, smut, a little angst, a little fluff, enemies to lovers, steve x you, steve x reader ).

"part nine: you could have mine" you were unafraid to face steve head on when he fucked up, but now it’s your turn to face the music and it scares you | ( 2k, tiny angst, lil fluff, enemies to lovers, steve x you, steve x reader )

🛠 COMING SOON!

🌻 NOBODY GETS ME, YOU DO – UNDER CONSTRUCTION when steve started dating nancy and got pulled into the upside down you fell in with tommy hagan after carol leaves for college, but it sucks and tommy sucks and you hate it and you're only doing it because it makes not being with steve hurt less. a friends to lovers line filled with plenty of drama / angst / fluff and smut – smut marked appropriately

"nobody puts baby in the corner" – steve has always been your best friend, nothing more, but when you have a falling out with tommy he finally realizes what’s been there all along • *18+ | ( 3.2k, fighting / physical violence, sad, fluff, angst, friends to lovers, steve x you, steve x reader )

"this is how it ends begins" – everything between you and tommy comes to a head after you discover what he’s been doing behind your back, will steve be there to catch you? or will he just make it worse? | ( 2.4k, angst, friends to lovers, steve x you, steve x reader )

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crappymixtape · 1 year

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crappymixtape recos

going to try and do this at least once a month – sharing fics that have just blown me away ❤ so many talented writers on here omg 🥺 show them some love and BE KIND, REBLOG! xoxo, 💿

❤ whispers of 'are you sure?' *18+ – @forevermoreharrington ( steve plans a group trip just to spend time with his favourite girl • steve harrington x reader )

❤ max mayfield HC – @steveharringtonscarkeys ( headcanon about kate bush being max's favorite and why *sobbing* • lumax HC )

❤ its okay to cry – @lovebugism ( request, you tell steve it's okay to cry • steve harrington x reader )

❤ i will wait: chapter two – @abibliophobiaa ( a soulmate!fakemarriage!au • rockstar!eddie and personalassistant!reader ) ❤ love you to death *18+ – @abibliophobiaa ( a halloween spent in steve's bathroom with vampire!eddie • eddie munson x reader )

❤ steve's a tease *18+ – @lilacletter ( just everything about how steve is such. a. fucking. tease. and we love it • steve harrington HC )

❤ casual dominance *18+ – @lilacletter ( more smutty steve brainrot and how casual he is with his dominance everywhere • steve harrington HC )

❤ into open flames: part 3 *18+ – @sailor-steve ( part three of the series! do yourself a favor and read all the parts nowww • steve harrington x reader )

❤ honey *18+ – @roanniom ( honestly this is one of the best little smut blurbs of all time • steve harrington x reader )

❤ whatta man *18+ – @loveshotzz ( 90's AU at the bar where steve and eddie work and hot damn • bartender!eddie x reader )

❤ size queen *18+ – @usedtobecooler ( okay, my reviews at this point are questionable, but this shit SENT ME INTO SPACE • steve harrington x reader )

❤ modern au bartender!steve – @upsidedownwithsteve ( request, steve's your bartender for the night and damn • steve harrington x reader )

❤ sweetness *18+ – @upsidedownwithsteve ( just the sweetest, hottest, mind melting smut of all time • steve harrington x reader )

❤ post-night out *18+ – @lfaewrites ( okay, hands down the most fire eddie smut, god tier, so good • eddie munson x reader )

❤ sick day – @sw34terw34ther ( eddie takes care of you when you're sick and whiny and omg <33 • eddie munson x reader )

❤ invisible string, series - @lilacletter ( this series just started with part one, but omg can’t wait for more • roommates - steddie x reader )

#crappymixtaperecs #fanfic rec #fic rec #steve harrington fanfic #steve x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie stranger things #steve stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #makeacrappymixtape

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crappymixtape · 5 months

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crappymixtape's holiday celebration

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ . A V E R Y M E R R Y M I X T A P E . ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

you've arrived on tumblr today to find a neatly wrapped package waiting for you – all golds and reds and greens with a glittery bow on top – and when you open it up you find a mixtape. the writing on top loops and scrawls across the label, stickers of snoopy in a santa hat covering some of the letters, and when you pop it into the player you hear your favorite songs come to life.

it sounds like sitting by the fire with warm cup of hot cocoa, steve in the kitchen singing along with burl ives, silver and gold decorations, on every christmas tree – it sounds like eddie settled in next to you on the sofa, pressing kisses to your forehead and whispering in your ear, merry christmas, baby.

this is for you, my loves! a little celebration for us and our boys and this wonderful time of year. i'll be posting once a week – on fridays – throughout all of december with requests i've gotten and a few of my own ideas. you can find the playlist below!

THE PLAYLIST ( fic release dates noted below )

GOLD & GLITTER // 12.2 with steve for @superblysubpar 🎶 the nutcracker suite, tchaikovsky steve goes to the nutcracker ballet downtown every year, even has his own balcony seats – this year he brings you along as his date, but somehow you both miss the entire second act ( rich!steve harrington x reader • smut with a sprinkle of fluff ) BABY, ITS COLD OUTSIDE // 12.9 with steve for @sattlersquarry 🎶 baby it's cold outside, frank sinatra & dorothy kirsten it's been snowing all day, enough to snap the power lines and make the lights go out, and when steve comes over to build you a fire you can't think of a more perfect time to exchange gifts ( steve harrington x reader • pure fluff ) I WANT YOU THE MOST // 12.16 with steve for @palmtreesx3 🎶 rockin’ around the christmas tree, brenda lee steve's never been kissed under the mistletoe, what kind of girlfriend would you be if you didn't make it memorable? ( established relationship, tiny bit of fluff, lots of snark, sprinkle of smut, steve x reader ) HOME TO ME // 12.23 with eddie from me, xoxo 🎶 christmas time ( don't let the bells end ), the darkness eddie has to work on christmas eve, so you climb into his bed and fall asleep, waiting for him until he gets home christmas morning to give him his present ( eddie munson x reader • fluff, smut, est. relationship ) CHRISTMAS MAKES ME CRY // 12.30 with steve from me, xoxo 🎶 christmas, leona naess you go home with steve over christmas to finally meet his family and when it doesn't go as planned he feels like he's ruined everything, but you're there for him when he needs it most ( modern!steve harrington x reader • angst, hurt / comfort a little fluff, est. relationship )

LOVES FOR MY FAVORITE WRITERS you babes mean THE WORLD to me, oh my god, thank you so much for being here and for nerding out about this shit as much as i do! omg and for the enabling LOL. go follow all of these handles right now! ( and if i forgot anyone, i'm sorry ily too! )

☀ @inkluvs ☀ @fiveraccoonsinatrenchcoat ☀ @carolmunson ☀ @abibliophobiaa ☀ @dukesmebby ☀ @finalgirleddiemunson ☀ @curseofaphrodite ☀ @softharrington ☀ @starrystevie ☀ @acourtofsnakes ☀ @theshireisburning-so-mordoritis ☀ @a-dealwith-god ☀ @keeryshousee ☀ @lofaewrites ☀ @wroteclassicaly ☀ @katyswrites ☀ @schoopsahoy ☀ @andvys ☀ @chestylarouxx ☀ @supernovafics ☀ @superblysubpar ☀ @sswwmmpptthhnngg ☀ @harrywavycurly ☀ @thyme-in-a-bubble ☀ @lovebugism ☀ @sailor-steve-blog ☀ @sattlersquarry ☀ @plainemmanem ☀ @skullrock ☀

@curiositydooropened ☀ @luveline ☀ @stvharrngton ☀ @loveshotzz ☀ @forever-rogue ☀ @forevermoreharrington ☀ @livingintheupsidedown ☀ @annab-nana ☀ @familyvideostevie ☀ @theemporium ☀ @1986harrington ☀ @lucasnclair ☀ @roanniom ☀ @upsidedownwithsteve ☀ @stevebabey ☀ @starryeyedstories ☀ @kimmyiewrites ☀ @softharrington ☀ @hollandweather ☀ @palmtreesx3 ☀ @stevesbabysittingservice ☀ @princessdave ☀ @sweetsweetjellybean ☀ @fettuccin-e ☀ @usedtobecooler ☀ @aloneinthehellfire ☀ @poguemunson ☀ @myobmaya ☀ @reputationmunson ☀ @sincerelyyoursg ☀ @harringtons-cupid ☀ @spinmewriteround

AND HUGS TO YOU! YES, YOU! XOXO, 💿 KATE i absolutely cannot believe it's almost been a year since i've come back to this place and i have loved every single moment of it. making friends ( ily moots! ) seeing new faces ( nonnies you're my fav! ) and putting words to all of these characters we love so much. so just thank you, for everything, you're wonderful and i'm so glad you're here with me ♥️

✨ divider love to @saradika

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crappymixtape · 1 year

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crappymixtape recos

going to try and do this at least once a month – sharing fics that have just blown me away ❤ so many talented writers on here omg 🥺 show them some love and BE KIND, REBLOG! xoxo, 💿

❤ bad idea *18+ – @abibliophobiaa ( a silly little request of mine brought to life SO BRILLIANTLY oh my god • steve harrington x reader )

❤ forget me not – @sattlersquarry ( steve broke your heart and you're holding a grudge...until you're not • steve harrington x reader )

❤ wait you think i'm cute? – @stevestummy ( fluffy lil piece that is literal perfection omg • steve harrington x reader )

❤ a girl like you *18+ – @palmtreesx3 ( hot tub steve PART TWO, we are this blessed • steve harrington x reader )

❤ don't call me baby *18+ – @katyswrites ( a sugar daddy, modern au! of you and steve and omg just go read • steve harrington x reader )

