#steve 'I'm the cool mom' harrington

[goalieprotectionsquad]

ok but can you imagine if the duffels had given dacre the go ahead to make billy explicitly queer. can you IMAGINE. dacre would have acted the FUCK out of that part. we were ROBBED

#i mean he was sort of explicitly queer but you know what I mean #s: st #especially with JOE THOUGH??/ #requited or unrequited both would be so fucking incredible #we cannot fully picture just how good it would have been #like. world peace level shit #plz plz plz plzzzz i want him back so baadddd give me reluctant allies #even unrequited steve would be Too Good like 'this doesnt change anything for me youre still one of us' #and refusing to let billy die in a hole of embarrassment which is what we all want to do after being turned down #steve harrington: friend to the children friend to the gays #steve trying to be his wingman. trying to be cool about it #'hey that guy's kind of cute right' and billy being like oh my god please stop #steve 'I'm the cool mom' harrington

[formosusiniquis]

intrada (sugar plum holly and her cavalier)

Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson; Steve Harrington & Holly Wheeler; Past Steve Harrington/Nancy Wheeler WC: 5708 | G | Tags/Themes: ballet, references to The Nutcracker, pre-relationship steddie, good babysitter Steve Harrington AO3

It was supposed to be a date that would merge their interests, something that had seemed classy enough for Nancy and athletic enough that Steve thought it would keep his interest. Supposed to be, in that when Steve had gotten the tickets -- begged his mom first for her and his dad’s season ticket seats and then for help finding a good seat when she said she wasn’t about to waste a sixty dollar ticket on a date -- he wasn’t even sure if it was the kind of thing Nancy would like. A year and a half into their relationship and he was only just realizing how surface level their conversations were, either talking about work or treating every conversation like an interview and parceling out information like they were afraid to reveal too much about themselves. So he was really working off of a jewelry box he vaguely remembered from her bedroom when he bought tickets for a ballet that wouldn’t even happen for another five months.

He wanted to have them when she got to Indianapolis, something to look forward to for their first Christmas together in the city. The Nutcracker, a classic supposedly but if anyone would know its cultural significance he figured it would be Nance.

And Steve isn’t an idiot, okay. He knows that Nancy isn’t exactly thrilled to be in Indianapolis, knows that she’s not happy to be at her safety school and not Emerson. Imagines having to wait to see if she made it up the waitlist all summer wasn’t the greatest experience; and he has to imagine because any time he wanted to talk to her about it she blew him off to focus on alternatives and next steps.

That’s why he does it. Hopes that having something to look forward to at the end of her first semester will help. Hopes that this is the first of many Christmases together, maybe a tradition that they can keep up. Going to the ballet together every year until eventually they’re bringing their daughter along with them. Maybe it’s too early to think about kids, but this is the kind of future he prefers to imagine over future careers and what he’s going to do with the degree he’s stumbling his way through. So he thinks about Nancy with pinned back curls in a nice dress humming along to songs they hear every year.

It was supposed to be that. Until it turns out that their relationship really couldn’t withstand being in the same city as one another. Until he’s forced to confront the hindsight that they never really talked about anything significant in the year they were doing long distance. Until Nancy tells him that she’s transferring next semester, and she isn’t interested in doing long distance; that she isn’t interested in continuing their relationship at all.

So Steve resigns himself to just being out the money for the two tickets. It’s not like he’s going to go to a ballet by himself, and it seems shitty to bring another girl to something that he imagined becoming a staple of his romantic future with Nancy. It’s not the first time Steve has cut his losses. (But he’ll die before he tells his mom she was right about not giving him her good seats.)

He honestly kind of forgets about the whole thing. Finals week has just ended. He’s pretty sure he flunked the one actual business course he took this semester to keep his dad happy, and he’s trying to figure out if he can change his major without screwing his whole life up. He’s ready to have a few weeks off. 

Then Karen Wheeler calls.

Karen is a nice lady, though if he’s honest he’s not that upset that she isn’t going to be his future mother-in-law. She’s a little… flighty, as his mother would say with a backhanded smile. He privately thinks she sometimes forgets that she has three kids, losing track of one or the other at any given time. So maybe he shouldn’t be too surprised when she calls him two months after her daughter broke his heart begging him to take Holly to the ballet.

“Nancy mentioned it off hand months ago, and Holly hasn’t stopped talking about it since. I know it’s a big ask,” she had said in a tone that made it very clear she didn’t entirely care and would think poorly of him if he answered the wrong way, “but if you still have those tickets it would mean the world if you could take Holly.” He hadn’t missed the emphasis on the you either. Clearly Karen had no interest in making the trip to Indianapolis and he hadn’t needed to ask about Ted.

