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#new chapter ahoy!
annom-alley · 6 months
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loveinhawkins · 9 months
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Every so often, Eddie will get the bus to Starcourt Mall (because what else is there to do?) and watch the world go by.
It’s not like he’s above a cliché or two—maybe he wants to indulge in being a lone figure within the crowd. Maybe he just feels like wallowing in the aimlessness of it all, damn it.
This is where Wayne would point out that Eddie is exactly the opposite of aimless, what with how he’d stormed into the trailer last month, failed test results in hand and snarled, “Next year. I’ll fuckin’ show ‘em.”
But there’s a long time between now and the new school year starting, the summer stretching out before him like taffy. He’d tried to start his reading list early again, but that’s never done him much good; this time he’d gotten through one chapter of Moby-fucking-Dick before despairing.
So. People-watching at the mall it is.
It’s surprisingly not all that terrible an activity, apart from discovering which teachers are suddenly very passionate about jazzercise—a sight Eddie could’ve blissfully lived the rest of his life without seeing.
There’s also the confirmation that the Starcourt commercial he saw was not a vivid hallucination—that Scoops Ahoy is, in fact, real.
And so are the ridiculous sailor outfits.
Well, I’ll be damned, Eddie thinks.
Robin Buckley and Steve Harrington are an incredibly unlikely duo. It’s like the universe abandoned all sense, spun a wheel and paired them up just for the fun of it.
When he joins the line for ice-cream, Eddie initially thinks he’ll find the whole thing laughable: seeing people forced to work together when usually the laws of the universe (and Hawkins High) would keep them as far apart as possible.
But then he discovers that the ice-cream parlor is packed, one hell of a bottleneck forming right up at the counter, where folks are waiting for a seemingly never-ending amount of floats to be poured.
It takes a while for Eddie to near the front of the line; enough time passes that he honestly feels kind of bad for even taking up a spot, for adding to the workload that has Robin shouting herself hoarse with every, “Next please!”
He strongly considers just leaving, but he hesitates for a moment too long, and unintentionally meets eyes with…
“Hi,” Steve says, pleasantly enough, if a little distracted as he prods at the soda machine. He smiles apologetically. “Be with you in a sec.”
Eddie almost wants to tell him you know it’s me, right? He doesn’t.
It’s not that he expects Steve to be mean, exactly; it’s just that he’s getting more than familiar with the whole post graduation routine. It’s like there’s a secret page in folks’ yearbooks, instructing them to look at anyone still attached to high school with either indifference or embarrassment—or both.
Steve must not have got the memo.
“Next!”
Robin beckons Eddie forward with a sweeping arm gesture, looks somewhere behind him and sighs in relief, puffing out her cheeks.
“Oh, thank God. You stopped the tide.”
Eddie glances over his shoulder; sure enough, he’s the last person left to order.
“Don’t think I’ve got that power, Buckley.”
Robin raises an eyebrow. “Debatable.”
Eddie almost laughs. There was a rumour in his first attempt at senior year that he could curse people: it only came about because he ominously whispered some Pig Latin he’d once overheard Robin herself use during History, and Molly Pritchard crossed herself in horror.
“I’ll have a vanilla cup.”
“Ooh,” Robin says dryly, “adventurous.”
“Nothing wrong with a classic,” Eddie says.
Robin smirks as she rings him up. They don’t know each other that well, but there’s admittedly something nice in the distant familiarity they share; at the very least, she’s not gonna add to any potential awfulness when school starts again.
While Robin hands over his change, Steve is filling up a cup—Eddie would say he’s uncharacteristically quiet, except for the fact that he doesn’t actually know what truly is characteristic of Steve Harrington.
Plus he’s stuck on the fact that he only paid for one scoop, but the amount of ice-cream Steve manages to cram in is almost double that.
And he does this ridiculous little twirly thing with the scooper before he even reaches for the tray of vanilla.
Eddie tells himself he notices just because the move is so stupid; it’s definitely not because he’s noticing Steve’s hands in general. It’s just… eyes get drawn to movement. That’s all.
“Syrup?” Steve asks, nodding his head at the dispensers.
“Sure,” Eddie says. “Strawberry.”
Steve wrinkles his nose. “Oh, don’t do that, man. Get it with butterscotch.”
Robin’s eyes rise to the heavens, as if some longstanding argument has begun once again.
“And why should I do that, Harrington?” Eddie says.
“Because,” Steve says, like he’s patiently explaining that two plus two equals four, “butterscotch is better. Obviously.”
“Obviously,” Robin parrots mockingly. She closes the register drawer and says, “I’m taking my break, Popeye. Try not to judge the customers too hard.”
Eddie’s pretty sure he hears Steve mutter under his breath as she leaves, “Seriously? You’re worse than me.”
His cup of ice-cream is under hostage, apparently. Steve still hasn’t pressed down on the damn syrup pump.
“This your usual sales technique?” Eddie says. “Browbeating the customers?”
“Only the lucky ones,” Steve returns mildly.
Eddie scoffs. “Fine. Gimme the damn butterscotch then.”
“Knew you’d come to your senses,” Steve says.
He hands the cup over without any more quips; just as he’s done with the syrup, a large family swoops in with multiple sundae orders.
Eddie eats the ice-cream while waiting for the bus back home. He grudgingly has to admit that the butterscotch isn’t bad.
But that’s not really what’s bugging him.
He has to know if it’s a fluke—if maybe, just maybe, Steve Harrington only deigned to talk to him because he was, like… delirious or something. Maybe the flood of demanding customers scrambled his brain.
Of course, when Eddie goes back to the mall, it’s purely to test his theory. Strictly observational—educational, even. Like… summer school. (Take that, O’Donnell.)
The bus drops them off a little bit before the mall actually opens, but they’re allowed inside anyway. Eddie inwardly cringes at the sight of grown adults tapping persistently on the windows of still closed stores. Jesus Christ, they’re worse than zombies.
Scoops Ahoy isn’t open yet either; Eddie’s soon witness to a very stressed looking Steve striding over to unlock the place.
He flits in and out of view for a while, taking mops round to the back, filling up the jars of toppings.
Eddie actually considers heading over to Waldenbooks to check if it’s open (it’s not like he’s coming here for one store in particular, obviously), but then he hears metal clacking against the tiles.
When he looks back at Scoops Ahoy, he spots a set of keys on the ground right at the entrance, Steve nowhere in sight.
Goddamn it. He’s gonna have to be a Good Samaritan. Ugh.
Eddie briefly looks up to the ceiling as if he can condemn the ways of the universe from here. Then he sighs, picks up the keys and steps into the store.
“Harrington, you dropped these—”
“Shit,” comes Steve’s voice from the back, followed by an almighty clatter.
Eddie hesitates before his curiosity inevitably wins out.
He goes behind the register, through the door and finds the aftermath of complete disaster: Steve standing in front of an entire vat of ice-cream that’s been dropped onto the floor. It’s splattered all up his legs, cookies and cream clinging to the hairs.
Holy shit, stop thinking about his leg hair, Eddie thinks.
Up until this point in time, he’d believed it was physically impossible to look anything other than comical in that stupid sailor outfit.
(Well. Almost.)
But right now Steve looks absolutely tragic. Like he’s a crew member on the Titanic levels of tragic, and he’s about to deliver the news that there’s simply no more lifeboats.
Steve meets Eddie’s gaze.
“That was limited edition,” he says pitifully.
They both look down at the floor.
“Well,” Eddie says. “It definitely is now. Still, uh, what’s the phrase? No use crying over spilled… ice-cream.”
“Oh, I’m not gonna cry over it,” Steve says. “I’m gonna scream.” For a moment he looks murderous. “Robin’s not coming in.”
“Is she sick?”
Steve snorts. “Sick my ass. No, she’s keeping The Hawk in business—gonna see a movie about an ice-cream parlor, something like that.”
“An ice-cream parlor,” Eddie echoes. “Um. Are you sure she didn’t just make it up?”
Steve shakes his head. “No, it’s one of those foreign—never mind.”
He cuts himself off, lifts up one foot, as if he’s become aware of his predicament all over again.
“I was fine with her ditching, she can do whatever; it’s not like we have managers checking up on us. But I forgot a huge delivery was coming, and it’s Saturday so it’s gonna be crazy, so I’m not gonna have time to put all of it in the freezer or check the stock chart, so it’s all just gonna become fucking soup, Jesus, maybe I should just throw everything on the floor and—”
“I could help,” Eddie interrupts, because apparently a little alien has burrowed into his brain and now he just says things.
Steve stares at him. “Why would you do that?”
“Yeah, uh, sorry,” Eddie says. He wishes his brain-invading alien an immediate death. “Bad idea, just—”
“No, I mean why would you do that? Dude, it’s not like I can pay you or—”
“I don’t really have plans,” Eddie says—oh great, the alien hasn’t died! “Uh, you can pay me with, like, a name tag?” What? Stop talking. “Like a souvenir?” Stop! “Oh sorry,” Steve says, as if on automatic pilot. He pulls at his shirt. “We don’t have—our names are stitched on.”
I was kidding about the name tag. Actually, maybe you should just murder me instead.
By some miracle, Eddie’s expression must somehow still look fairly normal because Steve continues, deadly serious, “Munson. Are you sure?”
This is the time to back out—
“Yeah,” Eddie says. “Look, man, it’s no big deal. I can clean this up and—”
A bell starts ringing from the front, being struck over and over again in the most obnoxious way possible.
Something in Steve’s eyes flickers, a shift from panic into planning mode, and Eddie has the sudden bizarre feeling that this is what the basketball team saw whenever a crisis timeout was called.
“You sure you’re okay if I leave you back here?” Steve asks, and the gravity with which he says it threatens to send Eddie into hysterics—Christ, you’d think they were in the goddamn trenches.
“Think I’ll survive,” Eddie says. “I’m basically cleaning up, and putting everything into the freezer?”
Steve nods. “And, um, a stock check too, if that’s okay? There’s a chart pinned up, you just gotta count the flavours and put, like, tally marks next to—”
“Oh my God, not tally marks,” Eddie drawls. “The horror.”
Steve huffs. “I was just—”
The bell rings even more insistently.
“Uh, think you’re needed on the front line,” Eddie says.
He nearly chokes on his own spit when Steve turns to just march right on out there.
“Harrington, wait! Your—your legs,” he says weakly.
Steve has the audacity to look puzzled. “What about them?”
They’re very long.
Eddie gestures silently to the ice-cream on the floor, then attempts a vague hovering motion in the direction of Steve’s legs.
Steve’s eyes go wide in realisation. His cheeks turn slightly red. “Oh! Yeah, um, thanks. Um. I’ll just…”
He disappears into the world’s tiniest restroom, comes back free of cookies and cream before heading out to the front.
Well, Eddie thinks to the mop he finds, this is definitely a situation.
It’s not the worst way he’s spent a few hours, apart from having to listen to a Sailor’s Hornpipe on loop through the speakers (he briefly wonders how Robin and Steve stay sane). He cleans up, gets the rest of the delivery into the freezer, even jots down some tally marks, wonder of wonders.
Steve will occasionally slide back the shutters and pop his head in, passing over a soda.
“Employee perks,” he says, then has to hurriedly retreat to keep serving.
Eddie keeps waiting for the stiltedness to set in, but it seems Steve’s far too busy for there to be any awkwardness.
At midday the shutter slides back again and Steve says, “Hey, can you do me one last thing, and I’ll never ask you for anything ever again, I swear.”
“Harrington, you’ve technically never asked me for anything. Gimme the mission.”
Turns out the mission is just to use some employee only coupons at Burger King so Steve can take his lunch.
Eddie returns to Scoops Ahoy with two burgers to find that Steve’s strategically placed a pile of chairs and wet floor signs at the threshold to deter people from entering.
There’s also a hand-drawn sign on top of one of the chairs: Out for Lunch. Underneath, there’s a horrendously bad drawing of a ship on choppy waves.
Eddie tries very hard to not find it endearing.
He gives Steve a burger, hops onto the table in the back and starts eating his own.
A quarter of the way through, he realises that he could leave now—he’s done everything Steve’s asked, and Steve’s already said he can manage the remaining shift on his own now that the delivery’s been put away.
Huh. Well, he’s already gone to all the effort of sitting here…
Steve’s quiet for most of his lunch. Eddie doesn’t mind; he enjoys his free food, comes up with a half-baked campaign idea before discarding it, counts every tile in the room…
Looks over.
Steve’s sat with one leg hunched up to his chest, a book resting on his knee—the cover’s folded over the back as he reads, the spine broken. Eddie doesn’t know why on earth it’s attractive, but it is; he feels like some mooning middle schooler, entranced by the way their stupid crush eats spaghetti or some bullshit like that.
But then again, there’s always been an easy grace to Steve Harrington.
A beeping noise; Steve checks his wristwatch with a sigh.
“Ugh.”
He leaves the book on the table, at just the right angle for Eddie to read the title: Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy.
“Is it good?”
“Hmm? Oh. Yeah, I’m only a couple chapters in, so…” Steve shrugs. “Honestly, it’s the most I’ve read since starting high school.”
And Eddie gets that: the senior years he’s suffered through have left him each time with a brain like a wrung out sponge, not even having the energy for Tolkien.
God. At this rate he’s never gonna read for fun ever again.
His face must do something because Steve opens and closes his mouth a few times before saying, a little hesitant, “Hey, I’m sorry you never, uh… made it through, y’know? You—you were so close, man.” Eddie doesn’t bother wasting time on being pissed that Steve knows some of the details: ‘test results’ and ‘confidentiality’ don’t exactly go together in Hawkins High.
“Yeah, uh. Thanks. Here’s hoping third time’s the charm.”
Steve claps his shoulder. “You’ll do it, it was just tough this year. Like, I scraped through, trust me.”
Eddie snorts—he would literally kill to have a handful of Steve’s grades.
“Think my definition of ‘scraped through’ is different to yours.”
He helps Steve disassemble the mountain of chairs, and now it really is obvious that he could just leave; he only has to take a few steps, and then he’s out of there.
But he pauses.
The store is still empty.
Eddie shuffles back from the doorway. “Ice-cream for the road?”
Steve laughs. “Sure. Least I can do.”
He doesn’t ask Eddie what he wants, just serves a vanilla cup with butterscotch syrup.
Eddie suddenly feels himself fighting a smile. “Think you’ve got an agenda, man.”
“Nope. Just giving you the superior choice, Munson.”
Then Steve picks up an empty cup and pours more butterscotch into it, nothing else. He knocks it back like a shot. “Gross,” Eddie says.
Steve flashes him a syrup-streaked grin.
It’s so… juvenile.
If it wasn’t for the fact that they’re in a mall, Eddie would almost think that he’d gone back a few years, made an unexpected temporary friend that goofed off with him in the back of the class.
He finishes his ice-cream as more people flock to the counter; in what seems like no time at all, Steve’s ushering Eddie out, pulling down the security grille.
It feels a bit like a soap bubble has burst. Like the bell’s unexpectedly rung at the end of last period, in a class he was actually enjoying, against all odds.
Steve does say, quite sincerely, “Thanks, Munson. You didn’t have to… you really saved my ass.”
Eddie’s about to clumsily work his way through some reply about how it was nothing, but then they really do have to go, because some stern-faced security guard’s staring like he might vaporise them.
It’s just one day, Eddie thinks. A… what’s-it-called. An anomaly.
But he goes back to the mall the next afternoon. He doesn’t bother to make up an excuse even in his own head.
Scoops Ahoy is somehow even more packed this time—Steve’s serving up samples while Robin’s back at the register, and when she sees Eddie coming, she points at the vanilla, mouths, “The classic?”
He chuckles, nods. “How was your movie, Buckley?”
“No idea what you’re talking about,” she says serenely. “I was very sick.” She coughs delicately.
“Praying for your miraculous recovery.”
He gets vanilla with butterscotch syrup (just because Robin’s the closest to that particular dispenser, that’s all).
It’s so busy that once Robin’s finished at the register, she starts filling orders alongside Steve. When Eddie picks up his cup, they barely look at him, surrounded by other cups and plastic bowls laid out for ice-cream.
Figures. Eddie knows it’s not personal. Just. Soap bubble’s burst, and all that.
He’s almost out the store when he hears a whistle.
“Hey, Munson! Go long!”
“Fuck off, no,” Eddie says automatically, a response drilled into him from many a compulsory Phys Ed class.
But he turns, just in time to see Steve throw something at him. He catches it—it’s plastic, round—somehow manages to keep a hold of his ice-cream, too.
Steve gives a brief thumbs up, before he’s back to scooping. He still finds time to do that stupid twirl move again.
Once outside, Eddie opens up his hand. Snorts.
It’s a shitty white badge, chipped in several places. His name’s scrawled on it in red marker, a cartoony anchor in the upper right corner.
On the bus home, Eddie mulls over the thought of flicking through a couple chapters of The Hobbit, something like that. No pressure, no notes—no imagining the year ahead, a teacher looming over his shoulder. Just for fun.
There’s plenty of time.
He puts his souvenir in his pocket, takes another spoonful of ice-cream.
And he has to admit that butterscotch is pretty damn good.
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sherbetstudios · 1 month
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CAN WE TALK AB THE NEW TNV CHAPTER PLEASE
CH 21 Spoilers ahoy
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Sorry @sugarpasteltmnt i guess im just gonna be clogging your activity for now (SORRY)
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dwobbitfromtheshire · 4 months
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Stuck Between a Jock and a Metalhead
Summary: Nancy, on a whim, decides to visit Steve at Scoops Ahoy, which leads to her overhearing confessions from Steve that leads her to think about the decisions she's made. A few days later, she decides to come back. She finds him being hit on by the town freak. What's a girl to do? Oh, get stuck in a freezer with the both of them.
A/N: Oops, I made this chapter a little angsty. I do love Nancy now, flaws and all. Oh, the title is a play on for stuck between a rock and a hard place. Thought it was funny.
Chapter One
Nancy Wheeler was confident in her decisions, to say the least. She never really doubted when she was in the right. It was a constant struggle, though, to look at someone's else's side of things. It was why she loved looking at the facts, put plain and simply before her. The facts are that she was interning at the local newspaper and that the news reporters seemed to hate women or look down on them at least. They surely didn't respect them.
"I mean, like what year are we in now? There are tons of female news reporters. Get ahead of the times!" Nancy complained.
"Well, there's a reason why people call this town so conservative. Will this town ever be willing to change?" Steve asked, shaking an invisible magic eight ball. "Sources say: unlikely. I mean, now, they really won't be subject to change with the way this mall moved in and took away their businesses."
"The same mall you work at?" Nancy asked in amusement. "By the way, what the hell are you wearing?"
"I can't believe you're just now noticing. This is my uniform," Steve said and flipped the hat back onto his head.
Nancy had stopped by Scoops Ahoy after coming into the mall to try to find Holly a birthday gift. She had spotted Steve behind the counter and had to stop in. Now, here they were, in the back room conversing like old friends. Steve stood up from the table and slowly twirled around before striking a pose. His back was to her, and he peered over his shoulder, his hand over his mouth as though he was shocked. His rear end was sticking out. He looked like he got caught doing something he shouldn't. Nancy burst into a fit of giggles.
"You're an idiot, Steve Harrington," Nancy said softly.
"And you're - uh - anyway, yes, this is my uniform. It's completely fucking embarrassing but not as embarrassing as being too stupid to get into anywhere," Steve said.
"Despite what I said before, you're not stupid. Although, you can be an idiot at times. It's not who you are, and if your dad ever makes you feel like that, then just send him my way. I'll kick his ass," Nancy said.
"You're the only person in the world I believe could actually take that asshole," Steve said.
"Thanks. I should probably go. I told mom I would be home soon," Nancy said, getting up.
"One thing first, and I'm not sure it was my place to say, but this job of yours. . .you're not getting paid, your skills aren't being put to good use, you have to ask what else am I getting out of this? What else am I learning?" Steve asked.
"Well, I'm learning what not to do," she said, and he laughed.
"You know, it's okay to give up something that's not working for you, and it's okay to fight for it. Whatever decision that works best for you, Nancy, it's okay," Steve said.
"Stop saying okay. I hate that word," Nancy said softly.
It made her stomach turn the way he said it softly, reminding her of the way he said it that night he told her to go with Jonathan. A small portion of guilt nestled in her stomach. She shook it away and smiled.
"It was good to see you again, Steve," Nancy said. "We should talk again soon."
"Definitely," Steve grinned. "Did I help at all?"
"Yeah, actually, you did," Nancy said.
As she walked out of the break room, she passed Steve’s co-worker Robin. She gave Nancy the stink eye. She wondered if it was because she thought there was something between her and Steve. Was Robin jealous of her? Did she want to date Steve? Or was she dating Steve? God, Nancy hoped not. She blushed, realizing that she had no right to be jealous of someone she didn't have any interest in anymore. . .or did she? Nancy walked briskly away, moving out of the parlor and towards the exit as quickly as possible. Halfway towards the exit, Nancy realized that she had left her purse. When she walked back in, there was a closed for lunch sign out front. She went in and headed towards the break room. She paused by the door when she heard her name.
"You're friends with your ex?" Robin asked. "That's a little. . . Unusual."
"I take what I can get," Steve said.
"What does that mean?" She asked and paused. "What? Are you still in love with her?"
Nancy sucked in a breath and waited hopefully for the right answer.
"I mean, I don't know. I guess so. How does one fully stop loving Nancy Wheeler?" Steve asked. "I just want her to be happy. If Jonathan makes her happy, then I'm happy, too."
"It doesn't kill you inside every time you hang out to see her with another guy?" Robin asked.
"Well, this is the first time we hung out in a while. After it all. . .ended, Nancy invited me to have lunch with her Jonathan, but I couldn't. . .it was too painful. I spent lunch in my car blasting Careless Whisper and crying. I got my heart broken, and I didn't have any friends. I mean, the friends I had I walked away from. They were assholes, yes, but I knew Tommy all of my life, and he wasn't always like that. My parents were never home, still aren't, and I just had no one. The kids I started to babysit helped a lot, but considering they were kids and one of them was Nancy's brother, I couldn't exactly talk to them about this," Steve said. "Before we broke up, I tried everything to befriend Jonathan because I knew how much he meant to Nancy. I guess I just didn't want to admit how much."
Nancy pressed her hand to her mouth, tears filling her eyes as she tried to muffle her sobs. She didn't know anything about all of that or the fact that Steve tried to make friends with Jonathan.
"You didn't want to lose her. The fact that you tried to befriend him says a lot about you," Robin said. "I wouldn't have been able to do that."
"I can't hate her for making the choice that she did. I was never enough to be it for her, but I respect her choice even if I don't like it. I can't force her - " Steve choked up. "I can't force her to love me."
"So pathetic," Robin said softly with a hint of affection and Steve laughed.
"Definitely pathetic," Steve said and paused. "I miss her so much that it's stupid. I just wish that I could move on. I think I'm trying too hard. I guess I can't force that either."
"I think I can help with that," Robin said in a mischievous voice. "It requires me taking over the whiteboard, though. What are your preferences?"
"Men, women," Steve said.
"I meant like how do you want me to tease you mercilessly while I do this, but that is. . . That is good to know," Robin said. "Um, right, thanks for telling me."
Crying softly, Nancy quietly and quickly walked away. She'd get her purse some other time. She ran all the way to the bathroom and locked herself in a stall. What he had said then was something she always suspected about Steve, but she never asked, never wanted to be pushy about that part of his life in case he wasn't aware, but turns out, he was. It was all the other stuff that was overwhelming her. She couldn't stop picturing Steve alone in his car, crying. She had so wanted to believe that he had been fine, that he wouldn't be affected by what happened. Or maybe she just hoped that he wouldn't care because it was easier to escape the fact that she fucked up. She didn't intend to hurt Steve, but she did it anyway, and maybe there was another reason why she didn't want to think about how he felt or that moment at the school. She didn't want to think about him walking away from her after begging her to tell him that she loved him. She didn't want to think about him telling her it was okay or hearing him call himself a shitty boyfriend. It was easier to ignore all of that than to admit that she didn't feel like she deserved him.
Jonathan doesn't deserve for her to think that way either because her relationship with him means something, doesn't it? Everything happened so quickly. Maybe that was why she wanted it to happen so fast. Why she had acted the way she did with her feelings for Jonathan? She wanted to destroy her relationship with Steve, to make him hate her the way she hated herself, and she wanted him to feel guilty the way that she did with Barb. She was so mad at her before she died. Why couldn't Barb have understood that it was her choice to have sex with Steve? That the moment he talked to her, it was decided, and the very moment his lips touched hers. She bought a new bra, bought a new sweater, and she even lied to her mom about why she needed birth control.
"This isn't you, Nance," Barb had said.
"Why couldn't you have just gone home?" Nancy whispered to the empty bathroom.
The real person she wanted to be angry with was Barb, and how grotesque was that? How could she be angry at Barb for being in the wrong place at the wrong time? No, because if Barb had gone home and just let her make her choice, then Barb would still be alive. Nancy's stomach rolled. That's what Steve represented, not his guilt because he did nothing, but her own for being so angry with Barb before she died and for being angry after. The real person to be angry with, she knew, was Dr. Brenner. He was the man who started all of this, who led Barbara to her death. If she could bring him back and kill him again, she'd kill him a thousand times. She couldn't go down that road again. She knew the risks she took when she sought justice for Barb. She risked the whole damn town to do it. She wasn't sure she could put something like on Steve again because she still loved him, and he deserved better than that. Nancy wiped her face and came out of the bathroom to find Robin leaning against the wall. She was holding her purse.
"You left this. I saw you run in here. Damn, you're fast," Robin said and handed her the purse.
"Thanks," Nancy said, taking the purse and Robin narrowed her eyes at her.
"You came back for the purse. You heard us," Robin said, and Nancy didn't say anything. "You still love him."
"He deserves better," Nancy said.
"Doesn't he also deserve to make that choice for himself?" Robin asked.
"I - why do you care so much?" Nancy asked.
"I'm a firm believer in second chances. Without them, I wouldn't be here. My mother thought she'd never see my father again or to tell how she felt, but the chance came around again, so . . . Here I am," Robin said, raising her hands up in a shrug. "Gotta believe that there's hope for everyone."
Nancy stared at her for a moment, trying to figure her out. She washed her hands and dried them off.
"Don't tell Steve about this," Nancy said softly.
"Tell him what?" Robin shrugged and left the bathroom.
When Nancy walked into the house, Holly was playing barber shop with Mike's hair while he screeched that she was pulling his hair on purpose. Judging by the mischievous look on Holly's face, she was. Nancy smiled and shook her head before walking into the kitchen where her mother was making lunch.
"Hey, Nance. Did you find what you were looking for at the mall?" Karen asked.
"I think so," Nancy said softly as she stared at her mother.
She realized then where the choice she made with Jonathan was leading her. It was the path that she thought Steve would lead her down to: an unhappy marriage. She still liked Jonathan right now, and she wanted to continue to like him. Not that her mom didn't love her dad. It's just that she didn't like him very much. She wanted a partner that she not only liked but loved as well.
"We like Steve, but we don't love Steve," Murrary had taunted.
Nancy blushed furiously. He had been wrong. She should have said something then, defended Steve then because it was true. She liked Steve, and she loved him too. As much as she cared for Jonathan, as much as she liked him, she didn't love him the way that she loved Steve. The more she thought about Steve, the more she started to remember everything that she loved about their relationship. She remembered nights when they would curl up and watch Tom Cruise movies. They would both gush and giggle over him. Thinking about it now, he definitely had a crush on him like she did. She remembered watching him bake, and when a Bob Seger song came on, he would pull her in his arms to dance. He wasn't afraid to let her lead either. It wasn't just Bob Seger. It was Queen, Bowie, and Madonna. Occasionally, it was stuff like Eddie Van Halen, too. She loved the fact that he didn't just have a particular genre that he loved. He appreciated all sorts. And when she had to babysit Holly, he would come over to help, and he was always so good with her. He was good with both Holly and Mike. She loved the way that he wasn't afraid to be an absolute dork. Her dad was a quiet man, but he always some managed to pull a conversation out of Ted, and he loved to help her mother in the kitchen. She remembered all if without the cloud of guilt weighing her down.
"Nancy, honey, are you okay?" Karen asked.
"I messed everything up," Nancy burst into tears.
Chapter Two
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rogueddie · 11 months
Text
Fake Dating Steddie Fic Rec
Important: READ THE TAGS! Leave a comment and kudos! If I was only allowed read fake dating fics like these, I would die happy 🤞
I Like to See You in the Morning Light
BonitaBreezy
"Wait,” Eddie said, his drug-addled brain catching up suddenly. “Wait! My alibi is that I was having sex with Steve Harrington?”
After it all, Eddie Munson is left to pick up the cracked pieces of his life. Luckily, he has new friends to fall back on.
Words : 27,362 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen And Up Audiences
AO3 : x
you want it straight from the heart (why can't this be love?)
emryses
Steve let out a long sigh. “I’ll do it. I’ll be your fake boyfriend, okay?”
“You could at least sound happier about it,” Robin muttered.
Words : 12,417 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen And Up Audiences
AO3 : x
i’ve got you under my skin
strawberryspence
Steve Harrington has to marry Eddie Munson (also know as the Devil Incarnate), so Eddie won’t get deported back to Canada and for Steve to finally achieve his dream to be a producer.
Or: The Proposal AU Steddie Edition
Words : 49,923 Chapters : 6/6 Rating : Teen And Up Audiences
AO3 : x
Saying I love you to your best friend, and to the friend that could perhaps be something more
songsformonkeys
Ever since he discovered that he liked girls - and that, generally, girls liked him too - Steve Harrington has not spent a single Valentine's Day alone. 1987 is shaping up to be the first and that really sucks.
Eddie, fed up with listening to Steve's complaining, agrees to be his date for the day.
Words : 5,901 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : General Audiences
AO3 : x
Invitations
nbfutureboy
Steve’s being harassed about his love life, and enlists Eddie’s help over Christmas break to get Dustin off his back. All he has to do is pretend to be Steve’s boyfriend in front of all of his loved ones!
Words : 6,902 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen And Up Audiences
AO3 : x
Let's Be More Than Strangers
DrowningByDegrees
It’s meant to be a one-off favor to Robin, Eddie passing himself off as her boyfriend. Robin gets to hang onto the secret of why she never so much as bats an eyelash at the guys who come into Scoops Ahoy. Eddie gets more ice cream than he knows what to do with and the opportunity to pull one over on the former King of Hawkins High. Unfortunately, it all works just a little too well, and Eddie finds himself continuing to come back.
Words : 19,592 Chapters : 2/2 Rating : Teen And Up Audiences
AO3 : x
Can we always be friends? (We've got too much love)
sparrow_in_hawkins
Steve offers to be Robin's pretend boyfriend to get the guys at school to leave her alone. She's reluctant at first, until Steve admits that he's not interested in dating girls anymore anyway.
Meanwhile, Eddie's encounters with Steve Harrington had always been brief, but he could never help being captivated by him. Naturally, he doesn't know how to react as Steve starts popping into his life more than ever--probably should do nothing, because Steve has a girlfriend. Right?
Words : 42,525 Chapters : 6/6 Rating : Mature
AO3 : x
i know what you want from me
hyxzw
After two years of getting rejected from college, and totaling nineteen of disappointing his father, Steve Harrington decides to finally reclaim his life by spending the summer kissing Eddie Munson.
Words : 86,788 Chapters : 6/6 Rating : Mature
AO3 : x
A Coat of Paint
songbvrd
Steve agrees to help Eddie paint his trailer, but isn't prepared for the bisexual crisis it sends him spiralling into.
Words : 56,334 Chapters : 13/13 Rating : Explicit
AO3 : x
Two Truths and a Lie About Steve Harrington
endzela
Steve is desperate to find a date for his high school reunion, and his best friend Eddie volunteers to pretend to be his boyfriend. What Eddie doesn't know, however, is that Steve has had a crush on him ever since they became friends in college, and although Steve is not planning on letting him find out about it now, spending a week together in the same room might make things difficult. Especially since Eddie keeps flirting with him at every chance he gets.
Words : 20,057 Chapters : 2/2 Rating : Mature
AO3 : x
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justmeinadaze · 8 months
Text
Take It Out On Me Part 16 (Steddie X You)
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Warning with some notes: Please enjoy this Steddie story that I desperately need right now.
Daddy Steve and Sir/Master Eddie and Sub Fem reader and all that implies (I regret nothing) SMUT, restraints, slight degrading, dirty talk, over stimulation, THE SCOOPS AHOY UNIFORM (yes daddy), Not a whole lot of ANGST (saving that for the next chapter :P), reader mentions diabetes in her family very briefly, expresses being stressed and asks Eddie to help her relieve it, FLUFF (a lot of it; just come cuddle me please and tell me you're proud of me. )
Word Count: 3315
Steve smirks over at the booth you’re sitting in at his store as you do your homework. He loves watching your face scrunch as you focus, biting the end of your pen while you’re thinking. He could seriously just stare at you all day if you would allow him to. What you didn’t know was he had actually spent a lot of his high school years doing that very thing. 
Like he had told Masie during your prom, he always found you attractive and not just physically. For those first years, you were always so quiet so when he saw you cracking up with Masie at the lunch table or making jokes with the other basketball girls, it made him swoon. That day he heard you shout at Carol junior year; he was so proud of you but at the same time angry with himself. Steve had also heard her picking on you beforehand and he didn’t say a word. He never did. 
You had told him a few months ago how he had been tightly wound at the time you two officially met and that was part of the reason. Beside the fact that his dad was always on his ass, the popular kids were pushing him, and he was struggling at school, he hated who had become. For a boy who liked to be in control, he seemed to have very little if any. 