❤ steve comforts dustin – @stevethehairington ( dustin is absolutely shattered after eddie dies and steve helps him the only way he knows how, prepare to sob • steve harrington & dustin henderson )

❤ relax, lay back *18+ – @superblysubpar ( steve wants to take things slow, but you have other ideas in mind • steve harrington x reader )

❤ knight!steve ( sneak peek! ) – @sw34terw34ther ( knight!steve falls in love with you, a literal actual princess • steve harrington x reader )

❤ colors pt. 4 ( sneak peek ) *18+ – @loveshotzz ( if you're not followed or haven't read colors FUCKING GO GO GO, sneak of part 4 • older!steve / daddy!steve x reader )

❤ what a man *18+ ( coming soon! ) – @loveshotzz ( eddie as a bouncer, steve as a bartender, need i say more?? • steve harrington x eddie munson x reader )

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crappymixtape · 1 year

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shut up and kiss me

you get laid off and go back to hawkins for the weekend to wallow, steve picks you up from the bus station to hang out with your friends to try and clear your head, but the gang has other ideas and seizes the opportunity to try and get you two dummies to figure it out | ( 5.7k – fluff, a little angst, mostly fluff, friends to lovers, steve x you, steve x reader ) REQUEST @kimmyiewrites → fluff prompts number 25 "shut up and kiss me”

S H U T U P A N D K I S S M E 🎶 aubrey plaza - nick ward

The windows were all down as you rolled along the road in Steve’s BMW, cassettes strewn along the center console, half empty Coke bottles clinking in the drink holders. Sun beamed heavy on your bare legs, hot and sticky in the Indiana heat, summer holding you tight in its bright grasp.

You should’ve been excited, should’ve been looking forward to seeing everyone, but you weren’t. You’d called him as soon as you’d gotten home from work, your cardboard box of things sitting on the counter as you cried quietly into the receiver. Told him about the layoffs. About worrying over rent and food and finding a new gig and he just listened. He always listened. Knew what you needed before you did and after your parents told you to come home for a weekend he told you he’d pick you up from the station.

As soon as you stepped off the bus he pulled you in close, hugged you into his chest warm and familiar. Safe. You had a permanent frown on your lips and he tried to make you feel better. Tried all his stupid jokes, played Blondie for you in the car, bought a couple sodas and some snacks at a gas station on the way back into town.

It had helped a little, but you were swimming in anxiety, anticipating questions asking how you were, what were you up to, when you were going back. A muddled mixture of embarrassment, frustration, and sadness sat thick in your chest and you pushed a sigh from your lips and it made Steve look over at you from the driver’s seat.

“Doin’ okay over there?” he asked gently, a soft tease tinged with concern.

A sound came from you, somewhere between a grumble and another sigh and he gave you a lopsided smile.

“Well, it’ll be better once we’re back. Max won’t shut up about it,” he reached a finger over to poke at your ribs and you swatted it away grumpily, but your frown had softened at his mention of the red-headed girl.

“Yeah?” you gave into his bait and his smile grew.

“Yeah. And Dustin’s got a new antenna set up he won’t shut up about, so. Can’t wait to not be the only other person listening to him brag about not needing all those stupid D batteries.”

That got you to finally crack a smile and you tried to hide it behind your Coke bottle, but he caught it and turned to look at you all smug, just a hint of King Steve, your best friend.

“Quiet you,” you grumbled again and he hummed in satisfaction, putting his eyes back to the road.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Mmhm, just drive.”

Steve pulled into the Wheeler’s driveway and your stomach sank at the balloons tied to the mailbox. Pink and orange and yellow and loud and you groaned, slumping in your seat, hands covering your face.

“You’re fine,” Steve shifted into park and turned to look at you, one of his hands reaching over to pull one of yours away from your face. “C’mon, I didn’t say anything, promise.”

You fixed him with a look, I can’t go in there, and he gently flicked your hand with his fingers. Playful. Reassuring. Still so much boy despite the years he’d grown.

“They really do want to see you. I just told them you’re visiting for a while, took some time off. C’mon.”

Closing your eyes for a minute you sucked in a breath, trying to steady yourself, and when you opened them again you thought maybe you could do it. You did miss everyone something fierce despite visits over the holidays, spring break, summer, whenever you could spare it honestly and when you looked over at Steve he wiggled his eyebrows at you.

“I’ll even go in before you and take the silly string Sinclair and Mike are planning on spraying you with,” he offered and it pulled a laugh from you and he beamed. “There it is. You’re fine, it’ll be fun.”

Reaching over he clicked your buckle open for you before piling out of the car and you felt your stomach flip over as you followed.

Going up the front walk felt like it took ages, like you were moving through molasses, and when Steve lifted his hand to the doorknob you froze.

“Steve,” you stuttered and he looked over his shoulder at you, big brown eyes wide, wondering, waiting.

“Yeah?” his hand dropped.

The words wouldn’t come and his brows knitted together, sympathetic and soft. He grabbed your hand in his and squeezed it, giving you a little smile and nodded toward the door.

“It’s okay,” he murmured and turned back to the door, knocking overly hard. “Hello!” his voice was comically loud and you felt your cheeks flush, laughing and pushing at him and he gave you a grin. “Just me, your friendly neighbor Steve!”

“Oh my god, shut up,” you hissed through the grin that was creeping across your own lips now and he laughed too.

You could hear a commotion behind the door. Too-loud whispers, a yelp, someone dropping something and a bang against the wall and Steve gave you a look. “What in the hell is going on in there?” he whispered and you snorted, but then the door swung open and you both turned quick.

“Oh, whaaat? No one said you were coming!” Dustin’s voice was a pitch too high, cracking at the end as he tried to feign surprise and you had to bite your lips in to not laugh.

Steve rolled his eyes and you kicked the toe of his shoe with yours.

“Yeah! Here I am!” you played along, shoving your shoulder into Steve’s arm, holding him to his silly string promise as he stumbled in through the door before you and right on cue Lucas and Mike sprang out with two cans each, unloading them all too enthusiastically.

“GOTCHA!” they both yelled and Steve made a strangled noise as his arms flew up to cover his face, streams of blue and purple string covering his hair, his shoulders, his hands.

That finally pulled a real laugh from your lungs, one that should’ve embarrassed you, but it felt too good and when you saw Robin and Eddie doubled over behind Lucas, laughing so hard they were silent, it lifted the weight from your shoulders. Home. Your friends. A moment to just be.

“Okay, okay! Jesus, I think you got it!” Steve blindly waved both arms in front of him, hoping to smack at least one of the boys, but they were both too quick and snuck a high five while your best friend flailed.

Max was popping her gum when you looked up to see who else was inside and as Robin moved to help Steve with the two cans worth of silly string that had settled into his hair everyone crowded around.

“We ordered pizza for later!” El said, eyes bright and smile the same, soft and kind.

“And a movie!” chimed Will.

Max scoffed, “Pfft. Yeah. I wanted Predator, but someone had to veto.”

“Listen you, Dirty Dancing is a fucking masterpiece,” Eddie leveled the younger girl with a look, silver-ringed finger pointing at her with intent and she rolled her eyes.

“Whatever,” Max grumbled, but when you gave her a grin she smirked back.

“You and Steve can go get the pizza, it’ll be ready in a couple hours,” Nancy popped out from the kitchen with a wave, Jonathan close behind, “Mom and dad are outta town this weekend so, house to ourselves!”

“RAGER,” Dustin yelped and Steve reached over to roughly tousle his hair.

“Alright, pipe down,” he chided and Nancy waved the towel in her hand at everyone.

“You’re all gonna help clean up when we’re done,” her tone was firm, the same as it always was. Everyone murmured in agreement, a Yes ma’am mumbled from Robin, not one of them wanting to bring the wrath of Nancy upon themselves.

Then, once everyone had gotten a hug or a high five or secret handshake in Max’s case, they all dispersed into the house leaving you and Steve and Dustin in the entryway.

“Thanks for this,” you said quietly to the younger boy, a flush creeping across your cheeks and he gave you a big, wide smile. Reassuring and sweet.

“Duh,” he shot back and with a wink went to follow his friends into the kitchen. “Don’t forget, pizza soon or you’ll have a mutiny on your hands!” he called over his shoulder and you shook your head.

“I swear to god, age means nothing. They’re all still a bunch of little shitheads,” Steve muttered, taking your hand and pulling you along to join everyone else.

You fell into things so easy, just like you always did despite all of you being a little older, though you didn’t feel any wiser. A tangle of arms and legs sprawled across the couch, the floor, voices mingling together, laughter punching holes in conversation as the day spun on. Like nothing had changed.

For everyone else you were sure time was cruel. Tore people apart and drove them away, but with you, with your friends, your family it was different. With them, with you, every hug, every laugh, every smile, every little look was precious because you’d all been through hell and back.

Had watched the earth rip and tear open, gashes swallowing your home and setting loose an evil force that only you all knew how to stop. Had saved each other from the kind of monsters you thought only existed in your nightmares. You’d seen how well Steve could swing a bat full of nails, you learned how to shoot a gun, had made decisions that were life or death, watched your friends all do and endure things that they shouldn’t have.

It was survival mode.

It was patching Steve up every time he got his ass kicked. It was crawling into the shower and scrubbing and scrubbing and scrubbing because the ash and the blood and the dirt wouldn’t come off. It was everyone piled together in the living room shoulder-to-shoulder to sleep at night because you couldn’t bear to leave, so fucking relieved they were all still alive.

Maybe if things had been different you could’ve told him. Your best friend could’ve become something more, but it was all of you at the end of the world with no guarantees and maybe it was easier to tell yourself the feelings that swelled in your chest were friendship because then if you’d lost one another it’d make it hurt less.