He didn't think of himself as a pushover, but he did think of little, blonde, six year old Holly: too quiet and too shy for her age. Fighting to be seen by a negligent dad and a mom who loves her children, but cares about appearances just enough to be blind. And he finds himself saying, “It’s no trouble, Mrs. Wheeler, but could you meet me somewhere halfway?”

It’s not until they’re settled into their seats -- on the floor but in the back, a booth behind them occupied by a pretty boy in a headset that Steve refuses to look at for too long -- that he realizes that he has no idea what this show is even about. Holly has been quiet since he picked her up, the least surprising thing about this trip right above Mike glaring at him from the passenger seat of Karen’s car as he moved Holly’s booster seat, but she’s studiously flipping through the little booklet the usher handed them on their way to their seats.

“Thank you for bringing me, Steve. I’m sorry Nancy didn’t want to come.” It is somehow simultaneously the longest and worst thing Holly has ever said to him.

“I’d rather see it with you, Holly Jolly.”

He’s saved from having to find anything else to say by the lights around them dimming, a prerecorded voice letting them know that any photography is forbidden and to expect a fifteen minute intermission, a bright and bouncing song picks up once the talking stops. He relaxes in his seat a little, relieved to get a few minutes before he’s expected to entertain a six year old that he’s spent more time with today than he had the entire time he and Nancy had dated.

Now Steve, contrary to what he very much knows is the popular opinion, isn’t just a jock. He knows there’s no talking in ballet. He’s even been to one before this, when he was still a cute novelty in his suit and bowtie accompanying his parents to the theater. What he is, according to his old nanny, every teacher he’s ever had, and about half of his exes, is a selective listener. 

It’s not his fault though that his brain instinctively cues into different sounds. The buzz of the light above him louder -- and more interesting -- than a lesson on factorials. The sound of someone’s relationship imploding hard to tune out no matter how interested he is in his own conversation. So of course the sound of someone talking cuts straight through classical music.

“Someone remind David he needs to smile at his partner, he looks like he’s dreaming of a murder suicide.”

And it wasn’t hard to find exactly who the voice behind him was talking about. The only frowning face at this Victorian party who was glaring daggers at the magician who was bringing in new dancers.

“Well he should know better than to sleep around the cast shouldn’t he, Birdie?”

A practiced reader of body language, Steve could almost see, underneath the choreography, the traces of impropriety. David’s undisguised glare. The wistful way the woman in blue tracked him around the stage. The woman in pink who mooned at the woman in blue. It made him wonder what kind of things were going on backstage.

He expects that to be in. He doesn’t really do theater much, too many memories of pinched arms and snarling trips home, but he does remember the one rule is no talking. But it doesn’t stop, barely slows.

“If Mark sets himself on fire doing this stupid firepaper magic shit do we get to go home early?

“Sure, Robbie Bobby, I’ll swap out for the Rat King last show of the run. Jay can do my job and I’ll do his.

“Five bucks someone slips on the snow as they exit.”

He wants to know if that stranger wins the bet but the curtain closes and Holly is shy and asking Steve where the bathroom is. So instead of working up the nerve to turn and talk to the man behind him, he’s smiling his best mom-charming smile and asking the first woman with kids he finds to take his guest into the girl’s room.

By the time she’s out of line, and Steve buys her the doll and the novelty sucker she’d been pretending she wasn’t looking at, they slip back into their seats as the lights dim again. No chance to make his own witty jokes or observations, break the ice and show off some of the Harrington charm.

The first dance goes by with little fanfare and Steve’s almost disappointed. Holly is wiggling excitedly in her seat next to him, clutching her own little nutcracker, and he’s not even paying attention to the stupid show that’s got her so excited because he’s too focused on a snarky stranger he’d only even looked at once.

“Jeezus christ, is Tom stuffing his dance belt? That’s some Bowie level shit happening up there.”

He had almost given up, so it figures the guy decides to speak up once Steve’s attention started to shift back to the stage. He nearly chokes on his own tongue, eyes darting straight down to the issue in question. Holly, the sweetest kid he’s ever met, pats his back softly, hesitantly, like she’s only seen the gesture before. “There’s a water fountain by the bathroom,” she tells him in a library whisper, “I can stay here and not move.”

“I’m okay Hols,” he lies, ignoring the itchy, squeezing feeling at the back of his throat and forcing the cough away.

It’s easy to do when there's something else to focus on, “No, Lizzie, I’m not going to shut up. No one cares if I’m occupying the channel.” The stranger seems to be gearing himself up for a monologue, “I’m not going to miss my cue, I am the cue. Robin’s not going to miss her cue  because it’s to music. Her cue doesn’t exist without me and she knows all of these songs and what note her cue goes with because it’s the eighth fucking time we’ve done it this week. If you or props have something you’ve got to say clearly you can get a word in edgewise.”

A few numbers go by after that, quiet except for the occasional professional, “Light cue, go.”