That first night when Eddie insinuated that you hated him, it made Steve furious but at the situation. He didn’t want you to hate him. For a moment he thought he would never have a chance with you but then you kissed him, igniting a fire he had never felt before. Even if your relationship with him ended up being purely sexual he knew he’d do anything to take care of you and protect you.
“Hey. Take a break.”, he commanded as he slid a boat of your favorite ice cream in front of you and took a seat. Steve tenderly pushed some hair behind your ear and you exhaled as you leaned against his shoulder. 
“Thank you. I’m so exhausted. I can’t wait for the semester to be over.” 
After taking a bite of the snack he brought you, you offered him a spoon but he politely declined. 
“I have to stay in shape.”
“For who?”, you cackled. “Steve Harrington, first off you always look amazing. Second, you eat all that fruit back there. I see you!”
“He does.”, Robin grins as he playfully scowls at her.
“There’s nothing wrong with fruit.”
“A little bit yeah. Too much of it, no. Fruit is loaded with sugar. My uncle’s a diabetic and he can only have so much because it raises his levels.”
“I didn’t know that. Is that the uncle in New York?” 
“Yeah, I don’t talk about it much because usually I get the ‘Oh, you should really watch your weight’ speech even though most doctors do tests and find out I’m healthy.”
Steve reaches out to pet your head as you offer him your spoon again and this time he smiles as he takes an obnoxiously big bite. 
***
“Hey, sexy.”, Eddie grins as you enter the apartment and throw your bag against the wall. “Long day?” 
You heavily nod as you stride over to him and wrap your arms around his waist, happily sighing when he kisses your forehead. 
“May I ask you for a favor?”, you ask as you push your face into his chest.
“Of course, baby, anything.”
“Can you calm me down? I’m so stressed out and I just…don’t want to think about anything for a while.”
“I think I can do that. Do you want to wait for Steve or…”
“Hmmm…Daddy gets off in an hour. I’m sure you can find ways to fill the time until he gets home.”
Eddie chuckles as he leans back and cranes his neck to find your lips. “I definitely can. Come on, sweetheart. Let me help you relax.”
###########
A little over an hour later, Steve finally came through the door, kicking off his sneakers as he entered the apartment. 
“Took you long enough!”, Eddie cackled. “Get in here, Steven.”
The man rolled his eyes as he sauntered towards the bedroom preparing a sassy comment that completely left his brain when his eyes landed on the scene before him. The metalhead was sitting in a chair across from the bed in just his jeans holding the vibrating wand in his hand. You were restrained in the bed, him using belts as handcuffs again that chained you to the headboard. 
“Pretty girl asked for a little break so I just gave her some water and before I knew it she fell asleep. Perfect time for you to come home.”
“What, uh, what’s going on?”
“Y/N came home saying she needed some help releasing some stress. I asked her if she wanted to wait for Daddy and she said that I could fill the time however I chose until you got home.”, he wickedly grinned in the other man’s direction. “So out of curiosity, I wanted to know how many times I could make her cum before you got home. Right now, I’m at…12?” His fingers gesture towards the markings he had made on your tummy with a marker. “Yeah, 12.”
“We were talking and she kept saying how much she wanted to fuck you in that uniform.” Eddie rises from his chair and pats it for Steve to take. Hastily removing his pants, he climbed onto the bed and tenderly kissed up your body. “Princess, wake up. Daddy’s here.”
You groaned sleepily as you turned towards his voice and drowsily kissed his lips. 
“Hey, honey.”, Steve cooed as he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “I’m home. Has Master been helping you clear your brain?”
Eddie climbed up further, placing his own knees by your head as his hand reached out to pet you while you nodded. 
“Can you verbally answer me, babe?”
You purred like a cat as it stretches after a long nap. “Yes, Daddy. Sir has been taking real good care of me.”
They both moaned at your high-pitched tone as your eyes fully opened to find Eddie’s cock inches above your lips. Your tongue darted out to lick along one of his veins towards his balls. 
“Fuck me, sweetheart. Don’t move, ok? Just…keep that mouth open for me while I make you cum again while Daddy watches. If you…you be a good girl for me Daddy can fuck you in his uniform just like you want, angel.”
“Yes, Sir.” Obediently, you open your lips, flattening your tongue as he slides his length down your throat. His palms slide down your skin, stopping to play with your nipples as you whimper around him. You jump as he lightly smacks them, squeaking at the sudden feeling causing Steve to salivate at the sound as his own palm finds its way to the bulge in his shorts.
Eddie grins as his hip gradually thrust against your face, his fingers sliding further down to glide through your folds and breach your core. 
“Fuck, Harrington. She’s so fucking tight. I—jesus—I love how tight you get after you cum, princess.” As his digits work their magic inside of you, you whimper around his cock as he mewls above you. “That’s it. Good girl. J-just clear your mind and let go. Focus on—mmm—focus on my dick in the back of your throat. God, you feel so good.”
The sound of your slick fills the room as he trusts his fingers into you faster, his other hand behind your head gripping your hair and holding you still. When he felt your pussy clench around him, he stopped moving his hips and held you in place as your throat constricted around him. 
The moan that left his chest was enough to send you over the edge as you came again and he promptly pulled himself out of your mouth allowing you to feel your climax. 
A small chuckle escaped him as he kissed your forehead when you started to cry. 
“Color, baby?”
“G-g-green, Sir. I just…I love you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank—”
Breathily, you kept repeating your last sentence as Eddie reached above you to release you from the headboard. 
“I love you to, princess. You’re doing so good. Stevie, hand me that marker, please?” The man does what he asks and the metalhead marks another dash on your tummy before handing it back. “Are you ready to take my cock, sweetheart?”
“Please, Sir.”
“How are your wrists? Not to tight or cutting your skin, right?”, he asks as he positions you on all fours with your head facing Steve.
“No, Sir. Hi, Daddy.”, you grin drunkenly in his direction. 
“Hey, honey.” His hand reaches out tenderly brush your hair out of your face as you fall flat against the mattress while Eddie utilizes one of the belts to tie your hands behind your back. 
After widening your legs a bit more, his chest leans against you back as he grinds himself against you. 
“Do you trust me, baby? Do you trust me to take you however I want to?”
“Of course. I’m yours.”
He mewls into your ear at your words. “It’s been a while since we’ve heard you say that.”
Craning your neck, you kiss his cheek till he turns so his lips can meet yours. “I’m yours, baby. Yours and Daddy’s. Make me feel good, Master, please. F-fuck me hard till I—”
While you were speaking, Eddie slowly slid his cock into your entrance, erasing almost all thought from your mind as he stretched your tight walls open. He growled in his throat at the feeling and you watched as the metalhead disappeared and Master fully stepped forward in his eyes.
“Keep going, little one.” His lips traced your shoulder and your eyes rolled back as he pumped his hips roughly into yours. “I said…keep…going…”
“Mmm—I want you to fuck me till—ah—till I can’t walk straight. I want to f-feel you both for days.”
Leaning back on his knees, he gave you what you wanted while taking what was his. You tried to keep your eyes on Steve in front of you as he licked his palm and stroked his cock but you struggled as Eddie hit every sensitive spot deep inside of you.
Slowly descending to his knees, he laid his face down in front of your own as you turned your cheek to lay your head flat on the mattress. 
“How does it feel, baby girl?”
“S-so good, Daddy.”
“Yeah? Are you feeling less stressed?”
When you only nodded, Eddie’s palm came down hard on your behind. 
“Yes, yes Daddy.”
The metalhead abruptly pulled out, tugging on your ankles till you were fully flat against the bed. Placing his knees on either side of your thighs, he guided himself back into your cunt as both his strong, tattooed arms came into view. When his hips slammed into yours, you swear you see stars.
Eddie was so deep inside of you, punching all the right places with his thick cock you didn’t even hear Steve asking you questions until you felt the other man’s sweaty skin against your back and his hand loop around to grip your throat. 
“You’re not behaving, little girl.  Daddy asked you something.”
“I can’t…I didn’t…”
“I guess you don’t want to fuck him in his outfit after all.”
“I do, I do. Please…”
“It’s ok, Ed. Little baby is just drunk off your cock. Isn’t that right, honey?”
“Feels so good. So deep.”
“Is Master just too much for your pretty little pussy?”
“Please…I’m…”
Eddie’s hand released you to allow his arm to wrap around until your head was resting in the nook of his elbow. His breath warmed your ear as he rolled his hips hard and fast making the bed jostle underneath you. 
“Cum, princess. You can do it. Cum on my cock so I can fill you up, pretty girl. Goddamn…”
Your hands tugged against the belt while your lower half pushed back against him as you came. He grunted loudly and with a couple for hard thrusts released rope after rope of his seed into your body.
You both panted heavily as you continued to twitch underneath him.
“You…you did so good, sweetheart. Fuck. Do-do you need anything?”
“Can we unhook my arms for a little bit, please?”
Eddie smirked at your small voice as he lightly kissed your shoulder before climbing off you and unhooking the belt. When you rolled over onto your back Steve was waiting, delicately lifting you onto his lap as he leaned against the headboard. 
He smiled to himself when your damp forehead leaned against the side of his face as he ran his palms over your arms to massage out any pain you may be having. He paused for a moment when he heard your giggle.
“What are you laughing at, honey?”
“You smell like bananas.”
“To be fair, I have cut back after what you told me.” His grin grew as you nuzzled your nose into his neck. 
“It’s ok, Daddy. I like the way you smell.”
“Lay back, babe.”, he whispered. 
Doing what he commanded, you lay flat on your back with your head on the pillow as he reaches for the marker and draws another line next to the others. 
“Well look at you, little miss. One more and you’ll be at 15.” Your eyes flutter as you flash him a slanted sultry smile. “Are you ready for me?”
“Always, Daddy.”
Chuckling, he rolls till his body is on top of yours. Allowing you two space, Eddie moves to sit in the chair by the bed, watching as everything unfolds. 
“So, you want the whole uniform? Do I need the hat?”
“No.”, you giggle as you run your hands through his hair. “No hat.”
“Why do you like this outfit so much? All the other girls seem to think I look like a dork.”
The way you smile up at him makes his heart melt. No one had ever looked at them the way did; with so much love and adoration. You didn’t know but it scared Eddie a bit the first time he saw it. After your fight with Carol junior year when he brought you food, he had found you snooping around his room. When you asked about the photo of his family, your eyes reflected that adoration and his wall went up. 
The last woman who said she loved him abandoned him and for so long he was afraid of losing you. He thought maybe if he continued to be a prick and act like the tough scary bad boy then when you did leave it wouldn’t hurt so much. A part of him thought when you got back from New York, you wouldn’t want them anymore but when he slid into the classroom that morning and your big, beautiful eyes met his he knew. He knew you missed them as much as they had missed you. 
“I don’t know. You just look so sexy to me.” Your hands gently run down his chest, your fingers grazing that little bit of chest hair that peaks above his shirt. “Maybe it’s just you in it.”
Opening your legs wider, you allow him more access as he begins grinding his hips against yours. 
“We can test that theory. Let Munson try it on.”
“Steve Harrington, there isn’t enough money in the world you could pay me to put that uniform on.”
You both laugh as Steve reaches between your bodies to push down his shorts a bit more and grip his cock as he runs the tip through your folds. 
“Fuck. Always so warm.” His head falls beside yours and your pussy clenches as his needy pants heat up the skin on your neck. “How do you want Daddy, baby? Tell me. Tell me how you need it.”
“I just need you. Please, Daddy. Take what’s yours. I don’t care if it hurts.”
“Jesus Christ.”, he groaned, lifting his head to watch himself guide his hard length into your cunt. Your tight, sore walls clung to him like a vice and it was almost to much for even him. “Fuck. I don’t think I can be fucking gentle.”
Placing your palm on his cheek, you bring his lips to yours.
“Then don’t.”
He growled as Daddy fully took control and he collapsed against you thrusting roughly into you. Your hands clung to him tightly, pulling and yanking at his clothes as you caressed him anywhere you could reach. Pushing up on his arms, one of his legs slid your own higher up the mattress forcing him deeper into you making you mewl. Reaching for your wrists, he held them above your head as he pounded into you, his cock hitting your overstimulated sensitive spots that Eddie had stuck numerous times that evening with his own cock and fingers. 
“Open your eyes, baby girl. You—mmm—said you wanted to fuck me in this. You can’t see me when those beautiful eyes are closed.”
“Feels…so—fuck—good…”, you whined. Steve released your wrists as he leaned back onto his knees and lifted your legs over his shoulders.
“Cum, Y/N. Cum on my dick, baby.” His thumb reached down to play with your clit, making you cry out as your hand shot down to try and stop him. It was no use; he was stronger than you and all you did was egg him on as he rubbed your aching bundle of nerves faster. “Come on, honey! You can do it. Number 15. This is the last one! Make it count.”
Eddie bolted up from his chair to cover your mouth, muffling your scream as you came.
“Good girl! Yes, that’s our good girl.”
You barely heard his praises as your hooded eyes watched as his head hung and with a few more rough thrusts warmed your insides. You felt the cold tip of the marker glide the final tally on your stomach before two sets of lips tenderly kissed the sides of your throat. 
##########
A little while later your eyes slowly opened at the feel fingers caressing your face. 
“Hey. There she is. You doing alright, princess?” You nodded as you scoot your body closer to his. “Steve ran out to pick up some food really quick. He wanted to have everything ready for when you woke up and after we took a shower. He’s not as disgustingly sweaty as we are.” He grins when you laugh. “I wish I knew you before junior year. Sometimes I get jealous that Steve remembers you before we met.”
His comment fully wakes you up as your eyes search his. 
“You don’t remember seeing me at all?”
“No because I’m pretty sure if I had I would have pursued you as soon as I did. Do you remember me?”
Wrapping your arm around his waist, he sighs pleasantly as your fingers trace down his back. “I knew of you but I never believed what I heard. To be fair, my head was always down 99% of the time.” He smiles, nodding to himself. “Where did that come from, Eddie?”
His movements stop as he gives you his full attention.
“I don’t have a lot of people in my life that I love and trust. My life…has been rough…pretty much until I met you. I love you, Y/N and I’m so fucking proud of you. I know school has been stressing you out but you’re just rockin’ it, babe. I hope you realize that.”
Tilting forward you place your lips on his before pressing your face into his chest. 
“I do, Sir. Sometimes I just need to be reminded.” 
##########
Some people did ask for more tags but I think I forgot some. If I did let me know!
@manda-panda-monium @sherrylyn628 @eddiesguitarskills
@needylilgal022 @local-stoner-bitch @katethetank
@strangerfreak @sidthedollface2 @mandyjo8719
@bexreadstoomuch @chelebelletx @ima1986 @perdopascalslilbaby
@shayeddie @emsgoodthinkin @anaibis @wroteclassicaly
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@miarosso @micheledawn1975 @paleidiot @mrsjellymunson
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doomsdaybby · 4 months
Text
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chapter one: pre-soak. laundromat!steve au x fem!reader mini series. you can find the blurb here 🫶🏻
content/warnings: strangers to lovers, barely any plot (no twists or turns, just watch two cuties fall in love), no use of y/n, fluff, mutual pining, steve is such a sweetheart, soft!steve 🥹, steve being a lovesick puppy, reader is just a little mean, jealous!steve at points, ronance bc I love them, eventual smut (not this chapter), she/her pronouns and physical female descriptions used for reader character throughout.
word count: 2.9k
I do not proofread my work, so please be forgiving of any mistakes.
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Suds N’ Sparks Laundromat. Spring 1989.
Steve Harrington works round the clock shifts for exactly four dollars an hour to make ends meet. From sunrise to sunset, his life was surrounded by flickering yellow lights (if you looked closely enough you could see the moths that had scuttled too close to the hot bulbs), emptied pockets of spilled quarters on countertops and the rhythmic mind-numbing rumble of washing machines that soon became white noise. 
Steve had already run through exactly eight job positions in the last four years. Don’t ask him how, he seems to never make it stick. The conclusion drew to him a while back that he was the world’s biggest fuck up, and that’s the way it was supposed to be. 
It wasn't all bad, he worked alone, the regulars were nice enough and the paycheck was on the surprisingly sunny side compared to Scoops Ahoy, Family Video, camp counseling, that one busboy position that lasted five minutes, and the paperboy, and… you get the point. 
It was working well enough for him right now, covering the rent and bills for his and Robin’s shared apartment, and of course gas money, whilst saving him a little extra on the side for whatever his heart desired, and that was all he could ask for. Besides, there weren't many openings left in Hawkins for him to fall back on, almost every business manager the town had on offer had mindlessly sifted through Steve Harrington’s glistening -eye roll- resume since the fall of 1985 at one point or another.
He had to somehow make this one last longer than 8 months, his new year's resolution, or else Steve would surely have to pack up his shit and leave. 
Though for right now, the laundromat put an undetermined stop in the infinite revolving door that was his employment track record, and it felt like a small sigh of relief that the customers actually seemed to like him. A lot. 
Mrs Fletcher, who insisted on Steve calling her by her first name Helen (he never did), brought in exactly two baskets of laundry at precisely 5pm every Friday evening. Not a minute early, not a second late. Mrs Fletcher was a single woman in her mid to late 50’s, give or take, and was not resistant to the irresistible Harrington charm, despite Steve never uttering a single flirtatious syllable in her direction. 
He was woefully made aware that she was single because she made an intentional point to mention it every. single. week. Divorced, husband left her in a bunch of debt yada yada blah blah. Whatever. You would think that he was joking, a tad on the dramatic side maybe, but Helen managed to slip it in there at one point or another during each conversation.
She actually lived on Maple Street, only a couple houses down from the Wheeler’s. Steve remembers her kind waves and cheery ‘Hello’s’ to him and Nancy during their highschool sweetheart days. But since word most certainly got around in Hawkins, once Jonathon Byers took his place linked hand in hand with his past burning flame, it wasn't difficult to put two and two together that the pair had split. So once Steve appeared at the closest local laundromat, Helen Fletcher was positively thrilled. 
Steve was in the thick of his routinely one-sided chat with his admirer, elbows resting spread east and west on the counter and arms stretched out in front of him in closed palms, eyes beginning to glaze over since having swapped her one dollar note for four quarters almost twenty minutes ago. Though the shrill ting of the doorbell thankfully pulled him from the jumping record that were his strained, yet still polite, ‘uh huh’-s and ‘oh really’-s. 
Robin stumbled through the door, a pull-string hamper hanging heavy by the crook of her elbow, Nancy linked snugly in the other. They both cheesed wide at Steve’s unfortunate current predicament, seemingly unaware of the disapproving grumbles and wary eyes of the few balding middle-aged men slouched on the wooden chairs opposite the rowdy dryers, newspapers held up to their brows. 
Though they continued with grace, still very much knitted as one strutting hip to hip and sharing an all too knowing glance, one that only read trouble and hours of persistent teasing that Steve was bitterly well acquainted with. Robin slings the hamper onto the counter that sat at the very back wall with a leaded thud, requesting smaller change in favor of a one dollar bill outstretched in her hand, much like her new shoulder buddy, who is now non-discretely grumbling behind her teeth. 
Robin notices, and turns to flash the older woman a pearly ear-to-ear grin, blinking her eyes as if to say ‘need something?’. Helen glowered, lips curled up in clear aggravation. Nancy disguises a poorly hidden grin behind a wipe of her mouth, and Robin’s off-putting aura worked its well-oiled charm as Mrs Fletcher went about her business. Seven days of rest, and Steve felt like he could breathe again. At least she took the hint? 
“We did laundry two days ago” Steve looks disappointed, jaw falling somewhat slack. 
“You’re so right. But, uhm, we had a problem” Robin’s lips downturn with a shred of guilt, albeit short lived, her left eye creasing under the lower lash in a semi-squint.
“Problem? What problem?”
Nancy’s cheeks are sucked in, rows of teeth biting the inside to stifle her giggling, accentuating her structured features. Though Steve couldn’t put his finger on what was so funny. 
“We tried to make dinner. Dinner involved red wine. We drank some of it, it was good, and then we kindaspilledsaidredwineverywhere” She finished in a hurry at the conclusion, speaking incoherently from the corner of her mouth.
Now the ceaseless snickering made sense. They were not drunk by any means, but a little too merry and conversing an octave too high for the closing curtain of Steve’s shift. Ten hours of staring at the same four plant-lined poorly painted carolina blue walls was enough to make anyone go stir crazy. Though in the warmer months the breeze was admittedly very refreshing with the door wedged open, so that was a perk. 
Steve tips out a hand to take the bag from Robin with a sigh, a deepening crease in his brow and not enough confidence in his chest to watch the two flounder and fidget with the washing machines. 
“You’re not angry?” Nancy taunts, almost expectant, with rounded eyes and fingers now laced with Robin’s as they turn to follow Steve to the large island of cheap wood and steel legs that stood point blank in the middle of the room, the swirling barrels of damp and drying laundry surrounding it. 
“Ask me again tomorrow” he responds with an exhausted huff, a hint of a scoff. Steve empties out the soiled linens onto the countertop, surveying each garment to assess the damage. 
“Jesus, did you guys rob the liquor store?” 
Surely they had used more than one, maybe even more than two bottles of wine for whatever they decided promoted them to culinary artists for the evening. More snickering, though they both prodded and knocked one another at the hip. If Steve rolled his eyes any harder they would spin out of his head.
So Steve guided Robin and Nancy to the chairs opposite where he was shoving clothing one by one into the drum of the washing machine, eyeing them warily like toddlers in a playpen, wishing that they would quieten down before the disgruntled muttering of the elderly man at the other end of their row of chairs transitioned into uncensored hate speech. 
Steve resorts to mumbling to himself about how they were going to eventually get him in big trouble having to defend them from their own big mouths, and the potential consequences of said unfiltered big mouths, one day or another. He reaches into the bottom of the hamper to pull out a mauve coloured table cloth, that was now three quarters a giant violet stain. 
Steve is too tired for a Friday evening and he wished that the last forty-five minutes of his shift would wrap up as swiftly as it was for his two hysterical friends to fuck up a brand new table cloth. He grasps the material edge to edge in his fists, obscuring his view as he begins to walk forwards, ignoring the familiar ting-ing of the small bell above the janky door, as Robin and Nancy exchanged grimaces and mocking chastising in voices that were supposed to resemble Steve’s scoldings. 
Though Steve doesn’t quite make it to the washer, instead crashing chest first into your towering and, for lack thereof a better word, foreboding laundry basket, thus by default, you. Your walkman clatters to the black and white tiled floor, Fleetwood Mac cassette striking loose to slide under an adjacent tumble-dryer with a grainy swish. The headphones dislodge from the plug-in, now hanging lopsided from your ears as your ass smacks to the ground, a dull painful shockwave radiating up your tailbone. 
“Fuck!” a curse exclaimed in unison, and Steve is already hauling himself up off the floor, “Watch where you’re fuc-” a helping hand in front of your face before you can even finish your sentence, teeth clacking shut in silence at the unexpected assistance. 
“Could say the same to you” Steve replied, back twinging as he lugs you up off the floor, “Sorry, it’s been a long day and-” he looks at you properly then, and absentmindedly squeezes your hand in kindness. You watch him expectantly, dusting off your flared jeans with your free hand, wincing something awful as you cup your lower back. 
“Shit, shit” He starts quickly, eyes growing partly wide with urgence, forgetting that you were about to rip him a new asshole. “Are you okay?” his brows pinch to mirror yours, gaze flicking in a hurry from the pained expression on your face to the palm nursing right above your tailbone. It was genuine, his concern, you can hear it in his buttery tone. 
“No,” you respond in a way that delivered meaner than you intended, before saying a little kinder, “That really fucking hurt”. You release a breath of a laugh, barely there but it could still be heard whilst Steve steadies you, hands still firmly clasped together. He’s warm, maybe too warm, skin soft and his hands are much larger than your own. 
“Hey, didn’t you work at that ice cream place a couple years ago? At the mall? Obviously before it burned down and everything” You ask, eyes curious and voice blanketed in familiarity. Steve blinks at you, blindsided by how the now setting sun reflects in your gentle glassy stare, and you realize that you’re still holding hands. 
“You flirted with me once, desperation must be your thing” you continued with a small chuckle when he didn't answer, a jab at yourself rather than him, the previous question more rhetorical and an obvious nose-dive attempt of a dialogue starter. 
You release him lightly, and Steve becomes aware a little late when you eye him warily, brows pulling together in an uneasy crease, slightly taken aback by his silence. The patch of stillness was awkward, though it gave you a moment to survey him. 
“He’s not much of a ladies man anymore” Robin chimes in with a jump from her seat, the saving grace to the now painfully uncomfortable atmosphere. Steve runs a hand down his face, partially catching his lower lids. Please, God, if you’re listening, just fucking kill me, he thought to himself.
You hum, and Steve’s cheeks dust the rosiest shade of pink when you give him a once over, though you’re leaning a little away from him now. His blue green long sleeved is bunched up to make a three quarter length, though his left has slipped down to his wrist now. Two shiny metal buttons are undone, a sliver of a white undershirt peeking through at the collar. There’s a faded spot of spilt laundry detergent splashed right where his heart sits. 
Robin is never going to let him forget this moment for the rest of his life. 
Steve was a very handsome guy, you couldn’t deny that. You even thought he was pretty cute the few times he served you raspberry ripple ice cream with sprinkles on top. The sailor outfit was a nice touch, though he clearly never got much action. You were lucky enough to audience some of his failed pick-up lines back then. Poor thing, his ego must have been so battered and bruised. 
Your mouth curls at the corner fondly, “Uh, thankyou, by the way. For helping me up”. 
“I should have watched where I was fucking going” Steve says, finishing off your earlier snipped jab, eyebrows hitting his hairline and dusting his hands off on his jeans. He dips his face away, but you can see the rippling of smile lines that adorn his cheeks. 
“And yeah, yeah I worked at Scoops. You from around here?” Desperate to change the subject, the tips of his ears were flaring up. The regular A/C now didn’t feel like enough, he was hot with embarrassment. You're beginning to pick up the dropped laundry now with Nancy and Robin’s help, after setting your lonely headphones and busted walkman onto the counter. Steve also resumed his previous task. 
“I’m from Roanoke, you know, just outside Fort Wayne?” Steve nods, still focused on the wine-stained linens. You continue, “My Dad lives out here, so I've been back and forth, more so the last couple years since I left high school”. Steve makes a mental note, no wonder he can’t quite place you.
“When’d you graduate?” he asks, and Robin winces though she doesn’t really know why. Steve glances up from Nancy’s soft blouse in his hands, running the fabric through his fingertips as he watches you.
“‘82” your nose wrinkles, quickly darting a pair of red underwear into the machine next to Steve. He pretends that he didn’t notice. You were older, even if it was just a couple years. Steve liked that. 
“Why move out to Hawkins?” Nancy invades with interest, though you welcome the extra input with grace. It had been a while since anyone had shown this much interest in you. Your lips twist faintly in contemplation, not wanting to overshare whilst seeking their prolonged attention for as long as you could have it. Greedy, really. But it felt nice, normal. 
“Change of pace. I like it here” you answer her question with honesty, which was accepted for what it was. Though none of them really understood why you would like Hawkins, almost everyone in the small town wanted to get out of there as fast as humanly possible. 
Steve Harrington stayed later that shift, the extent of his fatigue and burning desire to collapse in bed numbed by this new infatuation. Maybe the reminder of having the weekend off was enough to ice the burn. You shared enough but too much considering the three before you were strangers, though not even an hour with them and you felt like you had known them for years. 
You spoke mostly with Robin and Nancy, Steve chiming in here and there. His gaze was either trained on you or his fidgeting fingers the entire time it took for your laundry to wash and dry. The girls were giggling, and he managed to get a good look at how your under-eyes crinkle when you smiled, the inattentive purse of your lips when you just sat and listened, specks of mascara dusting underneath your lashes where you had been clumsy. 
This might become a problem, he thought. 
“See you around, sparky” You wave once your now pristine laundry was folded into the basket a whole ninety minutes after your crash to the floor, a natural charm laced in the flash of a closed mouth smile, a cordial wave to your new friendly acquaintances. Steve felt the air settle once you left, he blinked, his heart had skipped a couple beats. You’d forgotten your tape, your walkman, and your headphones. 
Steve raises a hand from the counter, fingers twiddling kindly in your direction. The upturn of his mouth is completely unfeigned, and it makes his stomach twist and his legs feel unsteady.
Robin and Steve turn to look at eachother, hands on his hips and a couple beads of sweat stippling his hairline. She’s smiling, an evil thing with no malice behind it. Nancy's lower jaw is sitting loose, her lips parted, watching Steve as if the stars are aligning before her very eyes.
“Robs,” he deadpans, a warning. “Please. Don’t say anything” he feels the blood rushing to his cheeks, rubbing the back of his neck with clammy fingers. 
Nancy and Robin crook their necks to peer at each other, Nancy’s bottom lip is firmly tucked into her top row of teeth, a grin spreading wide. Robin’s mouth is purely hanging open in amazement, and Steve braced himself for what was to come. 
They both inhale and Steve screws his eyes closed with a steady inhale through the nose. Reels of kissing noises are thrown his way, the two women’s puckered lips and incessant snorting makes Steve want to crawl out of his skin. He can’t hear whatever raised-pitched fun they’re making of him, drowning it out as much as he is able whilst fishing the car keys from his pocket. Another perk of the job, considering the laundromat was twenty-four hours, he didn’t have to close. 
“You guys are assholes” Steve remarks, but the glimmer of a smirk remains just the same.
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thankyou for reading this if you made it to the end! 🫶🏻 pls reblog & comment if you like this! I haven’t written fully like this in a good while so i’m feeling pretty anxious. much love x
dividers by @inklore 🩷
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Text
Suzie, Do You Copy?
pairing: steve harrington x female byers!reader
WC: 5.2K
warnings: cussing, steve and reader being in love (disgusting). should be it.
summary: Fourth of July is just around the corner. First month of summer moved by in a flash, your busy with work, trying to spend time with your friends and family, and making sure you get to smother your boyfriend in all the love he deserves. But just how long will this peace last?
A/N: ALL PARTS UNDER THE TAG - The Byers Harrington Story- MY FAVORITE SEASON IS FINALLY HERE!!!!! if you have an updated username when you first joined the taglist please let me know what the old name was and give me to new one so you get the notifications.
this has been sitting since january 1st…
@alecmores 💗
series masterlist / steve harrington
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With the mall buzzing with life on the final day of June, Scoops Ahoy luckily wasn’t packed to the teeth with customers. The booths and tables had barely a handful of occupants, a couple sharing a milkshake, friends laughing and gossiping over their cups or cones in one of the corner booths, and a single mom with her child who was sloppily indulging in their sweet treat. People come in and out of the store with their desserts to continue browsing the giant structure.
Robin was stationed at the counter, scooping orders and ringing their prices. Steve was busting some tables in the lobby before his fifteen started, and you were in the back checking the inventory. Somehow you got bumped to assistant manager, a mystery still swimming in your brain.
Even with it being summer in Hawkins, you had to bring a nice sweater with you for every shift since you’ll most likely end up in the freezer for a few hours, jotting down what flavors are running low, what requires reordering and what flavors need to be pushed more. Sometimes when you run into Robin or Steve after leaving the ice box, the nickname you gave it, they’ll make a quick joke about your flushed cheeks or bright nose.
“Can’t believe I still make you blush after six months of dating.” or “Christmas isn’t for another six months, Rudolph.”
Just as you finished your inventory check of the night, the solid metal door slamming close behind you, Steve pushes through the swinging doors for his break. He threw the dirty rag and disinfectant spray in a bucket beside the sink, as you dropped the clipboard to the tiny table in the middle of the room and stripped your jacket off your shoulders.
“So, what’s the news?” Steve always asked that same question when you were done with your checklist. 
“Uh,” you leaned above the paper, eyes squinting a bit, “need more strawberries, a giant tub of raspberry cheesecake is set to expire next month on the twelfth, and we need more rocky road.”
You sat in the chair beside Steve, head resting in your palm with your elbow poking at the tabletop. Your eyes were drooping, wishing so badly to just rest your head against your pillow and knockout. Steve must’ve noticed your tiredness, his eyes peeking into your view along with a poke to your free cheek.
“Tired?” You just nodded. “Was it another nightmare?”
You hesitated in answering but knew Steve would find out either way, “yeah. It involved you and Will. Wasn’t pretty. I almost called-”
“Why didn’t you?” He interrupted. “Steve, I didn’t want to wake you, plus, it wasn’t crazy horrible. I was just… just shook me up a little.” A truth and a lie.
He sighed, “(Y/n),” he took your chin between his thumb and forefinger and turned your attention to him, “if you ever have a nightmare, whether I’m in it or not, please just call me. I will come over without hesitation, you know I’m always looking for an excuse to stay at your place.” A gentle smile brightened his face.
“You know my mom is okay with you staying over.”
“Yeah, but I don’t want to overstay my welcome. Plus, Jonathan probably needs space from me now and then.” Their relationship was still a bit rocky, but Steve was constantly working on fixing it, and Jonathan was just… allowing it to happen.
“Speaking of staying over,” you twisted in your seat so your knees were touching, “wanna come over tonight? After last night, I could use my human body pillow.”
Steve laughed, “oh, that’s all I am to you? A body pillow?”
“Well, among many other things,” you started to lean forward, hoping Steve got the message with your action.
And just when he started to meet you halfway, lips inches from connecting, the front bell began to chime repeatedly. Instead of your lips meeting in a sweet, sugar-tasting kiss, your foreheads connected. Steve’s eyes closed and he breathed a sigh through his nose, while you rubbed your lips together to stop a smile.
“Hey, lovebirds, your children are here.” Robin’s teasing voice floated from the front counter through the sliding window.