But after you’d come out alive, the Upside Down shut out forever, you felt like you had to leave. Had to physically move to get Hawkins, to get the monsters off your skin, but as soon as you’d opened your first box in your new apartment to unpack you knew you’d made a mistake.

And so you were here. Stuck in this weird in between. Calling Steve every day, like he was your boyfriend. Holding his hand and getting drinks and going to the movies together every time you came home, like he was your boyfriend. Letting him give you a ride home because it was too late, like he was your boyfriend. Never making it home and fumbling up the stairs into his room, like he was your boyfriend.

Everyone else saw it.

Everyone, but you two.

“Hey,” a hand reached up from the carpet and punched into Steve’s leg.

You were sitting pressed thigh to thigh next to him on the couch watching Lucas and Will play the NES Mike had gotten for his birthday, both of them swearing under their breaths in the hope that Nancy wouldn’t hear.

“What the hell, Henderson?” Steve shot back, swatting at the back of his head and Dustin yelped.

“Pizza,” the younger boy drew the word out, all sass and attitude and you held back a snicker.

“Oh,” fell out of Steve’s mouth and he glanced down at his watch then over at you, “Alright, yeah. Guess we gotta go.”

“There’re five of them,” Nance said from where she was snuggled up tight against Jonathan in her dad’s old La-Z-Boy, “Cash is by the door.”

Steve looked over to see a mason jar sitting on the entryway table crammed full of ones and a ton of change and he closed his eyes, fingers moving to pinch at the bridge of his nose, “Great, cool, perfect.”

You had to stifle a laugh as Max glared up from her spot on the floor next to Lucas. Lips twisted in her signature scowl she quirked a brow at him, “What, pizza’s on you then, dad?”

Lucas snorted and tried to cover it up poorly with a cough.

“Little shitheads, all of you,” Steve made a point to wag a finger at them, but everyone ignored him, only a single middle finger raised in reply from Mike. Steve jammed his tongue into his cheek, cursing under his breath as you both got up from the couch and he took your hand in his, “C’mon.”

“Drive safe!” Dustin said, all sing-songy and taunting. Reaching into his back pack he pulled out an extra walkie and chucked it at Steve who fumbled it against his chest, but caught it and hissed more swears but much louder this time.

“Jesus, watch it! What do we need this for?”

“Just in case,” the younger boy said, matter of fact, and Steve sighed.

“Dart and all his shitty little brothers and sisters are dead, Henderson.”

“Just. In. Case,” Dustin repeated and with a shake of his head Steve gave up, pulling you wordlessly out the door and to the car.

The pizza shop felt like a sauna, so damn hot, and as you dumped the change on the counter – because Steve would rather have fought a demogorgon than be the one to pay – the kid standing behind the register scowled at you. He didn’t even bother counting it, just armed the contents into his drawer and shoved the jar back at you.

“Thanks for choosing Life of Pie,” he grumbled, happy to be rid of you both as you struggled not to laugh, but Steve was dying of embarrassment and as soon as the pizza was in-hand he had you back in the car again.

“Paying in all change? Christ,” he muttered, roughing a hand over his face and you finally let loose a laugh.

“Money’s money, Harrington,” you snarked and he shot you a look, but it didn’t hold any heat. It was fond, a flicker of a grin at the way you teased him, he loved it.

“A jar of dimes and pennies? No way, you can’t tell me–” but he stopped short when a crackle of static scratched from the back seat.

“Scoops Troop this is Griswold Family, we have a situation. Do you copy? Over.”

Heads turning at the same time you met Steve’s eyes across the center console, a familiar panic creeping in around the edges of you. Wrapping you up in its grasp and squeezing your chest tight as you tried to swallow it down. That part of your life was over. Wasn’t it?

“Scoops Troop, this is Griswold Family, code red! Do you copy?? Over!”

“What the hell?” Steve’s voice was tinged with the same nerves that gripped you now, but he was working real hard to keep it controlled. Trying to be level-headed. Not jump to conclusions. His brows furrowed, a deep pinch growing between them as he looked at you, praying to whatever god there was that this wasn’t happening and then he tossed his gaze over his shoulder to the back seat.

Shaking yourself you turned awkwardly against your seatbelt, scrambling between the pizzas to grab the walkie. “Griswold Family this is Scoops Troop, w–we copy. What’s going on?” your hand was shaking as you released the talk button, but then you quickly pressed it again as you remembered, “Over.”

“We have a situation, not secure to disclose details here. Proceed to the rendez-vous point at Weathertop. Over!”

Weathertop. The bluff. The giant-ass hill you’d dragged Dustin’s antenna up all those summers ago. The place where you went when everything was going wrong. The place where Suzie saved the world.

Steve grabbed the walkie out of your hand. “What d’you mean a situation? Henderson, I’m gonna need more than that,” his tone was even-keeled, but it held an urgency that made your stomach flip.

Silence greeted both of you on the other end of the walkie and Steve jammed the button down again, “Hey, dickhead, did you hear me?” Nothing. “Henderson?” Still nothing and when Steve pressed the button again you heard his tone shift with worry, but it wasn’t the change in his voice that got you. It was what he said. “Dustin?”

Dustin. Not Henderson. Not asshole. Not little shithead.

Dustin.

Huffing a heavy breath through his nose he crammed the walkie into your lap and shook his head, but didn’t hesitate, not for one second as he flipped a u-turn right there in the middle of the street, the wheels of his BMW squealing against the pavement.

“Shit,” he hissed under his breath, knuckles turning white as he gripped the steering wheel. “There’s–there’s no way. Right?” his voice was pitched higher, reaching, grasping for reality and your stomach twisted uncomfortably. When you didn’t say anything he glanced over at you, shaking his head, practically begging you to answer him, “Right?”

“I don’t know!” came out harsher than you’d wanted it to and you screwed your eyes shut, biting the inside of your cheek to try and bring yourself back to reality. “I don’t know, Steve. I didn’t think so,” you tried again, but he didn’t say anything back and it dragged you back to the moment you decided to leave Hawkins.

“What d’you mean you’re leaving?”

“I don’t know, Steve! I’m leaving. Moving away? Not staying in Hawkins?”

“Okay, alright. You don’t need to be shitty about it.”

“I’m being shitty?”

“Yeah. You’re being shitty. You act like there’s nothing here for you, like nobody gives a shit about you, but you know that’s not true.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Might as well.”

Steve was standing in the doorway to your room, arms crossed over his chest like he did when he had built a wall around himself for protection. Preservation.

You’d asked him over so that you could tell him your plans, tell your best friend you were leaving. It had gone so much better in your head, promising to still talk all the time and visit and things wouldn’t change, but Steve had seen right through it and called you on your bullshit.

“You’re still my best friend,” you protested, taking a couple of steps toward him and he scoffed.

“What is this really about?” he asked, mirroring you and moving into the room, moving toward you.

“Steve…”

“They’re gone! It’s over, you saw the same thing I did. He’s dead.”

Roughing your hands over your face you felt a lump forming in your throat. “It doesn’t matter–”

“Doesn’t matter? C’mon, it’s safe! You don’t need to worry about–”

“Steve!” your hands fell away from your face, tears clinging along the long sweep of your lashes, tone sharp. Hurt. You closed the last few steps between the two of you and tilted your chin up to look into his eyes, to make sure he really heard you, “I can’t wash it off. It’s still there.”

“What’s still there?” he asked, clueless, but ready to prove you wrong.

“All of it. The dirt under my fingernails. That sticky fucking ash, I swear I can still smell it,” your words grew thick with the tears that were welling up. “Blood,” was said softly and you felt a tear slip free down your cheek, “Your blood. My blood. Max’s. Dustin’s. Eddie’s. Robin’s–”

“Hey. Hey,” his arms wrapped tight around you, warm and big and safe and for a second you felt yourself calm. Felt yourself melting into him and you pulled in a shaky breath.

“Steve,” your voice was muffled against his shirt and he let up a little so he could meet your gaze. “I can’t stay.”

And the look you gave him then shattered what little resolve he’d been holding onto because he finally understood. He knew. Knew what it felt like. Still struggled with the nightmares. Still swore he too could smell the sickly ash that fell from the sky in the Upside Down. He understood, but it still hurt.

Letting out a sigh, he didn’t know what to say. All he wanted was you. For you to stay. To say you loved him as much as he loved you, but he got it. The last few years had fucked everything up and while you’d all come out the other side you were changed. Different. And shit, maybe Steve wished he could leave too.

But instead he just pulled you in close again, hugging you tight to his chest, smoothing a hand over your hair and letting his shirt catch your tears as you let them come.

“Jesus!” the backs of your thighs lifted from the seat as Steve jerked the steering wheel hard left.

“Shit, sorry,” he winced with the uneven terrain, pulling off the main road into long, thick grass and through the still broken fence posts you’d first plowed through during Starcourt. The pizza in the backseat bumped with every dirt clod and pot hole and mole hill he ran over until he threw it in park, both of your head’s whipping forward with the sudden stop of movement.

“C’mon,” he unbuckled your belt, then his before reaching over the seat for the walkie and hopping out of the car.

The BMW had made it a little higher than the Todd Father had, but there was still plenty of bluff to climb and when you came around to meet him at the front of the car he grabbed your hand in his.

It’s gonna be fine. It’s gonna be fine. It’s gonna be fine.

Ran on repeat in your head as you tried your best to match Steve’s long strides up the hill, both of you sucking in air as you practically ran, sweat clinging to your foreheads and chests heaving with the effort. At least it was daytime now and you could see where you were going, unlike last time when it’d been the middle of the fucking night.