And then a song he actually sort of recognizes starts. A pretty strawberry blonde with a dainty smile tip toes and spins across the stage to plucked strings. Holly is enchanted, perched at the edge of her seat she reaches a hand over to clutch at Steve’s sleeve. A ‘tell me someone in the world is experiencing this moment with me’ sort of gesture. Awestruck and world rocked, stars in her eyes. Any resentment, any hard feelings that might have still lingered at babysitting evaporated. He got to be the person that let Holly experience this. A moment just for her, no family to take second place for.

The dancer on stage spins, clearing the floor in a series of tight, controlled rotations. Her arms guiding each step, swinging out and pulling her in, the driving force of her momentum. She’s moving fast, it’s an impressive display. Something shoots off in the opposite direction of that controlled turn, almost distracting in its break from that clean motion.

“Tell Props Chris just lost an earring.

“Fine, tell Wardrobe then.

“I’m not being a creep, I know she’s your girlfriend, Birdie. I merely observed her earring launching across the stage like an arrow from an elven bow.”

It’s like catching half of an Abbott and Costello act, like who’s on first being done through a telephone. It’s a strange sort of connection, listening in on a conversation that isn’t meant for him. He thinks for a sad second that he hasn’t ever had a friendship like this.

The show is wrapping up, dancers from scenes past making their way through for quick appearances. Holly is vibrating in her seat. Dancers in intricate costumes glide across the stage to bow toward the petite dancer in the nightgown and the strawberry blonde, Chris, beside her. A few moments later it's finished, the lights rising up around them and he shifts his primary focus back to Holly. 

In the middle of the room, they had the best view of the stage and the longest wait to leave. Steve tries to be subtle as he shifts Holly in front of him, afraid of losing her if she's out of his eyeline. He doesn't want to baby her by making her hold his hand. She's wiggling in place, but she keeps herself small. Careful not to bump into the people slowly moving out of the aisle in front of them. 

“Hols,” he starts to whisper, not wanting to embarrass her before he asks if she needs to hit the bathroom again.

But she grabs his sleeve in a child's iron grip,  "Steve, I want to meet the princess."

It turns out, it's hard to find a way to tell an excited kid that there aren't meet and greets after a show like this. Pleading blue eyes and a nervous smile looking up at him, desperate but scared to ask for too much. The least he can do is try.

The guy behind them is still there. 

The back of their line, Steve isn't holding anyone up by taking a minute to look. He's lithe, all in black. Hair pulled up in a half-assed bun, a headset tangled in the curls. He's wrapping up a thick cord, Steve couldn't guess why, but it draws focus to a toned arm that he's curling it around.

“Hey man,” the booth is a little bit above them, forcing Steve to rise up on the tips of his own toes to make sure he's visible, “I know you're working but I wanted to ask. The girl at the end- I, uh, I overheard you say she's your friend's girlfriend is there anyway you could convince her to come meet us.”

The guy startled a bit, probably surprised at being addressed. If he’s embarrassed at being overheard it barely shows a soft flush that could be from the warmth of the room. "The girl at the end?”

"The princess,” Holly shouts, bouncing up and down to try to see over the lip that blocks her view of the booth.

A change falls over the guy, his smile softens and eyes widen. He carefully drapes himself across the board of buttons and sliders to look Holly in the eyes. "Oh she's even better than a princess, she's a fairy. The sugar plum fairy. Is this your first time seeing the show with your dad?”

“Steve's not my dad.” She tells him with a little giggle, no doubt comparing Steve and Ted in her brain.

“Holly is my ex-girlfriend’s little sister.” He places his emphasis carefully.

“There’s a lot happening in that sentence.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, my Lady Holly, I bet I could convince Chrissy to meet a fan.” He promises with a flourish, “As long as your companion doesn't care that her faithful company will definitely be there the whole time.”

“Are you part of the group?” Steve asks, confident enough in his read of the situation to lay on a bit of charm. Letting his eyes trail down the sprawl of the guy's back. A thrill of victory at the little nod he gets back. “Then I won't mind at all.”

“Rockin’ Robin, tell me you still have your headset on?” He directs into his headset, “Great, remember that favor you and Chris owe me? I've got a fair princess who would like to meet our dear Sugar Plum Fairy.”

There's a lengthy pause. Even without the music playing the response is too quiet to be made out through his headset. “I don't see how that's relevant.” He hisses, “and she didn't ask to see an awful hag so you don't really even need to be there.”

His face clears after a second, looking to Steve like he wants them both to pretend that the earlier conversation hadn't been overheard. “Go through that door at the end of the front row right beside the stage.” The auditorium has cleared out enough he's got a clear view of the door the guy points to. “You'll end up in a hallway with a locked door at the end, wait there.”

“And if someone asks us why we're waiting there?” Steve asks, “I can tell them..?”