Steve reluctantly pulled away and threw open the divider. He rested his right arm along the white counter while his left was propped up. From your seat, you could see Mike, Will, Lucas, and Max formed in their huddle.
“Again? Seriously?” He took a glance at you then back to the four, “(Y/n) could ban you idiots.”
“I could, but I do have a bit of a soft spot for them,” you cringed at the flabbergasted look Steve was throwing you.
And when it looked like he was about to say something, another ding stole the attention. Mike’s bored face stared back.
“Well, except for Mike sometimes.” You mumbled before you motioned for them to come to the back.
You opened the back entrance, and one by one they entered the long hallway. With Will being the last one out, you ruffled his growing bowl cut, “you want a ride home?”
He walked backward, front facing you with his back to his friends, “I’ll stop by after the movie and tell you.” He then flipped around and hurried to join the other three.
Steve walked out in the hallway, hands resting at his hips, “I swear if anybody hears about this-” “We’re dead!” They all cut him off. “Have fun!” You chimed in.
You both waited until they turned the corner and were out of sight before heading back to the store. Steve took the free opportunity to pull you into his arms, back flush again his chest with his arms wrapped tight around your stomach. His head dipped down so his lips lined with your ear, “I think I was promised something before we were rudely interrupted.”
A joyful smile took over you, “oh really? I didn’t know we were handing out prizes at work now.”
“Oh, yeah. Helps boost employee morale or something.”
“Morale? Didn’t know we were in need of boosting.”
The two of you continue your slow waddle into the breakroom, Steve not losing his grip.
“Well, me, I personally could use a boost.” He finally freed you from his tight grasp, just allowing you to spin so you were chest to chest. 
“And what could boost your morale, Harrington?”
“Hm?” He hummed with a finger at his chin, really playing up his act, “Oh! What about a kiss from a lovely girl? And may the lovely girl be you, Byers?”
You copied his theatrical gesture, brows furrowed, eyes squinted, with a finger pressed to your pursed lips in fake thought.
“Why not,” you faked enthusiasm that Steve fully saw through.
Steve went with his signature kissing maneuver. His large hands rested on the sides of your face, pinkies resting just under your ears, while his thumbs swiped across your plush cheeks. You would either hold his wrist as you pushed to your tip toes or Steve would already be leaning down and you would hold him in place with your hands at his face or arms wrapped around his neck. Today it was the latter, Steve being very eager to get his kiss before something or someone could stop it from happening.
And when his lips melted into yours, a steady rhythm was building, with hands wandering from their original spots. And just before it could go any further, your bliss was broken by someone loudly coughing. The two of you broke apart and turned to the point of noise.
Robin had a disgusted scowl painted across her face with her arms crossed over her chest, “Harrington, I need you up front with me while (Y/n) goes on her break.” She turned to head back up front before twisting back, “and (Y/n), you promised to keep PDA to a very low minimum at work. For my pure eyes.”
“Sorry, Robs.”
She pushed the saloon doors open when the ring of the front bell went off. You gave Steve one quick peck to the lips before pushing at his chest, “you heard the boss, go help up front.” With that you separated, Steve was forced to do his job and you grabbed your wallet so you could get your dinner at the food court, also for Robin and Steve.
“Okay, so I’m gonna head to the food court, you two want anything?” You said with your head poking through the divider.
Robin and Steve were both helping customers so you waited with patience for them to respond to you. As you waited, you unabashedly watched Steve while he scooped ice cream, and as you were mesmerized by his biceps, the lights turned off.
“That’s weird,” Steve voiced before walking to the switch.
You and Robin watched as he flicked it on and off, continuing to mess with it even though it showed no results. Your heart rate was slowly picking up speed with the length of the lights being off.
“That isn’t gonna work, dingus.” Robin pointed out.
“Oh, really?” Steve shot back before going back to flicking the switch even faster.
Still, nothing was happening, and he finally stopped. You curled your nails into your palms, needing to feel something. Steve went back to flicking the switch, slower this time. And on the fifth time, when he flicked the switch on the lights returned to life.
“Let there be light,” and he went back to the ice cream.
Robin just glared at him before turning to you, “what a guy,” And before she could make a snide comment, she leaned in closer, “are you- are you okay? You look like you’re gonna pass out.” 
“Yeah, yeah, just not a fan of the dark. Uh, you want- you want anything, from the food court?” Needing to change the subject quickly.
She looked at you with hesitation, but played along, “uh, Orange Julius. My usual.” And she turned to the register, Steve taking her spot.
“You want anything from the food court?” “A coke and fries from Burger King, please.”
With their orders, you left the shop to officially start your hour break.
You ate your pancakes and eggs in the slow morning quiet. Will was beside you as he leaned over and grabbed another pancake, but you smacked his hand causing him to drop it.
“What?”
“Save that for Steve. You got enough on your plate.” And you shoved a fork of eggs into your mouth.
You heard a door open and footsteps before Steve came into view at the end of the hall. You flashed him a smile as he took the seat across from Will, while he took the plate where the leftover pancakes and eggs sat.
“Thank you, Ms. Byers.” Steve’s voice was deep from just waking up.
She flailed a hand, “how many times do I have to tell you, Steve? You can call me, Joyce.”
“I’ll probably need a few more reminders before it sticks.” He chuckled and then reached for the syrup.
Soon Jonathan’s door cracked open and he was rushing out while finishing his buttons. Joyce rushed over to him, Jonathan slowing his steps. You noticed the faint lipstick kiss on his cheek, but no Nancy behind him.
“Wait up.” Joyce stopped him.
“Oh, no, I’ll eat at work. I’m late.”
“No, your cheek.” And she swiped at the makeup.
Jonathan moved her hand away, “all right, all right. I gotta run. See you later.”
“Tell Nancy she can leave through the front door next time,” you yelled before the front door shut with a slam.
“Ugh. Gross.” Will muttered as Joyce walked back to her seat.
“Well, I don’t think you’re gonna think it’s gross when you fall in love.” She looked from Will to you and Steve, “just look at (Y/n) and Steve. Don’t you want what they have?”
Will eyed the both of you, you and Steve stopped eating to hear what Will was gonna say, “what? Constantly eating each other's faces?”
“Dude, come on.” You groaned at Will while Steve just laughed.
“But, Will,” Steve stopped laughing and looked directly at Will, “I’m sure you’ll find a special girl later in life. You’re a catch.”
“I’m not gonna fall in love,” Will mumbled as he poured syrup over his food.
You heard the hidden pain in his words and understood why he thought he wasn’t gonna fall in love. You gave a slight tap to Will’s foot, his eyes looking your way and you threw a small smile to show just an ounce of your love and support for him.
“What- what happened here?” Joyce muttered as she walked near the fridge.
You and Will watched as she picked up a pile of papers and magnets that must have fallen off the fridge in the middle of the night. You saw how she looked at a drawing Will did for Bob, her hand lingering before joining the three of you at the table.
“So, Will, have any plans today?” You questioned him with a mouth full of pancakes.
“Dustin’s coming home from camp today, so we’re going to surprise him at his house. Ms. Henderson was really excited about the idea.”
“Oh! You guys should try and stop by today if you have time. I know Steve is just dying to see Dustin, aren’t you Stevie?” Your attention is on him now.
You spotted the slight flush to his ears but didn’t comment on it. Steve nodded his head while chewing his food before speaking, “yeah, really miss the know it all.” A tease mixed with fondness.
You had a lovely day off today, but sadly Steve and Robin had to work. So you dropped Steve off at the mall, drove off in his BMW, promised to pick him and Robin up at the end of their shift, and decided to keep Joyce company at Melvard’s. With Starcourt bringing newer stores and better work, downtown was empty. Ghost of stores that used to be full of business and life was now just rotting buildings with their windows papered over, and envelopes stuffed at the doorway.
When you pulled up to the storefront, through the window you watched Joyce hanging a giant sale sign, fifty to seventy percent off everything. It worried you knowing that Melvard’s was probably the next store to go out of business, the one store that Joyce has worked at for as long as you can remember. You knew small little Hawkins couldn’t stay the same forever, it still worried you every day.
The bell jingled at your arrival, Joyce already smiling at your visit.
“Hi, honey. What’s up?” She hopped off the little stool and met you halfway.
You shrugged, “wanted to keep you company for a bit. Jonathan’s at work, Will’s welcoming Dustin back, and my friend and boyfriend are working today.”
“Wha- what about your other friend? That- that Munson kid?” “Uh, I heard he went out of town for a few weeks or something.” You threw your arms over Joyce’s shoulders with your face pressed to her neck, “you don’t want your favorite child visiting you?”
Her arms wrapped around your waist, “well, I don’t see Will anywhere…”
You pulled away with a hurt gasp, “mother, I am hurt. Your only daughter, how could you?”
The two of you burst into giggles over your dramatics and before you could be carried any further the bell rang again. Two pairs of eyes landing on, “hi, Hopper.” A wave thrown his way which he returned with a gentle smile.
“Sorry for interrupting-”
“Oh, it’s fine, Hop. What can we do? Or whoever you need.” Joyce started to walk away to the cash register. You stayed behind, taking note of the nervous look on Hopper’s face. Joyce turned around at the quiet coming from the tall man and scoffed, “what now?” This must have been a recurring thing between them.
“(Y/n), could you grab the pricing gun and follow me?” And she headed to an aisle with Hopper in tow.
“So Mike was at the cabin again last night, the two of them in her room, being gross. They were giggling and kissing,” Hopper looked like he wanted to throw up at the memory, “and I always make sure that her door is open three inches, so I took a peek inside to make sure nobody was crossing a line. And when I saw them kissing and called them out-”
“Could you mark this side while I do the wall? Should be three dollars, everything.” Joyce stopped Hopper's story to instruct you. “You can continue, Hopper,” you said as you walked past him.
It was a few seconds before he spoke up again, “and- and then El, she just… slams the door. Right in my face.”
“Uh-huh?” Joyce absent-mindedly responded.
“You know, it’s that smug son of a bitch, Mike. He’s corrupting her, I’m telling you.” Footsteps sounded against the cool tile, “and I’m just gonna lose it. I mean, I am gonna lose it, Joyce.”
“Just take it down, Hopper.” Her voice sounded on the other side of your aisle.
“I need them to break up.” Hopper’s voice was firm.
“That is not your decision to make.” Joyce continued to price variest items.
“They’re spending entirely too much time together. You agree with me about that, right?” Hopper stood from his spot.
“Well, (Y/n) and Steve spend a lot of time together, at work and outside. And I mean, they’re just kissing, right?” Joyce pointed out.
“Yeah, but it’s constant. It is constant.” Hopper sounded like he was gonna blow a top.
You were about to voice an opinion of yours, but Joyce beat you to speaking first, “Oh, you should hear what Will says about (Y/n) and Steve, especially this morning-”
“Mom! Don’t say stuff like that.” You groaned.
“What- I’m just trying to help Hopper with examples.”
“Yeah, but I’m- Steve and I, we’re adults. It’s a bit more acceptable than when two, what, thirteen-year-olds do it. Look it sounds nice that El has someone she likes being around, but she and Mike are practically attached at the hip. And also add to the fact that they can’t stop sucking face, it’s gross. I’m gonna have to side with Hopper.”
Hopper points a hand at you, “thank you. You see, it’s not normal, it’s not healthy.”
“Well, you can’t just force them apart. I mean, they’re not little kids anymore, Hop. They’re teenagers.” Hopper walked his way over to Joyce, you following behind, “and (Y/n), you and Steve aren’t adults yet, the both of you are still teenagers as well.”
“Steve’s birthday is next month, he’ll be nineteen.” Thinking that’ll help your argument.
“Yeah, well, when he hits twenty-one and when you hit twenty-one, I’ll consider the both of you pre-adults. And when you hit twenty-five, that’s when you’re a full-fledged adult. Now, Hop,” her attention is done with you and back to Hopper who was throwing something into the air before catching it, “if you order them around like a cop, then they’re gonna rebel. It’s just what they do.”
You couldn’t argue with that.
“So what, I’m just supposed to let them do whatever they want?” Hopper flayed his arms out.
Joyce huffed, “no, I- I didn’t say that. I think you should… talk to them.” Pricing a box of Tampax.
“No. No. ‘Cause talking doesn’t work.”
“Not yelling. Not ordering. But talk to them. I do it with my kids, right, (Y/n)?”
Hopper turned towards you, waiting for any answer, “oh yeah. Little one-on-ones with each other. Heart-to-hearts, you know?”
Hopper’s eyes looked away from you for a moment like he was mulling over your words. “A heart-to-heart? What is that?” He fidgeted with his hat.
“Well,” Joyce jumped back in, “you sit them down and you talk to them like you’re their friend. I find if you talk to them like you’re on their level,” Hopper leaned against a beam, “then they start to listen. And then, you know, you could start to create some boundaries.”
“Boundaries,” Hopper whispered.
“Yeah, but, Hop, it’s really important that no matter how they respond, you stay calm. You cannot lose your temper.” You noted the eye roll followed by his fingers tapping along the pillar.
“Uh… maybe you could do it for me? Or (Y/n), even, she could do it. El likes you.” A glance your way before it was back on Joyce.
“No. And I say that for both of us. You need to do this on your own, Hop.” “Besides, I’d rather stay on the outside of this situation, it’s not our place. You’re her legal guardian, Hopper.” You added your input, but Hopper just waved you off and looked to Joyce.
“No, no, yeah. Yeah, you could. You come over after work.” He stomped towards her.
“No.”
“Yes.”
She shook her head, “no, it will only work if it comes from you. But…” She trailed off while walking to the counter, “maybe I can help you…” she grabbed a pad of paper and a pen, “I can help you find the right words.” She began to scribble words down with Hopper leaning in.
You watched the two of them, how Joyce was mouthing words to herself as she thought about them before writing them on the page. Noting that Hopper’s eyes glanced in her direction every few seconds before looking away like he didn’t want to get caught sneaking looks her way. It felt a bit wrong to observe them, but there was something that just piqued your interest.
Before you got carried away in your people-watching, a blur of motion was caught in your periphery making you jerk your head towards the store windows. And you saw Nancy rushing away before she disappeared from view.
“I know this is a difficult conversation to have… but I hope you know that I… care about you very much. And I know that you-”
“Eye contact.”
Hopper sighed at Joyce’s interruption. You just sat beside her with your arms crossed over your chest.
“And I know that you… both care about each other very much- this does not sound like me at all.”
“Well, you never know. As long as you don’t strangle Mike, it’s a win.” You tried to joke, but it wasn’t working.
Joyce threw a hand over your mouth, “just keep going. Come on.” She encouraged him with a smile.
Hopper took a breath, “which is why I think it’s important to establish these boundaries… moving forward…” he looked down at the lined paper.
“No looking. You know this. Come on.”
“...so we can build an environment… uh… where we… all feel comfortable and trusted and open… to share our feelings- this isn’t gonna work.” Hopper stood from his seat and walked to the empty side of Joyce, “um, it’s not gonna work. It’s not gonna work.” He kept repeating.
“Yes, it will! I promise.” “Just gotta put a bit more… emotion into it,” again, Hopper wasn’t enjoying your criticism.
“Maybe I’ll just kill Mike. I’m the chief of police, I could cover it up.”
“I’ll be your alibi.” You said in all seriousness. You saw the shake of Hopper’s shoulders, a quiet chuckle. 
“Come on. You got this.” Joyce clasped their hands together.
Again you watched as they held each other's gazes, neither one breaking or pulling their hands apart. You saw the tiny smile hidden by his thick mustache, you couldn’t see Joyce’s face, but you knew there was a similar expression gracing her face.
After a minute or two of the growing silence, Hopper broke it first, “you wanna have dinner tonight?”
And that was your cue to leave.
You jumped off the counter and made your way toward the entrance, “Uh, I gotta get going. Steve and Robin are probably missing my wonderful presence.”
Joyce broke her stare with Hopper, “Okay, honey. I’ll see you at home?”
“Yeah, if anything changes, I’ll call you. Bye Hopper.” He waved you off and you were out of the store and into the maroon BMW.
With the summer heat growing a bit more as the day went on, the mall was packed with dozens of people. Some just sit at the food court with a book in hand or a group of friends going from store to store with shopping backs held in their grasp as they chat away. Not a single one of them knew of the dangers that have slipped into Hawkins during the dead of night, the things you’ve seen and experienced. You wished you could live like them, oblivious and in peace.
In your spaced-out mind, you reached the brightly colored ice cream parlor in no time, brain lagging for a minute.
“-n). (Y/n), hello.” It sounded like you were underwater and whoever was calling to you was muffled by the waves.
The trance ended when the person shook your shoulder, head snapping in their direction with wide eyes.
“You okay?” Robin’s husky voice was a whisper.
You blinked a few times, “uh, yeah. Yeah, just- just tired, I guess.” You saw the look in Robin’s eyes, she didn’t believe you, “good shift?” You tried to change the subject.
She hesitated before responding, “busy as usual. Along with your boy toy not being able to stop crying for you.” A playful roll of her eyes.
You grinned at that, “Speaking of my ‘boy toy’, where is he?”
“Disappeared somewhere like ten minutes ago,” she shrugged.
You questioned it, but didn’t voice it, “wanna get lunch with us when you’re done? You wanted a ride home anyway.”
“I guess, but all hands within eyesight and no kissing… I’ll allow one cheek kiss. But after that, I’ll throw myself down the escalator if I’m forced to witness your sickening love.”
“Oh, that’s such a nice sacrifice on your part, Robin.” Stretching the sarcastic tone.
Again, she rolled her eyes and turned her back on you before pushing the backroom doors open. You followed a step behind and sat across from her, her legs stretched over the small square table. You swatted at her beat-up converses, “can you get your dirty feet off the table? We eat here.”
“And we also clean it, so it should matter.”
“Not all of us clean it…” you trailed off.
Robin just rolled her eyes at the comment. The two of you chatted a bit, bits of gossip Robin heard from passing customers, what you did while away from work and you made a light mention of the Mike dilemma with Hopper. A joke was thrown in here and there causing the both of you to release loud chuckles that presumably drifted into the dining area.
Your chuckles died off when you heard the hinges of the doors squeak followed by hands resting on your shoulders. You leaned your head back, your round dome mushing into starchy fabric, but you had a lovely sight before you.
“Hi, Stevie,” a beaming smile erupted.
“Hi baby,” he leaned down and kissed your forehead, “I’ve missed you.”
“Hmm, Robin told me you were, and I quote ‘crying for my presence’. Thought you could handle a few hours away from my quiet self.” A tilt of your head finished your sentence.
Steve scoffed and rolled his eyes, “I always want to be around you. Like… you’re like air. I need you every second to live or I’ll die.” His thumbs swiped along your jawline.
You peered at him with wide eyes with your mouth agape, startled by this sudden admission. You wanted to make a joke, something to break the silence, but you knew if you joked when Steve just said those, it would leave cracks in his heart. So the most you could do at the moment was beam him a smile and twine your hands together.
“Ugh, I’m gonna barf.” Robin broke the lovely spell.
You bit your lip to stop the childish smile that wanted to follow her comment. Steve huffed and moved to the seat that was in the middle of yours and Robins. He ran a hand through his hair before moving it to his cheek and leaning into his palm with his eyes zeroed in on you.
“What?” You asked after a beat of silence.
You couldn’t see the smile, but you saw his cheeks move, “you’re just really pretty.”
“Well I think you’re pretty, without a doubt,” you tried to argue back, not being able to handle compliments thrown your way.
Steve shook his head, strands of chestnut hair touching his forehead, “nope. Nobody comes close to the beauty you radiate.”
You fidgeted with your hands before covering your face, not being able to handle the sweet honey dripping from Steve’s lips or the loving gaze that was staring down into your soul.
“Guys, what have I said? No PDA! For the love of my sanity, please.” Robin’s voice cracked at the end.
“We aren’t doing any PDA, Buckley. I’m just making sure my girl knows how loved and gorgeous she is.” Steve shrugged like it was nothing.
“Yeah, well it feels like I’m being forced to watch the two of you kiss. It’s so- ugh!” She threw her head back before smacking a hand into Steve’s bicep, “stop eye fucking her! I’m right here! Save that for private time, please.” Her hands clasped together, really begging for a reprieve from the two of you.
“Guess you don’t want a ride home then,” Steve spoke as he stood from his seat.
“Honestly if this keeps up, I’ll for sure just take the bus home.” She grumbled.
You couldn’t help but chuckle at their friendly banter, the two of them firing at each other just as the other shoots back. You can’t help but think that these two people somehow became friends on their own, with very little push coming from your end. It made you happy, one of your best friends and your boyfriend getting along well with or without you around.
“Okay, okay. Let’s put the claws away and let's get food because I am starving.” You mediated the situation from going any further.
“Yeah, whatever. Harrington’s paying for me,” Robin walked away to grab her backpack. Steve was opening and closing his mouth like a fish.
You just held your hands up, “you were eye fucking me earlier, this would make up for it.” A stupid reason, but you knew Steve would give in either way.
And with a simple roll of his stunning brown eyes, you knew he caved. And pretty quickly, might be a new record.
“You’re very lucky that I would do anything for you.”
“And that includes buying Robin’s lunch. Like the good friend, you are to her.” A quick tap to Steve’s chest.
When Robin came back the both of you left Steve behind and walked out of the store with your faces close together as you gossip around the fast-paced bystanders. And if one of those topics involved Steve… he didn’t need to know any of the tiny details.
...
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yesimwriting · 2 years
Text
Movie Club
UPDATE: Chapter Two  
A/N this is my stranger things era!! 
Pairing: Steve Harrington x reader
Summary: There’s just something about the girl that comes into the video rental store every Wednesday evening. Too bad that ‘something’ makes all of that ‘be yourself’ game he has fly out the window until Robin gives him the push he needs. 
Warnings: canon level mentions of violence/eeriness, minor season 4 episode 1 spoilers, (maybe bleeds into episode 2 a little if you squint), mentions of death, fem!reader
----
Narrator’s POV 
The bell attached to the door that customers walk in and out of rings. Steve’s posture instinctually straightens as his head sharply turns in that direction. His job at Hawkins’ Family Video store isn’t one that demands this much attention, especially on a Wednesday afternoon, but this is the one time of week he knows he’s going to see her. 
Wednesday at a little after 5:00, depending on the time that cheer practice ends. She always walks in, the skirt of her uniform swaying as she flashes an even smile towards the counter. Some Wednesdays she approaches the front of the store before even browsing, grinning ear to ear with some story to tell Steve. These are the weeks that make every instinct he has melt out of his body. Then there are the Wednesdays in which she wanders the aisles, waiting for Steve to play the role of star employee, ready to help a customer find the perfect film. Those weeks steal the suave from his body, all coherent thoughts disappearing the moment they’re enclosed between aisles of VHS tapes. 
Okay...maybe it’s not about what happens on Wednesdays. Maybe it’s just her. Who is he kidding? Of course it’s her. He knows it, Robin knows it (and won’t let him forget it)...and of course, even Dustin’s managed to figure it out. Steve can still remember the Wednesday Dustin decided to stop by Family Video and how Robin took all of two seconds to explain why Steve was so jumpy. 
“It’s not her,” Robin hums, “Still too early.”
Steve sighs, forcing his eyes to drop to the floor. “I don’t--” 
“Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.” Robin turns away from the stack of new videos she’s supposed to be organizing. “She comes in every Wednesday around 5:00, and until you see her you’re a jumpy mess. Then you turn into an even worse mess.” 
He’s defeated. There’s no way to pretend that he isn’t overly aware of the time. “We’re friends,” he admits, “I like catching up with her.” 
“You mean you like when she comes in here, catches you up on everything in her life, and you stand there, like an idiot, either trying to string together a coherent sentence or figure out how to stop talking.”
Steve frowns. There’s not a good way to defend himself from the truth. “It is not like--”
“Come on, Steve, we’ve been here before.” Robin crosses her arms against her chest. “What happened to that ‘be yourself’, multiple dates a week attitude? What happened to wanting to find someone you actually felt something for?” She’s right, like always. Steve can’t quite react. “What--you finally figure out what you want and all of that goes out the window?” 
“It’s not like that.” 
“Then what is it like, Harrington?” She raises an eyebrow, angling her head to the side in a way that reminds him a little too much of their Scoops Ahoy days.
He takes a deep breath, wishing there was a clock in front of him. What time is it? There’s a good chance she’ll walk in while they’re still talking about it. “It’s just...” Steve pauses, struggling to find the words, “It’s complicated, okay?” 
“Complicated?” Robin repeats, over pronouncing each syllable. “Being a girl that wants to ask out another girl is complicated. Being a guy that likes a girl who is always flirting with him is not. It is the exact opposite of complicated.” 
Steve blinks. “You think she’s flirting with me?” 
Robin groans, rolling her eyes. “For the hundredth time, yes! No cheerleader wants to spend this much of her senior year watching movies, and no girl with her grades has that much time to spare.”
“That’s exactly why it’s complicated,” Steve blurts out. “Her GPA’s basically perfect and she’s a part of so many extra curriculars, I don’t even know how she has time to have a conversation with me. There’s no way she she won’t go to some fancy school that’s hundreds of miles away.” 
Steve expects some kind of pity to soften Robin, but her stare never wavers. “Wow...now that is complicated, it’s not like there’s still a month until the school year ends and then an entire summer for you two to establish a real relationship that would have to end the second she goes to college because no one ever invented something called a phone.” Robin draws her eyebrows together in mock thought. “And it’s not like she’d ever come back to Hawkins to at the very least visit her family, and friends, and maybe even the loser that works at Family Video that won’t just ask her out already.” 
Robin won’t let this go until Steve admits the one thing he’s always fighting to not think about. “She comes in every Wednesday, and returns the video every morning on her way to school. That means she watches them on Wednesday nights--not Fridays, Saturdays, or even Sundays. Wednesday night is her movie night.” 
“I think we’ve established that.” 
Steve presses his lips together, something in his stomach twisting. He has only one argument left, but something about using it doesn’t feel right. Opening his mouth feels like preparing to lose a molar. “The only kind of people that have regular, without fail, standing, middle of the week movie nights are people in relationships.” He takes a deep breath. “There’s no way someone like her doesn’t already have a boyfriend, anyway. So just--just forget it, okay? We have our Wednesday routine, and it’s--”
“Better than nothing?” Robin finishes, a tinge of sympathy finally coloring her attitude. Steve stays silent, part of him wishing he would have just put. up with some teasing. “Steve, I don’t know if she has a boyfriend, and I don’t know if other guys like her.” Robin blinks, reconsidering her words. “Actually--I know other guys like her, but either way, that doesn’t matter. The way she looks at you, the way she talks to you--she likes you.” 
With his back against the counter, Steve pauses, trying not to consider Robin’s words. Is she right? Could there be more to their weekly banter as he pretends to not know where the newest videos are? He opens his mouth, still unsure on what to say. 
“Y/n.” Robin breaks eye contact. She’s staring at something past Steve’s shoulder. He must have been so lost in thought he didn’t hear the bell. 
Steve attempts to turn smoothly, but the way he twists is awkward. He sticks out his arm to stop himself from falling. Y/n is staring at Robin, a little confused as to why Robin just shouted out her name. 
“Y/n,” Robin continues, “You--you’re um-a little early.”
Y/n draws her eyebrows together, a little confused by Robin’s energy. It’s not like the two have never interacted, but that much enthusiasm over her appearance isn’t adding up. “Yeah, the freshmen cheerleaders caught onto the routine way faster than usual, so coach let us out little early. I think she’s going easy on us because...well, you know.” 
Something dark clouds her face and Steve instantly feels something twist in his stomach. Y/n is talking about Chrissy. Right now, Hawkins is grappling for answers, and Steve knows more than most. He knows that the police’s prime suspect is just as confused as the rest of them and all he did was witness it. Guilt roots itself in his chest and he’s not sure why. Even if he could tell Y/n what he knows, it wouldn’t help. It would force her into a world of danger and bring more questions than answer. 
“You two were friends, right?” Steve manages, voice low. “You mentioned her in a couple stories.” 
Y/n nods once absentmindedly. “Yeah, and I just--I keep replaying our last conversation. I was going to have some people over, and when I asked Chrissy she turned me down even though I told her I’d invite that guy she’s been trying to set me up with for weeks.” 
His mind shouldn’t go where it does, but Steve can’t help it. A boy--another boy that Y/n invited into what was clearly a party but she’s pretending it wasn’t. Did she still invite him after Chrissy said no? And Chrissy said no--that has to be weird, right? That’s something that he should tell Dustin. Robin elbows him from beneath the check out counter, making him realize another point he shouldn’t have dismissed so quickly. If her friend has been trying to set Y/n up for weeks, that not only means that she doesn’t have a boyfriend, it means that she doesn’t want one. Or, at least, she doesn’t want whatever high school superstar Chrissy was trying to set her up with. 
It’s no secret that Steve’s done the popular in high school thing. Even if someone doesn’t feel like they have time for a relationship, they date. No one doesn’t date for no reason. Does she like someone? 
“Something was wrong, and I just keep thinking that if I had pressed a little more, maybe Chrissy would have told me, and--”
“You can’t blame yourself for something like that.” He wishes there was a way he could tell her how much it’s not her fault. Chrissy wasn’t a victim in the way that Y/n thinks. “Bad things have been happening in Hawkins for awhile.” 
Y/n nods again, unconvinced. “Yeah.” Her hands move forward, smoothing the skirt of her uniform. “I’m going to try to find a copy of Pretty in Pink.” There’s something stiff about Y’n’s dismissal. “It feels weird to be watching a movie, but my sister has been begging to see it since it came out.” 
Without another word, Y/n turns down the romantic comedy section. As soon as she’s no long visible, Robin lets her eyes go wide. 
“Her sister,” Robin whispers, “Her movie nights are with her sister, she doesn’t have a boyfriend, and she’s been turning down guys for weeks.” 
Steve’s stomach has never somersaulted this much in his life. He tries to swallow but his mouth has gone try. “She’s--” 
Robin reaches over to the pile of long forgotten returned movies. She holds up the tape she was looking for. Pretty in Pink. “Go,” she waves him over, handing him the VHS.
Okay...now or never, right? 
----
Y/n’s POV 
Am I in the mood to watch a romantic comedy? It doesn’t matter. Nothing about what I want to do feels like it matters. Everything makes me feel guilty. Each class I take, each game I go to, is something that Chrissy didn’t get to do. Everything I do is something she’s never going to get to do. 
Not only did she die, she experienced something brutal. In fifth period, her boyfriend told me the police officers didn’t even let her parents see Chrissy’s face. Who could have done something that terrible to her? That freak Eddie in that Hellfire cult, is what Chrissy’s boyfriend said. 
I’m not sure I believe him. Sure, he’s been held back for as long as I can remember and whatever his friend group does makes like no sense to me, but being a little weird doesn’t make someone a murderer. Besides, my physics teacher assigned him as my lab partner. I’ve talked to him. He’s eccentric, a little loud, and in no way a friend of mine, but he’s not like those guys on the news. I really doubt he’s some kind of beginner Ted Bundy, and until there’s actual evidence, I don’t think I should be scared of him. I’m not going to go out of my way to wave at him in the halls, but I’m not hoping for his arrest either. 
I just want answers...and to find this movie so that I can get home. It feels weird to do something so mundane, but my sister knew Chrissy, and she’s freaked out. The last thing she needs is a stray from routine, especially since I worked so hard to make sure we spend some time together my senior year. That’s a good excuse, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit a part of my adamance is the excuse to regularly see the guy that always has the Wednesday afternoon shift. 
That weird fluttering feeling in my stomach that I feel whenever I see Steve Harrington is the one part of me that hasn’t changed throughout high school. None of my current friends ever acknowledge this, but the start of high school was nowhere near as easy as the end of it. I may be a cheerleading co-captain that’s definitely going to be nominated from prom queen now, but freshman year me used to spend free period making friends with the librarians. I’ve changed so much, and yet I can’t let go of Steve Harrington. 
It’s ridiculous. Sure, he’s nice to me now, but it’s because I run into him at work. I also don’t doubt the fact that 17-year-old me is a lot less of an awkward weirdo than I was when we were in the same chemistry class. Ugh...I shouldn’t even be thinking about this. Chrissy’s dead and my sister is waiting for me at home. 
I take my time scanning the movies in the romance aisle, a part of me hoping that Steve might come over here. He’s normally always coming up to me in order to either help me find movies or recommend something. It’s just a part of his job, but I can’t help the way the extra opportunity to talk to him makes me feel.
My eyes are still looking over film titles on the third shelf when I feel it again. Cold sweat against my neck and the palms of my hands. My stomach is a rock. Not again, not here. I take a deep breath, trying to read the titles in front of me but everything’s blurred. I blink and blink, but nothing clears up. The colors swirl together, and I’m no longer looking at movies. The pictures aren’t titles, they're depicting horror. Monsters with sharp teeth, bloody bodies, and broken people. 
Has the lighting in here always been like this? So flushed and blue tinted and haunting--
Okay, breathe. Just br-- 
“Y/n...” The voice that whispers my name is gruff yet attempting to be soft. My skin crawls. “Y/n.” It’s coming from the other aisle. Something shifts. A shadowy image is peaking around the corner of the aisle. It’s tall and skewed the way a broken bone is. “Y/n.” It takes another step towards me. 
My hand rests on a shelf, my knuckles turning white due to my grip. One more step and it will round a corner. I squeeze my eyes shut with all I have. 
Something makes contact with my shoulder. My body turns, almost slamming into the shelf my hand was on. Forcing my eyes to focus, I see Steve. He’s withdrawn his hand, letting it linger in the air between us like his silent concern. I take a deep breath, the air settling in me like it’s supposed to. 