You thought about what you were going to do if the Upside Down was back, if Vecna was back, and fear brushed against you, an old familiar friend. Made you want to run, want to go back to your apartment and ignore it all and pretend that it wasn’t real, but you watched as Steve ran a hand through his hair. Watched as he climbed. Always so damn comfortable with the panic as it swelled in his chest. Faced it head-on. There wasn’t another option for him. It was simple.

His friends were in danger and he had to do something.

He’d always been braver than you, had always been there to hold your hand through it, always there to encourage you and tell you you could do it. You had it in you. Just a little further and it wasn’t any different when you were little.

Sharing ice cream when one of you tipped yours onto the sidewalk, putting bandaids on each other after scraping your knee when you fell of your bike, rocks on your window well past your bedtime when you were sad and needed company, snuck kisses behind the garden gate when you’d break up with your asshole boyfriend and all you wanted was Steve.

Plenty of too-long pauses and out of breath hesitations that should’ve been filled with I really, really like you. Hell, even I love you and you thought as you climbed that maybe this was it. Maybe you should tell him because maybe you wouldn’t get another chance and the thought of not having him, the thought of losing him again, was unbearable.

“Christ,” Steve heaved, pulling you out of your thoughts as you reached the top. Dustin’s new antenna came into view and while you didn’t know much about radios it was impressive.

Cerebro 2.0. Almost all new parts, nothing bent the wrong way, receiver free of most scratches and dings. A real radio. You almost smiled, but Steve had stopped short and let go of your hand.

“What the…” bending down he crouched next to a small portable stereo that you hadn’t noticed, looking up at you in utter confusion. It was right in front of the receiver with a piece of white printer paper taped to the front. Snatching the note he held it up to you, “I’m sorry, what is this?”

His expression was unimpressed. Irritated. Almost angry and your eyes flicked over to read the messily scribbled red pen.

Push Play.

“I–I dunno–” you mumbled, grabbing it from him and reading it again. It looked like…”–did Robin write it?”

Grumbling under his breath Steve yanked the walkie out from his back pocket and jammed the button down, “Listen here you little shitheads, what is this, huh?”

There was a small crackle of static and then, “Call sign please.”

Steve closed his eyes and pulled in a breath. A silent prayer to give him the strength to not strangle Dustin Henderson when he got down the hill. “Griswold Family this is Scoops Troop, do you copy? Over,” he said the last word like a curse and when Dustin replied his voice was full of cheek.

“Scoops Troop, this is Griswold Family, hear you loud and clear! Over.”

“What the hell is going on? Over,” Steve huffed a sigh, jaw clenched as he waited for the response, but you grabbed the walkie instead and put it down in the grass. “What–what’re you doing?” he asked, waving his arm down at the walkie.

“Nothing’s wrong,” you said, shaking your head, and Steve looked like he was going to implode.

“Nothing’s wrong? I’m sorry, no one’s dying? Why’d they call a damn code red if–”

“Steve,” you grabbed his hand. Leaning down you pressed a finger against the play button on the stereo and it whirred to life.

A piano started playing, notes you knew by heart and when you realized what it was you couldn’t help but look up at Steve. His expression softened too and he slowly lowered the hand that had been holding the piece of paper as the song spun on.

Restless hearts, sleep alone tonight, sendin' all my love along the wire…

“Oh, girl, you stand byyyy me!” Steve belted out, tugging the hand of yours he was holding and yanking you into him, pulling a laugh from your lips as you spun around the kitchen together. It was Christmas Eve and snow fell outside covering everything in a soft blanket of white.

“I'm forever yoooours, faithfully!” you sang back, a little unsteady on your feet from all the beer, the sounds of everyone else laughing and shouting from the living room bleeding into the music as it played loud through the stereo on the counter.

“The voice of an angel,” Steve said and you nodded, grinning up at him as he gently swayed you back and forth.

“Not a bad name either,” you teased back and he gave you a grin of his own, chest puffed out proudly.

“Listen, no one is as good as Perry,” he said quite seriously, speaking of his favorite singer with reverence, but then he looked down at you and his expression softened into something warmer. Something familiar, but different. “But I’ll sing with you anytime,” he finished and you felt your breath catch in your throat as the arm he had round your waist pulled you closer, the wide expanse of his hand pressed into the small of your back.

You could see all the little freckles that chased across his cheeks, the twin moles along his jawline, long sweep of lashes hiding big, brown eyes that were warm and gold and hazy like whiskey.

He swallowed and you watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat, his lips parted but hesitating, unsure of what he wanted to say.

“Steve?” you asked and he blinked a couple of times as if to try and gather his thoughts that you’d scattered across the kitchen just by saying his name.

“Yeah?” he leaned down into you, so close you could feel his breath as it warmed over your cheek, could feel his chest pressed into yours, swore you could hear his heart beating just as loud as yours.

“Oh god, this song again? Harrington, c'mon,” Eddie stomped into the kitchen with his boots, pulling Steve’s eyes up from you to glare at your friend as he wrenched the fridge open for another beer.

“Really?” Steve shot, a simple one-word question that held a staggering weight and as Eddie cracked the can open he stopped short of bringing it to his lips, looking like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“What?” Eddie asked, but then his eyes flicked from you to Steve to you and back to Steve and his eyes grew wide. “Oh. Oh, shit. I’m sorry, you were gonna like–” and then he made a kissy face at you both and Steve’s cheeks burned bright red as he squeezed his eyes shut.

Biting your lips in against a laugh you buried your head into Steve’s chest and groaned weakly.

“Don’t worry, I gotcha,” Eddie said with a wink before slowly backing out of the kitchen, “I was never here.”

Steve heaved a sigh and he gently squeezed you in his arms, never really able to just have a minute but still so thankful to have what you did. To have your friends. To have this. Have Steve.

“Merry Christmas,” he murmured and you wrapped your arms tight around him as he softly pressed his lips to the top of your head.

And being apart ain't easy on this love affair, two strangers learn to fall in love again.

The wind picked up across the bluff, tugging at the piece of paper Steve was holding and pulling it from his hand. He scrambled to grab it, but the wind swept it off into the grass that rolled like the ocean and he buried his face in his hands and let out a frustrated groan.

You felt your heart racing in your chest, finally realizing why your friends had pushed you up here, watching as Steve fought the same feelings that had wrapped themselves around you. Realizing this was it. The moment you threw it all into the wind with the paper, the moment you said to hell with it, said what you’d wanted to say all those times before but couldn’t.

I get the joy of rediscovering you.

“They called us all the way up here to listen to a song? I thought someone was hurt! Or–or some nasty flesh monster decided to start melting people again!”

“Steve–”

“What are we twelve? This is ridiculous. And totally irresponsible. We’re still like, at least ten minutes from Nancy’s. The pizza’s probably already cold and no one’s gonna want to eat it and–”

“Steve!” you shouted again, voice breaking through his rambling and he stopped, hair wild from running his hands through it and just stared at you.

“What?” he said, tone short and breathless. His heart was pounding in his chest, reeling from the overwhelming sense of relief, but unable to gain footing against the anxiety dump.

Oh, girl, you stand by me.

You grabbed his hands in yours, gently pulling him closer and closer until you were toe-to-toe, close enough to see his breathing even out. Close enough to see his eyes grow a little less wild, felt him tangle his fingers with yours trying to root himself in reality through you and the way you were looking at him.

“Shut up and kiss me,” you whispered and he hesitated for a split second, brows pulled together at the thought of what this meant, almost pained, but then he closed his eyes and you exhaled. Soft relief, anticipation, finally.

And he leaned down, catching your bottom lip between his in a kiss that said everything you’d wished you’d said so much sooner. A promise you’d made to each other so many times before, but never said aloud. Steve. Your best friend. Your everything.

I'm forever yours, faithfully.

It was slow, tender, planted itself in your chest and bloomed like wildflowers in the field. It was warm like watching the sunset light up the sky from the hood of Steve’s car, sweet like strawberry milkshakes and whipped cream and cherries. Soft like the promises you’d whispered to each other in the dark and when he finally pulled away you fought against a smile, a small laugh falling from your lips.

Steve grinned down at you and gave the same little laugh, still leaned in close as he pulled in his bottom lip. “That little shit,” he murmured and your smile grew into a grin.

“Too big for his britches,” you teased and Steve laughed again, bigger this time and lifted a hand to your cheek, but his expression softened the longer he looked at you.

“No, he’s right,” he admitted and your smile fell a bit at the seriousness of his tone. “I should’ve done this a long time ago.”

Leaning into his touch you reached up to push his hair out of his eyes and let your hand trail down the line of his jaw, feeling him under your fingertips. “Doesn’t matter,” you murmured, “You can have all of my time, Steve Harrington.”