“Eddie, I'm- I Eddie Munson told you to wait there, if someone stops you before I get there.”

It's hard not to grin now that he has a name, Eddie, so he doesn’t bother. He puts on his best smile, the boyish and winsome one that always flusters whoever it's directed at, at least a little. Eddie is no exception looking back down at his work quickly. Steve takes a little pity, turning his attention back down to Holly.

She's twisting in place, hands clasped in front of her, as she stares off into space. He feels bad immediately, too familiar with what it's like to be a kid forced to entertain yourself while adults talk above your head.“C’mon, Holly Jolly, let's go wait for your fairy.” 

She takes his hand the second it's offered, swinging it back and forth, humming one of the songs from the show. “Steve, do you think she's a fairy like Tinkerbell or a fairy princess like Barbie?”

“I don't know Hols, what do you think?”

“Tinkerbell is kinda mean to Wendy, but she can do magic and fly. But Barbie is really nice so if she were a fairy she'd be a fairy princess and have a crown and help people.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes! And this fairy looked nice when she was dancing, but it didn't look like she had a crown. Can you be a fairy princess without a crown?”

Holly was buzzing, bouncing in place, clearly over whatever earlier nerves she'd had about talking to him. With her back to the door that they were told to wait by, she’s started listing all the different jobs Barbie has had and why they should make a fairy princess doll -- Karen’s homemade Barbie clothes, he learns, are not as well made as the hand me downs from Erica and Mrs. Sinclair, so she needs the real thing. Holly misses the way the door creaks open, the woman from onstage inching her way out of the half opened exit. 

Chrissy presses a finger to her lips, happy to help her surprise Holly, Steve keeps listening to her talk about why there should be a Barbie movie. He only nearly ruins the surprise when the dancer pushes down on the front of her saucer like skirt and it smacks her in the back as it flies up, letting her exit the back room.

Focused on her story, Holly doesn’t notice as the woman crouches down beside her. Not until she says, “This must be the princess I was told about.”

The screech she lets out is so joyful he almost doesn’t mind that his ears are ringing. Steve finds his smile mirrored on a freckle-faced girl dressed in the same all black as Eddie who is sliding out the door now as well. She sidles up to Steve, letting Holly have her moment with the fairy uninterrupted. “And you must be the prince charming.”

“Shut up, shut up,” Eddie pants, coming to a bent over rest beside Steve, “whatever she’s saying ignore it. Fuck.”

“You jogged like twenty feet,” the girl says, clearly unimpressed.

“Sorry Nancy Reagan, I say yes every time.”

“There are children present, have some class, Munson.”

The child in question could be on another planet, that’s how much she’s aware of their existence, Steve thinks.

“I have class every Monday, Wednesday, Friday; Saturdays are fair game.”

“Oh! That’s why you look so familiar,” the girl says, she’s looking at Steve now but he’s not really sure why. “We were in the same Communications and Public Speaking class, Prince Charming. Steve, right?”

He did have that class last semester, the only one technically tied to the business major his dad wanted him to have that he actually passed. “I, yes- sorry I don’t. I spent most of that class zoned out waiting for my turn to speak.”

“No, yeah, I figured. You sat a row in front of me and always looked shocked when you got called on, then you’d brush your bagel crumbs all over the floor when you’d go to speak.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, not really sure what to say to that especially not when it’s being said right in front of a guy he was kind of into.

“Birdie holds the strangest grudges in the history of the world, take it as a sign of respect, Big Boy. She hated me for half of our music theory class because my handwriting didn’t look like it matched my general demeanor.”

“No, I hated you because you always smell like weed and never do the homework but somehow are still the professor’s favorite. And I still hate you for all of those things, but your unfortunate personality grew like mold on my girl- I mean grew on,” her face takes on a look of panic as she pivots her word choice. It’s confusing, at first, until he realizes he’s the source of panic. A familiar joke made with a friend, forgetting the new, possibly untrustworthy stranger until too late.

The siren song of new friends and a possible date is alluring, but with Holly in the room he does have to be careful of what gets back to her parents. He remembers Ted’s political alignments and gossip tends to reach his parents faster than he can. So he does his best at assurance, “Chrissy, right, she seems cool. It was nice of you guys to do this, Holly is probably only a little bit more into fairies than I am.”

Eddie sputters beside him, hard to tell if it’s a good sign or if Steve has just royally fucked up his chances at anything; but if it means easing Robin’s fears of queerbashing he’ll ruin his chance for a date every time.

“Into fairies,” Robin asks, nodding over to Chrissy, who’s showing Holly how she balances on the tips of her toes, “or…”

“I’m light in my loafers, or half, light in one-”

“Ex-girlfriend,” Eddie supplies.

“Right.”

“Worst way anyone has ever described being bisexual,” Robin says. 

“Sounds like a challenge,” Eddie says.