Oh--I can breathe again. I blink twice. The lights no longer seem cold and the movie titles are once again just that. I turn my head as casually as I can manage. There is no longer a shadow peering around the corner. 
I’m losing it, and I’m losing it in front of Steve. Chrissy’s death was a tragedy, but I don’t think grief makes people hallucinate things like that. What the hell am I seeing? 
“Uh--Steve.” My words are more to myself than to him. Everything is normal and I don’t believe it. “Sorry, I’m jumpy today.” I scratch the back of my arm. “The whole Chrissy thing has messed with my head a little.” His eyes are soft, sympathetic. Great--a whole school year’s worth of process washed away. He’s thinks I’m crazy. There has to be a way to save this. “You should have seen me in English today after Tammy Thompson dropped a pencil that rolled under my desk.” The awkward laugh that follows my rambles might haunt me more than my hallucination. 
Steve almost smiles. “This kind of stuff can mess with anyone’s head.” He lifts his other hand. “You said you were looking for Pretty in Pink, and our last copy was up front.” 
Okay--everything is normal. He’s just doing his job. I don’t know what that makes me deflate a little. “Oh--thank you. My sister’s gonna love this.” 
He nods, tapping his fingers against the side of the tape. “No problem.” 
Steve turns, giving me some space to walk next to him. I’m glad for the excuse to get out of this aisle. I’d rather talk to him by the check out counter where nothing bad has happened to me.The farther I get from that corner, the safer I’ll feel. 
Our hands dangle at our sides. It would take nothing for our fingers to touch. Steve walks away from me, letting the likely one-sided tension disappear as he settles behind the counter. 
“I think it’s nice that you watch movies with your sister.” 
My nails tap against the counter. “Yeah, she just started her freshman year and I’m graduating. I wanted to make sure we spent some time together this year. It’s been nice, but sometimes I miss being able to watch more action-y stuff. I used to be really into scary movies but now none of my friends want to watch them with me.” 
"I can imagine why.” 
He’s trying to make a joke, but what happened earlier hasn’t left my mind yet. I try to laugh it off with my reply. “I can’t blame my friends, I did always end up all over them.”
“Hey, Steve,” Robin says, “We’re going to need to reorganize the new releases before Friday because that’s when we’re supposed to get that new Poltergeist movie.” 
Steve doesn’t even look towards the tapes that Robin is sorting through. “We just need to move the oldest from the new release section to--”
“The new Poltergeist movie is coming this Friday,” Robin repeats, words a little more emphasized than before, “A lot of people are going to want to watch it, so I think it’s important that we schedule a time to make it easier for people to find it.” 
Steve finally turns his head towards her. “Oh.Yeah, I’ll check the display after I finish up here.” 
“You know, I never even saw the first Poltergeist.” 
There is no way. “You work at Family Video and you’ve never seen Poltergeist?”
My surprise must be as obvious as it feels because he pauses. “I just never got around to it.” 
“’Never got around to it,’” I practically gasp, “That movie broke box office records when it first came out. I am seriously doubting every recommendation you’ve ever made to me.” 
“I have a good taste!” 
“Debatable.” 
He raises an eyebrow, “Well, if it’s such a big deal, maybe you should watch with me.” I freeze more sharply than I mean to. Did he just ask me to do something? Like actually do something? “So that you can have proof that I watched it and my recommendation credibility can be restored.”
“Y-yeah.” Really--something that I’ve wanted for four years just happened and my reaction was the word ‘yeah’. “I’d feel a lot better taking your movie recommendations knowing that you’ve at least seen Poltergeist.” 
The corner of Steve’s mouth turns upwards. “How’s Friday? My shift ends at 6:00 and I can put aside a copy of the sequel. Technically, not supposed to reserve merchandise, but I think I can get away with it.”  
Two movies?! Okay--act calm. It’s not like I haven’t been asked out before, and I don’t even think this is a date. “You’ve got a bit of bad boy streak, Steve Harrington.” 
Since when am I this awkward? Steve leans against the counter. “I won’t tell if you don’t.” 
Calm. Act calm. He scans Pretty in Pink and hands it over. “Deal.” 
----
Narrator’s POV 
Y/n walks out the door with her weekly movie like she has every week, but something’s different. 
Steve Harrington has plans with Y/n L/n. Steve Harrington has what could easily be considered a date with the girl he’s spent months pining over. 
Robin and Steve turn to face each other after Y/n steps out of the store. The two high five. 
“I did it!” 
“More like I did it.” 
----
first time writing for Stranger Things!! This took longer than I thought, and I still have enough ideas to make a part 2,, so if you enjoyed this, let me know!
1K notes · View notes
eddiemunsons80sbaby · 6 months
Text
Everybody Hurts
Chapter 5
Pairing: EddieMunsonxReader
Summary: You needed to escape, escape from your life, your messy divorce, and all the pitying looks. Looks you couldn't ignore when everyone in town had known you and Cam, had known your shame and failure. So, you took the first job you could get, teaching third grade in a town called Hawkins. Little did you know, you were walking right into another messy situation, a messy situation with big brown eyes and long dark waves. But he's resistant, at times unbearable and you start getting curious about the town's past, his past, especially when things don't start adding up.
18+ Only for eventual smut
Next chapter: 09/27
Word Count: 5.8K
Masterlist
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You had not had time for a full shower with the two girls waiting on you so you’d simply freshened up a bit. You washed your hands and face, reapplied your deodorant, added some blush and mascara, brushed out your hair, and changed clothes. Your favorite gray cardigan covered your arms over an olive green ribbed tank. Bending forward, you cuffed up the bottom of your jeans and then pulled on your Converse before bouncing back down the steps and onto the porch where Robin and Nancy sat waiting, just like they said they would.
“Damn, that was fast,” Robin commented, looking you over. “You clean up nice Prom Queen.”
“Ugh, not you too,” you grumbled, grabbing your purse and keys from the hook by the door, locking the door behind you and following the two girls to Nancy’s car. “You know, I am not a fan of that nickname. I have not been  a Prom Queen in almost thirteen years and believe it or not, that is not some great accomplishment in my life. I only got it because I was dating the most popular guy in school.”
“Sorry, it’s just so weird for me,” Robin explained, sliding into the passenger seat as you hopped into the back. “A girl like me hanging out with a former Prom Queen goes against the most basic laws of nature. I was different and one of the most awkward people ever. We never would have been friends in high school.”
“That’s not true,” you argued as Nancy turned the corner and pulled up in front of her house. She hadn’t been kidding. They were right around the corner. You would be able to walk home and not have to bother anyone for a ride. You really needed to look into a car this week so you wouldn’t need to bum rides off your new friends as you shopped for supplies to get your house together. “I wasn’t a mean girl and it’s all just stupid titles anyway. What does any of that matter in the scheme of things? Being Prom Queen never did me any good in life. Look at me. Thirty, divorced, starting over in a whole new town in a whole new job. All that high school bullshit and status doesn’t actually mean anything in the long run.”
“Maybe not now,” Robin sang, stepping out and closing the car door behind her with a dramatic flourish, “but it mattered a hell of a lot then. I was a band geek. Steve Harrington was definitely not my friend in high school. We didn’t become friends until after he graduated. There was no way we would have been friends then. Hell, he didn’t even know who I was. When we got taken by…Scoops Ahoy. I mean, when they hired us for a job, I asked him about a class we had together and he could not remember me even being in that class.”
“But you’re friends with Nancy and, come on,” you huffed, gesturing to her, Robin’s little slip not lost on you. Taken by? Who referred to getting hired as being taken by a place of employment? “You can’t tell me you weren’t one of the popular crowd.”
“Me?” Nancy snorted, shaking her head. “Not even close. I was kind of a nerd myself. I was on the school paper and the debate team. I was very studious. I didn’t really party. That’s why it was so shocking when the King of Hawkins High actually wanted to date me. And Robin and I didn’t become friends until she started working with Steve. She was two years behind him in school and a year behind me. I didn’t even know who she was, honestly.”
Robin shrugged, “It’s true. Oh, I knew who she was, though. Everyone knew who Nancy Wheeler was once Steve Harrington pulled her into his little crowd of the rich and the popular. She became famous by association.”
“Shut up,” Nancy huffed, rolling her eyes as she pushed open the front door. 
“Steve’s rich?” you asked, not caring but not having gotten that vibe off him at all. And who became a cop in a small town if they had money already? You’d never had the impression that cops made much more money than teachers, and you knew what you made and it wasn’t exactly impressive. 
“Why Prom Queen? You looking for a sugar daddy? I’d offer but fixing cars ain’t paying much. I couldn’t keep you in the lap of luxury you’re obviously so used to.”
Your annoyance was instant and intense at the sound of that voice and the words that it uttered. You’d been having such a nice Sunday and now you were forced to be in his presence. Why hadn’t you figured he would be here? Nancy had said Jonathan’s friends were coming over and of course it included him. You stood there, rigid, trying to shake off the unwanted anger and frustration at him merely having the nerve to exist, to breathe the same air as you, sitting on that loveseat, smugly smiling, his eyes focused on you and dancing with amusement as he lifted a beer bottle to his lips. 
“Oh, really? That’s too bad. With that glowing personality and unrivaled charisma, I was so hoping for an offer from you,” you sneered sarcastically. “Honestly, I’d rather throw myself off a damn cliff. Shattering every bone in my body sounds far more pleasant.”
“Damn,” Jonathan muttered with a chuckle, “breaking her bones over going out with you? That’s harsh. I mean, ouch. What the hell did you do to her when you drove her home last night?”
“Not a goddamn thing. Whatever. Like I’d even be interested in Little Miss Perfect over there. She wishes,” Eddie snorted, rolling his eyes and sinking back into the cushions, one arm casually draped over the arm of the couch, silver rings catching the lamplight. “Would someone like to tell me why she’s even here?”
Your eyes slipped closed for a moment, a soft inhale pulled through your nose in an attempt to calm down. It wouldn’t do you any good with your new friends if you punched him in the face. He might be a jerk but he was their friend and you were pretty certain clocking him, whether he deserved it or not, would get you a lifetime ban from the others. Your fist clenched and unclenched at your side, attempting to relieve the tense energy that arose at his acting like you were an unwanted intruder once again. 
“Because last I checked this is my house and I invited her,” Nancy shot back at him, hands on her hips. “If you don’t like who I invite over, you are welcome to leave. You know where the door is.”
“So that’s how it is?” Eddie challenged, pressing his lips together with a slow nod. “You’d throw me out, the guy you’ve been friends with for years, the guy you’ve bled with, the guy who almost d…” He stopped himself, glaring over at you as if you’d been the reason he’d said something he obviously wished he hadn’t. “You’d do that to keep some girl you just met last night here?”
Bled with? Almost died? Your ears perked up. This group kept dropping little snippets, pieces of info that would slip through the cracks, particularly when one of them was emotional. Did this all have to do with the mall fire or was this about the supposed raccoons again? You’d been wondering if the raccoons had come into contact with those toxic chemicals that Nancy’s friend had. Could that be why they attacked him?
You vibrated with the need for answers but you sure as hell weren’t going to ask Eddie for them. And you definitely weren't asking anybody else with him sitting right there. He’d probably just call you nosy, tell you it was none of your business because you didn’t even belong here. And really, he’d be right, wouldn’t he? It wasn’t any of your business what had happened years ago before you’d even met any of them but you could not seem to quell her curiosity.
“Nobody is throwing anybody anyway,” Nancy sighed, looking so like a mom in that moment that you had to bite back a laugh. “Stop being dramatic. I didn’t tell you to leave. I said if you did not like the current company, then you are welcome to leave if you wanted to. No one is keeping you here. I am more than happy to have everyone stay but if you’re staying, then you’re going to be nice and stop being such a dick to my friend.”
Steve, who had been fairly silent through this whole exchange, rose up from his spot on the floor, “Besides, you two are actually arguing over nothing because, to answer your question, I’m not even rich. My parents are the ones who are rich.”
“Oh, I really wasn’t trying to say anything about your money situation,” you clarified quickly, embarrassed. Did they all think that? That you would suddenly be interested in him if he had money? Because nothing could be further from the truth. “I really don’t…I mean it doesn’t…” You stammered, your cheeks heating up. 
“Uh-oh Harrington, you’ve made our Prom Queen blush,” Eddie guffawed. “You might have a shot but I wouldn’t bother. I highly doubt you’ll meet her standards anymore. You’re not the big man on campus you used to be even with your gun and badge. Once she realizes how little money you actually make, she’ll be looking for someone better. Hey, is your dad still fucking anything in a skirt?”
“Jesus Christ, Eddie. Seriously? Why do you have to be such a dick?” huffed Steve, his hand rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. 
“I’m doing nothing but stating the obvious, man,” Eddie stated. “It’s common knowledge about your dad. I didn’t say anything we all don’t already know. And I mean, look at her. She ain’t looking at either of us. That would be climbing down into the gutter and Ms. Priss over there is far too good to roll in the muck with us blue collars. Maybe at one time you would have struck her fancy Stevie, but you’re a small town cop with an itty bitty paycheck now. Prom Queen needs more than that to be happy. Trust me. I guarantee you her ex made big money and now that she’s lost access to his bank account she needs a new man to take care of her and buy her all those pretty things she’s so used to having. She’s just like all those college girls that walked into Scoops Ahoy, took one look at you in your little sailor outfit, and decided you weren’t good enough.”
“You know what, fuck you!” you yelled, having enough. He wanted to push your buttons and see if he could make you blow. Fine. Mission successful. “You’re such a miserable bastard. You hate me and you don’t even know me. You just assumed the worst about me from the moment you saw me for whatever reason and I am done putting up with your shit.” You glanced over at Nancy. “Thank you for the invite and thank you so much for all your help today but I…I’m just going to go home. I’ll talk to you…whenever.”
“No. Come on. You don’t have to leave because of him,” Nancy insisted. “We can head out back and leave these guys.”
“No, it’s fine, really. I have work tomorrow and I should just go home. I have lesson plans that I still need to finish and I should try to get some sleep anyway. I didn’t sleep well last night and there’s nothing worse than trying to keep a bunch of eight year olds in line when you’re cranky and tired,” you muttered. “I’ll call you sometime later this week, okay?”
“Roller skating Thursday!” Robin yelled out as you stormed out the door, giving her no acknowledgement besides a single wave. 
You had no intention of going roller skating or calling Nancy. You’d been overjoyed to find a group of people that you might be able to call friends, a group of people you could spend time with. But you couldn’t deal with him. And being friends with them meant you would have to. The easiest thing to do would be to just walk away from all of them. There was no way you could get along with that asshole and he was never going to let up. 
It made no sense. How could someone who didn’t even know you hate you so much? What made him think that you were so awful? Was it your hair? Your clothes? No, you didn’t dress like some metalhead but neither did any of his friends. Could that really be his problem? Maybe it was just you. Did you have some kind of off-putting energy you weren't even aware of? You didn’t even know why you cared that much and the fact that you cared that much only made you even more infuriated, your skin humming with anger. 
And what was with all his assumptions about you? What about you screamed that you were some stuck up bitch who would marry a guy for how much cash he had in his pocket? Yeah, Cam had come from a well-off family and he’d made good money as a real estate agent but that had not been why you’d married him. You’d married him because you thought you loved him, you’d thought he loved you, you’d thought you were going to live happily ever after. 
“Hey, Prom Queen!” came a voice from behind you and you groaned, picking up your pace, desperate to get away from him. “Hey! Son of a bitch! Wait up woman!” 
Boots thudded loudly along the sidewalk as he began to jog behind you. You considered breaking into a run but realized that would only make you look insane, giving him even more ammunition to lob at you. He wasn’t the bogeyman. You weren't scared of him. You were just sick and tired of his shitty attitude and all his snide comments. You continued walking, listening with dread as the boots drew ever closer, just wanting to make it to your house where you could close the door on him, keeping him and all his vitriol out. 
“Jesus Christ,” Eddie gasped as he slowed up next to you. “Didn’t you hear me?”
“Yeah, I did. I just have zero interest in listening to you,” you snapped, continuing to walk in the direction of your house, hoping he would get the point and turn around and leave you the hell alone. 
Why had he even bothered to follow you? He clearly hadn’t wanted you there and you’d given him what he wanted. Now he could hang out with his friends in peace, not having to worry about the new face that he couldn’t stand the sight of.
“Look, I’ll stop saying shit, okay? I’ll shut up completely if you want me to. I won’t even talk to you at all. Just come back to the house with me. Jonathan just ordered the pizza. The girls are breaking out a bottle of wine. They really want you there.”
And there it was. The girls wanted you there. The girls had probably gone off on him for being such a dick. That was why he was chasing you down the sidewalk like a dog with its tail between its legs. He hadn’t wanted to come after you. He wasn’t really sorry for anything that he’d said. They’d forced him to.
“Oh yeah? Did they tell you off for being a jerk? Is that why you’re suddenly chasing me down the street? Because they told you to fix it?” you demanded, disappointment curdling within you at knowing this, knowing he hadn’t been the one to want to stop you.
“Yeah, there may have been some yelling after you walked out,” Eddie chuckled stiffly, his hand coming to the nape of his neck, rubbing. “Everyone’s a little pissed off at me. I believe the words asshole and dick may have been thrown around by a couple people but they’ll get over it. They always do. None of them can actually stay mad at me. So, what do you say? Just come back and hang with us.”
“No,” you stated simply, your hands gripping your cardigan and pulling it tighter, attempting to protect yourself from more than just the chill of the night air. 
His hand came around your bicep, gentle but firm, pulling you to a stop and Eddie stepped in front of you. Your eyes looked down at his hand and then up at his face, glaring at him for having the nerve to touch you. He released you, hands held in front of him as if he were assuring you he wasn’t dangerous, that he wouldn’t hurt you. You wanted to laugh but it really wasn’t all that funny. Yeah, you definitely worried about Eddie causing you pain but it wasn’t the physical kind. 
Those plush lips curved up in the corners, a soft smile gracing his face that felt like a punch to your diaphragm, all of your air supply gone in an instant. You couldn’t make sense of the emotions washing over you. It was like the world had turned completely upside-down and you were thrown into a whirlwind of feeling, both drawn to him and anxious to distance yourself from him. You felt like you were going to be torn in half, the two warring parts of yourself, one resistant, one wanting him. None of it made any sense. 
“Look…” He paused, teeth clenched, the muscle in his jaw twitching, letting you know that what he was about to say was a real struggle for him. “I’ve been a jerk to you and you’re right. I don’t even know you. It was a real dick move. I just…” One large hand ran over his face as he groaned. “I don’t have an excuse, okay? But you didn’t deserve it and I will stop. Will you please just come back to the house?”
You folded your arms, braced your feet in an attempt to keep yourself steady before you absolutely plunged into the pools that were his brown eyes, so soft and sincere at the moment, as warm as that cup of coffee you’d been gazing into this morning. You didn’t know what this was and you didn’t know if he was being as sincere as his face was making him out to be. He could simply be really good at acting. 
But you also still had that tingly little inkling again that something more was going on here, something deep, something dark, that united them all somehow. Something traumatic that you could catch in the shadows that crossed over their eyes, the way their brows furrowed, the way they chewed on their lips or pressed them into a hard line. Something was haunting these people, something bad from the past, and while you knew it was none of your business, you couldn’t help but be curious. Who wouldn’t be? What could be so big that it could involve so many people and affect them so deeply for so long? You had a burning desire to find out. It was your own mystery novel coming to life. It was too tempting to ignore.
“Fine. I will come back to the house,” you finally said, adding, “but I still don’t like you.”
Eddie laughed, the sound causing you to jump because it was a genuine laugh, a deep laugh that rumbled up from his belly. It was a laugh of amusement rather than smugness. It was warm and pleasant and you hated how much you enjoyed it, how much you wished to make him do it over and over again because it may have been the most pleasant sound that your ears had ever heard.
“No worries there, Prom Queen. I still don’t like you either but I will let up, okay?”
You realized in that moment how much you wanted this, wanted this group of friends, wanted to belong in this town. You needed it, your fresh start. So as much as you didn’t believe Eddie in the slightest, knowing he wouldn’t be able to keep his mouth shut for long. As much as you knew there was something about you he didn’t like, that he was only being barely nice right now because his friends forced him to, you followed him back to Nancy and Jonathan’s house, the two of you walking in silence, thankful it was a short walk, too short to get awkward. 
“She’s back!” Steve cheered as you walked in, throwing his arms up in the air before striding over to you, his arm coming around your shoulders. “Eddie said he’d bring you back but I was expecting him to come back alone with a black eye or something.”
“Don’t think the thought didn’t cross my mind,” you muttered, annoyed to find how pleased you were when your comment caused that laugh to rise up from Eddie again, a delicious rumbling sound that caressed your skin, flooded your belly with warmth. You caught his eyes, your insides going all mushy at the way they crinkled in the corners, a real smile on his face, changing his entire demeanor, allowing you to see the guy that Millie had described this morning.
“Pizza should be here any minute,” Jonathan told you as he walked out of the kitchen with paper plates and napkins, Nancy following him with cups and a two liter of Coke. 
As if on cue, the front door swung open so hard that it banged into the wall. “The pies have arrived brochachos!” came a loud voice a few moments later, Argyle standing with three pizza boxes balanced on one hand, the other on his hip, giving him the appearance of a superhero. 
“You deliver your own pizzas?” you asked, amused.
“Nah, not usually. Only for very special customers, you know?” He winked and dropped the boxes onto the dining room table. Placing them out, he lifted up the lid of each box, proudly displaying his work. “And this one is just for you, new girl. Have you ever experienced the pleasure of some juicy pineapple on your pie?”
“I have not but I have had multiple people already tell me how delicious it is,” you replied. “Millie at the bakery told me you insisted she try it and she really liked it.”
“Oh! Mills! I love that sweet old lady. Green peppers, mushrooms, and sausage every week for her and Roy. The amount of cookies I’ve eaten from that place. Nothing beats a sweet treat from Mills when you’re riding that high and the munchies hit, you know?”
You giggled, “I’ll have to keep that in mind.”
As everyone began to sit down, you took a seat in between Robin and Nancy. Eddie dropped down across from you. He immediately reached out for a piece of pizza, not even bothering with a plate, and you found yourself absolutely entranced by his hands, his fingers, the nails cut down short, those big, gaudy rings. You couldn’t tear your eyes away as he lifted the slice to his mouth, those full lips wrapped around the end, biting with his teeth, a string of cheese hanging from the side of his lip that you just wanted to use her tongue to... 
“Sam?”
You jumped, turning to find Nancy looking at you, a knowing and highly amused smile on her lips as she glanced from Eddie and then back to you. You felt that heat flush your cheeks once again, realizing you had been busted checking him out. Shit. You seriously needed to get this crush in check. What in the hell was wrong with you? He was just a guy, a guy who’d been nothing but harsh and rude to you. Why couldn’t you stop looking at him, fantasizing about him?
“Sorry. Daydreaming, I guess. I told you, I didn’t get a whole lot of sleep last night,” you replied, trying to play it off, knowing your attempt was awful and probably not at all believable. “What did you say?”
Nancy laughed lightly, those burgundy painted lips pursing with amusement, “You mentioned that you went to the Hawkins Library yesterday to get some books. I asked what books you got? What do you enjoy reading?”
“Oh, well I got a new Stephen King and ‘Along Came a Spider.’”
“Into the creeptastic, huh?” Eddie mused, taking a long drink of his Coke as he leaned back in his chair, spreading his legs wide. “Wouldn’t have seen that coming. I would have taken you for more of a romance novel kind of girl.” He paused at the look you gave him, setting down his cup and holding up a hand. “Not a dig. Just an observation.”
“An observation based on how I look?” you challenged, your eyes narrowing at him. You knew he wouldn’t be able to help himself. “Because a girl who was a good student, a Prom Queen, and dated a jock couldn’t possibly be into horror or thriller? Haven’t you learned by now not to judge a book by its cover because I am guessing that’s happened to you a lot with the whole metalhead, stoner theme you have going on.”
“What’s wrong with being a stoner?” Argyle whispered to Jonathan who just shrugged in response.
“Damn, she’s got you pegged, Munson,” Steve snorted. “Eddie was pretty much the freak weirdo all through high school because of how he looked. People were terrified of the scary guy who wore a battle vest and long hair. People still give him a pretty wide berth after he was…well, even though high school is over.”
“Thanks Harrington for that happy reminder,” Eddie hissed, teeth clenched tightly, muscle in his jaw ticking. You watched as he closed his eyes, rolled his neck. When they opened again, he looked much calmer. “Alright, that’s fair, I guess. Maybe I shouldn’t assume things just because of how you look. So, what else do you like to read then?”
“I read a bit of everything, actually,” you answered, pleasantly surprised at his sudden turn around. It was definitely a step in the right direction that he was asking questions about you, trying to get to know you, instead of assuming he already did. “I do enjoy a good romance novel on occasion but I’m kind of picky about them. I don’t like anything too corny or cheesy. I am much more into horror, thriller, and fantasy.”
“Fantasy, huh?” asked Eddie, one eyebrow lifting with interest. “What’s your favorite fantasy book?”
“Well, as a kid I loved the Narnia books. I also really love the Game of Thrones series. The Princess Bride is one of my favorites books and movies of all time. But I think my absolute favorite would have to be The Lord of the Rings series. I keep copies of them on my bookshelf because I go back and reread them all the time and escape back to Middle Earth when I need a break from reality. Which has been quite a lot lately. I actually just finished a re-read last month.”
Eddie’s head snapped back so hard, you were surprised to find it was still attached to his neck. He looked shocked but you didn’t know why. The Lord of the Rings was a very popular book series, clearly, given its popularity years after it had originally been written. It had been published multiple times since it first came out in the fifties. His eyes showed a spark of unexpected joy, his usual moody demeanor morphing into something that resembled him feeling excited. He opened his mouth to say something but Steve beat him to it. 
“Oh, the Princess Bride!” he exclaimed. “I love that movie!” He brandished a plastic fork in his hand like a sword. “I am Inigo Montoya…you killed my father…prepare to die…”
You laughed at his very sweet but absolutely horrible impression of Mandy Patinkin. You had to give him points for trying. Eddie’s fist clenched on top of the table, his eyes completely focused on his plate now, jaw tense once again. You waited for him to share whatever he was going to say before Steve interrupted him but he remained silent. His eyes dulled, that lively expression that had been there just a moment before fading away, as if he were shutting down, turning off all the switches, closing the door to any opportunity for further conversation. 
“Mawwage,” Robin called out loudly, spreading her arms wide to her congregation, “mawwage is what bwings us togeva today.”
“Have fun storming the castle!” Argyle exclaimed loudly.
You all rolled into a fit of giggles as you called out some of your favorite lines from the movie, everyone except Eddie. He rose from his seat, gathering everyone’s empty plates and made his way into the kitchen. Your eyes tracked him, fighting back the desire to follow him, to find out what had changed to make him surly again so quickly. But no, you were the last one who should be going to see what was wrong with him. He’d probably just snap something nasty your way anyway and you’d had more than enough of his hostility for one day.
“We should watch it!” Nancy yelled with a clap, jumping up from her chair. “We have the DVD.” She glanced over at you. “What do you say? I know it’s a school night but you’re right around the corner. It wouldn’t be too late.”
You shrugged, finding it hard to deny her, especially when you were so glad to be a part of this group, “Sure.”
You were going to regret this when you got home and had two hours of lesson planning still to do. This was what you got for putting it off until the last minute. But it just felt so damn good to be surrounded by people who wanted you around, to be anywhere but sitting in your silent home alone, that you decided a late night would be a small price to pay.
You all made your way into the living room while Jonathan grabbed the DVD and put it in. You noticed, and then cursed yourself for noticing, that Eddie was still gone. What was taking him so long and what in the hell had switched off his good mood so quickly? With him it felt like going from a warm day on the beach, the sun heating your skin to suddenly being in a frigid, desolate hellscape of ice and snow that made your very bones shake. How could someone shift so fast?
You took a spot on the couch and Steve sat down next to you, in the middle, Robin on his other side. Nancy and Jonathan curled up together on the loveseat as Argyle dropped down onto the floor. 
“I love this movie. I haven’t watched it in years,” Steve grinned at you, his arm coming to rest on the couch behind you. Not touching, just hovering but close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off his body.
Damn. You really hoped Steve was not attempting to pursue something. That was not a conversation you wanted to have. It wouldn’t do much for a budding friendship if you shot down one of them. But as sweet and adorable as Steve was, you just weren't ready. To be fair, you weren't ready to date anyone. You were just getting out of a failed marriage, recovering from heartbreak and the worst betrayal of your life. You weren't interested in any guy right now.
Just as the previews started playing, Eddie reappeared as if calling you out for the blatant lies you were telling yourself, reminding you that one guy was quite interesting. His eyes scanned the room, a flicker of anger flashing over his face as he looked right at you. Jesus. What in the hell had you possibly done now? You hadn’t even been near him. How had you offended him again?
“Hey, I’m gonna head out,” he announced to the room.
“What?” protested Steve. “Come on, man. Stay. We’re watching The Princess Bride.”
“My Dude!” Argyle exclaimed. “No. Come on. Watch the movie with us.”
“I’m good. I got an early morning and I need to get some sleep,” he told them and then his eyes bored into hers, dark, vexed. “Enjoy your movie.”
Eddie grabbed his jacket off the back of the dining room chair, a cigarette already in his lips as he went out the front door, leaving you to wonder what had happened in that short exchange about books to make him pissed at you again. Sighing softly, you sunk down into the couch, telling yourself that you were going to enjoy the movie and not let him ruin your night.
“Why does he hate me so much?” you asked softly, despising the dejected tone you could hear in your own voice.
“He hates everything these days,” Jonathan assured her. “Don’t let it get to you. He’ll come around. He’s just moody.”
“How do you all stand it?” you demanded, needing to understand how this group of people was friends with someone so miserable. “How do you hang out with him when he’s so grouchy all the time?”
“He’s not grouchy all the time,” Steve defended.
Argyle grinned, “Trust me, my dude is not grouchy at all when I get him the good stuff.”
Nancy’s eyes rolled in annoyance, “Yeah, because that’s what he needs. More shit to numb all his emotions. Just use drugs instead of actually dealing with your trauma. That’s healthy.”
“What trauma?” you pushed, hoping someone would finally tell you what in the hell was going on here. 
“It’s not really our place to share,” Robin said gently, shrugging. “I’m sorry but he’s our friend too and I don’t want to break his trust. Too many people in his life have already done that to him. I know he can be really unpleasant but he does have his reasons. He doesn’t know you yet and so he’s struggling. He hasn’t exactly been given a lot of reasons to trust people in the past, especially people he doesn’t know but he’ll come around.”
“He really will,” Nancy assured you and then lifted one shoulder. “And even if he doesn’t, the rest of us want you around.”
“Thanks,” you mumbled.
Steve’s arm came around you, his hand squeezing your shoulder comfortingly, “Yeah. Don’t worry about him. We’re all very happy you’re here.”
You sighed, knowing this should be enough. It should be enough that this amazing group of people wanted you around but it really wasn’t. It bothered you more than you cared to admit that Eddie seemed to have a deep hatred for you. 
Chapter 6
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steddiealltheway · 11 months
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Part Five of Not-So-Secret Secret Admirer!!!!! Part One. Part Four. AO3 Link. (This chapter is longer than usual and slightly choppy as I'm getting back into writing sorry guys)
Five days later and Eddie is unbearably nervous. All he can think about is Steve and the dumb admirer stuff. It’s the most random things that remind Eddie of him – a pair of sunglasses at the gas station that he knows he would love, a new pop album that Eddie would absolutely despise while Steve would put it on blast, and then Wayne gets a craving for ice cream that reminds Eddie of the infamous Scoops Ahoy outfit that no one can get Steve to dig out of his closet.   
Maybe if E.R. requests a picture of the outfit, then... no. He can’t have Steve and E.R. interacting any time soon. And how would he write that anyways? “Dear Steve,” Eddie mumbles under his breath on his drive to Family Video, “I happen to know that you used to work at Scoops Ahoy. I’ll reveal my identity in exchange for a picture of you in your work uniform.” Eddie shakes his head. At least he would have something to remember Steve by before he cuts him off forever after he finds out the truth.  
But he won’t find out the truth. Or he’ll move on before then and Eddie will be able to mention it to him as some big joke.  
The thought of Steve being with someone else nearly breaks Eddie’s heart, but it’s better than the thought of hurting Steve and losing him forever.  
He pulls into the parking lot of Family Video and parks his van letting out a deep breath before opening his door. It feels wrong to walk in empty-handed, but it’s for the best.  
The bell rings as he walks in and he immediately spots Robin at the counter looking horribly bored. A quick glance around and Eddie spots no customers or sign of Steve in the store. Robin perks up when Eddie makes eye contact with her and she opens her mouth with a deep breath, seemingly ready to yell to the back. Steve must be on his break.  
Eddie waves his hands and shakes his head. He puts a finger to his lips which makes Robin furrow her brow, but she closes her mouth. Eddie rushes forward and whispers, “Abort mission.”  
“Abort mission what?” Robin whispers back.  
Eddie waves his hands in frustration. “Mission E.R. or secret admirer or whatever you want to call it.”  
Robin's eyes widen slightly as she shakes her head. “No way!”  
Eddie loudly shushes her and both of them look towards the break room. When there’s no sign of movement, Robin continues this time whispering, “There’s no way you can back out now. Steve will be absolutely devastated.”  
“And imagine how much more he’ll be devastated when he realizes it was me the whole time.”  
Robin glances back towards the door and leans closer to Eddie lowering her voice to a point where Eddie is surprised he’s even able to comprehend what she’s saying. “What if I told you that he wouldn’t be disappointed?”  