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist

#requests #asks #makeacrappymixtape #i love my bbs #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington stranger things #steve stranger things #steve x you #steve fanfic #steve x reader #steve x fem #steve harrington fic

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crappymixtape · 8 months

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crappymixtape recos

going to try and do this at least once a month – sharing fics that have just blown me away ❤ so many talented writers on here omg 🥺 show them some love and BE KIND, REBLOG! xoxo, 💿

❤ remus being mood(n)y – @luveline ( remus says something he shouldn't before the full moon, and later campaigns for your forgiveness with affection and a confession, fem!reader • remus x reader )

❤ ”become the sun” – @headkiss ( figuring out how to move on from life in hawkins, steve takes a trip to the beach, where he meets you, who becomes his tour guide and maybe more than that • steve x reader )

❤ ”my name is what you decide” series, 18+ only – @upsidedownwithsteve ( you’d learned well before then how to tell the difference between new money and old money and Steve Harrington was old, old money • steve x reader )

❤ ”tenderly, tragically” series, 18+ only – @upsidedownwithsteve ( friends with benefits, but oh no! there's feelings – canon adjacent, kind of? smut, summer, car sex • steve x reader )

❤ summer fic-fest: the masterlist 18+ only – @lovebugism ( here you will find the entire collection of summer fic fest drabbles, organized by character and theme, for your viewing pleasure • steve / eddie x reader )

❤ whatta man: halloween edition coming soon! 18+ only – @loveshotzz ( one shots for both steve and eddie at the halloween party at the bar – covers steve’s night where you realize all the girls have a crush on the bouncer at the foxy lounge // eddie’s night where the bartender’s not the only one at the foxy lounge who likes your costume tonight • steve / eddie x reader )

❤ ”can’t keep my hands to myself” 18+ only – @theemporium ( it was a placebo effect, you were so sure of it, but a deal with your boyfriend makes you rethink your stance on the aphrodisiac-laced chocolate • eddie x reader )

❤ eddie comfort – @wroteclassicaly 18+ only ( TW: depression, anxiety, mentions of past trauma/injury (Eddie’s wounds), & mental illness (reader has bipolar disorder) // hurt that ends in comfort, angst with a happy ending, friends to lovers, fluff • eddie x reader )

❤ of summer and soulmates series, eddie's story 18+ only – @lofaewrites ( TW: read at the link! // a modern soulmate au + songfic series • eddie x "popular" reader )

❤ of summer and soulmates series, steve's story 18+ only – @lofaewrites ( TW: read at the link! // a modern soulmate au + songfic series • steve x reader )

❤ "orange juice" 18+ only – @sattlersquarry ( TW: read at the link! // steve's world changes in the worst way when he loses you – he struggles to move on, but he learns he might not have to when he miraculously gets a second chance with you • steve x reader )

❤ "be patient" – @livingintheupsidedown ( TW: PTSD, trauma // after everything that happened at star court, steve's struggling more than he realised • steve x reader )

❤ "august" a no good at waiting one shot – @familyvideostevie ( what steve and bee girl are up to this summer – fluff, angst, miscommunication, musings about making choices, and lots of love • steve x bee girl )

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crappymixtape · 6 months

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because of you • ( teaser )

TEASER FOR @sattlersquarry from my 500 follower mixtape requests – okay well this is going to be long af, LOL 😵‍💫♥️ – xoxo

The steam from the shower felt like it was swallowing you whole. Filled the air around you and made everything hazy. Made it feel otherworldly, like heaven, and as you stared you watched the water falling down your body turn rusty. Mixing with the dirt and ash and blood from your skin and carrying it down the drain. Washing away any remaining proof that interdimensional monsters are real and that you’d nearly died killing them. The only things left hinting at what had been life or death would be all the little silvery scars after your wounds healed.

You turned the heat up and as more steam clouded the stall, you felt a warmth wrap itself around you. One that felt deeper than the hot water. Like a heavy cloak draping over you and you wanted to let it swallow you whole. Wanted to nestle into it and succumb to the deep, soft feeling it was pouring into you and your vision started to blur at the edges.

“Oh–” you half-gasped. Stumbled as the world swam in front of you. Pressed a hand heavy against the wall to steady yourself and your fingers slipped against the tile.

“Hey! Whoa, whoa, whoa–”

Suddenly someone was opening the shower, sucking out the steam and a shock of cold air hit you as Steve filled the door frame.

“Shit, hang on–” he swore softly and stepped in with you still wearing his jeans and Eddie’s vest. Water soaking him from head to toe, he gently looped an arm around your waist and held you steady. “I got you, I got you,” he said, voice barely above a whisper, and it pulled your gaze up.

Water clinging to your lashes, your lids were heavy as you blinked and when he finally came into focus it made your heart ache. A deep pinch between his brows, eyes searching yours and trying to work out what he needed to do to fix you. What he needed to do to keep you here. God he wanted to keep you.

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crappymixtape · 1 year

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come back to me • part three

PART ONE HERE • PART TWO HERE // after steve gets his heart broken by nancy, tommy dares him to try something different as a rebound, someone who isn’t his type at all, and at first he’s doing it to prove a point, but when the upside down gets involved he realizes just how he really feels • 18+ | ( 4.1k – violence / upside down, lots of angst, some fluff, enemies to lovers-ish, steve x reader, king!steve x reader ) REQUEST @carinacassiopeiae → king!steve, reformed!king steve x reader

C O M E B A C K T O M E • P T. 3 🎶 final girl - eva rose

“Where is it? Henderson, where is it??”

Steve’s chest was heaving, stance wide and ready to take another swing as he looked frantically around the living room you’d just stepped into. The curly-haired boy you’d remembered was cowering behind him, hands on the backs of Steve’s shoulders and looking just as panicked.

“Shit! Shit, shit shit,” lisped swears fell from the younger boy’s mouth, one after the other as he squeezed the talk button on his walkie, “CODE RED, I REPEAT, CODE RED! Mike! Lucas?? Will! God dammit, anyone??”

The Christmas lights had stopped flickering, but there was gaping a hole in the ceiling and the carpet was ripped and covered in blood and slime. Whose blood, you didn’t know, but you’d yanked the door open hard enough it hit the wall behind you and pulled the attention of both boys.

“Wha–why aren’t you in the car??” the expression on Steve’s face was a mixture of anger and desperation because he knew what you’d just walked into, but he didn’t know if he could protect you from it. Hell he could barely protect himself from it and the sudden realization of you getting hurt all because of him was enough to make him want to throw up.

“Oh, like I’m gonna just sit there and–” but then your eyes settled on him.

A fresh cut across his cheek, red and angry. The knee on his jeans ripped out, exposing a nasty gash that was staining the denim a deep, dark crimson.

The blood on the carpet was his.

“Jesus, Steve. Are you oka–” you took another step into the room, but Steve threw a hand up, cutting you off.

“No! Stop!”

The Christmas lights started to flicker again and Steve’s head whipped back around to look up at the erratic, blinking bulbs.

“Shit!” the curly-haired boy hissed again and your frustration reached a peak.

“Will someone please tell me what’s going on??”

But then the lights buzzed. Squealing and burning bright florescent with a surge of electricity before shattering with a loud pop and showering you all in tiny shards of glass. All sound was sucked out of the room, your frantic breathing the only thing breaking the silence.

Your ears were straining in the dark for any kind of hint about what was going on and for a second you thought it was just the storm outside until you heard it. A low, rumbling growl from the hallway. One that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand straight up and it was all you needed to know. Whatever it was? It was bad.

“Fuck, get behind me!” Steve yelled and this time you listened.

Pressed in close to the curly-haired boy you chanced a look over Steve’s shoulder.

Eerie, dim light fell in through the windows and gaps between the curtains. Casting deep shadows over the kitchen table, the couch, the frame of the hallway, but it was just enough for you to make out a figure.

Low to the ground. Thick and sinewy. All muscle. Glistening and wet and and carrying with it the smell of something rotting. Decay.

Death.

You felt your breath quicken, warming over the fabric of Steve’s shirt as you pressed yourself even closer, the muscles across his back pulling tight as he squeezed the bat in his hands. There was a moment of pause, a second where you wanted to believe what your mind was telling you, it’s just a dog, but deep down you knew it wasn’t.

Your voice was barely a whisper, hushed as it left your lips. “What the hell is that–” but then the thing howled, a horrible sound that sucked the air from your lungs as it snarled, feeding off your fear.

You could make it out better as it stepped into a sliver of light and what you saw made you feel sick. Nauseous. Claws stained red with blood, a head that split five ways, covered in razor sharp teeth spun messy and lethal around its gaping mouth and god you wished you’d listened to Steve. Wished you’d stayed in the car. Wished you’d kept walking home in the rain and the wind, but you didn’t and–

Another screech came from the monster and it leapt into motion, cutting the distance between you in a second and knocking all three of you to the ground as Steve swung and missed. It was a tangle of limbs, all of you scrambling to try and get back to your feet, to run away, but you couldn’t get any traction as your shoes slipped in slime.

“Dustin, the fucking gas! Where’s the gas??”

“Jesus Christ, I dunno! Shit, shit shit shit!”

Your hands finally grabbed hold of the edge of the couch, trying to pull yourself up as Steve and Dustin clambered away, but a scream broke your concentration and it took a second to realize where it was coming from.

You.

Razor sharp teeth tore and dug into your leg, white hot searing pain gripping you like a vice as you felt it pulling you. Dragging you and shaking you from side to side like a rag doll until your hands lost their grip on the couch and you fell to the floor on your back.

Hands scrambling for something, anything, you grabbed hold of an ashtray on the coffee table and smashed it into the side of the monster’s head, but it barely flinched. Instead sinking its teeth deeper into your skin. Blood, your blood, wet and red staining your washed jeans as the monster bit down even harder. You let loose another cry, this one more desperate, pained, afraid.

“Steve! Fuck, oh god oh fuck. Steve!”

You were crying openly now, sobs falling from you in gasps and it only seemed to egg the monster on. Letting your leg drop it growled again, a low rumble that pulled another whimper from you. It crawled up your body and snarled down at you, saw-toothed head shaking, petals splayed and hungry. Saliva dripping from it’s mouth onto your cheeks, your neck, the floor and it hit you.

You were gonna die.

You‘d never felt that way before, but you knew it. Torn to shreds by some inter-dimensional monster from hell because of Steve fucking Harrington and Homecoming and stupid boys and finally your sister would get to wear your clothes without a fight, but then you heard him.

“Hey! Asshole!”