“It was not.”

“I really appreciate this,” Steve says again to avoid the argument. Chrissy is helping Holly spin around on the toes of her patent leather mary janes, she’s giggling as Chrissy holds her pointed finger helping her twirl and twirl. “How’d you all get involved in all this? You’re still in school.”

“They always need a little help around the holidays, normally the theater kids get first dibs but there’s only like five tech kids and they’re all working the school show so the music department gets next go.” Robin explains.

“Chis is a prodigy so she put in a word for us specifically,” Eddie adds. Before he leers and leans deep into Steve’s space, it’s not an unwelcome move. “Unless that was you fishing for friends, Big Boy. Trying to figure out if you’ll see us on campus?”

“Oh,” Robin exclaims, like the thought had never occurred to her. “Are you finished with your gen eds? Wait, what's your major? Eddie, show off your party trick.”

He isn’t a total loser, so he doesn’t fidget or blush as Eddie runs his heady brown eyes up and down the length of him, taking him in. “Business and Marketing,” he declares after a second, but he doesn’t sound sold on it.

“I’ve been thinking about changing it,” Steve isn’t sure if he’s admitting Eddie’s right or just trying out what it sounds like to admit that he’s sick of being everything he’s supposed to be instead of what he likes. “I took Children’s Psychology for the whatever requirement and it was a million times more interesting than Intro to Econ.”

It feels like it’s going well. When Nancy broke things off Steve had resigned himself to finishing out college without any real friends, dating around and hoping for something that stuck. Here with these people, he can feel something starting. He wants to take that feeling and capitalize on it, follow through on something so another good thing doesn’t slip away from him.

That’s not the kind of luck that he has though. 

“Steve,” Holly buzzes, grabbing his hand with no hesitation, “Fairy Chrissy said that I can be a dancer too! Can Santa bring me shoes like hers?”

Christmas is a week away, if Stever were guessing, he’d say the Wheelers have had Holly’s presents picked out and put away for most of the month. “I don’t know, Hols, Christmas is pretty close and the North Pole is pretty far. Do you think the mailman would have time to get all the way up there?”

Her shoulders slump, making Steve immediately feel like the worst person in the universe for crushing her dreams. “He's watching though, so I bet he saw you ask right now,” he does his best to smile, hoping it's comforting since it feels tight-lipped and desperate.

“Yeah!” She brightens, starts to hum along to the song just a little off pitch, getting more excited as she goes until she's murmuring, “Knows if you've been bad or good.”

“Hey Holly Jolly, why don't you tell Fairy Chrissy bye and thank you. We don't wanna be late to meet your mom.”

She's still singing but she nods, turning and shuffling back to Chrissy, still a few steps away.

“Would she know where to get those, Chrissy, the shoes that Holly would need?” He asks Eddie and Robin in a whisper, hoping Holly is distracted enough by her goodbyes that she won't hear.

“Are you..?” Eddie asks, a blush staining the tops of his exposed ears. “Ex-girlfriend?” 

The emphasis catches his attention and, yeah, he can see how that looks. “Her parents aren't going to drive up to the city before Christmas, but the town over does lessons.” Barriers to entry, that's what his marketing classes called it, maybe he did learn something. He wants to make it as easy as possible for Holly to get what she wants. “She's a good kid, she should get what she wants for Christmas.”

That blush spreads, bleeding down from his ears across his cheeks. “You're a good dude.”

“Steve, I said bye. Do we have to leave now?” Holly asks.

“Let me say bye too, Hols, and we'll grab a treat before we meet your Mom.”

There's a pen tucked behind Robin's ear that he snags before he can second guess what he's about to do. Grabbing her arm first, he scrawls his number across it. “I've got a place off campus, no roommates if you ever want someplace to hangout or to study,” he tells her. 

He grabs Eddie's hand next, rubbing his thumb along the palm and slowly writing the same number on his arm too. Keeping a hold of his hand for as long as he can. “I've got a place off campus, no roommates, if you ever want to come by and do something, have dinner?” He'll start there, let his interest be noted, and hope that Eddie is the type to like guys who dive in head first heedless of the water below. 

Steve can already imagine a future where he's sneaking into the booth with Eddie. Watching shows he's never heard of before with a warm commentary murmured into his ear. Gossip and behind the scenes rumor, distracting him from a plot that's less important than the company. Maybe next year, after double dates and a growing closeness, he'll be able to sneak Holly backstage and she can meet other dancers too.

Maybe next year, he'll be convincing Eddie, and the girls he hopes will be his new friends, to drive down to Hawkins with him to watch Holly do jumps and spins of her own in their small town showcase. Eddie was good with Holly, Steve hopes it isn't a fluke, he's always wanted kids.

He's probably getting ahead of himself. Falling into the same trap he'd built with Nancy that had gotten him here in the first place. The romantic in him wants to spin this all as fate, it could be true after all. 