Eddie pulls back and looks at her. He definitely heard that wrong.   
“I’m serious! Just, trust me on this one!” Robin whispers.  
Eddie shakes his head. There’s no way. “Did he tell you that he wouldn’t mind?” Eddie asks.  
Robin’s mouth opens and closes. “Not exactly but trust me!”  
“Robin, no. I can’t take that uncertainty and lose him forever. Just help me end this thing any way that’s possible. I can’t lie to him anymore,” Eddie backs up, hoping he can leave the conversation before Robin tries to give him false hope.  
“Why do you think we’re magically scheduled every five days? It’s not for this dumb admirer, it’s for you,” Robin states looking unbearably serious.   
Eddie shakes his head and makes his way to push open the door behind him when the door to the back room opens. He freezes as Steve walks out quickly, locks eyes with him, and breaks out into a smile. “I thought I heard your voice! Have something for me today?” Steve asks and walks past Robin to scale the counter.  
Robin shoots Eddie a look that says, see? But Eddie shakes his head. He’s here for whatever his admirer got him.  
Eddie holds up his hands and shows that they’re empty. “Nothing today, I was just leaving.”  
Something about the look in Steve’s eyes makes him not move an inch. It’s heartbreaking, and he wishes he could escape as Steve inches closer and asks, “Is everything okay? Did I... did I do something wrong or...?” He trails off as he searches Eddie’s face for an explanation.  
“I just couldn’t get in touch with them,” Eddie lies easily, regretting the false hope he’s giving Steve. But Steve doesn’t look relieved by the statement, just confused.  
“Well, are you staying at least?” Steve asks, a bit of hope back in his eyes.  
Eddie shakes his head trying to shake the false hope away, but he realizes he unintentionally answers Steve’s question. It’s for the best. He just needs some space from him.  
“Wait, I have something for you before you go,” Steve says and races to the back.   
When the door closes, Eddie looks back at Robin. “We have to end it.”  
“We?” Robin asks.  
“Eddie Robin. E.R. Our plan. Please, Robin.”  
Robin looks at him for a moment and then quickly nods. “I’ll let you know what I come up with as soon as I can.”   
The back door swings open and Steve emerges with a single red rose. Eddie walks to the counter slowly to meet Steve in the middle. He needs the barrier between them before he does something dumb like pull him into an embrace and confess the truth. His entire being just wants Steve in his arms again, but instead, he quickly accepts the rose and tries to ignore the feeling of his finger brushing against Steve’s.  
“Steve the Romantic,” Eddie comments with a tight smile. “I’ll make sure to give this to them,” Eddie says, knowing it’ll just be added to the notes he wishes were written to him instead of E.R..   
“Thank you, Eddie the Messenger,” Steve says with an equally tight smile but then he breaks into an actual smile. “Eddie the Messenger like Eddie Munson. EM.”  
Eddie can see the moment Steve starts to process what he just said. Before he can see Steve potentially come to the realization that the one name he hasn’t thought of that starts with an E is his own, Eddie is racing out the door and to his van. He takes a deep breath and turns his music up loud enough to overpower his thoughts. Maybe the guilt will consume him entirely before Steve can come to the full realization.  
-:-:-:-:-:-  
Eddie lays on his bed listening to a Dio album while absentmindedly playing chords on his guitar trying to come up with a way to end things. It’s been hours and he’s still got about nothing. The best solution is finding someone to pretend to be his admirer and absolutely being horrible on their date to the point that Steve puts the thoughts about E.R. completely in his past. But that’s more deceiving that Eddie doesn’t want to put Steve through.  
He hears a distant knocking on his trailer door and glances at the clock. Definitely not his uncle. Maybe it’s the kids coming to complain about something. He hangs his sweetheart back on the wall and pauses his tape. He catches sight of the rose lying on top of the notes Steve has given E.R. and slightly dies inside. Maybe one day...  
Right, the person at his door. The steady pitter-patter of rain becomes noticeable as Eddie rushes towards the door.  
He swings the door open and is met with the sight of Steve soaked to the bone with a hand on his hip while the other runs through his dripping hair. Eddie freezes. “Mind if I come in?” Steve asks.  
Eddie backs out of the doorway and gestures for Steve to come inside. He watches as Steve stands in his living room glancing around for a few seconds with his hands on his hips. Eddie quickly picks up on how he’s shivering and grabs his hand. “Follow me,” Eddie says dragging him towards his room. As he digs through his drawers he jokes, “What did you do? Walk here or something?”  
“I biked here,” Steve says and rushes to continue, “I would’ve driven here, but I couldn’t find my keys fast enough. I didn’t realize it was raining until I was halfway here.”  
Eddie slowly turns with a pair of sweatpants, a t-shirt, and a pair of underwear in his hands. Steve is staring off at something, but he quickly turns to look away when he notices that Eddie is looking at him. Jumpy. “You don’t have to wear the underwear if that’s... weird or something. I just thought... wet underwear is never fun,” Eddie says awkwardly.  
Steve nods and thanks him quietly. The tension in the room is almost suffocating. Eddie clears his throat. “I’ll leave you to get dressed, okay?”  
As Eddie turns to leave, he feels Steve’s cold, wet hand latch around his wrist. “Just don’t run away, please?” Steve requests.  
Eddie locks eyes with him and quickly nods saying, “Promise, I’ll even crack the door on the way out so you can hear me.” It’s a joke, but Steve seems to hold onto the idea as a form of comfort, so as Eddie leaves, he cracks the door a tiny bit.  
Then, he paces. Because Steve Harrington, the one person he really wants to avoid right now, is standing in his room possibly putting on his underwear. And yeah, that kind of freaks Eddie out a bit. Kind of in an exciting way, but also in a holy shit, he needs to escape right now before he does anything stupid kind of way.  
…And now he understands why Steve wanted the door cracked. Why is he here? Did he figure it out? If he knew, he would be more upset. Right?  
“Eddie,” Steve’s voice breaks him out of his thoughts.  
Eddie turns to him and lets out an involuntary high-pitched noise that is beyond embarrassing, but how else is he supposed to respond to Steve Harrington in his clothes?  
“You alright?” Steve asks gently. Eddie nods because he honestly has no thoughts right now. Except maybe a few expletives. Christ, he’s glad he didn’t give Steve his Hellfire shirt, or he would be inconsolable.  
“You look good,” Eddie chokes out.  
Steve smiles and runs a hand through his still-wet hair, brushing it out of his eyes. “Probably would look better with a hair dryer,” Steve comments.  
“You look perfect, Steve,” Eddie replies immediately before he can regret it. Steve flushes a light shade of red as the smile on his face grows. Eddie’s heart skips a beat, and he tries to recover. “Really though, I’m digging the wet dog look. Very metal.”  
Steve snorts but doesn’t fully respond as he stares at the ground seemingly lost in thought.  
Eddie slowly approaches him and asks, “Wanna tell me what’s going on in there?” He gently taps him on the forehead which makes Steve look up quick enough to give him whiplash. Eddie nearly curses under his breath at how beautiful Steve is this close to him. Which was exactly what he didn’t want to do. He needs to put space between them.  
Eddie nearly takes a step back, but Steve’s eyes are locked with his and it feels like they’re making it impossible to move away. Being this close to him is dangerous but it’s a risk he’s willing to take.  
Steve’s eyes narrow and Eddie feels somehow exposed. It’s like he’s searching for something, and then Steve asks, “Eddie are you...”  
Eddie’s breath hitches as Steve’s mouth opens and closes as if he’s struggling to find the words. This cannot be happening, but maybe he knows. And this is it. “Steve-”  
“Are you free tonight?” Steve asks. “I just... you seemed busy earlier, and I wanted to- to hang out.” It sounds false to Eddie’s ears, but there’s no way Steve actually knows. He probably just wants to pry some more information about his secret admirer from Eddie. That’s definitely it.  
“Yeah,” Eddie says with a fake smile and finally steps back. This is about E.R. and not him. Of course that’s why Steve is there, he should’ve known this all along. “Want to watch a movie?” Eddie asks as he starts to make his way to the couch trying not to show Steve the dumb look of hurt on his face.  
“Yeah,” Steve says sounding equal parts dejected and relieved.  
Eddie puts a random tape in and sits on the edge of his couch to put some distance between him and Steve, but then his plan backfires when Steve sits directly next to him trapping Eddie. Time to prepare for the questions.  
But Steve doesn’t say anything until the movie starts. He laughs, “This is the movie me and Robin saw when we were drugged by the Russians.”  
“When you were what?”  
Steve scoots closer and takes a deep breath. A few tense moments later, Steve finally starts, “So, my dad made me get a summer job...”  
Eventually, Steve is fully going into the story that Eddie had only briefly heard about before, but Dustin had told him that Steve doesn’t like to talk about it with anyone . But even as Steve starts to get choked up about involving the kids and potentially endangering Dustin and Erica he continues on. The only difference is that he starts leaning more into Eddie and eventually rests his head on his shoulder and reaches out for Eddie’s hand.  
The movie drones on in the background as Steve loops back to how stupid he had been to include the kids. “They could’ve been the ones getting tortured, Eddie. How could I do that? I was in charge of them and they could’ve- they could’ve...” Steve stops with a choked-out sob that has Eddie pulling Steve completely against his side.  
“But they’re okay, Steve. And it’s all over now. You did protect them by sacrificing yourself.”  
“But Robin-”  
Eddie cuts him off before he can finish that thought, “Robin willingly sacrificed herself to be at your side which is exactly what you did for her. You know she wouldn’t have chosen any other way.”  
Steve sniffs loudly and sadly laughs, “She’s so damn stubborn.”  
“She really is,” Eddie says fondly as he glances down at Steve. “She also really loves you. Everyone does.”  
Steve wipes at his eyes and glances up. “Even you?”  
Eddie’s eyebrows furrow slightly as he tries to figure out if Steve’s joking or not. But there’s growing concern in Steve’s eyes as Eddie doesn’t reply. He rushes to say, “Especially me, Steve."
Okay, that was a little bit more revealing than he wanted it to be, but the look of relief on Steve’s face is worth it. He keeps talking to try to cover up what he just revealed, “You know what would make me love you even more?” Eddie slightly cringes at his phrasing but continues as Steve waits in suspense, “A picture of you in your Scoops Ahoy uniform.”  
Steve bursts out laughing as Eddie watches him, fondly chuckling as he takes in the moment. Even with red-rimmed eyes and tears staining his cheeks, Steve is absolutely gorgeous. Eddie has no idea how Steve doesn’t have people falling at his feet all the time.  
“I’ll consider it,” Steve says as his laughter dies down.  
Eddie loses all train of thought for the second time that night. “You’re kidding.”  
“Maybe I’m not,” Steve says with a smile that’s a little too flirtatious for Eddie to comprehend. “As long as you promise not to tell Dustin.”  
“Promise,” Eddie insists as he smiles down at Steve. He suddenly becomes very aware of how close they are as Steve’s eyes flicker down to Eddie’s lips. Distance. Eddie needs distance to think clearly. “I’m going to grab a beer, do you want one?” Eddie asks quickly as he stands up.    
Steve glances down at his watch and sighs, “I’ve actually got to head back because I’m opening with Robin tomorrow.” He stands up and gestures toward the small television. “And looks like that’s the end of the movie.”  
Eddie snorts and goes over to eject the tape. “I forgot we had something on.”  
“I was just such great company,” Steve says, sarcasm clear in his tone.  
Eddie sets the tape down. “You really were.” He feels that same tension in the room as he turns back to Steve who lingers for a moment. “You can stay the night if you want to especially if it’s still raining.”  
Steve shakes his head. “I don’t want to wake you up so early, and I left my work vest at home. Some other time?”  
Eddie nods his head and offers, “I can drive you back and load your bike into the van.”  
“Thank you, but I think I need to clear my head a bit.” Steve smiles tightly and starts to walk towards the front door. He hesitates and turns to Eddie again, a question clearly on the tip of his tongue.  
Eddie waits, but nothing comes. Steve just rushes forward and wraps his arms around Eddie quickly. Eddie barely has time to put his arms up before Steve leans in and whispers, “Thank you for tonight.” And with a quick peck on the cheek, Steve is racing out the door.  
Eddie heads to the front door but before he gets there, Steve is already on his bike pedaling away into the dark. At least it’s no longer raining.  
Eddie slowly closes the door once Steve is out of sight and leans against it with a sigh. What the hell was that?  
Part Six
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she-is-juniper · 2 years
Text
Put It Into Practice — Steve Harrington x Reader (chapter two)
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Pairing: Scoops Ahoy era Steve Harrington x f!Reader
Rating (by chapter): Explicit (***18+ only. Minors DNI or you will be blocked.)
Summary: “King Steve” Harrington had been the subject of swooning for every girl in their right mind back in high school. But when his sexual dexterity comes into question the summer after graduation, Steve is not about to let his reputation become marred quite so easily. Luckily, Steve is offered the help of his new friend—to give him advice, a few pointers, and maybe a bit of healthy practice…
Word Count (by chapter): 7k
Content: making out, oral sex (female receiving), some fluff, angst, cursing
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and is not intended to be taken as truth or fact. I do not claim to own Stranger Things or any other affiliated names or fictional events. Other details, such as names, locations, and events, are also fictionalized. 
A/N: Maybe this will help you all to forget about vol 2 traumas omg please enjoy and PLEASE comment if you enjoyed this for the love of god—thank u in advcance ♥ love, Juni
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“I’m down,” Steve says, eyes scouring over your body as if he’s seeing you for the first time. 
Your chest inflates with an audible inhale. You can’t believe your own ears. Is Steve Harrington really agreeing to your proposition? “You mean it?”
Steve just nods and meets your eyes. “Can I come in again?”
You pull the door open wider and shut it behind him. And then he’s just standing there kind of awkwardly, looking around at the decor of your parents’ foyer. Fuck, you hadn’t really thought this far ahead. What are you supposed to do now?
“Do you wanna go downstairs again?” you ask him.
“Lead the way.”
“Steve. Are you sure you wanna do this?” You want to give him as many outs as possible, just in case he changes his mind. “I don’t want you to feel, like, obligated or anything.”
“Obligated?” He chuckles a bit. “No. I was worried you were the one feeling obligated.”
“I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t want to do it,” you respond. At those words, Steve’s breath seems to catch.
“You’re sure?” he asks. He’s standing so close to you all of the sudden, almost leaning imperceptibly toward your body.
“I’m sure,” you say.
By the look in his eyes, the way his lips are parted, the way he’s tucking his head, you wonder if he’s thinking about kissing you. Just Friends don’t kiss, though. 
He doesn’t kiss you, but he does reach for your hand—not to hold it, just to brush his fingers against yours with a feather-light touch. Sparks explode from your hands, igniting a fire low in your stomach. “Okay, good,” he says in a low rasp.
The reality of the situation dawns on you. Emboldens you. You smirk up at Steve and grasp his hand tightly, leading him down the stairs to your parents’ basement.
“Rule number one,” you say, reveling at the feel of his rough hand clasped in your own. “Anytime either one of us feels even the least bit uncomfortable, we speak up. Got it?”
“Got it.”
“Rule number two: we stay friends, no matter what.” You look up at him with sincerity. “I don’t want to lose our friendship over this.”
You mean it, but Rule Number Two would also deflect any suspicions Steve might have that you like him as anything more than a friend. You knew going into this—while this was in the Hypothetical Notion phase—that it was stupid as hell to enter an agreement like this when you had such a big, fat crush on him. But you also know yourself, you know what you can handle and what you can’t.
No feelings, just sex. You could handle that.
What you wouldn’t be able to handle, however, is losing Steve as a friend forever. 
“Got it,” Steve intones. “Rule one, tell each other if we’re uncomfortable, rule two, stay friends. What’s rule three?”
You grin, your heart swelling. He’s so goddamn eager. “This isn’t a one-way-street, my guy. You can make up your own rules if you want.”
“Oh, okay.” He bites his forefinger in thought. “I got one. You can’t make fun of me, okay?”
“I’m sure the rule isn’t that stupid.”
“No, that is the rule. Don’t make fun of me.”
You reel. “Why would I make fun of you?”
“I told you, Y/N,”—he drops his voice—“I’m bad at this.”
“I have a feeling you’re not that bad. Don’t sell yourself short. You’ve just let Lisa R. get to your head.” You guide Steve over to the couch and gesture for him to sit on it. “You want a drink?”
“Nah.” Then he freezes and corrects himself, “Actually, yeah, thanks.”
“Rum and Coke?”
“Yes, please. Hold the Coke.”
You cross over to the minifridge to prepare his drink. “Okay, so rule number three. No making fun of Steve.” His poor little heart probably couldn’t handle any more of it. 
“Thank you,” he says, in response to both your officiation of a third rule and to the drink you hand over to him. After you push in the same VHS you’d been watching before and sit down next to him, Steve downs his rum-and-Coke-hold-the-Coke drink in one go. He grimaces.
Jeez.
“Okay, we’re good now,” Steve says. You wonder if you should feel insulted that he seems to need alcohol as a prerequisite for hooking up with you. But as you watch his hands, the way he wrings them against each other, you realize he’s just nervous. He glances up at you naively. “I’m ready.”
You don’t know why, but you burst into giggles. 
“What??” he asks, perturbed.
“You’re all business, aren’t you!” you exclaim.
“Well, yeah,” he says decisively. “I’m ready to go.”
Your giggles turn into full-on laughter. You weren’t expecting him to be so damn pragmatic. It was endearing. Steve still seems so confused, so you settle down and regard him seriously. “I know you’re probably ready to go,” you say quietly. “But I’m gonna need a little more time to, y’know, ease into things. Women are a bit different from men in that regard.”
“What do you mean?”
Your pinky finger slides closer to Steve’s hand, brushing against it the slightest bit. Despite that you’d just held his hand coming down the stairs, the action seemed risqué. You wonder to yourself, How are we going to get from touching pinkies to giving head in one night? “Men, in my experience, can get themselves ready to go in a few minutes or seconds. Women, on the other hand, usually need longer, sometimes a lot longer, with a lot more buildup, in order to feel in the mood.”
“In the mood?” he echoes, utterly transfixed by your words and the touch of your pinky.
You nod solemnly. “And it’s only when we’re feeling in the mood that the magic can happen.”
“The magic…?”
You chuckle and smile cheekily at him. “An orgasm, Steve. The female orgasm? I’m sure you’re familiar?”
His Adam’s apple bobs, and the butterflies in your stomach sink lower and lower at the sight of it. “What? Of course I am,” he says a little too defensively. You make a little sound of incredulity, and he recoils. “Come on. Of course I know how to make a girl come, Y/N.”
“Lots of girls fake it,” you say matter-of-factly. 
“Well, why would they want to fake it?” he marvels.
“Oh, Christ, we could really get into that another time. Not tonight. Point is, a lot of girls do. Probably some of yours, at some point.”
He looks offended. “Um, I think I’d know if the girls I’ve been with were faking it.”
Oh, boy. You raise an eyebrow at him. “Hmm, I’d wager against that. Besides,” —you give him a level look— “we’re here for a reason, aren’t we?”
Steve clearly wants to argue about it, but he suddenly looks unsure. “Okay, new rule, number four. No faking it.”
It was a reasonable rule, but it makes you apprehensive. “Sure. But Steve…women are fickle. Our bodies can be fickle. Sometimes, it just isn’t going to happen…no matter how good of a job you’re doing.”
“I don’t care,” he insists. “I want it to be real. So none of that ’faking it‘ crap, alright?”
“Alright, alright,” you agree. “I’m just saying, don’t get your hopes up.”
His eyes darken. “Is that a challenge?”
Ah, Steve, always so competitive. You’ve seen the way he makes everything a challenge, from the basketball court to trying to out-diss Robin at work. But, you suppose, if it’ll give him the external motivation he needs… “Yeah, it’s a challenge. Impress me, Steve Harrington.”
His mouth twists into a smile. “Challenge accepted.” He’s gazing at you, but he makes no move toward you. You wait.
“Uh, Steve?”
“Hmm?”
“I know we’re promising to stay just friends. But for the sake of my body and getting it where it needs to be in order for this to happen, you’re going to need to kiss me.”
There’s a long pause, and Steve’s eyes darken even more before he says, “Now that I’m good at,” with the cockiest smile you’ve seen from him all night.
And then, as if he’d been anticipating it all along, he brings his hand up to your face, his palm cupping your jaw. And he kisses you for the first time.
And he is good at it. Really, really fucking good at it. 
Steve’s lips are the perfect combination of soft and rough. The feeling of them against your own ignites a fire in your tummy and makes you feel somehow both out of breath and yet so completely at ease. He’s clearly well-practiced at this; you’ve never kissed someone so sure of themself in their actions. Nevertheless, he’s kissing you incredibly gently, allowing you to soak up every movement of his lips. 
He breaks away for a brief moment. “Is this okay?” 
You pull him in again by the collar of his tee shirt in lieu of a response.
Steve's lips fit beautifully around yours, and the scent of his breath is driving you mad. His other arm wraps around you, snaking up your back and pulling you toward him until he’s suddenly holding you against his chest. The way he holds you makes you feel all at once like you’re the only girl in the world. You find yourself feeling into it embarrassingly fast, but you hold back, not wanting to scare him off—not wanting him to realize just how badly you’ve been wanting this, wanting him.
He pulls his lips away again, replacing them with a thumb, tracing the line of your bottom lip. “Jesus, Y/N,” he breathes out. The way he says it makes you wonder how long he’d been wanting you, too. 
You blink up at him through your eyelashes. “What’ll you do now, Steve?” you ask.
He hesitates, thinking, before leaning into you again. But not to kiss you, just to feel your lips against his, to feel your shared breaths, hot and shaky. His hand moves incredibly slowly from your jaw to the back of your neck, and then meanders down to your collarbones, his thumb wrapping gently around the base of your throat. Every shared point of contact between you and Steve almost burns with heat, and wetness begins to pool between your legs. 
Just when you think you can’t handle the anticipation any longer, Steve meets your mouth with his own again, this time with a brand new intensity. He expertly pries your lips open with his. You feel the tip of his tongue against your lip, enticing you, and soon enough you’re meeting his tongue with yours. 
The hand around your throat tightens ever so slightly before it moves to the back of your head again, holding your face securely in place while he kisses you. Steve’s confidence is palpable, and you can tell he’s done this dozens of times with dozens of girls. Somehow, it doesn’t bother you. He knows precisely what to do to make you melt against him like chocolate in the palm of his hand. You want to sing with delight, giddy at the feeling, as if you’re being kissed for the first time. And the sexual energy between the two of you is building so organically that you think in awe that this is exactly why kissing was invented. 
Your senses are in overdrive with the feel of his hands, the taste of his mouth, the scent of his skin. You mentally try to pull yourself together, remind yourself why you’re here. It’s far too easy to lose yourself in Steve’s kiss. You pull back, breathing hard. “You clearly don’t need any practice with that.”
Steve grins. His fingers curl absentmindedly in the hair at the base of your neck. “Is it working?” he murmurs. 
You don’t want to admit how well it’s working; you don’t want to give him the satisfaction. “It’s a good start.”
“I’ll keep going, then,” he says simply, and you’re not about to stop him. 
He kisses you again, harder now. The intensity of the situation builds when he abandons your lips to trace his mouth along the line of your jaw until it reaches below the lobe of your ear. You’ve felt in control of yourself up until now, when you felt his hot tongue press against that sweet spot. Goosebumps erupt across your skin at the sensation. You have to hold back a moan. He’s too damn good at this, you think. And you realize all of the sudden that despite your proposition to teach him how to go down on a girl, you are very clearly not the expert among the two of you.
His unruly brown hair falls in your face as he kisses your neck. Your hands, which you’d been holding shyly in your lap, now roam up the lean muscles of Steve’s arms. They land at their destination: his hair. As many times as he’s had the privilege of running his own hand through these locks, you finally get the pleasure of doing it yourself now. It’s so soft and smells delicious, woodsy, clean. Steve leans into your touch as your fingers caress his scalp.
His own hands roam your body, but unlike the gentle way he’s kissing your throat, his hands soak up the curves of your body with a roguish fervor. They run across your torso, grasping at your sides, your waist, until they reach the hem of your pajama shirt. You feel his low hum rumble against your neck when he reaches the bare skin of your stomach, your hips, traveling under the band of your underwear—
You grab his wrists. “Slow down, cowboy,” you murmur. “This ain’t a race.” You don’t want him to slow down, nor do you need him to. But you want to teach him to take his time. 
“Oh, right,” he says. He pulls away to look you in the eyes. “Will you…”
“Hmm?”
“Will you tell me what you want, right now?” He smiles shyly. 
God, your heart could burst. What didn’t you want right now? “I like what you were doing with your mouth,” you admit. Steve grins earnestly and resumes his ministrations against your neck.
A million thoughts race through your head. Things you want to say so badly but know you can’t, or shouldn’t. Mostly along the lines of things of You’re so fucking amazing and I’m so glad you’re here and I’ve wanted you for so long and please just get in my pants already. But you bite your tongue—literally bite it, in an attempt not to let a moan escape your lips as you feel Steve’s teeth brush against your skin.
“You smell so good,” he says.
“So do you,” you reciprocate.
His hands caress your shoulders as he continues kissing your neck. You’d rather he put them somewhere else. So you place your hands atop his and move them down with yours, guiding them where you want them to go.
Down your neck, across your collarbones. Resting atop the swell of your breasts.
You remove your hands from his now, letting him take the reigns. Steve hesitates ever so slightly, just enough for you to arch into his touch as an expression of permission. He squeezes your breasts gently, and then not so gently. Which you absolutely love. You let him know by arching your back into his touch. His thumbs find the hard outline of your nipples through your shirt, rubbing in sensual circles, before he pinches them—again, not so gently.
At that, you can’t possibly help the choked sound that escapes your throat.
“Do you like that?”
You nod in lieu of a response, and you feel Steve’s resulting smile against your neck. He’s making you feel really fucking needy now. Maybe he can tell, because he starts tugging up at the bottom of your shirt. You bring your arms up and let him pull it completely off.
Shirtless, your chest exposed before him, you watch as Steve’s pupils become blown out. He’s drinking in the sight of you like it’s something holy to behold. “Holy shit,” he breathes. And you could say the same toward him—his eyes so wide, his lips swollen, his hair wild. He looks irresistible. 
“What, Steve?” you say a bit tauntingly. “It’s not like you’ve never seen boobs before.”
“Yeah, but not—” he clears his throat “—not like yours… You’re so…” He combs his fingers through his hair again. “Fuck, Y/N.”
You’re starting to feel self-conscious at the way he’s regarding your bare chest with such fascinated reverence. Warmth rushes to your face and you and cross your arms in front of you. Steve looks at you like you’re crazy, uncrosses them, and immediately wraps his arms around your back to draw you in closer to him. He brings his lips to yours again.
“You’re so…” he tries again and fails to come up with the words. He trails kisses down your throat until he’s pressing his lips against your sternum between your breasts.
“Spit it out, Steve.”
“You’re gorgeous, Y/N,” he whispers. “So fucking gorgeous.”
You feel even warmer with embarrassment. You could get with that sentiment. 
Steve, once again, knows exactly what to do. He kisses his way to your nipple and wraps his lips around it. You don’t know why, but you weren’t really expecting him to treat your breasts with so much love and attention. Not that you were complaining. He sucks gently, his tongue moving in small circles around the bud. You tilt your head back and swallow hard. So he can use his tongue like that, and he expects me to believe he’s bad at eating pussy?
You shift yourself so you’re lying flat on your back on the couch. Steve wastes no time crawling in between your legs, positioning himself on his elbows over your face. He peers down at you and smiles.
“Is it working now?” he asks again cheekily.
God yes. “You could say that.” Steve raises an eyebrow until you admit, “Okay, it’s working, yeah. I’m definitely getting there.”
There meaning, ready to let Steve get the practice he came here for.
He chuckles in satisfaction and leans down to kiss you again. “And how will I know when you’re…ready?”
I already am. “Just keep doing what you’re doing, dumbass,” you laugh.
Things start moving faster now. Steve’s hands are everywhere, tracing paths all along your body, his lips not far behind. It feels like he’s absolutely worshiping your body. And god, is he eager. There’s zeal and fervor in every motion. He’s kissing your stomach when his hands find your thighs, caressing the skin as if you’re the finest silk. 
“Your skin is so soft,” he compliments you. You feel stupidly flustered.
“You have a way with words,” you note. “That’s good. Girls love that.”
“Does that mean you love it, too?” he asks. 
You nod, sheepish again. God, you feel so lucky to be here with Steve Fucking Harrington right now. So far, there hasn’t been a single thing he hasn’t done aptly. Again, how bad could he possibly be at the rest?
Steve’s hand comes around your hips to your ass, giving it a gentle squeeze. You buck your hips up into him, and he groans a little.
“Steve,” you gasp. 
He gives you a cheeky smile. 
“Take off my shorts,” you instruct.
His smile vanishes.
“I, uh—okay,” he stammers. He’s hesitant as ever as he slides your pajama shorts down your legs. “Shorts are off.” He swallows hard and frowns at the sight of you in just your underwear. Not quite the reaction most girls want when a guy sees them nearly naked.
You frown back, perturbed by his sudden change of mood. “Hey, we don’t have to do this,” you remind him. “Rule number one, remember?”
“No, that’s not it. I want to. I really want to—for you,” he adds, his eyes indecipherable. “I’m just…I don’t know where to start.”
You smooth his hair back from his face. “I’ll guide you.”
Truth be told, you aren’t even positive yourself about how you’d guide Steve through this, seeing as you’ve never successfully came from a guy’s mouth before. But you really don’t want Steve to know that.
“I just want it to be good for you,” he adds.
“There’s no pressure,” you reassure him. “Look…” You reach for his hands, giving them a gentle squeeze before guiding them to your inner thighs. You show him how he can brush against your skin with a feather-light touch, and he replicates the action, tracing soft lines. “You can kiss me, there, too,” you murmur.
He obeys, leaning down and kissing his way up your thighs until his lips reach the inseam of your underwear. The sensation—and the anticipation—sends a miserably warm feeling across your groin. You fall back onto your elbows, humiliated at the thought that he’d be able to see the wet spot on your underwear.
“Now what?” Steve breathes out, and you feel his hot breath spilling across your pelvis. It completely scatters your thoughts.
“I…your hand.”
“What?”
“Touch me, Steve. Through my panties.”
Whoops. You’ve forgotten he hates that word. “Don’t say that,” he groans.
“Grow up,” you say. And then you gasp and jolt, as he’s decided to go right for your clit with his thumb. “Whoa.”
“‘Whoa’ is good,” Steve grins, pressing into your clit again. Your legs twitch. You bat his hand away. 
“‘Whoa’ is surprised,” you correct. “You didn’t give me any warning.”
“You told me to touch you!”
“There’s a whole lot more surface area you could have started with,” you chuckle. You grab his hand again and lead it lower, to your labia. “It feels good if you touch me here, too.”
And it certainly does feel good. Steve touches you teasingly gently at first, and then he slowly starts to add pressure. His fingers stroke you down and up, teasing your entrance. You hum contentedly. 
“You’re so warm,” he says.
“If you want,” you breathe, “you can kiss there, too.”
Steve, eager as ever, presses his lips to you through your underwear, right where you know a pool of wetness has seeped through. You sigh and lay back to enjoy yourself. While his lips are busy, he runs his hands up and down your thighs. He squeezes your inner thigh, and now you let yourself moan. 
“Fuck, Y/N,” Steve whispers. “You look so good.”
You realize he’s looking up at you through his lashes as he kisses you. It feels incredibly personal. Why, oh why does he have to be doing that?
And why can’t I look away?
“Can I take these off?”
You nod—finally—but Steve doesn’t move. 
“Y/N? Can you say it aloud for me?”
“Yes,” you say. “That’s good that you ask. You should always ask.”
Steve slips off your underwear without another moment’s hesitation. He gapes at you, fully unclothed. 
“Don’t stare at me like that,” you giggle. “You’re making me feel so self-conscious.”
You try to close your legs, but Steve promptly pries your knees apart again. He’s practically salivating. He looks up at you with hungry eyes before he bends down and engulfs your pussy with his mouth. 
Oh fuck. You gasp and arch into him. Holy fuck. 
His tongue laps at you, right at your entrance. He makes a groaning sound and closes his eyes. “You taste so fucking good.”
“I thought you didn’t know what to do.”
“I know what I want to do,” he asserts.  “I want to taste you.” 
He does it again, dragging his tongue through you over and over like it’s his dying wish. It feels too fucking good, mostly because it’s Steve Harrington doing it. To deflect, you scramble to think of something to say.
“You’re doing good,” you say, your voice taught. “You’re doing so good, Steve.”
Your words encourage him, and he flattens his tongue as he licks his way up to your clit. It sends hot chills across your whole body. You tilt your head back and moan softly. He continues with that motion for awhile, licking upwards each time.
It feels good having his tongue on your clit, but the motion isn’t really doing it for you.
“Ok, hold on,” you rasp and brush your hands through his hair. He pulls away and looks up at you naively. “I know you work at Scoops Ahoy for a living, but you can do more than just lick it like an ice cream cone. No offense.”
“Ah, pussy-flavored ice cream,” he jokes.
“Gross.”
“Not yours.” As if to prove his point, he laps his tongue through you again. You bite your lip, and he laughs. “Besides, that was all just for me, mostly. I love how you taste, Y/N,” he says, his voice sincere, filled with lust. 
You want to explode. Is it just you, or is it getting steamy in this basement?
“I’m glad you think so.”
He kisses both of your thighs. “Tell me what you want now, baby.”