Steve’s voice was shaking. He thought you’d gotten up with him, thought you’d scrambled away on Dustin’s heels, but the sound of you crying out had stopped him in his tracks. Fear gripped him in that moment. Held him tight and squeezed with the threat of losing you. Losing this person he’d found something with. Someone he cared about. Someone else to be snatched away from him without a second thought and when he saw the way you were looking at him, the way you needed him, there was only one thing he could do.

Sucking in a breath and holding it heavy in his lungs like plunging into cold water, Steve braced himself. Lips twisted, fixed and mean, he didn’t hesitate. Not for one second.

A blunt thwack! split the air as the nail-filled bat held tight in Steve's fists cut through the air, connecting with the head of the monster towering over you and crushing it down into the ground with another horrible shriek.

“You want some more, huh?? C’mon. C’mon, asshole!” the boy huffed with effort as he gave a muscled pull, dislodging the bat and pulling an awful howl from the creature that tore the air in two.

Steve stood over it still gripping the bat, chest heaving and sweat beading along his forehead. Cast both in dark shadows and slivers of light from the windows and for a split second he scared you, but not because of all this. Not the monster, not the bat, not the way he swung for the fences. Because of you.

The flicker in your chest. The embers that had crackled with warmth, glowing to life the first time he sat in your kitchen. Burning brighter and brighter every time his fingers brushed yours. Every time he gave you that stupid lopsided smile. Grinned at you over the pages of your Thrasher magazine. Even in the way he made you angry.

Angrier than you’d ever felt. Made you want to drive your fists into his chest. Tell him to wake up. Tell him you actually liked him. Liked him, liked him and you hoped, no prayed, you were gonna get the chance to say it.

The monster tried to get up and take another lunge at Steve, but he was too quick. Bat in hand and already swinging it through the air, it hit with another sick crunch and pulled a shriek from its gaping mouth as it fell to the floor in a writhing heap.

“Dustin, you two get outta here!” Steve ordered. He’d bought himself a few seconds and tried to loop his arms under you as gently as he could, but you let out another cry in pain. “Shit, I’m sorry,” and he meant it, brows knitted together as he looked at you. So fucking sorry. Tears welling up along the line of his lashes.

“Wait, the gas!” Dustin traded Steve a red, sloshing can for your arm around his shoulder as he helped you stand and when he pulled you to the door another angry screech came from the monster. You were getting away.

Tears still streaming down your cheeks, Dustin did his best to get you out onto the porch before you stopped him. “W-wait,” you held him back, “Steve. We can’t–what if doesn’t make it–”

“Oh, he’ll make it,” Dustin reassured you without a shred of doubt and turned slightly so you could look back through the door.

A calculated kick to the head from Steve’s dirty Blazer sent the monster back to the ground and he didn’t wait to start pouring gas. On the floor around the creature, soaking the carpet, spilling it over its body still splayed out and struggling to stand. Fear pulled at Steve’s features, but they were edged in adrenaline and a wicked survivor’s instinct. A determination and conviction you hadn’t seen before and god. He was brave.

“Dammit, Henderson. Get outta here!” Steve yelled at Dustin again, waving a hand toward the car, the other digging in his pocket for a lighter. Flicking it open with a crack! Steve watched for just a second as the monster growled low and wounded before tossing the flame into the gas.

It lit up like the bonfires down at the quarry, hot and hungry and fueled by the liquid pooled deep on the floor, licking and crackling against the monster’s skin as it screeched and howled in pain. Steve shielded his face with a crooked arm, burying his nose and mouth into his elbow, watching as the lump on the floor slowly stopped moving.

“Did you do it? Is it dead??” Dustin yelled, “Extinguisher’s on the couch!”

Steve grabbed the can and pulled the pin, making the air thick with billows of smoke and retardant and when it finally dispersed, fire put out, the only thing left on the floor was the dark, charred outline of the monster.

“What the–” Dustin shook his head in disbelief, “–where the hell is it??”

“Shit,” Steve hissed, throwing the extinguisher onto the floor, “The same shit happened at Jonathan’s. Fuck.”

You watched as Steve roughed his hands over his face, exhausted and frustrated and you thought for a minute you’d like to thank him for saving your life, but the world started to swim. Dizzy and hazy like looking up through the water from the bottom of the pool in summer and you felt yourself start to slip against Dustin’s hold.

“Hey–shit, hey stay with me!” the younger boy tightened his arm around your waist and the sound of panic in his voice pulled Steve’s attention.

“Whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Steve slipped in the mess of blood and slime on the floor as he scrambled to get to you, getting an arm under your other shoulder and helping Dustin to steady you.

“We gotta go to the hospital,” Dustin gave Steve a look. A first-aid-kit-can’t-fix-this-shit type of look and he understood.

“Okay. Okay, yeah. Here, unlock it for me,” he slipped Dustin his keys so that he could loop both arms under the crooks of your knees, lifting and cradling you against his chest.

“You know. You were pretty okay in there, Harrington. Except for that first swing,” you teased, voice raspy as you clung to consciousness. Adrenaline wearing off. Shock setting in. So much blood.

Steve shook his head, his attempt at a laugh choked off with the sob he was holding in his chest. “Yeah, shit. Told you I was bad in a fight,” he tried to joke back, but his heart wasn’t in it and his grip on you tightened as he stepped you both off the porch into the rain.

“Can make it up to me tomorrow, hm? Two scoops,” your voice was tight now too, cracking with the tears in Steve’s eyes and you bit your lips in, trying not to cry.

“Whatever you want, princess,” and for once the nickname didn’t make you angry. Instead you felt your heart swelling. Full of whatever tangle of feelings you’d wrapped around Steve. Feelings that clung to you now as he held you in his arms, rain falling heavy on you both, the blood on your jeans thinning and washing away with the rain and for a minute it didn’t look so bad, but you knew it was.

“Steve?” your voice was quiet now, barely above a whisper and he held you even tighter against his chest.

“Yeah, princess?”

“I don’t feel so good.”

“I know. Gonna get you some help, okay? Real soon, goin’ right now,” his tears were falling freely now, cutting paths down the slopes of his cheeks, running along the line of his jaw, mingling with the rain and dripping off the edge of his nose.

“Okay. Soon. My leg…” your head lolled back lazy over Steve’s arm and he knew he was running out of time.

“I know–Henderson! We gotta fuckin’ go!” and as Steve pulled you into the backseat with him he silently gave Dustin the green light. Made him the only other one out of the group trustworthy enough to drive aside from Max and, damn. He did pretty good for a little shithead.

Steve and Dustin were hit with a barrage of questions at the admissions desk in the ER and they answered it away with the same things they always did.

Aggressive dog off a leash. Run in with a wild animal. Bad fall off a bike.

And they always got looks, suspicious, disbelieving, but no one pushed for more. Didn’t turn them away and it was a good thing because had you waited any longer you might not have made it.

You’d lost a lot of blood. A lot of blood and Robin and Eddie and Steve and Dustin all donated downstairs while they cleaned and patched you up. Leg put back together with stitches and staples and wrapped tight in a massive bandage and Steve never left your side. Not for one second after he donated blood. Slept at your bedside and waited with your sister every time the doctor came around with an update.

Had you broken a bone or worse you might’ve had to stay longer, but twenty-four hours and you could go home. But go home and rest. Stay off your leg for a week and then crutches if you needed and when they discharged you and gave a bag of hospital goodies – more wraps and pain killers and ice packs – Steve was waiting for at pick up leaning against the hood of his BMW.

A grin pulled up at the corners of your lips, the nurse pushing your wheelchair glancing between the two of you with a small smile.

“Need a ride?”

“Oh, and I suppose you’re offering?”

“Well, yeah. Kickoff’s in less than an hour,” Steve smirked, twirling his keys around his ring finger as he opened the passenger door. “But–” he drew out the vowel, playful, coy, watching as the nurse stopped and put the breaks on your chair.

“But?” you quirked a brow at him, skeptical, but curious and his smirk softened.

“But, turns out I don’t give a shit about football,” he said matter-of-factly, taking your hands in his.

Your heart fluttered in your chest, a hummingbird caught in a cage and you narrowed your eyes at him, grin lingering on your lips. “Really. You don’t,” a statement not a question and he nodded his head, squeezing your hands as he slowly pulled you up from your wheelchair.

“Yep. Not one shit,” he was trying to tease again, softer this time as he tangled your fingers together, eyes dropping down to meet yours all warm honey and caramel. “So, change of plans,” a smirk flickered at the corner of his lips again. “Dirty Dancing, we can get pizza delivered and I’ve got about five different kinds of ice cream in the trunk, which–shit–probably melting,” he grimaced, but you snorted at the look on his face and it pulled a laugh from him.

“Five? Jesus, Harrington.”

“What? I don’t know what kind of ice cream you like, better to cover my bases.”

You shook your head and it wasn’t in jest, but bewilderment.

Even after everything he’d done and everything you’d said he was still standing here. Still following through on his promise because he wanted to. Not because of Tommy, not because of some stupid bet, but because you made him laugh. Made his legs kick off the sides of your bed late at night. Let him sit and listen to you play your guitar. Because you could care less about popularity and Homecoming and man. He liked you. He really, really liked you.

“Smart move, Harrington,” you teased as the nurse slowly backed the wheelchair away.

“Alright, you two,” she chided, giving Steve a look, “Rest. I’m not gonna say no to ice cream, but you be good. And don’t forget to change that dressing.”

Pulling a hand from yours, Steve slapped it over his heart and gave the nurse the most honest-to-god look. “Promise,” he swore and she chuckled.

“Alright then, have a good night,” and then she winked at you and the flush that crept up your cheeks made you wish the ground would open up and swallow you whole.