Steve takes Holly's hand, they both wave goodbye, and leave the empty arts center. The winter sky is lit up by a full moon, fat snowflakes slowly float down to the ground beside them as they head back to his car, and for the first time since Nancy broke up with him he feels good about the future.

It's a long drive back to the McDonalds where he's meeting Karen, with Holly already dozing in the back seat, it's time that he can sit and be happy. Regardless of whether there's a message blinking on his machine to welcome him back home or not; what was supposed to be a relationship compromise ended up being the most fun he's had in weeks. So maybe Chrissy will tell him where to get Holly's shoes, maybe Robin will invite him for coffee or swing by to compare classes, and -- if he's really lucky -- maybe Eddie will invite himself over for dinner.

But, as he hums along to the waltz whose melody lingers in the back of his mind, the possibilities are something to look forward to.

#steddie #good babysitter steve harrington #my fic #steve and holly #steddie fic #holly wheeler #apologizing for my sins against nancy wheeler i'm sorry i needed plot #but also wait listing and getting rejected from first choices happens even if you are wonderful and smart #secondly know that steve does get holly her ballet shoes and then worries it's weird and everyone gets a present from “santa” #mike complains to the guys about the comics steve gets him (but also doesn't let anyone else touch them cause they're his) #and dustin has the epiphany that there's a cool adult figure that's now available in indy that he can use #mostly to explore stores and stuff that hawkins doesn't have without his mom cramping his style #babysitter steve and the henderfam bros forever in every universe

[steddiealltheway]

Gareth is sick and tired of Eddie refusing to admit that he has a crush on Steve Harrington.

At first, Gareth had just brushed it off when Eddie seemed so adamant about interrogating Steve and his involvement with his new lost sheep. He had done something similar when he meet Gareth's few middle school friends the year before. But Eddie seems to think that one meeting isn't enough and insists that's why he always needs to rush out to talk to Steve and invade his space when he picks up the kids from Hellfire.

Gareth sees right through it. Eddie had come out to him a while ago saying he was definitely some form of queer after Gareth caught him making out with a guy in the Hideout bathroom. And he was more than okay with it.

But he is not okay with the way Eddie refuses to tell him - his best friend - that he has a crush on Steve.

"Then why do you always go to Family Video during his shifts and not buy anything, huh? Plus, you know that you never call anyone 'big boy.' Yes, I heard that when you were flirting with him after our last Hellfire campaign."

Eddie just rolls his eyes and dramatically flings out his arms. "I'm making sure the kids are safe with him."

Gareth snorts in response to that bullshit, and Eddie gives him an unimpressed look.

"Well, I'm going to Family Video to get a movie for my mom, and I would appreciate-"

"Yeah, I'll give you a ride," Eddie interrupts, looking way too happy to offer.

Gareth sighs but doesn't push it. He really needs to ride, and if the only reason Eddie's offering is to give him an excuse to be there... Gareth will take it and hopefully not be expected to pitch in for gas.

A quick ride over later, Gareth is almost displeased to see Steve behind the counter, eyes lighting up when he sees Eddie. Those two are absolutely ridiculous, and if Eddie would pull his head out of his ass for once, then Gareth could finally tell him that Steve likes him too.

He lets them lean into each other and practically giggle over anything the other has to say until he finds his movie and goes to the counter. That's when he finally notices Robin Buckley there staring at the two with a mix of fondness and irritation. Gareth is sure that he has the same look on his face.

He shoots her a knowing look, and Robin's eyes widen in an expression of hopeless, those two. Gareth gestures between the two and rolls his eyes - absolutely.

Then, they both look at each other in realization. Gareth knows Robin is cool and a bit awkward from their interactions in band classes, but he didn't know that she was that cool. And that she definitely knows about whatever thing is between those two.

Robin levels him with the same look, staring him up and down before finally seeming to settle on that he's cool too and also knows. They both kind of nod at each other in agreement that certain things need to be unspoken, but they absolutely need to rant about the two idiots.

They both start talking at the same time.

"Oh my gosh, I thought it was just me-"

"You have no idea how long I've needed to talk to someo-"

They stop and laugh a bit, both looking toward the boys, but they don't even register the interaction especially since Steve is tucking a strand of hair behind Eddie's ear while Eddie stares at him with heart eyes. Love is gross.

Robin takes Gareth's tape and goes through the process of ringing him up. "It's like they both are oblivious to the other's feelings."

"They are! Eddie won't even admit his feelings to himself, and I've been pushing it," Gareth complains, pinching his nose. He thinks he might feel a tension headache starting to form from those two.

Robin thuds her fingers on the counter in thought then slides Gareth's tape back at him. "Eddie's the jealous type, right?"