Baby? Did he mean to say that? You struggle to think of how to describe it to him. “I want your mouth on my clit,” you say softly. 
Steve’s intense eyes don’t leave yours as he dips down to press his lips oh so gently to your clit. “Right here?” he murmurs against it. 
You nod, absolutely transfixed at the sight. “More,” you demand. He parts his lips, taking you into his mouth. Your breathe shakily, your toes curling. Your racing thoughts from before have come to a halt, and all you can think about is this very moment. 
“So sensitive,” he notices.
You can’t reply even if you wanted to. Steve treats you so gently with his mouth. Sweat starts to bead on your forehead. You can’t believe he’s still looking up at you so adoringly with those big brown eyes. 
“Wrap your arms around me,” you instruct. 
He does as he’s told. Holy god, this is the vision you’d been dreaming of for the past twenty four hours. Exactly the same vision. 
Steve perched in between your legs. His arms wrapped around your thighs. His mouth wrapped around your clit. 
It’s almost too much. You collapse backward and moan his name, loudly. He likes that, because he makes a little chuckle sound and holds you even more tightly against him. You’re so goddamn aroused at this point you want to cry. It was almost perfect, except you find yourself wanting more than what Steve is currently doing with his tongue.
“Hold on,” you pant. “Steve.”
He breaks away from you. “Am I doing good?” he asks genuinely. 
He’s like a golden retriever. You smile breathlessly and touch his cheek. “So far so good. But I need you to use your tongue more.”
Steve huffs a laugh. “First you’re telling me it’s too much tongue and you’re not ice cream, and now it’s not enough. Women really are fickle.”
You giggle. “No, no…” You think back to his mouth on your breasts and the way his tongue was driving you crazy then. “Do you remember what you were doing to my nipples before? Do it like that.”
The spark of a challenge glints in his eyes. “Coming right up.”
Like you’d just ordered ice cream. What a dumbass. You’re about to laugh and make another jest, but—
Fuck, he’s doing it. Holy. Fuck. 
Your mouth falls open and you let out a long moan. Steve sucks at your clit, his tongue moving in circles now—slow at first, and then faster. 
“Yeah, that’s it,” you encourage him, your voice raw. “That’s it, Steve, baby. Just like that. Oh my god. Fuck.” 
His fingertips dig into the skin of your hips, your waist. You start to see stars. Fuck. Your insecurities are long gone now; you feel your orgasm beginning to creep up on you. But you need more. 
“I need your fingers, baby,” you whine.
He pulls away. “What?”
Aggrieved that he stopped, you tangle your hands in his hair. “I’m telling you to finger me.”
Steve smiles like a schoolgirl. He readjusts one of his arms so his hand is free and the other is still wrapped around your hips. He pops one of his fingers into his mouth. You’re pleased to know he at least knows to do that, for lubrication. 
But he’s going much too slow for your liking now. He traces along your entrance with his finger, gazing down at it like a rare artifact. And he’s not even using his mouth anymore. You grunt in frustration. 
“Steve?” 
“Hmm?”
“Finger me. Now.”
He doesn’t need to be told twice. He pushes his middle finger into you. You flutter your eyes shut and groan. 
“So fucking wet,” he marvels. “And tight. Fuck, you’re perfect, Y/N.”
“Less talking.” You tighten your grip on his hair. “More eating me out.”
Steve gives you a cocky grin. “So that means you’re liking it, then? I’m doing good?”
Come on! “Not if you keep talking!”
He laughs. His finger curls up inside of you and you jolt as if you’d been electrocuted. You feel the effects of it ripple through your body like wildfire. Finally, he bends down to suck on your clit again. His mouth feels so warm and wet, pressed so hard against you his nose brushes against your mons pubis. With his tongue resuming its circular pattern, his finger curling over and over inside you, his eyes still locked on yours…
The white-hot tinge of need in your core grows and grows. 
“Don’t stop, Steve,” you whine desperately and buck your hips against him. He speeds up. “No, no, don’t speed up. Keep doing exactly what you were doing.” The steady pace resumes. “Yeah, that’s good, that’s so fucking good, baby.”
Each lap of his tongue, each curl of his finger, feels as if he’s stripping away every layer of your poise and dignity, until you’re nothing but an incoherent, desperate, moaning mess for him. The fire in your core burns hotter and hotter, and you’re struck with the notion that no man has ever made you feel this good, ever.
“Steve, I’m gonna—oh, fuck, I’m gonna come,” you realize. He hums encouragingly against you, and it’s enough to push you over the edge. You can’t believe this is happening, can’t believe he’s truly done it, and there’s no going back now. 
You come completely undone, the tendrils of fire overtaking your whole body. You arch your back and cry out a broken sob of pure pleasure. You convulse, clenching around his finger, grinding against his face, without a shred of dignity left in you. Your thighs squeeze together against your will. Reality becomes a hazy, agonizing dream. 
Steve’s name leaves your lips like a prayer. And as the waves of pleasure continue to ripple through you, Steve doesn’t let up. You thrash away from him, but he’s keeping you pinned down against the couch with his arm. It takes pushing his forehead forcefully away and telling him, “Stop, stop, stop,” for him to finally stop. 
Minutes pass. Maybe hours. You don’t really know how long. The only sounds in the room are your labored breathing, Steve kissing your legs, and the television blaring Fast Times. 
“Holy fuck,” you finally say once you recover the ability to speak. It’s all you can say. “Are you okay?”
“Am I okay?” Steve laughs. “I should be asking you that.”
“Did I squeeze you too tightly? With my thighs?”
He kisses your thighs then. “I fucking loved it.”
“Good. I hope I didn’t suffocate you.”
"I wish you would have. Holy fuck, Y/N."
You focus on your breathing. “Oh my god.”
“So I’m guessing that means I did a good job?” Steve grins up at you and wipes off his chin. He looks so proud of himself. Frankly, you’re proud of yourself for being able to make this happen for him. 
A part of you feels humiliated about the mess you’ve inevitably made on his face and hands. The rest of you is too blessed out to care. 
“Yeah, Steve,” you smile back at him. “You did a good job.”
He pumps his fist and whispers, “Yes!”
“You’re such an idiot.”
“An idiot who just made you come.” Steve can’t stop kissing and caressing your legs and stomach. “That was…that was fucking amazing, Y/N. That was hands down the hottest thing I think I’ve ever witnessed.”
It’s perfect timing for an aftershock to rack your body. You inhale and squeeze your legs shut. Steve watches you, dumbstruck. 
“What was that?” he gapes, rubbing at your legs.
You start to giggle. “That happens sometimes.”
“God. Jesus. That’s what it’s like for you?” Steve lets out an appreciative exhale. “You women have it so good. Gotta say, I’m a bit envious. It’s like that for all women?”
“It’s different for all women,” you comment, your heart still racing. You reach for your underwear on the ground and slip them on; it’s more comfortable for you like that.
“Is it like that for you every time?” he asks. “With all the shaking, and the quivering, and the…?” He gestures broadly to your body.” 
“Only the really good orgasms are like that,” you grin. “It’s never happened before you, with another man.”
Steve freezes and gapes at you. Whoops. You hadn’t meant to let that one slide.
“What?” he exclaims in disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding.” When you shake your head, he says, “No one’s ever made you come before?”
“Nope. Well, now, one person has.”
He looks fascinated. “And you wanted to let me be the first?”
Well, duh. “I figured I could still be a good teacher to you.” You waggle your eyebrows. “Was I?”
“Holy fuck, were you,” he says. “Should call you ‘Professor Y/N.’” 
“You were a very apt pupil,” you compliment jokingly.
You realize then, as your connection with reality starts to return, that Steve’s voice is more strained than you’d ever heard it. Almost as strained as the hard outline you can clearly see bulging uncomfortably from his pants. His eyes have a feral energy to them as he looks into your eyes and continues to trace lines on your body with his hands. He was clearly turned on, excruciatingly so.
I could return the favor, you think to yourself. The idea of doing that has you practically salivating. But the question wasn’t would you do it (of course you would) but rather should you do it. That wasn’t part of your agreement. And at what point would you and Steve be past the point of no return as friends? 
But he has to be so needy right now. Plus, screw the agreement. Who said you had to play by those unspoken rules?
You decide to test the waters a bit, leaning into Steve. He leans into you, too, almost imperceptibly, so you close the distance between your lips. He tastes of you and it’s such a sexy thought that you make a mental note to savor it for the rest of your life. You start to kiss him more heavily, but you can tell he’s holding back, hesitating.
“Hey,” you murmur. 
“Hey,” he echoes you.
“Thank you. For the orgasm.” He huffs a little laugh. “I mean it. It was really amazing. Fantastic. Life altering. All of the good things.”
“It was for me, too,” he says quietly. But he doesn’t say anything more. Is he feeling shy? You’ll have to go for a less subtle approach.
“And intense,” you say as your hands caress. “You must be feeling a lot right now.”
“I’m okay,” Steve says. Your hands go to his chest, slowly tracing down to his stomach, and lower. “Y/N, what…?”
You kiss him again, sensually and with as much intent in your actions as possible. Your hands drop lower, searching for his belt buckle.
Steve seizes your wrists.
“Whoa, whoa,” he frowns. “Y/N, what are you doing?”
“I’d like to return the favor.” Badly. Please let me.
But Steve shakes his head fervently. “That’s, uh—that’s okay, Y/N, I—um, I don’t think we should—” he stammers. “You—you don’t have to do that.”
“Don't have to? I want to,” you say simply. Steve’s eyes seem panicked.
“You do?” he asks, shocked. You smile roguishly and bite your bottom lip. His skin reddens a shade darker.
“Really, I’m fine,” he insists. “I don’t need you to, uh… We shouldn’t do that.”
What? “Why not? You did it for me.”
“Yes, and it was amazing, but Y/N, I really d—I can’t.”
“I don’t understand,” you say. “What’s wrong?” Does he have an STD?
“Nothing’s wrong,” he replies too quickly. “I promise.”
You feel frustrated, worried, that he won’t tell you. "That's okay," you say. And then it got awkward when he didn't say anything back. Your heart rate skyrocketed. “I'm just curious why not?”
“I just—I don’t want that, Y/N. With you.”
Well, ouch. His words sink in, and you feel flustered again, but for a very different reason.
There’s another long pause, long enough for you to come to your senses. You grab your pajama shirt from the floor and pull it back on, avoiding his gaze. "That's okay," you say again. But it did not feel okay.
“Well It’s not like I don’t want to, I do,” Steve explains. “I really—god. I really do want to."
“You’re contradicting yourself,” you mutter. "It's okay that you don't want to do that, but don't lie to me about it." You don’t know why, but you feel humiliated, suddenly overhwlemed about everything that just happened, everythig that steve just did to you, and everything he just said. Why do I feel humiliated? I wanted this. He wanted this.
“I'm not lying! I—listen,” Steve says, grabbing your upper arms. He doesn’t speak again until you’ve met his eyes. “We’re friends, Y/N. Really good friends. That was rule number two, right?”
You nod and try not to think of how much you very much did not want to be just friends with Steve a few minutes ago.
“Right,” he continues. “And what you’re saying you want to do, with me—to me—it’s…” He sighs. “I don’t think I could go back to being friends with you after that, Y/N.”
Unexpected anger flashes in your chest. “Oh, but you can go back to being friends after you’ve tasted my pussy, though?” You spit the words out more harshly than you should have. “That doesn’t even make any sense, Steve.”
He flinches. “You’re upset.” He sighs again, does that stupid hand-through-the-hair thing for the millionth time today. “I didn’t mean to make you upset. I’m sorry.”
You bite your cheek and work to calm yourself down. You always go so wacky after having an orgasm, and frankly, you still feel out of sorts from it. This was stupid. You shouldn't get mad at him for telling you he doesn't want you to give him head. If he's not comfortable, he's not comfortable. But why is he saying he does want you to?
“It’s okay if you don’t want me to do that, Steve,” you say. “I’ll respect that if you’re not comfortable with it, of course. But I just don't understand what you're saying. Why should it be so different for you than it was for me?”
He stares at you hard. He opens his mouth, then closes it. His honey eyes seem like he’s looking at you through a thousand-foot wall that’s guarding his emotions; you can’t decipher them at all.
“Why should it be different?” you repeat. 
“It just is, Y/N, for me,” he says with finality.
You don’t have a response for him. You're humiliated. Humiliated for asking to give him head. Humiliated that he rejected you. Humiliated that he did it for you.
He stares at you until he can’t anymore, looking toward the basement steps.
“I should go,” he says.
“Okay,” you reply.
That’s it, I guess, you think. Pussy-eating lesson over. Seriously, what are you supposed to say  now? Let’s pretend like that never happened and go back to being friends. See you tomorrow at the mall. I hope you can put your newfound skills to the test soon.
Another thought in your head says, What exactly were you expecting to happen after this, Y/N? 
You pull on your night shorts and follow Steve up the stairs and to your front door. He looks down at you, looks back and forth between your eyes, looks down at your lips.
“Rule number two,” he says softly, but it’s almost like a question, like he wants to make sure you’re on the same page.
So you force a small smile, hoping to God it’s convincing. "Stay friends, no matter what,” you recite.
Steve nods and smiles back; you’ve convinced him well. “You’re one of my closest friends, Y/N. One of my best friends.” He says it like he's willing for it to still be true. He seems like he wants to say something more, but he breathes deeply instead. “See you tomorrow?” he asks.
You nod and open the door for him to let him out. “Goodnight, Steve.”
“Goodnight.”
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Author’s Note: Ahhh I'm so sorry to taint this smutty chapter with such profound angst! Anyone have any theories about why Steve rejected Reader in the end???
Thank you so much for reading! There will definitely be at least one more chapter of Put It Into Practice, so keep your eyes peeled for it!
I’m dying to hear your thoughts about this work! Please note that I write fanfiction for free; my only request for repayment is a genuine expression of your thoughts, opinions, likes/dislikes, and predictions about the story. Whether it’s simply a “Wow, I loved it!”, a keyboard smash, a series of convoluted thoughts in the tags, or even a full-out review, please know that any and all feedback is welcome!
For fanfic, blurb, or headcanon requests about Elvis, Austin Butler, or Stranger Things, please let me know via my ask box! I can't promise I'll get to all of them, but I'll do my absolute best ◡̈
Much love ❤︎ from Juniper
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@rexorangecouny @k-k0129 @piecsesrising @cutesy-creep @whereintheworldisspencerreid @thingfromlove @hellfirebloodhound @buginksworld @wtfsteveharrington @yellowharrington @theangryjuniper @o-holynight @floralcyanide @chestharrington
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saikokirakira · 9 months
Text
Part 2 of 2: Pagtingin (Feelings) [Steve Harrington x Reader]
a/n: hello. it me. i definitely did not forget to post part two. if you would believe it, i was actually getting sick every week the past month because of the insane hours and workload of my new job. so, umm, probably not lasting long there... i wanna be pretty again and lose all the stress hives all over my body.
summary: based on this blurb on a hanahaki au/flayed!reader
word count: 12k words (big boi over here; i definitely bullied our girl throughout this entire chapter)
warning: barely proofread, only edited twice; no use of y/n; steve is an oblivious himbo (but i'll excuse it because he was the ultimate bbg in s3); ANGST TRAIN, hurt no comfort; moms of hawkins summer '85 (i have 911 on standby); billy "walking red flag" hargrove; unrequited feelings / pining; minor violence; body horror (it's hanahaki, what'd you expect?); writer's torture of a self-insert character; stranger things season 3 canon, but Alexei lives fyuck canon actually; metal goodboi cameo
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You despised summer. You didn’t used to hate summer, but working in the summer heat when your recently recurring childhood asthma gets triggered by intense heat wasn’t the best option for you. While you couldn’t pass off as a lifeguard at the Hawkins Community Pool, your neighbour and acquaintance, Heather Holloway, pulled some strings to have you manning the snack bar.
It wasn’t ideal, but it certainly opened up the opportunity to listen in to a lot of gossip all around town. Not your favourite pastime, yet Heather enjoyed the very juicy ones, something you noticed she most likely inherited from her father, the chief editor for the town’s paper. Every time her shift ended, so did yours and either you share interesting stories of the day while you drive home or to the newly opened Starcourt Mall.
“Ew, those women are either married or divorced,” your nose wrinkled in disgust at Heather’s favourite gossip topic, Hawkins group of moms. Specifically, their scheduled visits to the pool whenever Billy Hargrove would be on duty as lifeguard.
“He likes the attention, I guess,” Heather shrugged, “and the moms get to ogle eye candy.”
“Still a minor, Heather.”
“Uh-uh, he turned 18 a few months back,” Heather argued, though the distaste was apparent on her face. “The term is barely legal.” Then she suddenly giggled. “I’m still calling the police when they make a direct move,” she half-joked. “I know they call me a bitch behind my back.”
“You’re a menace.”
“And you’re a sissy,” Heather shot back. “When are you going to ask Steve Harrington ou— JESUS!” She clung at the grab handle when your foot landed too much on the gas pedal. “No need to take me with you to hell just because you can’t get a date.” Then with a cheeky grin, she added, “I heard Steve can’t get a date either, and he talks up anyone at that ice cream place.”
You slammed the brakes. “That’s it!” you exclaimed. “You’re walking the rest of the way to Starcourt!” The only reply you had was Heather’s maniacal giggles at getting you so riled up.
You and Heather parted ways when you arrived at Starcourt after telling you that she’d be getting a ride home with her date. You waved her off and headed to Scoop’s Ahoy. A group of girls were giggling as they were leaving when you got there. You also noticed the whiteboard that Robin, Steve’s co-worker, held up, adding another tally on the “You suck” scoreboard.
“See what I have to deal with?” Steve immediately ranted, jerking a finger at Robin’s direction. “If you worked with me, I don’t have to be subjected with workplace abuse.”
You and Robin snorted in sync. “You poor baby,” you cooed teasingly while pinching Steve’s cheek. “How can I ever live without the longer shifts, ridiculous uniform, and being your wingman?” You earned another laugh from Robin while Steve scoffed before shooting you a pout.
“Well, you certainly miss me since you constantly visit as soon as your shift ends,” Steve shot back.
“Sure, I’m definitely not here as Heather’s chauffer to her movie date,” you said, “or just hanging out at the comic book store.”
“You want me to come wi—?”
“Bye, Robin!” you ignored his offer yet still blowing Steve a raspberry to which he rolled his eyes at. Exiting the ice cream shop, you made you way to the pharmacy first before the comic book store. It was mostly empty when you got there, so it was a breeze in getting your prescription inhaler.
It’s been forever since you had asthma, the last one during your elementary days. Your wheezing fits had only come back since that occurrence in those tunnels that you still see in your nightmares. However, after the countless tests and screening from military scientists, they cleared it to just “your body shifting from all the trauma.”
You’d think after opening gates to other dimensions with monsters, they’d be able to create a cure for asthma.
The thought was highly amusing to you that you almost missed the fiery redhead that just entered the pharmacy. Your eyes watched Max Mayfield carefully as she walked through the aisles with her head low, trying to be inconspicuous. Grabbing your bag of prescription, you slowly followed where Max wandered off, which happened to be a shelf of bandages.
You almost let it go, knowing that her skateboard hobby always led her to a number of scrapes and bruises. But when she reached for the bandage wrap on the high shelf, her shirt sleeve revealed a hand-shaped mark wrapped around her pale wrist. Trying to be nonchalant as possible, you approached her and grabbed the bandage for her, ignoring how Max quickly put her arm down and tugged at her sleeve.
“Skateboarding mishap again, red?”
Max’s signature cocky smirk covered the surprise on her face. “It’s one of my better falls,” she said. Then her eyes wandered to the prescription bag in my hand. “Still have those? They said you’d be better in a couple of weeks since the incident.”
“Well, I didn’t, so here I am,” you shrugged. “Hey, listen, I’m heading out to the comic book store if you want to tag along. My treat.”
Once you were at the community pool. Though you resorted to buying your carefully as she skimmed through the new arrival stack. You didn’t really have anything worth buying since most of the comics you read are from Dustin’s collection that he recommends and lends to you every other week. Sometimes you get the appeal, sometimes you didn’t. Still, it was a great way to pass the time when things are slow from working the snack bar at the comic book store if you want to tag along. My treat.”
Maybe you should’ve offered to buy Max a cone from Scoops Ahoy instead.
“You got any good recommendations?” you randomly asked the guy who just walked in. You seem to have caught him off-guard, the look of surprise that you were talking to him. “Munson, right?”
“Yeah, Eddie,” he said after a brief pause. “Didn’t think you’d be the type to read comics.”
You thought so too. But you also didn’t think that monsters that live in an alternate dimension exist.
You shrugged. “I read almost anything to pass the time,” you said. “Henderson lends me a lot of X-men.”
Eddie was about to reply when Max approached you with two Wonder Woman comics. “I can pay for the other one,” she offered.
You scoffed lightly and ruffled the top of her head. “Don’t be ridiculous,” you said. “Didn’t I say it was my treat?” Before she could argue, you snatched both copies from her hand and headed to the counter with her trailing behind you. “See you around, Munson.”
You and Max wandered aimlessly around the mall. You offered to go watch whatever movie was in the cinema, but Max turned you down, saying that she had plans with the party later that week once their campaign planning was through. After you ran out of things to do, you offered to drive her home, which she sheepishly accepted.
Before you could even pull out the parking area, Max said, “I know you saw the bruise. You didn’t have to do all that to make me feel better.”
A surprised smile tugged at your lips, impressed on how quickly she caught up on your intentions. “I don’t really have any sisters to dote on,” you said, “so it isn’t entirely on pity. I know you can stand up for yourself, red.” You continued, “But promise me one thing?”
Max nodded.
“You tell me when anything gets too much, okay?” You held her hand to show your support. “I’m always going to be here for you.” Trying to lighten up the mood, you added, “Billy is a prick anyway.” Then you pulled the car into drive.
“He has it worse than me.”
You tried to hold in your composure, but you couldn’t help your eyebrows rising up at the unexpected information. You always suspected something going on with Billy. No one suddenly becomes an asshole overnight. That you knew from being friends for a long time with Steve. Aside from the horrible friends he used to have, Steve grew up with his parents barely around, and even if they were, his father was always either hard on him or emotionally absent.
“Well, it doesn’t give him the right to take it out on you.”
“I know.”
Later that week, you were at your usual spot at the snack booth. The heat was especially brutal that day at it almost felt that your lungs were constricting every time you tried to breathe out. Not even ice water seemed to help, and when the thin clouds cleared, the blaring sunlight only made it worse, even though you were under the shade of the booth.
“Hey, watch the stand for me?” you said to your co-worker who mostly just tried to look busy by restacking cans of soda and rearranging the chips as a way to avoid kids yelling out their orders. He sighed but nodded, getting up to man the counter. On your way out of the booth, you pulled out your inhaler out of your backpack and staggered into the searing sunlight to make your way to Heather.
As you took a blip of your inhaler, you didn’t notice the person near you and collided into them, sending your inhaler flying. “Shit,” you muttered, picking up the plastic case. “Sorry about that.” You looked up and paled upon the realisation that you bumped into Billy Hargrove.
Billy didn’t seem to mind and just grunted before brushing past you. If anything, he looked as disoriented as you, dishevelled and profusely sweating. He had an obvious stumble to his step on his way to the locker room to what you assumed was to get ready for his shift.
You had half a mind to approach him when you heard “Hey! No dunking, Curtis!” from the pool area. You were suddenly reminded of your current task and shrugged off the Billy’s concerning state. For all you know, he was still probably drunk from whatever party he was at last night. It was summer break after all.
You carefully avoided being splashed near the poolside as you circled over to where Heather was stationed at the lifeguard post. Unfortunately, you almost tripped from another dizzy spell again and collided with another person. Just your luck.
“Oh, dear,” a woman this time voiced her concern. “Are you okay, hon? Maybe you should stay out of the heat.”
You steadied yourself and stared into the eyes of Karen Wheeler. “I’m okay, Mrs. Wheeler,” you wheezed. “Sorry ‘bout that.”
“Drink some water!” Mrs. Wheeler called out before walking off.
Finally, you were able to tell Heather that you were cutting your shift short and that you couldn’t drive her to her dad’s office as you agreed on earlier that day. She waved you off and told you to drive carefully, assuring you that she could always call her mom to pick her up later.
On your way out, you noticed Mrs. Wheeler coming out of the locker room looking distressed and teary-eyed. She didn’t seem to notice you staring at her as she made her way back to the pool area. A few moments later, Billy came out of the same room, still looking as physically uncomfortable as before.
For the past weeks of working at the pool, it was no secret that one of Billy’s favourite moms was Mrs. Wheeler. But was there really some illicit affair between them? You probably wouldn’t put it past Billy, but the woman had three kids, for goodness’ sakes. You made a mental note to ask Heather what she knew about it tomorrow.
After a gruelling half hour drive while cranking your A/C up to full blast, you finally got home. You barely got a mouthful of ice water when your door rang. You wondered who it could be when the neighbours knew that you and your parents were usually at work during the entire day.
“Hey, can you drive us to Starcourt?”
You stared into the wild grins of El and Max, standing excitedly on your doorstep. Fifteen minutes later, you were back in your car, playing chauffeur for the two girls giggling from the backseat of your car.
“I’m telling you, El, boyfriends lie,” Max insisted. She poked you. “Tell her.”
You chuckled dismissively at their tween antics. “I wouldn’t know.”
Both El and Max paused and focused their attention on you.
“You haven’t dated anyone?”
“I’ve been on dates,” you clarified, “but I never really dated anyone.”
“Why?” El asked. It was more inquisitive than mocking or accusatory. She was very curious, that one.
“Because she has the biggest crush on Steve.”
“Oh, my God!” you exclaimed. “Does everyone just know about that?”
“Well, anyone with eyes, yeah,” Max said, rolling her eyes for good measure. “The only reason why he hasn’t caught up is because boys are dumb.”
That made you laugh out loud despite the discomfort in your ribs.
When you arrived at the mall, you expected to have them run off to who knows where while you hung out at the waiting area, taking advantage of the air conditioning, but those two dragged you to every clothing outlet at the mall. You tried to not exert yourself, but it was hard not to match their energy when they were clearly having so much fun. It was even so endearing to see El emerging from her shell, trying out outfits that she genuinely liked and not those lumberjack fits that Chief Hopper had her on all the time.
By the third store, you insisted to sit that one out and merely watch them try on a bunch of different hats. You giggled at them posing at the mirror as if they were at a fashion show. However, you only had a moment of peace before Max approached you with a sundress that looked way too close to your size.
“No,” you stood your ground.
“Yes.”
“No!”
“Yes, then we’re going to Scoops Ahoy to get cones after this.”
“Ask Steve out on a date,” El urged, smiling encouragingly.
“What happened to ‘boys are dumb?’” you said, raising your brow.
“He’s not going to ask you out first, so you will do it for him!” Max said. She and El both grabbed each of your arm and pulled you to your feet and into the dressing room then tossing in the dress and pulling the curtain shut.
You stared at yourself in the mirror and the dress you held in front of you. You hated to admit it, but it was a pretty dress. Even if you couldn’t score a date with Steve, at least you had a great addition to your wardrobe. With that positive thought in mind, you pulled your shirt over your head and hung it on one of the clothing hooks.
You carefully pulled down the zipper on the dress when you noticed something odd on your reflection. Peering closer on the mirror, you stared at your ribs, noticing the almost black veins that almost seemed to be moving underneath the skin. What the…
“Are you done?!” Max called out from behind the curtain.
You snapped out of it and quickly pulled on the dress. All your initial worries faded once you saw yourself in the mirror. For good measure, you pulled your hair out of your scrunchie and let your tresses fall out in waves over your shoulder.
“Wow,” El and Max chorused.
You didn’t even notice them pulling the curtain open.
When you made your way to Scoops Ahoy, Max and El apparently had already made plans that you don’t come in with them. “Let it be a surprise,” Max had said. It was almost ridiculous that you were letting 14-year-olds dictate you on how to get a date from your crush.
“Okay, here you go, you got a strawberry and then a vanilla with sprinkles, extra whipped cream.” Steve paused and looked at the two girls suspiciously, especially at El. “Wait a second,” he thought out loud, “are you even supposed to be here?”
The two girls giggled, and El said, “A pretty girl drove us here.”
The words ‘pretty’ and ‘girl’ caught Steve’s attention. Predictable. “Yeah?” he grinned, leaning forward as if asking for more details. “She still with you?”
“You know her, silly,” Max giggled before running off with El. On their way out, they both flashed you a thumbs up and mouthed, “good luck.”
You stepped inside Scoops Ahoy with a newfound confidence. It was definitely the dress, and you hope it paid off. When Steve caught sight of you, his eyes brightened up and flashed you his charming smile.
“Hey, stranger,” Steve greeted. “I see the girls made you their babysitter and chauffer.”
You tried not to let your smile falter when you didn’t get the reaction you hoped. You laughed, trying not to give off the fact that your confidence was quickly crumbling. “Yeah,” you said, “my shift ended early at the pool.”
“That’s great!” Steve cheered. “Listen, Dustin just caught Russians on his new radio thing, and we’re trying to translate it. Spy shit and all.”
You blinked. “Dustin’s back?”
“Yeah,” Steve nodded animatedly, “he’s at back with Robin translating the tape. Well, mostly Robin. Didn’t even know she’s amazing at languages.” He continued, keeping his excited energy, “She already knocked down a couple phrases. Isn’t that cool?”
Then it clicked.
Steve liked Robin.
Too late again.
“Listen, we can use your help because there’s this music at the end that I couldn’t remember where it came from,” Steve said. “Robin and Dustin say it’s stupid, but you can back me—”
“Um,” you breathed out. You cleared your throat, wondering why you started to get out of breath again. “I still have to drive the girls home before dark,” you said, gently turning him down.
“Oh.”
“Um, call me if you find something cool?” You didn’t wait for him to reply and turned your back on him. As soon as you left Scoops Ahoy, you pulled your inhaler out your pocket and took a blip, but it seemed to only make your lungs angrier and cramp even more.
As agreed upon earlier, you found the girls at the main doors of the mall, but they were in a heated conversation with Mike and the rest of his party. You sighed and quickly approached them before it turned into a full argument.
“I dump your ass!” El declared, making you stop in your steps. Lucas and Max were flabbergasted at the outburst, except Max looked somewhat proud. Mike just looked lost and was clearly at a loss for words. Will just looked uncomfortable enough to be witnessing the entire thing.
“Okay, that’s enough,” you interfered. “We’re leaving, come on.” You looked at Will who seemed to be the most aware among the boys at the moment. “You guys need a ride?”
He shook his head.
“You take care, okay?”
Will nodded.
The walk to your car between you and the girls was quiet. Though Max decided to break the silence when you pulled out of the mall compound. “What happened?” she asked.
You simply shrugged, ignoring the burning in your ribs from the simple motion. “Boys are dumb.” Then the car ride was silent again.
Later that evening, you laid in your bathtub in cold water, finally relaxing when you can breathe easily again. The summer heat fatigue really got you today, you thought. Suddenly remembering what you saw in the fitting room, you looked at your ribs again and was relieved when all you saw was nothing but your usual skin.
You were pulled back to your thoughts and remembered the beautiful sundress that was now laid discarded on the bathroom floor. You groaned at the memory of what just occurred this afternoon. You sighed and slid down to submerge the rest of yourself in the almost freezing water, leaving all your worries for the few seconds you had underwater.
Don’t be afraid. It’ll be over soon. Just stay… very… still.
You were scared. You couldn’t open your eyes, and the water suddenly felt too thick. The searing pain that was becoming too familiar in your lungs felt like it was begin to crawl out of your chest and into your throat.
But it was all gone in a split second.
Panicked and scared out of your wits, you immediately crawled your way out of the bathtub, not caring if you were curled up naked on the bathroom floor. You reached for the first thing you could grab to cover yourself, until you realised that it was still the same damn sundress. Suddenly, all the air just left your body, and you were starting to wonder if it was still an asthma attack.
You hoisted yourself up on the sink, both coughing and wheezing, trying to do everything you can to get yourself some oxygen.
“Sweetie? What’s going on?” the familiar voice of your mom came muffled from the other side of the door. When you replied with nothing but aggressive and painful coughs, the knocking became incessant, and her calls turned to worried cries. “Open the door!”
The same sensation of something crawling out of your throat came back. This time, you were more aware than your paralyzed state a few minutes ago. You stuck your fingers in your throat, feeling for any obstruction.
And you did.
With one forced cough, you were able to pinch out something smooth but foreign. You yanked it out, clenched it in your fist, and spat whatever fluid it brought out. You were initially worried that it was blood, but as you looked at the white ceramic of the bathroom sink, it was black.
When the bathroom door burst open, you quickly opened the faucet, flushing down whatever it was. Your mom rushed over to you and covered your hunched figure with a bath towel before pulling open the medicine cabinet behind the mirror to fish out your emergency inhaler.
“Come on, sweetie,” she carefully urged the inhaler in my mouth, pressing down to dispense a dose, but you could barely bury it down. “Let’s go to your room. You’re freezing.” She led me step by step to my bed and laid me under the covers, but the warm blankets only made me feel worse. “Your dad is coming with the nebulizer. Don’t worry. Just careful breaths.”
You didn’t remember how long it took for you to fall asleep that night, but you woke up the next day to your mom entering your room, already dressed in her office attire. She must’ve seen the panic on your face when you realised that it was way past your alarm.
“I called you in sick at the community pool,” your mom said. “Your dad will be picking you up after work to bring you to the hospital. In the meantime, just rest, okay?” She pressed a kiss on your forehead before she left the room, and you were alone again.
Then you felt the soft thing that you had in your fist the entire night. You raised your hand and held the foreign object over your head.