Luckily Steve took no notice of it, too busy fussing over you as he helped you into the passenger seat. Insisted on getting your buckle for you, keeping the music down and driving like an old man through town back to your house.

You hit nearly every red light on the way, which is saying something since there were only about a handful, and when you rolled to a stop at the last one you heard a voice through the open window of his car. Someone yelling and it made you both look.

“Oh shit it is you, Harrington! And with the freak, no way!”

Your stomach dropped.

Tommy fucking Hagan and he was running up on Steve’s side of the car to lean his arms on the door, sharklike grin on his lips.

You opened your mouth to tell him off, but Steve beat you to it.

“Yeah. Hey, Tommy. I meant to tell you this earlier, but guess I forgot.”

“What?” Tommy asked stupidly as Carol waited impatiently back on the sidewalk, arms folded across her chest.

“Go fuck yourself,” and Steve hit the gas as the light turned green, pulling the car out from under Tommy and you turned to watch with absolute glee as he stumbled and ate shit on the road. He flipped two middle fingers in the rearview at you both, but you were laughing too hard to return the favor.

When you arrived back home your parents were waiting at the door.

“We were worried sick!”

“I came home as soon as I heard, sweetheart!”

Words of concern falling from their lips as Steve helped you in through the door, thanking him profusely for his help and for taking care of you. They insisted he stay for dinner and when you told them you already had plans in the form of pizza and ice cream they left you alone. They might’ve been absent, but they weren’t stupid enough to not take a hint.

Steve walked you up the steps to your room slowly, carefully, asking you if you were okay every couple of minutes. Got you settled on your bed, leg elevated with a pillow, two more behind your back as he helped you scoot back to the headboard. Flipped on the small TV at the foot of your bed and gave you the remote before heading back down to get everything else.

And as soon as the sound of him hurrying down the steps faded away, you were left alone for a minute for the first time since everything had happened and your chest squeezed tight.

Monsters were real. And you would’ve been eaten alive if it weren’t for Steve Harrington. Fucking King Steve. Asshole jock that ran Hawkins High that wasn’t actually an asshole at all. And he’d saved your life. Waited by your side at the hospital. Bought you five different kinds of ice cream and drove you home. Liked reading your Thrasher magazines and your guitar and the little snort you made when you laughed and–

“Hey, hey. What’s wrong? Is it your leg?” you hadn’t heard Steve come back into your room, but your mattress dipped at the side as he hurried to sit next to you, worry pulling his lips down into a frown.

“What?” you asked, suddenly aware of the fact that you’d been crying and quickly wiping a hand over your cheeks.

“What d’you mean ‘what’? Are you okay?” he asked again, reaching a thumb up to brush away the tears you’d missed.

And somehow between the crying you laughed and it made Steve go from worried, to confused and worried, and the look he gave you then made you laugh again.

“And...now we’re laughing?” he asked, wanting to smile, but just so utterly lost.

“Sorry, it’s just–” you pulled in a breath to steady yourself and let it out. A release of, well, everything. “Its just…this is so fucking weird. Monsters and lighting Dustin’s carpet on fire and matching scars. Whenever this shit heals,” you waved a hand at both your legs, “And you.”

Steve’s confusion shifted then, softened and melted with your words and he swallowed thick, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, the look in his eyes pushing you to keep going.

“I was really mad at you,” you said first and the tiny flicker of hope in his eyes dimmed a bit, but you grabbed his hand, “But I know things aren’t black and white. M’not an idiot.” That got a little laugh out of him and you smiled, “And Steve…”

“Yeah?” his heart was hammering against his ribcage, lips parted, anticipating, anxious. Waiting.

“I thought I was gonna die 24 hours ago.”

He opened his mouth to reply, but you pressed your fingers to his lips.

“But I didn’t and now…” you let your hand fall away from his face and pressed it into his thigh. Leaned in close against the soft fabric of his sweater. Close enough to catch the leftover mint of his gum as it tangled with the heady scent of his cologne. Close enough to feel his breath warm over your cheek, “I just want you to kiss me.”

And softly, so gentle, but so firm, he slipped the wide expanse of his hand behind your head. Pulled you into him. Lips catching yours sweet and languid and warm and when your eyes slid shut you swore Steve showed you the universe. Glittering stars. Hundreds of intricately drawn constellations. Swirling as they spun through the sky and when you came back down you wished he’d never stop.

A small huff of a laugh fell from his lips as he stayed pressed in close, looking down at you through the long sweep of his lashes, eyes liquid amber and soft brown sugar, "Uhm, can I do that I again?”

“Oh my god, please,” you grinned and he didn’t hesitate to pull you back in, knowing maybe you wouldn’t get to the movie and maybe the ice cream was going to melt on the counter in the kitchen, but he didn’t care.

It was never about the ice cream.

It was always about

you.

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist

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crappymixtape · 8 months

Text

touch me, babe

REQUEST → 500 follower celebration, @steveharringtonscarkeys • personal prompt: 🧡 with stevie boy :) a couple details consist of; i'm a ginger w/ curly hair, am really into 70's music and play electric guitar! | ( 3.1k – sprinkles of fluff, mostly smut, friends to lovers, steve x reader )

T O U C H M E, B A B E 🎶 i can't get my head around you, billie marten

Come on, come on, come on. Now touch me, babe. What was that promise that you made? Why won't you tell me what she said?

Scratchy, electric riffs buzzed through the thick, stormy summer air. Catching on the too-hot breeze that blew in through Steve’s open window. Carrying like they always did out your open garage door and tangling up with your voice as it wrapped around each note.

Steve thought Jim Morrison didn’t have shit on you.

Swinging a leg out over the window ledge he leaned back against the wood frame and let the sound wash over him. Plucked guitar strings, static rubbing against the lyrics, tractors pulling discs through the field over the fence and the constant hum of his pool filter. Clouds stretched across the wide, darkening expanse of the Indiana sky, towering high overhead and threatening rain.

A sliver of warm light fell out onto the street from the fringe lamp he knew was sitting next to your amp on the floor. He could picture your fingers pressing and sliding up and down the fret board. Cherry red guitar held tight against your body. Messy, strawberry curls falling loose from the tie you’d twisted them up into.

A car sped past and cut through the beam of gold, making it flicker against the pavement, and Steve felt the tiny embers in his chest catch fire as you reached the chorus.

Now, I’m going to love you ‘til the heavens stop the rain. I'm going to love you ‘til the stars fall from the sky, for you and I.

He pictured your lips pressed against the mic, body swaying along with the music, the long sweep of your lashes fanning out across your cheeks as you closed your eyes during the parts you really felt. The parts you loved to sing most.

Come on, come on, come on. Now touch me, babe. What was that promise that you made? Why won't you tell me what she said?

Steve bit the inside of his cheek between his teeth.

Debating.

The embers in his chest licking at his ribs.

What are you waiting for?

Pushing himself off the ledge he ducked back into his room and ran down the stairs taking them by twos. The dirty Blazers on his feet slapping against the concrete as he jogged out the door onto his walkway and across the street.

To you.

Now, I’m going to love you ‘til the heavens stop the rain. I'm going to love you ‘til the stars fall from the sky, for you and I.

The chorus flung you out into the ether like it always did. Consumed you. Each word sung as if you were performing for a crowd of thousands and not in your messy garage.

Your fingers had a mind of their own as they danced along the strings of your guitar, hitting each chord effortlessly and a smile tugged at the corners of your lips as the song reached its crescendo. Your favorite part. Building and swelling and pushing at the edges until you hit the last note.

Stronger than dirt.

Stepping back from the mic you shook loose curls out of your face and leaned down to toss the stereo chord out of your way when a sharp sound pulled your gaze up.

“Steve?”

Hair swept messy and stuck across his forehead in the humidity, he had that stupid smile on his face. The one that made everything go hazy and he was clapping.

“Shut up,” you teased, grinning, all play and no heat, and he smirked right back.

“What? You make Morrison sound like shit.”

Your mouth dropped open, mock offense as you pulled your guitar up over your head and set it on the stand.

“Steven, that’s blasphemy.”

“Not if it’s true,” he shrugged his shoulders, stepping into the garage where the breeze couldn’t reach and the air shifted. Pressed into him. Charged. Electric like your cherry red guitar.

“What’re you doing anyway,” you said, more a statement than a question, looked over at him through the ginger curls that kept falling down into your face and the grin on his lips fell a little. The way your eyes met his caught him off guard and all of a sudden he was a little unsure.

What was he doing?

Clearing his throat he carded a hand through his hair and shrugged again, “Dunno. Heard you playing and thought I’d come over.”

“Oh,” you said softly, smiling a little at the way his nerves peeked through. All bravado and confidence and King Steve swept away by time and experience and, if he was being honest, you.

His eyes widened a bit at your reply and he quickly thumbed over his shoulder, “Uh–I could go if–”

“–no, stay,” you cut him off, took a step forward and grabbed his hand.

Steve looked down at where your palms were suddenly pressed together and then you felt the air shift too. The heat of summer, the faded scent of Steve’s cologne, fresh laundry and spearmint and boy and you bit your lip between your teeth.

Your best friend. The one who told you, you were better than Jim Morrison. The one who’d come listen to you play even if it was pouring down rain, even if your garage was as hot as an oven, even if you didn’t feel like playing and maybe it was the heat or maybe it was the way Steve was looking at you, but you wanted – no needed – him to stay.

“Please stay?” you asked again, quieter this time and Steve swallowed thick. Jaw ticking as he pressed his teeth together. Worked to muster up the courage to finally just do what he knew you both wanted and took a step closer, pressed the toes of his dirty, beat up old Blazers into your black Chucks.