Gareth nearly scoffs. Jealous can be a bit of an understatement when it comes to him. "Of course."

Robin gets a grin that kind of scares Gareth to the core. She leans over the counter and whispers, "Then, I need you to flirt with Steve."

His jaw absolutely drops. "No way. Eddie would murder me!"

"And why would he if he has no feelings for him?" Robin asks with a bit of a manic twinkle in her eye that reminds him of Eddie.

Shit, she's right. It's definitely a plan that will work and finally get Eddie to admit how he feels... but also could get Gareth killed and banned from ever talking to Eddie again.

He glances over at the two and notices the way Eddie is blushing and trying to hide behind his hair as Steve stares on proudly. Gareth sighs. "Okay, I'll confront him one more time, and if he doesn't admit it after this little show, then I'll go through with the plan."

Robin sticks her hand across the counter and Gareth shakes on it. "Eddie should come in around six tomorrow during our shift. Come back before then with your tape or something as an excuse and have at it with the dingus here. But, you'll probably only be able to chat with him because I haven't seen him flirt with someone in a while - not since your dingus showed up. That should be enough to set Eddie off though, right?"

"Absolutely."

Robin laughs and loudly says, "Pleasure doing business with you. We hope to see you back at Family Video soon."

This startles Steve and Eddie out of the trance they put each other in, and Gareth watches with full annoyance as Eddie goes all puppy dog eyes as he sadly says goodbye to Steve.

In the parking lot, Gareth says, "You absolutely-"

And Eddie is quick to interrupt him, "Don't have feelings for him!"

Oh yeah. The plan is on.

-:-:-:-:-:-

The next day with only a few minutes to spare before Eddie shows up, Gareth returns with his tape and a pulse that is way too high for his own good. When Robin sees him come through the door, she tells Steve that she's taking her break and shoots Gareth a thumbs up.

God, what has he gotten himself into?

He walks up to the counter and slides the tape across. "Hey, I need to return this."

Steve smiles at him politely but frowns when it doesn't ring up.

"I think Robin didn't ring it up for me yesterday. I don't remember paying," Gareth confesses. This is probably yet another part of Robin's genius plan to force them to have a longer interaction.

Steve looks him up and down for a moment then says, "Hey, I know you. You're Gareth. Eddie talks about you all the time, but I didn't know you knew Robin."

And woah, he did not expect Steve Harrington to know a single thing about him. Honestly, he's a bit flattered and even begins to blush a bit. "Yeah, we've had a few band classes together."

"That's cool. What do you play?" Steve presses on, leaning into the counter not in the flirtatious way he does with Eddie, but Gareth thinks as a means to make him more comfortable.

"Drums in the jazz band," he readily admits.

Steve's eyebrows furrow in thought. "I didn't know Hawkins even had a jazz band. I'll have to come see you play sometime."

"Yeah?" Gareth asks in disbelief and a bit of awe. It's Steve Harrington for Christ's sake. Of course, he's going to get a bit taken aback by the fact that he wants anything to do with him. He feels that damn blush again and barely registers the bell to the door ringing behind him.

"Yeah, man," Steve says with a smile. "Sounds cool as shit."

Someone clears their throat behind them and Gareth jumps a bit. He turns quickly to find Eddie fixing him with a look of hurt mixed with rage at the sight of Gareth leaning toward Steve with a damn blush on his face. He's not into him, but he can definitely admit that Steve just has some type of pull to him. But Eddie definitely does not see it that way.

"Gareth, can I talk to you outside?"

Gareth nods and doesn't utter a sound. Oh, he's going to kill him. He's about to die. He absolutely should not have gone through with this plan.

He wanders outside toward Eddie's van and lets Eddie talk first.

"What the fuck was that in there?" Eddie asks with anger in his tone but hurt in his eyes.

Gareth just shrugs in response and waits for Eddie to finally confess that he has feelings for Steve and he needs to back off.

Only, he doesn't. He just stands there staring at Gareth, and for some reason it pisses him off so he pushes. "Just thought that if you didn't have feelings for him then I could take a shot at him."

Eddie's mouth opens and closes until he finally huffs, "Great for you. You have a better chance anyways so good luck to you."

Eddie flips him off and starts heading to the driver's side of his van, but Gareth runs and gets there first. "What the hell do you mean by that?"

Eddie crosses his arms but keeps a scary tension in his shoulders. "I mean that you're not the town freak, so you can have at him!"

Gareth scoffs and digs a finger into his chest. "That's why you won't admit you have feelings for him! You don't think he likes you!"

Eddie's arms fling wide open. "Of course, he doesn't like me! But I'm not about to cry over some bullshit feelings that will never be returned, so let me just have whatever it is between me and him and not have to put this label on how it makes me feel because I don't want to fucking deal with it! Let me live in sweet ignorance!"

"And that's where you're wrong," someone who is not Gareth says.