A black petal.
Panic bubbled up at the base of your spine, and you wasted no time in getting out of bed and getting dressed. You needed to tell Chief Hopper or Mrs. Byers. Or even just any one in Mike’s party.
And Steve.
Suddenly, it hit you. Dustin would still be around Steve decoding whatever Russian code they were on. The kid can easily call a code red for your situation. You grabbed your keys with the intent of going to Starcourt.
Just as you locked the front door, Max and El came rushing in their bikes, looking as alarmed as you are. They rushed to you, especially El who gave you a pleading look.
“It’s Billy.”
~
“As much as I appreciate you calling a grown up to investigate, this seems highly unnecessary.”
You were clearly uncomfortable as you turned the corner to Cherry Lane. You already gave them an earful when they admitted that they were spying on random people during their sleepover last night. Personally, you didn’t think that Heather would suddenly go for Billy when she just went on a date with someone else the other week, but maybe Billy was just that convincing.
“But the screams,” El reasoned.
“When Billy is alone with a girl, they make, like, really crazy noises,” Max argued, making you laugh at her words. Case in point.
“That’s surprising,” you noted. “I assumed that because he’s such an asshole he doesn’t…” you trailed off when you caught El’s clueless look from your rear-view mirror. “Never mind.”
“They scream?” El voiced out her confusion.
“Yeah, but, like… happy screams.” Then Max turned to you. “Oh, just that house right there.”
Your laughter came out in breathless snorts at this point. You pulled the car in park around the curb. “Okay, that’s enough,” you interrupted. “You don’t need to know about that yet, El.” You watched the house and hummed in thought. “His car’s not there. This’ll be easy.”
The three of you went inside the house and headed to his room. You knew that their family was very far from a loving one, but you tried to wrack your head for a reason as to why Billy’s bedroom door had a hinge lock from the outside. You barely had any thoughts about that little detail before Max pushed the door open.
“Why do I get the feeling we’re gonna find all sorts of wrong here?” Max said.
“Well, his tastes in music aren’t half bad,” you commented, flicking through his stack of cassette tapes by his stereo. You pulled open his bedside drawer and laughed at its contents. “Jackpot.”
Max rushed over to peek, only to see his collection of ‘printed ladies.’ “Ugh!” she exclaimed. “Gag me with a spoon.”
Then we heard El calling us from the bathroom.
We followed her to see empty ice packets around his tub. The unsettling feeling crept in again as you remember that you were also trying to keep yourself cold last night. But you weren’t the only one who was unsettled.
El, who was breathing heavily, stared off into the corner, and when Max and you followed her line of sight, there it was. Blood. You carefully opened the trash bin and pulled out a utility bag from Hawkins’ Community Pool.
“Let’s go.” You didn’t waste any time leaving the house and getting into the car.
Despite the darkening skies and thunder rumbling, you got there in record time. You ran to see a co-worker of your closing the pool area. Protocol. But he definitely wasn’t pleased to see you.
“Didn’t you call in sick?” he said, sounding annoyed. “You’re the second person to bail today.”
“Heather didn’t come in?” Max asked.
“Obviously. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be doing thi— Hey!”
The three of us ran back to the car to figure out what to do next.
“We can go back to my place,” you suggested. “Wait out until Heather comes home next door.” Then you remembered. “Shit,” you cursed, turning on your car before the girls agreed. “My dad is supposed to pick me up for a doctor’s appointment.”
Luckily, your dad wasn’t home yet when you got back. Probably due to the storm. However, the girls already had their own plans in mind when they walked over next door to the Holloway’s.
“Shit, shit, shit,” you hissed, jogging over to them. “Don’t go running off without me.” You looked at the now open front door. “Did you just unlock the door? This is trespassing!”
“She’s inside,” El whispered. She and Max entered the house, and you had no choice but to follow.
The three of you carefully treaded towards the voices in the dining room. There you found Billy with Mr. and Mrs. Holloway chatting away. The sight of your three by the hallway halted their conversation.
“Um, hey, Janet, Tom,” you greeted. “We tried to knock, but you probably didn’t hear us over the storm.”
“What on earth are you doing here?” Billy cut in, his eyes trained on Max and El.
“Where is she, Billy?” you asked firmly, staring straight into his eyes.
“Where is who?” Billy smiled innocently, but it didn’t give you any ease.
“Well, they’re a little burnt! I’m sorry.” Heather walked in from the kitchen, carrying a tray of cookies. “Oh, hey, girl! Is your shift over?”
“Heather!” Billy called. “This is my sister, Maxine.” He gestured to Max before his eyes landed on El. “I’m sorry. I did not quite catch your name.”
“El.” Eleven responded with her eyes pointedly trained on Billy.
“El,” Billy echoed, his polite smile turning into something menacing.
It definitely unnerved the three of us. Your hands held onto their shoulders and pulled them behind your back, leaving you to face Billy. “You guys weren’t at work, so we got worried,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.
“Heather wasn't feeling so hot today, so we thought we'd take the day off to nurse her back to health.” Billy turned to Heather. “But you’re feeling just fine right now. Aren’t you, Heather?”
“I’m feeling so much better,” Heather smiled, but there was something about it that didn’t seem right to you.
Max and El tugged at your hand. You looked at them to see them silently pleading at you with their eyes. You gave a brief shake of your head before turning back to Billy. “I’m sorry to disturb you,” you said carefully. “I’ll take the girls home.”
“Thank you for looking out for my sister and her… friend.”
You made sure that the girls walked ahead of you, and right before you passed the front door, Billy pulled you to him. You barely could get a noise out as he pressed his hand over your ribs.
“You’re one of us,” Billy whispered before he shoved you out and shut the door.
It all happened in a split second that the girls didn’t even notice the exchange. The fear stabbed you deep in the gut that you basically dragged them back to your house, forcing them not to look back. Only when you got inside your house that the tension released from your body but only just.
“I’m taking you guys home, and tomorrow, we’re meeting up with the party, okay?”
“You’re not going anywhere, young lady.”
You winced and found your dad staring you down with his arms crossed.
Damn it.
~
“As soon as we’re done here, you’re grounded for a week.”
You groaned and held back the urge to roll your eyes. You were in the hospital waiting area for your family physician, but because there were a handful of minor accidents because of the storm, the wait was a bit long, especially when you were not priority. It was fine during the first ten minutes, but after half an hour, you were starting to get cranky.
“I’m going to the restroom.”
Your dad made a move to get up, but you stopped him. “There’s literally a storm out there, and you drove me here,” you pointed out. “Where else can I go?”
Your dad just scoffed but leaned back in his seat, waving you off. “Bring me back a coffee then,” he said.
You walked down the hallway but turned to the payphones instead of the restrooms. You dialled in the number you were so familiar with and hoped that he’d be home by this time.
“Hello?” Steve’s voice rang through the speaker, sending relief through your body.
“Pick me up at the hospital,” you said.
“Wait, what?”
“Oh, and do it in half an hour.”
“There’s literally a storm outsi—”
“I’m also staying at your place tonight.”
“Hey! What is going—”
“Thanks, Harrington.”
Steve arrived at the hospital in twenty, still dressed in his sailor uniform. With your dad still busy with his coffee and a random medical pamphlet, you cocked your head to the side and sent Steve a signal where to wait while you made your escape. For the second time, you got up to your feet.
“I think I want a coffee actually,” you said. “Be right back, daddy.”
Your dad hummed, not even lifting his eyes from the pamphlet.
For a split second, your heart seized at the sight of your clueless father. You wanted to tell him and mom about the monsters and how they were this close to taking you, but they were better off not knowing. It wasn’t worth risking their lives when it could be just you.
With a heavy heart, you kissed the top of his head and walked down the hallway, heading for the exit and into Steve Harrington’s getaway car.
“Okay, but what the hell is going on?” Steve asked, pulling the car in drive.
You didn’t answer and just hugged your knees to your chest while crying silently. You’re one of us. You squeezed your eyes shut and tried to level your breathing, which now felt like such a laborious task. Now that you knew the truth, it was almost like you could feel it all inside you. Taking every piece of you.
You were quickly pulled out of your thoughts by a warm hand clasping yours. You raised your head and looked at Steve, who kept his eyes on the road, but continued to squeeze your hand. You managed to stop crying and thread your fingers through his and bask in his warmth.
You knew it was just temporary. You knew who he really liked. And as if the universe was aware of your feelings, they decided to cut the moment short by sending your chest squeezing and blocking your airways again. You dropped Steve’s hand and clutched at your chest as you exploded into another coughing fit.
Steve panicked and quickly glanced between you and the road. “What’s happening?” he asked frantically. “Should I take you back to the hospital?”
You violently shook your head. “N-no,” you managed to wheeze out. “Dr-drive.”
“Where’s your inhaler?” Steve asked to which you left unanswered.
Finally, you managed to cough out a chunk of something, freeing your airways. You quickly shoved it in your pockets without checking before Steve noticed it. You exhaled in relief and leaned back in his seat.
“It didn’t use to be that bad,” Steve pointed out.
“Yeah.”
“Was that why you were at the hospital?”
“Mm.”
“We should go back.”
“Doesn’t matter. We’re near your place anyway.”
By the time you got to Steve’s house, he rushed to his parents’ room to find you something to wear from his mom’s closet. “Go take a shower and warm up!” he called out from the second floor.
You dragged your feet into the downstairs bathroom and rinsed your mouth. As you spat out the water, swirls of blood and black goo circled around before disappearing down the drain. You pulled out the clump that you hid in your pocket and teared up at the sight of a fully formed flower.
It was cruel that something as hauntingly beautiful as this was killing you from the inside.
When you flipped the flower over, you noticed thin tendrils from where the stem should be. You were horrified that the tendrils were actually moving like tiny tentacles. It reminded you of that day when you were in the tunnels under the pumpkin farm.
Without any more thought, you dropped the flower in the sink. Remembering that they were susceptible to heat, you immediately turned on the faucet to its hottest setting. As the water hit the flower, your lungs were suddenly set on fire.
Out of instinct, you turned the faucet off, relieved that the flower immediately dried out and broke off into ashy flakes. The burning stopped as well but still lingered under your skin. Almost tripping over your own feet, you staggered over to the shower, stripping yourself of your drenched clothes and turning on the water to its coldest setting, and only then did you find relief.
You’re one of us.
It took over almost half an hour to compose yourself and figure out what to do from here on out. You put one of the fluffy robes in the bathroom and headed out to the living room where Steve was already lounging on one of the sofas, shirtless but with a towel hanging over his neck. He only seemed to notice your presence when the sofa dipped beside him under your weight.
“You okay?” Steve asked when you rested your head on his shoulder, not minding that his hair was still dripping wet. “Jesus, you’re freezing.” He moved to grab the throw blanket and pulled it over both of you then rubbed his hands on your arms to warm you up.
Meanwhile, you wrapped your hands around his waist and just closed your eyes at the sound of his heartbeat. You were mad that his was steady when you couldn’t even control the fast drumming of your own heart whenever you were near him. Still, you held Steve as if you were afraid to let go, as if he was your only reminder that you were still you. But why did it hurt, even physically, so much to hold on?
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Steve whispered, stroking the back of your head. “I don’t think we held each other like this since middle school,” he chuckled to himself at the memory. “When Vicki Carmichael took stole your partner for the Snow Ball and kissed him in front of everyone? You slept over and cried in my bed, telling me you hated her for it and me for going with Tammy Thompson.”
You wracked your head trying to remember what Steve was talking about. Maybe because it was a long day, but you couldn’t remember him holding you like this in middle school. Still, it must have been a beautiful memory if even Steve remembered it.
Sometimes it felt like you were the only one holding on so tightly in this relationship with him.
“Don’t you remember?”
You just hummed and snuggled closer to Steve.
“Okay, how about when Lewenski and I got into a fight because his girlfriend tripped you up and you skinned your knee pretty bad?”
This one, you remembered. “Your dad grounded you for a month, and you got benched for two games,” you chuckled softly.
“And you still cheered for me in the sidelines,” Steve said, sounding relieved that you were finally talking. After while a long pause, he said, “What happened? You used to tell me everything.” He continued, “I know I joke about it a lot, but I was really worried when you didn’t sign up with me at the mall. And you being sick all the time now?”
“Steve, just drop it,” you said, almost in a plea. “We’re okay. You never have to worry about me.”
Steve scoffed playfully. “That’s never going to happen,” he argued. “I’m always gonna worry about you. You don’t even notice how much trouble you get yourself into without realising.”
You tried not to think about it, but for the rest of that night in Steve’s arms, you almost felt like the vines were moving inside you, growing and taking up what was left of you that you haven’t already given to Steve.
~
“So, basically you’re a fugitive now?”
You chuckled and tiredly patted Dustin’s back. “Man, I missed you, kid,” you said. “And to answer your question, technically yes. I’m facing a lifetime of being grounded if I’m caught.”
“Let me get this straight,” Dustin began, his eyes trained on your plain black shirt that obviously belonged to Steve, “Steve snuck you out of the hospital, and you stayed in his house the entire night?” He leaned close to you. “And nothing happened?”
“Jesus, Dustin,” you wrinkled your nose at him. “People serve food here.” You gestured at the small cup of ice cream you were eating as breakfast slash brunch. Though you were wallowing your sorrows in cold, cold sweets, it did make you feel like a kid again.
“Steve is so stupid sometimes it amazes me,” Dustin thought out loud.
“I’m surprised you caught on. Seems like everyone in the world knows except him.”
“That’s because I’m me,” Dustin grinned proudly. “I bet the rest of the party doesn’t even know.”
“Who doesn’t know?” Steve entered the backroom with Robin in tow.
“Probably that you’re a dingus,” Robin snickered. Then her eyes trailed over to you. “So, we have another addition to the team,” she pointed out. “Who’s bringing her up to speed?”
“Dustin,” Steve said the same time that Dustin also said, “Me.”
Of course, it was Dustin.
While Dustin explained to you that the Russian military was most likely running a secret base right in the Starcourt Mall, you worried about El and Max, especially with not-Billy on the loose. Though they probably were already with the rest of the party right now and alerted Chief Hopper and Mrs. Byers. There was absolutely nothing to worry about.
Right?
“Got it?” Dustin finally said before narrowing his eyes at me. “Were you just zoning out the entire time?”
You snorted. “What do you take me for?”
“Fine, what did I just say?”
“Okay, I probably zoned out halfway through,” you admitted. “But your problem is pretty simple.”
Steve, Dustin, and Robin waited for you to continue.
“You just need the blueprints for the mall.”
“Why haven’t you called her the moment we were cracking the code?” Robin said, rushing outside and grabbing the tip jar. Ignoring Steve’s calls for her, she was off leaving us three at Scoops Ahoy.
~
“Touch my butt! I don’t care!”
“Can we keep it PG in here?” you frowned at the ridiculous show Steve and Dustin were putting by trying to get into the air ducts. “Just pull the boy down before someone gets hurt.”
“He can’t get hurt. He’s missing bones like Gumbo.”
“Like what?” you tilted your head.
“He means Gumby,” Dustin corrected, grabbing hold of Steve’s shoulders as he got hoisted out of the vent, “and that’s not how cleidocranial dysplasia works, Steve. I’m missing collarbones, not nerves.”
“Whatever,” Steve said. “We just need some else who could fit in there.”
Just as Steve said those words, Robin burst in the backroom, looking like she had an epiphany for the second time today. You were beginning to think she was the reason how Steve and Dustin had gotten this far. Behind her stood Lucas’ younger sister, Erica. Ah, the epiphany.
It only took the rest of the day of convincing her. The kid knew how to play hard ball. You’d give her that. She wouldn’t take anything less than ice cream for life. Frankly, you’d do the same.
You waited until the mall closed, though Robin and Steve cleared up Scoops Ahoy a few minutes early. So far, your parents were a no show, though you assumed that they didn’t think you would be hiding in the backroom of a very crowded mall. Frankly, they probably wouldn’t even believe you that you were infected with a monster from an alternate dimension and would rather help your friends with a Russian invasion than go to the hospital.
“Free ice cream for life,” Erica smirked smugly as soon as the thick sliding doors – actually odd for a simple storage room – slid open for us.
It didn’t take much snooping to find vats of glowing neon green vats of unknown substances hidden in regular delivery boxes. Without much thought, you grabbed one and made your way to the door. “Let’s just go before someone catches us.”
Again, the universe… just hated us.
“Uhh, which one do I press, Erica?” Dustin asked, insistently pressing the “OPEN” button.
Panic began to rise among all of us as mechanical whirring buzzed between the walls. Between that and the fact that we were trapped, we definitely knew we were screwed. While all of them fussed over the buttons that were no longer working, you stepped back, feeling something prickle under your skin.
“Just open the door!” Robin cried out, echoing into someone… something different.
Open the door.
Open the door!
Open the goddamn door!
Suddenly, you were on fire. You barely noticed your screams rising over everyone else’s. You fell to the floor, convulsing in agony as flashes of different people appeared in your head as if you were them. An old lady in a hospital bed, Heather, her parents, so many people who barely even knew in Hawkins… then Billy.
It was quiet with him. You saw flashes of a beautiful blonde woman calling out to him, her face concealed in a sunhat, then the beach with sand in between your toes. There was a moment of peace and tranquillity, and like someone playing a sick joke, you were in a dark place, standing in Billy’s place in front of people who were lifelessly standing still right in front of something. Something that you didn’t recognize but was so familiar to you, inside you.
He made me do it. It’s like a shadow, like a giant shadow. Please believe me, Max.
“Billy, it’s gonna be okay,” Max’s voice echoed in his head as if it were yours.
“It’s gonna be okay,” a different voice filtered through from all the noise.
“She’s unconscious. How is her inhaler going to help?” “I’m pretty sure that’s a seizure, nerd.” “Check for a pulse, Steve.”
Your consciousness fell right back on you like a pile of bricks. Your eyes fluttered open to see Steve hovering over you with your inhaler tucked between your lips. Once your eyes locked with his caramel ones, a huge wave of relief washed over his face as he pulled you into his arms.
“Oh, my God,” Steve gasped, clutching on to you for dear life. “Don’t scare me like that.”
“Get… out.”
Steve tensed and pulled away to look at you. “What?”
You weakly pulled up your – actually Steve’s shirt up to your ribs, revealing angry black veins that were now crawling over your torso. You cried out and clutched at you. “Get it out!”
“Holy sh– what the hell is that?!”
You rolled to the side and fell into a coughing fit, your back hunched over. Your nails clawed at your throat, feeling something trying to crawl itself out. Whatever happened somewhere in Hawkins pissed off the plants inside you, and you can feel them twisting and curling throughout your torso.
With much straining and the remaining oxygen in your lungs, you managed to pull out the parasite from your oesophagus. The action made Dustin and Robin gag in the corner, while Steve and Erica warily looked at the slithering vine with a fully bloomed flower you dropped on the floor, leaving a trail of blood and black goo.
“You guys, by any chance, have a lighter?” you panted, pressing your cheek against the cold metal floor for any cool relief you can take.
Silence told you no. You hoisted yourself up with much difficulty and leaned back into the crate then immediately had an idea. Albeit, a bad one. With shaky knees, you got on your feet and lifted the vat of green goo that rolled away when you dropped unconscious. You looked for the right twist to open the container when Dustin stopped you.
“What are you doing?”
“We have to kill it,” you said nonchalantly. “I mean, I could just drink this to get it over with, but I don’t want to die that quick.”
“Are you…?” Then Dustin’s eyes widened. “That day. You were… because you saved me.”
“Wait, wait, are any of you nerds explaining what’s going on?” Erica interrupted.
You sighed. “Monster,” you pointed at the vine. “Infected,” you pointed at yourself. “Must kill monster with something. Preferably fire.”
“You killed one of those before?” Robin asked.
“It was smaller last night,” you shrugged, finding the latch to open up the vat. “Hot water took care of that sucker easily.” Twisting the lid a certain way, it clicked and released. “Aha!” you exclaimed. “This is gonna hurt.” You eyed the goo apprehensively.
Then Steve snatched the lid and sealed back the vat. “There has got to be a way to do this without you in pain,” he said.
“We don’t have time, and we’re stuck here in a metal box with a monster crawling towards Erica’s sneaker!”
“Why are you yelling?!”
“I’m not yelling!” you shouted. Then you turned to Dustin with a much softer voice. “How did Will get rid of his the last time?”
“Space heaters, a lot of them,” Dustin answered. “Anything from the Upside Down hates the heat, including D’Art.”
“Well, we’re not waiting until you cough all the flowers out, so I say we dump you into a hot tub and crank the heat to full,” Steve suggested, keeping the vat out of reach. “Once we get out of here, of course.”
“Boiling her alive,” Dustin scoffed. “That’s genius, Steve.”
“Or,” Robin interrupted, “we just use the same space heaters. It worked before, so it might work again now.”
“Thank you,” you said, pointedly looking at Steve. “At least someone is trying not to kill m—” Suddenly, your lungs were set aflame as you dropped into a heap on the cold floor, convulsing in agony with your mouth open in an open scream. You briefly heard Erica speaking before ultimately passing out.
“What? You only kept one of that green acid away from us. At least the monster’s dead.”
After passing out for the second time that night, you seemed to be sleeping much longer, but when you woke up, it wasn’t much of a surprise to hear Dustin and Steve still bickering. You opened your eyes to see Steve’s legs hanging from the ceiling. Again, not a surprise.
Probably nothing else would surprise you at this point.
“Shh! Jesus Christ!” Steve hissed before disappearing entirely to the top of the elevator.
Now that spiked your curiosity.
Robin was preoccupied with Erica, and both of them didn’t even notice that you were awake. You sat up and climbed on the stacked boxes leading up to the opening on the elevator ceiling. The burning in your ribs and your shortness of your breath was easier to ignore now that you were too lightheaded to actually feel the discomfort. Still, you managed to poke your head out the opening, accidentally ending up eavesdropping.
“I heard you guys talking all night,” Dustin whispered to Steve before his eyes landed on you. He winced and shot you an apologetic look.
Steve turned and saw you by his feet, making him jump in surprise. “What are you doing up?!” he scolded. “You scared all of us last night. I thought Erica killed you.”
“Gee, your welcome!” Erica called out from inside.
“’Last night’? It’s morning?”
Dustin smiled emptily. “Yeah,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ve been trying to reach anyone on the radio since the mall is open. I think we’re too far down though.”
“Okay, take Dustin down with you please,” Steve said, facing the wall. “I’m gonna take a leak.”
“First of all, ew. Second, good morning,” you said, hopping back down with Dustin right behind you.
“This is one looong sleepover,” Steve called out before the sound of a stream hitting the ceiling echoed inside the elevator. “Two nights of being your personal pillow!”
“Two nights?” you muttered to yourself. “Was I with Steve the other night?” you turned to ask Dustin, who gave you a weird look.
“You stayed over his place, and he drove you to the mall, remember?”
“He did?”
“Hey!” Robin called out. “We have company.”
One fight with a Russian later, which Steve won – finally – you and the rest of the group snuck into the comms room of the secret Russian base and found out why your lungs had been reacting different once you walked further down that tunnel.
“The gate.”
You, Steve, and Dustin looked at each other in horror before turning back to the machine that was trying to pry open the gate that El had shut down last year. It was your first time seeing it, but the same dark familiarity was tugging from the deepest part of your mind. There was no reason to dwell on it, so you tugged Dustin and Steve, urging them to leave and quickly warn the others as soon as possible.
Unfortunately, leaving was harder than getting in. Guards were alerted, and all of us were sent into running. It ultimately sent us to the direction of the gate itself with Dustin almost running into the laser machine that was opening the gate if it wasn’t for you tugging the back of his shirt collar.
You didn’t like being that close to the gate. Between the soldiers yelling and Steve barking which way to run, a louder voice was whispering crystal clear voices inside your head. You surrendered to the voices for one second to try and understand what they were saying, which proved to be your mistake.
In that one second, you were teleported to an incredibly vivid memory of meeting Steve for the first time.
“Sweetie, say hi to Mrs. Harrington and Steve.”
Your hand curled into a fist on the hem of your mother’s dress. It wasn’t the first time you saw Steve Harrington. Your classmate pointed who Steve was when he passed you at the hallways of Hawkins’ Elementary. She boasted that her older sister was Steve’s “girl friend” after he kissed her during recess yesterday.
You didn’t know what any of that meant, but when you glanced at Steve Harrington, you thought he was the prettiest boy you ever seen. Steve Harrington was exactly what you imagined the princes looked like that your mother read to you at bedtime.
And now, you were at their front door because your mom worked with his mom, and Mrs. Harrington thought it would be nice to have her and you over for tea.
And Steve was still the prettiest boy you ever seen.
You were catatonic while staring up into the gate opening.
While the rest of the guards were chasing after Steve and the others, the scientists urged that the guards don’t touch you, seeing that your pupils had turned entirely black. Your exposed neck revealed raised veins that they could tell were black even under the dim, unsteady lighting in the lab.
Your blank state was finally broken when the Russians took you in a secluded room, further away from the gate. Your mind was wildly fuzzy as if you were in the middle of sinking badly in your own subconscious. You inner daze didn’t last long when the door opened again, and Steve and Robin were dragged in and also cuffed like you were.
“What happened to you there?” Steve said in a low tone. “You just froze.”
The soldier didn’t like the chit-chat and struck Steve across the face. The sound was loud enough to echo in the room that you winced upon impact. “No talking!” he spat in a thick accent. “Now, who do you work for?”
“I’m confused,” Steve said, trying to sound unphased from the hit. “Do I not talk or do I tell you who I work for?”
That earned him another hit.
~
“We have many stories of monsters from where I’m from.”
“So do we,” you groaned at the man pacing the room. “You’re not that special, dude.”
Robin and Steve were taken away over half an hour ago, mostly likely for their own interrogation. So far, on your end, this soldier has done nothing but talk your ear off about stories from where he grew up while you were strapped in an examination chair.
“I suppose you know about flowers that grow on lungs?” The surprised look on your face told him everything he needed to know. “No one knows where they come from,” he said, “… until now.” He leaned in close to you. “You are very important test subject.”
“Not for long,” you said spitefully. “I’m dying anyway.”
“Well, I suppose you will be buried in Russian soil by then,” he said, sending chills in your spine. “But now, I need to see the flowers itself.”
Your breathing quickened at the thought being sliced open.
But…
They wanted you alive enough to bring you to Russia. That meant…
“Steve!” Your eyes widened at the sight of him as they dragged him inside the room and dropped him in a heap on the floor. Your heart clenched at the blood streaked all over his mouth and his eye swollen shut. “What did you do to him?”
The soldier and the rest of the guards merely looked at you struggling from where you were restrained while Steve remained unresponsive on the floor. The soldier looked displeased at the results before him and barked out another order. Soon enough, Robin was also dragged inside the room, and similar to you, she was as distraught at the sight of him beaten up.
Then… they just left the three of you in the room alone.
“What do they want?” Robin asked. “We told them everything, and you’re the only one not strapped with us.”
You gulped. “They, uh, they know what’s wrong with me.”
That gained Steve’s attention. With much difficultly, he raised his head and slurred out, “They’re not taking you, and we’re getting out of here.”
“Right,” you snorted. “Unless you have a way of getting to those scissors and cutting yourselves free, I’m on the next flight to Russia by the end of the day.”
“Those morons. They left scissors here?” Steve scoffed.
“I think that if we move at the same time, we could get over there, and then maybe I could kick the table and knock them into your lap,” Robin said, her voice rising with desperation. “So, on the count of three, we’re gonna hop.”
You smiled as hope bubbled when they succeeded the first two swivels. But on the third, the chair legs slid, knocking them both on the floor. Robin, who had her back to you, began shaking. At first, you and Steve thought she was crying, until her quiet giggles turned into full-on laughter.
“I’m sorry,” Robin laughed, trying to contain herself, “but I just can’t believe I’m gonna die in a secret Russian base with Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington, while his girlfriend gets shipped off to another secret lab in Russia.”
“We’re not gonna die,” Steve huffed, “and she’s not my girlfriend, okay?”
“Gee, we’re tied up and have no hopes of escaping, and you choose to correct that?” you snarked at him.
There was a moment of quietness, mostly just to collect our wits, but Robin was the one to speak up again. She talked about Mrs. Click, our history teacher. Turns out she had been in the same class as Steve for the longest time, remembering every detail about him.
Just like you.
“Do you even remember me from that class?” Robin said, her voice lowering into a whisper. “It didn’t matter that you were an ass.”
And her next words just crushed you.
“I was still… obsessed with you.”
There was nothing else to do but watch as Steve’s eyes — well, eye — softened. In that moment, you felt like you were in someone else’s moment, just an audience. But wasn’t that what you always have been in Steve’s life?
“You know, I wish I’d known you in Click’s class,” Steve said, a fond smile growing on his lips. “Maybe instead of being here, I’d be on my way to college right now.”
Last semester, you wrote two of his history papers just so his grades would be high enough for him to play during the basketball playoffs.
“And I would have no idea that there were evil Russians beneath our feet,” Robin chuckled, “and I would be happily slinging ice cream with some other schmuck.”
“Gotta say, though, I liked being your schmuck.”
And there it was…
The burning in your lungs intensified, sending you in a painful fit of coughs. It was hard enough not to curl over because of the restraints on your chest. There was no way to claw at your throat or to grasp at your chest from the twisting pain.
You were too engrossed in trying not to choke from blood and black goo that you didn’t notice the door open. A different scientist came in, this time more sinister-looking, and leaned over you. “I knew it,” he smiled. “He feeds the flowers inside you.”
“W-wha…?” you managed to gasp out. “P-please… can’t… br-brea-eathe… In.... inhal-er.”
In the midst of the black spots tinting your vision, you barely made out a jet injector and something bright blue before you heard Steve yell out and everything went dark.
“… up. Wake up!”
You opened your eyes to see Dustin’s face. “Am I dreaming?”
“Come on! We have to go!”
You were so groggy that you followed Erica and Dustin to a hijacked mini-truck with Steve and Robin giggling along. Both their antics only heightened when we finally ascended back up to the mall. Steve couldn’t stop booping Dustin, while Robin was saying stuff about food and death.
“Did they give you something too?” Erica asked me.
“They probably took something instead,” you rasped out, feeling your throat. “They baited one out and pulled it out while I was trying not to choke to death.”
“Where is it now?” Dustin turned to me, smacking away Steve’s finger from booping his nose again.
“How the hell should I know? I was tied up!” you scowled at him.
“We just saved your asses!” Erica and Dustin chimed back at your tone.
The bickering didn’t end until you were all forced to be quiet as you hid in a cinema that was showing ‘Back to the Future.’ Once upon a time, it seemed to be a fun movie to watch with the kids, maybe even with El, but now, you could barely keep your knees from fidgeting as your eyes constantly watched between Michael J. Fox and the cinema doors for any evil Russians.
It wasn’t long when your lungs began burning again. You didn’t feel the need to cough this time, but it didn’t stop for a metallic taste bursting in your mouth. You grabbed an empty popcorn bag nearby and spat into the paper. Even under the dark theatre, you could see that it was mostly blood now.
You were out of time.
~
“Jesus, you look far worse than El.”
You shot Max a very unfriendly look. “The girl who just pulled a monster out of her leg using your mind powers?” You glanced at El who was cuddled up with Chief Hopper while Mrs. Byers attended to the open wound on her leg.
“Well, both you are bleeding out of your noses, and you are also growing monsters inside you.”
“ERICA!” you screeched while furiously wiping your nose.
“Just the facts!”
“What?!” Everyone else in the party, including the adults, chorused.
“You’re dying,” Will said as if he could still tell. He gave you a look of empathy and a little bit of familiarity. You knew he went through a similar thing last year, and it somehow made you less scared that he was here with you.
You nodded solemnly. “I don’t have much time,” you admitted. “It grows faster the closer I am to the gate… or when I feed it.”
“’Feed it’?” Max asked.
“We don’t have to talk about that,” you waved her off. At this point, you were just desperate to stay alive. All of you were so, so close. “If we close the gate, we can cut off all connections, right?”
“Theoretically,” Lucas added.
Since there was no other option but that, we all based our plan on that ‘theory.’ A man named Murray, who also got into a tiff with Erica, came in with a map of the underground Russian base from a guy named Alexei. With the goals in place, everyone began splitting off into groups.
“You’re coming with us, right?” Steve asked.
You bit your lip as you shook your head. “I’m staying with the girls,” you said. “You go with Dustin and Robin to Cerebro.” At the sight of his worried look, you added, “I’ll be okay.”
Steve shot you a scowl. “Don’t die without me.”
“Hard promise to keep,” you smirked, smacking his hand away from ruffling your already messy hair. Your fingers tangled with Steve’s, and he ended up holding your hand completely. “Don’t die first, Steven.”
Steve chuckled and was about to pull away when you tugged his hand back.
“Hey, Steve.”
“Yeah?”
“I know you and Robin…”
When you trailed off, Steve raised his brows at you, urging you to continue.
You shook your head, waving it off. “You guys just got drugged,” you reminded him. “Drive safely.”
“You say that as if I don’t have any experience from partying.”
“That isn’t comforting at the very least.” Then... you let go.
~
Turns out that it wasn’t just the gate that was triggering the growth.
When the Spider Monster burst through the glass ceiling for Starcourt Mall, the flowers in your lungs reacted the same way when Billy had grabbed you at the Holloway’s. It was one thing to lead the monster away from El, but it was another thing to be hunched in the trunk space of the Wheeler’s hatchback with said monster chasing you down the road.
“The answer to a never-ending story…”
You laughed at the song number from the radio in between coughs. “That definitely takes the sting out of dying,” you said. You can only imagine Erica’s face during this whole ordeal.
“Don’t say that.”