“Okay,” he half-whispered, lashes sweeping across his cheeks as he blinked heavy and took you in.

Strawberry blonde and freckles. Sweet like cherries and soft like rain. Curls that framed your face so perfectly he was set to fail the moment he laid eyes on you and his brows furrowed together the longer he looked, almost as if in pain, and he shook his head in disbelief.

”So fuckin’ pretty,” he couldn’t help it now, felt like he was being pulled into your orbit, lifted a hand to your cheek and let out a small sigh. “Can I–can I kiss you?” it was shy, tentative and unsure and it made the heat in your chest glow and flicker to life.

Even if you wanted to say something back you couldn’t and instead let your fingers tangle into the fabric of his shirt, pulled him down into you and pressed your lips to his.

It was a soft thing, tentative and searching and new and you could feel him smile against you. Like letting loose a held breath. Like plunging into the pool in the heat of summer. Lost and tumbling through time and space until he slowly pulled away, big brown eyes taking you in. But his smile faded the longer he looked and the little pinch reappeared between his brows. Like he was trying to work through it all and he bit at the inside of his cheek, kicking himself for stopping.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked quietly, out of character and far from smug, a silly question with even sillier timing and you felt your cheeks flush as you laughed softly.

“You never asked,” you answered simply and he gave you a lopsided smile.

“I wanted to, for the record,” he insisted and it made you laugh again, louder this time and you took his face in his hands.

“And my answer still would’ve been yes, for the record,” your tone was teasing, but as your eyes searched his, he knew you were far from it and it made him grin like an idiot.

“Yeah? Can’t say no to this face, huh?”

“Oh my god,” you laughed through a groan and sighed, “You can be smug all you want, Harrington, but you have horrible timing.”

That made him chuckle, but it was a sheepish thing and his cheeks were hot as he cleared his throat, a sorry mumbled into the air between you and it made you press your hand back to his chest.

“S’okay,” you murmured back, the tease in your tone fizzling out at the way Steve’s hand was pressed into your hip. The way his breath warmed over your cheek. They way his cologne made you feel hazy and when he lifted a hand to slip his fingers through your curls it made your breath catch your throat.

He held your head in his hand and blinked heavy, looked at you through the long sweep of his lashes and leaned down again all slow, but this time when he kissed you it was full of heat. Curiosity giving way to something more urgent, something needy and you felt yourself giving in.

He held tight to your waist, pressed his fingers into you and pulled you in close, your hips bumping together as he walked you back against the wall of the garage. Stumbling over your stereo chord, Steve’s hand squeezed at you, kept you steady and you both couldn’t help laughing a little.

“Would’ve played Morrison sooner if I’d known you’d like it that much,” your tone teasing again and Steve chuckled, a low rumble that made your stomach flip over.

“Yeah, well–” pulling back he looked down at you, smile lopsided, all boy, lips pink and breaths falling a little faster, “–don’t know til you try it I guess.”

He was so fucking pretty. Even in the stuffy, thick air that had settled in the garage. Especially with the way his hair was stuck messy across his forehead. Skin dewy, tanned and dotted in new freckles and moles, washed in gold from the sun. His eyes glittered dark in the dim light from your lamp, whiskey and amber and warm honey, and the absence of his mouth on you struck you sharply.

“Steve…” came out, an almost a whine, pleading and his eyes closed. Let your voice settle in his chest. The way you said his name. Pouring into his ears and filling him up until it spilled over at the edges. He was done for.

Leaning into you again he pressed his lips to the shell of your ear, “Tell me.”

A clap of thunder overhead made the windows in the garage shake, lightning slicing the sky in two and it began to rain. Slow at first then faster still, dropping heavy on the roof overhead and drowning out your reply, so you took his hand instead and ran it down your body.

Over the swell of your chest, the dip of your waist, the plush of your thighs, slower and slower until you stopped. Settled it between your legs and looked up at him, needy and wanting, and he swore softly under his breath. Swallowed thick. Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat at what you were silently telling him, his tongue running along his bottom lip in a rare show of nerves.

“Please,” you asked and he let out a strangled sound, did as you asked and dipped back down to press kisses along your jaw. Open mouthed and teeth feather light when he reached your neck and it burned the way he felt on you, pulling pretty sounds from your throat and making the ache in his jeans unbearable.

The hand he had at the seam of your legs moved up with ease to the button on your shorts, popped it open and pulled the zipper down. Slowly running his fingers along the lace trim on your panties he felt each of the tiny embroidered flowers there. Pinks and lilacs and buttercup yellows. Soft and sweet. The pad of his thumb bumping over them as he slipped his hand down lower and lower until he could feel just how much you needed him and he groaned at how wet you were, an almost pained sound, and his eyes squeezed shut.

“Christ, baby.”

Baby.

“You okay?” he asked through gritted teeth and you could barely hear him over the rain on the metal roof, so you looped an arm over his shoulder to pull him down into you.

“M’okay,” you murmured into his ear and he loosed the breath he’d been holding, the feeling of it warming over the exposed skin on your shoulder.

Bringing his lips back to your neck he dragged them along your collarbone, the swell of your breasts sucked pretty little marks on your skin and pulled your panties aside. Fingers slipping in your slick there he drew slow, lazy circles over your clit and god it made your breath catch in your throat.

“Sh-shit,” you hissed, keening high, frustrated little sounds falling from your lips as you pressed up onto your toes to reach him better, your legs starting to tremble and he tutted.

“No, no no,” and pulling his hand away you made a noise of protest, but then he was wrapping his hands behind your thighs and lifting you from the ground, “Shh, I got you, baby.”

Walking you across the garage he set you atop the work bench, lifted a hand to push strawberry curls out of your eyes as the rain fell impossibly harder above you. Rubbing like static against your ear drums and when you finally looked up Steve was kneeling between your legs. Looping his fingers into the belt loops on your shorts and lifting his brows in question.

“Lemme take care of you, hm?” he asked over the rain, “Can I do that, baby?”

And all you wanted then was the feeling of him between your legs again. Yes, yes, yes, spilled from your mouth and he tugged at your shorts, eased them down along with your panties over your knees and off onto the floor. Hooked his hands big and wide behind the crook of your legs and pulled you closer to the edge of the table.

Mouth pink and kiss bitten he licked over his bottom lip, anticipating how you’d taste, and slowly spread your legs open. Trailed his fingers back through your folds and pulled away. Swallowed hard at how they glistened with you in the low lamplight and looked up at you, pupils blown wide. All amber and warm honey.

“Oh baby. Baby. Gonna make you feel good, honey,” he babbled, kneeled forward and pulled you even closer so that the tip of his nose brushed against your tummy. Pressed kisses to your thighs, held tight to your leg and brought his hand back to your pussy. Spread your lips with his fingers and ran his tongue flat and wide through you and the pretty moan it pulled from you made his heart stutter.

“More, need you,” you were begging now, wiggling your hips on the table and he didn’t make you ask again, dipped back down into you and lapped at you with his tongue, made you see stars. Licking and sucking like a man starved and when you bucked up against his face he pressed kisses against you.

“What d’you want, princess, tell me.”

“Your fingers, Steve, please.”

And as he took his hand away from your cunt you nearly cried, but then he was sucking on his fingers. Wrapping his lips around them and making the coil in your stomach wind even tighter as you watched him drag them from his mouth with a pop and it was the hottest thing you’d ever seen.

You felt like you couldn’t breathe as he pressed his fingers back up against your entrance and slowly slipped them into you. The middle one first, in and out, in and out, warming you up before adding the second one and god the stretch you felt was so fucking perfect.

“Yes, oh shi–” you sucked in a breath as he set the pace, slow and heated, “–just like that.”

His fingers were so much longer than yours, pressing into the spot you couldn’t reach on your own, and when he put his mouth back on you it pulled a filthy moan from your lips. It was almost too much. His tongue flicking at your clit while his hand worked you up, wound you tight, tugged you closer and closer until your breaths grew shallow and you tangled your fingers into his hair.

When you pulled at the ends he hummed, the feeling vibrating against you as he picked up the pace and filled the garage with the sound of his fingers working into you.

Huh, huh, huh, you weren’t capable of words, instead letting out a sob with each thrust.

“S-so close, oh my god,” you were gasping, “Faster, Steve.”

And he took his mouth away from you, replaced it with his thumb on your clit, slipped it in messy circles as his fingers fucked you faster.

“C’mon, baby, come for me. So good for me,” words of praise fell from his lips, warm like honey and saccharine sweet and you finally felt the coil in your stomach snap.

“Oh shi-shit, oh fuck,” you gasped for breath, back arching perfectly with Steve’s fingers still deep inside you and he’d never seen anything so pretty in all his life. As he slowed he eased you down, gently pulled his hand away from you and let you fall forward into his arms, legs shaky from the effort.

“Doin’ okay?” he asked, softly teasing and grinning into your neck where he’d pressed his face to kiss at the skin there.

“Shut up,” you laughed, still breathless, pinching at his sides and it pulled a laugh from him too.

“Can I tell you something?” he asked, still nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

“Mmhm,” you murmured, exhaustion slowly wrapping around your body.

“Think you’re perfect,” he said, pulling away just enough to catch your sleepy gaze and it made your heart skip a beat. Made your lips tug up into a small little smile. Made you shake your head and mumble in protest, but he tutted them away, “M’serious.”

“You also think I’m better than Morrison and everyone knows that’s shit,” you teased and he squeezed at you, pressing kisses to the top of your head, your ear, your cheek.

“Well then I’m shit,” he confessed, softening, kissing at your lips all sweet and holding you tight to his chest, “But I don’t care. Long as I have you.”

And god, did he have you.

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