You looked at Steve in deadpan. You kept eye contact as you spat blood and body matter into an empty soda cup you found discarded in the car. It was a low-blow towards him, you knew that, and he didn’t deserve it.
But you were so tired, and you were so mad at yourself for always being late, for being cowardly.
So, when Jonathan turned the car to follow the Spider Monster that turned back to the mall, you immediately hopped off and went looking for El instead of going with them to set off the fireworks. Steve, as expected, put up a fight, insisting that you all stick together.
“I won’t go near it,” you reasoned. “I’m finding El and getting her out of here, while you keep it distracted.” When he looked unconvinced, you added, “The fireworks will also distract Billy. It’s going to be okay.”
“That isn’t comforting at the very least,” Steve said, making you laugh at your early words being thrown back at you.
“Hey!”
You turned to see Nancy Wheeler toss a bundle of fireworks at you. At your raised brow, she shrugged, “Just in case.”
Following a broken gate not too far from where Steve rammed Billy’s car, you found an employee’s corridor where Max and Mike passed out nearby with angry bruises on their faces. You rushed over for Max and shook her awake. Her eyes immediately shot open.
“Billy, it was Billy,” Max said, panicked. “He took El. You have to go. I’ll take care of Mike. Go!” She staggered to her feet, gripping the pipes for stability.
“I can’t go near him or that thing.” You hesitated leaving Max, but when she yelled at you again to go for El, you turned your feet and broke off into a run. Then the fireworks began…
“Fuck!” you screamed, falling to your knees. Every corner of your body was set ablaze. You cried out as the flowers inside you constricted with every blast.
Max and Mike quickly caught up to you, pulling you to your feet. Suddenly, it was quiet, and a wave of calm washed over you. You saw a beautiful woman in a sundress and a hat by the beach. It wasn’t your memory, but it was being returned to someone after being taken away. Billy.
“She was pretty,” you could hear El cry in your head. “She was really pretty.”
Taking advantage of the situation, you sped through the corridor and into the mall. You found Billy beginning to stand up to the Spider Monster. “When I make a run for it, you grab El and get her out of here, okay?”
“What? You just said you can’t face that thing!” Mike told you.
“Just do it!” You pushed your feet as fast as you could to face the monster.
“No!” Billy roared, grabbing the monster’s tentacle mouth to stop it from reaching El.
Seeing your opportunity, you quickly pulled the taped matchstick from the bundle and ignited the fireworks. Swinging your arm back, you flung it as hard as you could into the monster’s mouth. Right as soon as the explosive left your hand, you caught incoming smaller tentacles headed for Billy’s side, slinging two of them to your side from the crook of your elbow.
“I got you,” you said out of breath, seeing Billy’s surprised face. However, your fight had the monster targeting you, sending two other tendrils to your side instead. You barely felt it, even as its sharp tongue stabbed into your abdomen.
Touching the Spider Monster was as worse as looking straight into the Gate. You cried out as flashes of memories of you and Steve, growing up through the years, bombarded you, while the flowers inside you began crawling outside your ribs instead. You barely heard the last firework go off as you felt the vines throbbing under your skin.
An arm wrapped around your waist and pulled your unmoving feet, dragging you away. Your spotted, blurred vision could only see a head of dark blonde curls with a massive dark mass in the background screeching in agony.
“It’s over. It's supposed to be over!" you heard Max’s muffled voice say. “What’s wrong with her?!” You felt hands on your shoulder, shaking you to snap out of it.
“Steve,” you breathed out. You tried to focus on Max, but with a blink, you were trapped back in your memories. Steve telling you to go home every time as he led a different girl up the stairs to his room. Steve dropping you off while thanking you for picking out a gift for Nancy. Watching him smile ever so fondly at Robin. Seeing the smile that you so desperately desired every time.
All the memories of Steve breaking your heart, you felt all at once.
You continued to unconsciously call out Steve’s name. Even when the paramedics began wheeling you out in a stretcher. You vaguely saw them cutting your shirt open, exposing the gore that was concealed by the fabric.
The black vines had reached out on the surface of your skin. The outline of your ribs was exposed, threading black and purple angry bruises over your torso. The right side of your ribcage had completely sank, one rib twisting outwards and leaking a mix of blood and black goo. The damage was extensive, but the monster you grew and fed inside you seemed to be finally lying still, only remaining dormant once the gate was sealed once again.
“… -eral broken ribs and possible internal bleeding!” a paramedic called. “One of her lungs has collapsed. She's in shock!”
Then Steve was there. You couldn’t tell if it was a memory or if it was happening at that moment. He was struggling against two firemen, trying to get to you with one hand reaching out. With the last bit of energy left, you raised your hand, reaching out towards him too.
“Steve…”
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ally-holmes · 2 years
Text
Regular Customer | Steve Harrington x Reader (ch.1)
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Series Masterlist.
Chapter Two.
Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader|plus-sized!reader|nerd!reader
Word count: 2876
Regular Customer | Chapter One.
"There she comes," Robin pointed out with a wink.
Sighing, Steve busied himself behind the counter at Family Video.
The door opened and a regular customer walked in with her tapes in hand and a big smile on her face. She made a beeline to the counter.
"Hi, Steve. Hi Robin," she greeted cheerfully.
"Hey, Y/N. What are you looking for today?" Steve answered business-like.
"Is there something new available?"
"You're lucky you came early on a Friday. Maybe Robin could find something for you—"
"Sorry!! I'm busy!!" Robin disappeared, leaving Steve alone.
Y/N smiled at him again with awkwardness. She had a crush on him. Hard. She'd had it since her first year in high school; he waited for Nancy Wheeler outside all the classes Y/N shared with her. Y/N liked to daydream about being Steve Harrington's girlfriend and being the one he was waiting for. She was nothing like Nancy, though, and all the time Steve was a high schooler, Y/N never talked to him too, afraid of blushing like an idiot humiliating herself.
She wasn't the kind of girl Steve looked at twice. She was a nerd, big-sized and quiet with shyness. Once she was comfortable with someone, she seemed like another person, witted and sardonic. Her self-esteem wasn't great, it never was, but the moment she entered the Hellfire Club of Eddie Munson she found a way to be her true self even in awkward situations.
Eddie had been her best friend. Her only true friend. She liked to think that she had a strong friendship with the Hellfire members, but the truth is that that friendship was pretty superficial. Eddie was different. He encouraged her. He challenged her. He pushed her to be better, and she did the same for him. To Eddie, Y/N was the kind of friend to go to if he needed to hide a body or if someday he got abducted by the aliens; she would believe him and support him no matter what. To Y/N, he was the same.
When in the summer of 1985 Steve Harrington worked in Scoops Ahoy, Eddie was the one who drove Y/N to the mall to take a glance at the boy in that ridiculous uniform. He encouraged her to go there and talk to him, but she was too shy to do it, even as a client. She never got to talk to him that summer, but she bought ice cream when Robin was working alone and they clicked.
For a second, Y/N thought that Robin and Steve were in a relationship, but the girl assured her that was never going to happen and once they started working in Family Video Y/N found it easy to talk to Steve now that she knew Robin, too.
"Umm… what about this one?" Steve asked, waving a tape in front of her. She scrunched her nose in distaste.
"Nope. I saw it in the theater, it was boring."
"Sure. How about this one?"
"You don't know much about movies to be working here, do you?"
"Again with your criticism, Y/N. I don't have as much free time as you do if you rent a movie every day."
"Are you worried about my grades, Steve?"
"As if! Aren't you some kind of genius?"
"You could say that."
"Henderson wants to dissect your brain or something."
"I hope he doesn't. I like my brain where it is."
Steve gave her a polite smile, pursued his lips, and grabbed another tape without looking.
"Next Friday is the big Hellfire finale. The big campaign will be over." She took the tape and followed him to the counter.
"What does that have to do with me?"
"Idiot," she smiled, blushing slightly. "I was telling you because of Dustin's ride arrangements."
"Those kids are going to be the death of me. I'm not their babysitter!"
"You sure?" She asked with a naughty sparkle in her eyes.
"Whatever. You drive him."
"You two seem like a couple of divorce parents making schedule arrangements," Robin laughed.
Y/N bit her bottom lip looking away while Steve rolled his eyes at his friend's input. Once the renting transaction was done there was an awkward pause in silence until Y/N smiled again, her eyes not leaving Steve's, and waved her goodbyes with the new tape in her hands.
Steve sighed again, watching her get into her car. Robin smiled openly at him.
"Not a word." He warned.
"I think you should give her a shot."
They walked into the back room, too busy with their teasing to notice how she had reentered the store. She'd decided to bite the bullet and ask Steve out once and for all. She'd been going daily since September and she'd seen him flirting with hot and cute girls. Nothing more than a few flings, so maybe she had a chance; perhaps he believed she was dating Eddie as most people assumed. Of course, she actually believed he wasn't interested in her, but that day she had decided to just ask and stop this nonsense.
She followed them, ready to talk when she heard her name being said. It wasn't polite to overhear conversations, but she was curious. Of course, we all know what people say about curiosity…
"Y/N has a big fat crush on you. She comes here every day, smiles at you, looks at you with such a puppy face… Come on! Don't tell me you haven't thought about it, Steve."
"She's not my type. She's in a club with Dustin and Eddie 'the freak' Munson, you can't tell me that's a catch."
"You cannot seriously be talking like you're still a high school boy. You just said that your dating life sucked. You want someone to have a serious relationship with and it's not working. Well, it might not be working because you aren't giving the chance to the right girl."
"If you like her so much, why don't you date her?"
"Please, don't be ridiculous. Now, seriously, why don't you like her?"
"I don't know! Look, do you think I enjoy seeing her making a fool of herself coming here every day with her smiles and her sparkling eyes? It makes me uncomfortable speaking to her like that. I know that she likes me, even Dustin is trying to set us up, but I just can't. I think it would be rude of me to go on a date with her, give her hope, just to–"
"Not calling for a second date."
"Yeah. She's great, and I'm sure we could be friends, but nothing else."
"Okay, but maybe you give her that chance and a pity date turns out to be the first date with your future wife."
"Robin, leave it! I do not like Y/N and I never will. If you think a random pity date could show us our future wife, why don't you try and ask her out?"
"It's not the same, Steve."
"Well, you don't know if she likes… you know… boobies."
"Ew! Don't say boobies!"
"You know what I mean! There are people who like both. Maybe she does! She's friends with the freak, she has to be a little freak to do so."
"Are you calling me a freak too?"
"You know what I mean, Robin. So, would you?"
"Would I what?"
"Have a pity date with her."
"No. But that's different. She doesn't have a crush on me."
"And if she did? Hypothetically."
After a long pause, Robin finally said "I don't think so. She's not my type."
"There you go. Now you get what I mean with…"
Y/N decided that was her cue to leave the store before being found. When she returned the tape the next day, her smile was fake and gloomy. Her eyes were sad, and she talked at the bare minimum. She thought about waiting for the last day of rent to give it back, but she knew that that kind of behavior would provoke questions that she didn't want to answer. She rented The Goonies, again, and left.
"What's wrong with her?" Robin asked, shocked.
"She looked bad."
"Maybe she was sick."
"Maybe…"
Robin only worked at Family Video Fridays and Saturdays during the school year. Therefore, Steve was alone at the store when Y/N went back on Wednesday. He found it odd when she didn't show up on Monday to return the movie, and on Thursday he asked Dustin if he knew something, but he vaguely answered that she seemed sick.
"Hey!" Steve greeted her with overflowing joy. It sounded fake.
"Hi. I'll take Rocky Horror and Invasion of the Body Snatchers."
"Sure. Yeah! Um… I have a copy of Rocky Horror to restock right here," he smiled at her, waving the tape. That would usually earn him a smile, but this time the smile was thin, barely there. She wasn't looking at his eyes like normally. "Right. The other one is in the sci-fi corridor. Keith says you're the only one renting it, he's thinking of putting it in the for sale section."
She nodded, but didn't say a word.
Steve ran a hand through his hair anxiously. He had no idea what to do or how to treat her if she wasn't responsive to his words. Y/N seemed completely different; she seemed down. Steve covered the space between the counter and the sci-fi corridor in long strides, snatched the movie from its place, and went back with his most charming smile painted on his face. He felt ridiculous.
"Here it is. You have five days to give them back."
"I'll return them on Saturday."
Before he could ask why, she had left, leaving the rental money on the counter. He felt a bittersweet rash wash over him.
Y/N watched those movies with Eddie at her house. She was the Harringtons' neighbor. Her family had money and her dad was on business trips more often than not. When she was little, her mother stayed with her, but the day she started high school everything changed. Y/N parents trusted her and thought that she was mature enough to be left alone. Therefore, on every business trip her dad had, he convinced his wife to go with him. If Mrs. Harrington went with her husband because she didn't trust him, Y/N parents didn't have that issue. They loved each other with such passion it was uncomfortable to be around them. It was lonely, sometimes, having a big house for herself, but Eddie used to make her company crashing in their guests' room if needed.
"Do I have to break Harrington's legs?" Eddie was worried about her depressed state.
"Dustin would be sad."
"I told you Henderson was high when talking about King Steve. There's no way he's a cool dude."
"He could've called me on my bullshit the first time. I don't think Steve wants me to feel bad about having an unrequited crush on him."
"Does he has any flaws? All you do is defend him."
"I give him the benefit of the doubt. I don't think Dustin Henderson is bad at reading people, he likes you, doesn't he?"
"Oh, Y/N, you're going soft on me."
"I'm just tired. I want to get over this stupid crush as soon as possible. The last thing I want is to make him uncomfortable. It's been too long, I'm too old to behave like this."
"And in a few months, you would be far away from here in a geniuses university, won't you?"
"I'll take you with me."
"That's presumptuous. Maybe I don't want to go."
"I don't care. I'll kidnap you."
"Then my future is sealed."
She hugged him and he kissed her head. Y/N was ready to just move on from Steve Harrington.
On Friday, Dustin and Mike had the audacity of asking Eddie for a postponement of the Cult of Vecna because Sinclair had his big basketball game. Eddie went all drama queen on them, making Y/N chuckle.
"Y/N!" Robin shouted, running towards her in her band attire.
"Looking good, Robin."
"Green is not really my color. I'm on my way to the gym."
"I thought so. I have the Hellfire campaign." She pointed the other way.
"Do you have a free place in your car? Steve has a date tonight and he can't drive me back home."
"No problem. Have fun with your trumpet."
"You too with your witch." Robin started walking backward.
"I'm a paladin," Y/N responded laughing, wincing when she saw Robin tripping, again.
The campaign was amazing. Erica Sinclair was a ferocious little woman and with so much sass that Y/N was sure Eddie was ready to make her an official member of the club, even if she was still a middle schooler. They got to destroy Vecna thanks to Lady Applejack.
"Hey, Y/N. I have some business to attend to," he winked at her, "drive safe home."
"You too, Eddie."
Getting out of the auditorium, the party was high on their triumph.
"Could you drive me home too?" Mike asked Y/N without looking her in the eyes. "I have to be home early."
"No problemo, my friend." Y/N intertwined her arm with his walking towards her car. "I heard that you have a plane to catch. Are you excited to go to California?"
Mike Wheeler was always shy; when Y/N talked directly to him, he sometimes blushed and laughed nervously.
"He's dying to visit his girlfriend," Dustin answered with a big smile.
"You boys and your girlfriends. Aren't you too young to date?"
"No, mom. Shut up," Dustin kept playing, intertwining his arm with Y/N's free one. "Plus, my Suzy is much better."
"So I heard. An A in Latin, huh?"
"You told her?" He accused Mike.
"It wasn't intentional!"
Truth is, he found her in the corridors after lunch in his search for a sub for Lucas, and she asked him about his grades. Mike panicked, as he usually did in front of her or Eddie, and he told her about how Dustin had made his girlfriend change his grades.
"Anyway. How long have you and Eddie been dating?" Erica asked her bluntly when they were next to the car.
Y/N laughed, "We're not dating. It's a common mistake."
"You could have fooled me," the kid deadpanned.
"We've been trying to make them date, but Y/N has a crush on Steve," Mike blurted out.
"Wheeler!"
"Why Steve?" Erica asked.
"Oh my God! Could we maybe not?" Y/N looked around, hoping the people surrounding them were too busy to pay attention to what they were talking about.
"I think Eddie is better than Steve for you," Mike claimed.
"Steve isn't a bad option," Dusting defended.
The boys started a discussion trying to figure out who was a better catch to Y/N. Erica, not wanting to participate in the nonsense, got into the backseat of the car.
"Robin! Hey guys, it's Robin! Robin Buckley! Hi! Hello!" Y/N shouted, begging all the ancient gods that Robin hadn't listened to the kids' discussion. She seemed oblivious.
"We could go now. Hi Erica. Your brother made us win the game. It was a good game and…" She kept talking about the game as they entered the car and Y/N started to drive it away. Then she saw them. Steve and a very beautiful girl walking toward his car. Robin was quiet for a moment uncertain of what to say. "Steve had told me that you seemed off the other day. Are you feeling better?"
"Peachy."
"Told you. Eddie's better," Mike whispered to Dustin in the backseat.
Before Robin could ask what he meant, Y/N turned on the radio.
The Harringtons' house was dark when Y/N parked in her own dark home. Those houses seemed bigger with emptiness. She started the kettle to make herself a good tea with honey and maybe rewatch Invasion of the Body Snatchers before going to sleep. Everything was set, she was in her pajamas and ready to enjoy her movie when something hit her backdoor repeatedly. The door was made of glass giving a perfect view of the pool and the wood, and, at that moment, a very distressed Eddie Munson. She opened the door in a rush asking him what had happened. After a few crazy mumbles, Eddie finally said something unbelievable, something that only her could believe.
"We'll figure it out."
"What do you mean we'll figure it out? Chrissy is dead in my trailer! I'm going to be hunted!!"
"I won't allow it. Eddie– Eddie, I need you to trust me. Do you trust me?" He nodded. "Good. You're going to be hidden here. I'm having some ideas… Do you mind staying in the basement?"
"You kidding? Your basement is better than my place. I didn't do it."
"I know, Eddie. I believe you."
"How can you believe me?"
"Because it's you. You would never hurt anybody. Hey… Hey, look at me, Eddie," Y/N held his face between her hands. "I'm going to protect you. You're safe here. I'll keep you safe."
To be continued...
507 notes · View notes
dwobbitfromtheshire · 3 months
Text
Stuck Between a Jock and a Metalhead
Summary: Nancy, on a whim, decides to visit Steve at Scoops Ahoy, which leads to her overhearing confessions from Steve that leads her to think about the decisions she's made. A few days later, she decides to come back. She finds him being hit on by the town freak. What's a girl to do? Oh, get stuck in a freezer with the both of them.
@nightmareglitter
Warning: Very Anti Billy Hargrove. Lucas talks about his feelings on the subject like he deserves, too. Angst all around as the kids talk about their feelings.
Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six - Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight - Chapter Nine - Chapter Ten - Chapter Eleven - Chapter Twelve - Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Nancy paced in front of her boyfriends and Robin nervously. The piles of notebooks on the table seemed to be staring at her. They all stood in Steve's mostly clean apartment. There was still a lot of work that needed to be done, like getting a new AC unit and appliances for the kitchen as well as new furniture. In order to do all that, Steve needed a new job. He was managing to cover most of it with the compensation money, but most of it was going towards the furniture. Steve was going to have pay for the AC unit and things for the salon downstairs, which meant getting a job, something he was looking for with Robin.
"Whatcha thinking about, Nancy?" Eddie asked.
"Steve," Nancy replied.
"Aww. Me too. He is looking particularly handsome today," Eddie cooed at him. "Look at those pretty pink lips. I think somebody put on their lip gloss today. Our boyfriend is insanely hot. Stop it, Steven. Distracting Nancy like that. Can't you see she's trying to think?"
"I'm sorry. Next time, I'll put a bag over my head," Steve said sarcastically.
"Well, that's a bit dramatic, but now you're thinking ahead, baby," Eddie said.
"No," Nancy laughed. "I was trying to stop myself from overthinking this whole thing with the kids, so I started thinking about the things that need to get done around here."
"Did it help?" Robin asked.
"I don't think so. Do you think we're doing the right thing here? What if they hate us?" Nancy asked.
"I think what they're going to see is us trying our best to help them get through this," Steve said. "They're probably going to be little assholes about it at first, but they'll come to their senses."
"I hope you're right," Nancy said.
"You're doing the right thing, Nancy," Eddie said. "These kids need people to talk to."
Before they could say anything else, they heard the sounds of footsteps, and then there was a knock on the door. Nancy opened it, and one by one, the kids came in. The only one who was missing was Max.
"No Max?" Nancy asked Lucas.
"Uh, Billy's dad skipped down, so she's helping her mother pack up," Lucas said. "They're moving to Forest Hills."
"That is where we live," El said and smiled before frowning.
"Yeah, kiddo," Eddie said. "Don't feel bad about being excited about seeing your friend more. You're allowed to be happy."
"Okay," El said softly.
"It's going to be right across from you guys. Your uncle is helping them," Lucas said and paused. "Even if that wasn't the case, I'm not sure Max wants to see any of us right now."
"That's understandable," Nancy said.
"Why have thoust summoned a council meeting, milady?" Dustin asked.
"I can see why he's your favorite," Nancy heard Eddie whisper to Steve.
"I thought we should touch base and see how everyone is holding up. We went through a lot of shit recently, and I know it hasn't been easy for me. I just wanted to let everyone know that we're here for you if you need to talk about anything. This is a safe space," Nancy said.
"I'm fine," Mike shrugged.
"You're fine?!" Eddie asked, his eyebrows raised. "Nancy, I think your brother might be a psychopath. I am so sorry you had to find out like this."
"Okay, you don't have to talk about it, but there's no way you came out of it fine," Nancy said, rolling her eyes and ignoring her boyfriend.
"Okay, I don't want to talk about it," Mike said.
"That's okay. Like I said, no one has to talk. We're going to talk, and if someone wants to speak up afterward, then that's okay too," Nancy said.
"I'll go first," Steve said.
"Are you sure?" Nancy asked.
"Yeah," Steve said. "You know, most of the time, I can't sleep now. It was bad before, but never this bad. I lay awake, wondering if the Russians are going to break into my house and come for me or if they're going to come for Dustin and Robin. . . Just everyone I care about. And when I can't go back to sleep from the most God awful nightmare, I go out in my car and drive down everyone's street, just to make sure you guys are safe. And the nightmares. . . I dream that they come for me, and they take me away to a dark place where they take me apart piece by piece. Sometimes, it's the Russians. Sometimes, it's a demogorgon, and sometimes, it's my parents. When I wake up, I have to go out and make sure we're all still here."
"Holy shit, Steve," Eddie muttered and placed a comforting hand on his back, leaning heavily against him.
"I don't know how to make it all better except when I see all of you guys again, and I know you're safe," Steve said. "I know I complain a lot about doing things for you guys, but the truth is I love doing them. You're my family, and my biggest fear is that something will happen to you. I can't let that happen," Steve said.
Dustin suddenly threw himself into Steve’s arms, hugging him tightly.
"It's my fault you got hurt, Steve," Dustin said, sniffling. "I should have left the Russian transmission alone, and you wouldn't have gone down there."
"That's dumb, I made my own choice to go down there, and if we hadn't gone down there, then the others wouldn't have known where to go to shut off the machines," Steve said.
"Hopper died," Dustin sobbed.
"He made his own choice, too," Steve said softly. "He chose to save Hawkins. We wouldn't have made it out of a lot of situations without you."
"Yeah, but we wouldn't have gotten into certain situations if it hadn't been for me like when I tried to keep Dart. What if he had killed my mom and not my cat?" Dustin asked.
"But he didn't," Steve said.
"Sometimes, I have nightmares about him eating mom, my friends, and you. Now, I also dream about the Russians hurting my older brother," Dustin said. "I don't know what I would do if you died because me."
"You are not responsible for what happened. The Russians are and the mad scientist who started all of this," Steve said softly and clutched him tightly to his chest.
"I know it doesn't look like it, but I question myself all the time, and I wonder if I'm making the right decisions," Dustin said.
"We all do that, Dustin," Nancy said softly. "You're not alone in that."
"Even you?" Dustin sniffled.
"Especially me," Nancy said. "I've made decisions that could have the cost the lives of this entire town. I know what it's like to feel responsible for the decisions you've made. The minute you realized that you messed up with Dart, you tried to fix it. I mean, you did it by yourself, and he ended up escaping, but you did try. You ended up reaching out for help, and in doing so, you got a big brother out of it. Sometimes, the only thing you can do is take responsibility and do better rather than stewing in the regret of the decisions you've made. It took me a while to even realize that I messed up. Even longer than you. I still feel like I have so much to make up for. You're not alone in feeling like that, and you're not alone in feeling like everything is your fault either. Just because you were responsible for one thing doesn't mean that you're responsible for another."
Dustin moved from Steve’s arms to Nancy's and hugged her tightly. Nancy sighed and removed his hat to kiss the top of his curls. She put his hat back on his head and pinched his cheeks. Dustin scowled and sat back down. He cracked a smile as he adjusted his hat.
"I feel small," Robin blurted out. "Like, I saw everything, and I just felt so much smaller now that I know what's out there. I just feel like everything in my life doesn't matter, or at least that's what I think, but then it's like maybe it matters even more now, to live your life the way you want to without anyone's expectations bringing you down. Just when I think that I'm going to do that, the feeling of being small comes back, and I think about all those people stuffed inside that fucking monster. It honestly scares me that your life can just be snuffed out like that. If that makes sense."
"It does. On one hand, you want to be true to yourself, but on the other hand, you're afraid that your truth might scare the people you care about most away," Will said. "Even if you know that they wouldn't care, there's still this irrational fear that they might be carrying that secret like the secret you carry."
"Exactly," Robin agreed.
"And at the end of the day, you have to risk trusting them because you want the people in your life to know you," Mike said. "Because you never know, they might understand more than you think."
"And you just have to decide if they're worth the risk," Robin said, smiling at Steve. "It's all about perspective."
For several moments, no one said anything until Lucas started sniffling and shaking his leg.
"What's up, Lucas?" Steve asked.
"I just - no, it's too awful," Lucas sniffed.
"Hey, safe space here," Nancy said. "We're not going to judge you."
"It's just that I'm glad that Max isn't here, that she broke up with me because I'm not sure if I'd be able to look at her if she knew what I was thinking," Lucas said. "There's a part of me that's glad. . . That's glad that Billy is dead because at least he can't hurt anyone anymore. The monsters, they're scary as shit but Billy scared me more than anything else because he wasn't a monster from another dimension. He was just a person who targeted me because of the color of my skin. He held me against the wall, and he threatened to break me. I still have nightmares about him holding me there, and what if Steve hadn't intervened in time? What if he held me to the ground and beat me until I couldn't wake up? Then I dreamed about him going after my dad, my mom, and my sister. He makes me watch and tells me he's going to break us, that we don't belong. . . then I'm back at the Byers again, and he's holding me in the air, threatening to break me as Steve lies dead on the floor. Billy scared me more than anyone or anything because before he got possessed, he was a real monster, and there's more people like him out there who wanted to see people like me dead. It scares the shit out of me. I feel like I should feel bad, though, that he's dead, but I don't. I only feel bad for Max."
"Lucas. . . You're not a bad person for feeling the way that you do. Billy Hargrove was a terror, and you're right. He was a monster. You had every right to be scared of him, and you have a right to be relieved that he's not around to hurt you anymore," Nancy said softly.
"He scared the crap out of me, too. Remember when he tried to run us over and he almost killed Steve? I am super glad he's not around to hurt my friends anymore. Do I feel bad for Max? Yes. Do I feel bad that Billy's gone? No. In my book, that's another bad guy who's not around to hurt our family anymore," Dustin said.
"I felt sad that his father was so mean, and that his mother left him alone, but that does not mean he should act like Papa. I am sad for Max, but I will be glad that he will not be around to hurt Max or any of my friends," El said. "He will not be missed, which is sad, but he made his own choices, and he chose to be bad."
"I'm glad he's gone even more now that I've heard what he's done to you kids. He was a psychopath. You could see it in the eyes. He definitely had it in for my friend, Jeff, which is further proof that he's a racist shithead," Eddie said. "Fucking sexist too."
"See? You're not alone in feeling that way, Lucas. It doesn't mean you're a bad person," Nancy said.
"Then why do I feel bad about not feeling bad?" Lucas asked.
"Because you're a better person than he was," Steve said.
"He saved us, saved El," Lucas said.
"A bad person can do one nice thing his entire life, but it will never make up for all the shitty vile things he's done. . .that takes constant work," Nancy said. "It took El digging in his head to pull out the one shred of decency that he had buried deep inside."
"You can either end the cycle of abuse your parents' beat into you, or you can pass it on. Billy chose to pass it on, man," Steve said. "He had every opportunity to give Max the older brother she deserved, but he waited at the very last minute to do the bare minimum. You're not a bad person, Lucas. Billy was, though."
Steve got up to hug the crying Sinclair, but Erica had beat him to it. She threw her arms around his waist, hugging him tightly.
"You're my brother, and you can be such a dumbass but I love you. I'm glad he's not around to hurt you anymore either," Erica said softly.
Lucas sniffled and hugged his sister back just as tightly. Everyone fell quiet as they watched the siblings hug. They sat back down, and the silence continued as they let Lucas mull over what's been said. Nancy pulled out a box of tissues and laid them on the table. Lucas gladly helped himself to some.
"I don't want to move to California," Will blurted out.
"Have you told your mom about that?" Nancy asked.
"No. I know how much she wants to leave, and I get it. She was put through hell here. We all were, but this is our home, too. All of you are here, and what if something happens again? I also don't want to be the one to make my mother miserable here," Will said. "I just wish I had a choice like El did. I want to stay here too."
"I think maybe you should tell your mom that. I think she'd understand about you wanting to stay," Nancy said. "I think she'd be happy with whatever choice you wanted to make."
"I mean, it's not like we'd never see each other again if we did move to California," Will said.
"I don't want you to move either," Mike blurted out. "You're my best friend. You're our best friend. Why does it have to be all the way in California? I mean, can't it be somewhere closer? First, we lost Hopper. Now we're going to have to lose you? You have to lose us? It's not fucking fair?! It's not right! And what about us? What if something happens again? We're just on our own again?! It's not fair!"
Will stood up and pulled Mike into his arms, squeezing him. Mike sobbed and hugged him.
"I'll talk to my mom, okay. I'll talk to her," Will said softly.
Lucas stood up and joined the hug. Dustin soon followed, and then it was El who joined the hug after them. Dustin cleared his throat and looked over at the others. Nancy moved with everyone else, and soon, they were all holding onto each other. They all stayed like that for a while until Dustin let out a gaseous cloud that dispersed them immediately.
"Oh my God! Steven! What are you feeding that child?!" Eddie exclaimed.
"I'm sorry! So many things were released today! What's one more toxic thing?!" Dustin exclaimed as everyone gagged.
El started giggling, which set off a chain reaction that caused everyone to laugh. They laughed harder when Robin dramatically threw open the windows. They didn't stop laughing until they all collapsed on the ground.
"I have to ask though, what's with all the journals?" Lucas asked as they all stood up.
"I got those for all of us to write our thoughts, feelings, and dreams down in," Nancy said.
"I do feel a little better now that I got some stuff off my chest," Lucas said.
"And I got stickers for you to decorate your journals with," Eddie said.
"Why are there so many My Little Pony stickers?" Mike asked.
"The question is: why isn't there more?" Erica asked.
"That's all they had in the store," Eddie said. "I LOVE My Little Pony."
Nancy and Steve shared an amused look as Eddie got into a heated debate over My Little Pony with Erica and Dustin. It had been a good idea to do this because it was another step forward to moving on and receiving the proper healing that they all needed. Nancy only hoped that they could keep this up. She knew that there were still hardships ahead, but as she gazed at them all, she could feel hope on the rise.
Chapter Fifteen
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youarenevertooold · 5 months
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Ahoy there Salty Pirates!
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I have no sentences or snippets to share this Sunday, but I have been able to chip away a little at the list I drew up for NaClYoHo - National Clean Your House Month.
I've fixed a door knob and hemmed a curtain that have both been languishing for... some months. I also took the pool water to be tested, and dropped off three boxes of cans and bottles at our recycling centre. Feels good to tick a few things off of the list, especially since they've been waiting so long.
I've just been handed an aperol spritz by my spouse, which feels like a reward. Go me 🥳
I think I'm still in podfic mode, as I'm mostly thinking about what to record next - but I really ought to be in CORB mode. I have enough for a single chapter, but I'm kind of scared that I won't ever finish it if I don't have it complete by the posting deadline. Doesn't help that it's getting to that time of year where it feels like you don't have any weekends left because... I don't even know how it happens, it just does. Shrug.
Speaking of podfics though, PLEASE go check out @caught-on-tape-fest. They've been collecting all the new podfics into a master list. There's HOURS of SnowBaz goodness there folks. Perfect for bedtime stories, walking your dog in the snow, cleaning your bathroom, or driving to the recycling centre.
Since this isn't an actual wip post (unless you count my house as a wip - which, fair), I was tossing up whether or not to tag people. But I like to see what y'all are working on, and also let you know that I think about you and hope life is treating you kindly 💖
@alexalexinii @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @artsyunderstudy @blackberrysummerblog @cutestkilla @hushed-chorus @iamamythologicalcreature @ileadacharmedlife @ivelovedhimthroughworse @larkral @leithillustration @martsonmars @messofthejess @moodandmist @raenestee @rimeswithpurple @shrekgogurt @supercutedinosaurs @thewholelemon @valeffelees @wellbelesbian @you-remind-me-of-the-babe
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