"Christ!" both Eddie and Gareth say startling back.

Steve stands in front of them with his arms crossed, but he only stares at Eddie. "What was that about bullshit feelings? Because I don't know about you, but I definitely like you."

Eddie's face flushes a bit red as he steps closer to Steve, unable to stay out of his space whenever he's nearby. "My feelings for you aren't bullshit at all. They're just fucking scary as hell, man."

Steve laughs softly and steps into Eddie's space. "You don't think that I've been scared, too? I would've made a move on you weeks ago if you would've said something."

"Well, I'm saying something now," Eddie says with a big smile.

Gareth really doesn't think he should be witnessing this.

Steve's eyes flicker down to Eddie's lips as he huskily says, "You sure are."

Yeah, Gareth has had enough of this shit. "Hey, guys?" Gareth says, interrupting them and ignoring Eddie's hell of a death glare. "Sorry to ruin your moment, but I'm still here. Plus, you're in a public parking lot."

Eddie still glares at him, but Steve nods. "Thanks, Gareth." He turns back to Eddie. "He's right, but luckily for you, I know of this really nice breakroom that has a door that locks. Plus, I was waiting for you to come so I could take my break."

Eddie's sour look drops from his face, and he practically starts buzzing with excitement. "Let's not waste another moment then."

Gareth is truly happy for them, but he doesn't think he ever wants to hear them interact again. But on their way back, Eddie stops and says something then runs back to Gareth and pulls him into a hug. "I love you, man. Thank you for dealing with me, but if I ever see you flirt at Steve again..."

Gareth pulls away from the hug and shoves Eddie's shoulders. "I wasn't flirting! I was talking to him to make you jealous and finally admit your feelings."

"Then what the hell was that blush!"

"He's like royalty! How else am I supposed to act when I find out he knows my name!"

Eddie takes a moment to really stare at Gareth then he gets a weird smile on his face. "You know, Steve knows this guy named Will..."

Gareth shoves Eddie again to cut him off. "Have fun making out with your boyfriend."

Eddie smiles widely then turns to run back to the store. Gareth smiles and watches as the two loudly laugh when they both try to squeeze through the doorway at the same time.

Then, Gareth looks around and realizes that by having his mom drop him off that he has no ride. He sighs and heads back to the store. Maybe he and Robin can celebrate, and she can tell him more about this Will while he waits...

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #gareth emerson #gareth stranger things #robin buckley #steddie ficlet #stranger things

[we-out-here-simping]

You, Me, Lonely.

(s.h. x reader)

from the river to the sea (educate yourself and help however you can)

Summary: you love Steve, Steve loves you. But maybe you both want different things from life.

Warnings/tags: reader menstruates (reader has uterus), abandonment issues, the ‘six nuggets’ talk, suggestive

Word count: 3.4k

masterlist

a/n: huge huge huge thanks to @procrastinationprincesses for helping me out with this fic and giving it an ending (ur amazing sanjana <3)

writing and posting something because i might have to go MIA for a lil bit (miss me while I'm gone will ya?)

fic is inspired by ‘You, Me, Lonely’ by FIZZ i absolutely love this song like its so close to my heart ughh what can i say I'm a little bitter about the six nuggets scene 

also if you couldn't tell already I have major abandonment issues and an anxious avoidant attachment style. It will reflect in what i write soz :(

In the quiet of the night, you wish for this to last forever. That you'll have him forever.

When you came out of the shower you found him asleep on his side of the bed. His side– the one closer to the door. ‘so I can protect you from anyone who'll try to steal you from me’, he had justified it when you asked him why he was adamant on that side.

you had turned off the bedside lamp ten minutes ago, slipped under the duvet, as quietly as possible so as to not wake him up. on your side of his bed. your bed.

He always sleeps on his stomach, one hand under his pillow and the other extended a little towards yours. His body moves with steady and slow breaths, back rising and falling under the covers, head peeking out from under the rumpled up duvet. his cheeks are squished against the pillow cover. His hair is a mess from the lack of hair product, and still damp from the shower he took before you. There's a few strands of his brown hair sprawled across his forehead too. With your softest touch you brush them away from his eyes.

You wonder what he was dreaming. you hope it was something nice. He looks calm, at peace, and very, very pretty.

You look at him and you know you love him. You want to love him forever.

Love had never seemed like the type of thing you’ll get– like it wasn't meant for you. But then you met him. This boy. This boy who you never thought to be your type. You never thought you even had a type. But his boyish charm and stupid grin won you over.

Your heart doesn't skip beats around him anymore, and you’d think that that means he doesn’t have that same effect on you anymore but that would be wrong. You don’t think you’ve ever loved anyone as much as you do to him. You don’t look at him and get butterflies in your stomach, you look at him and… you’re sure. your heart is quiet and sure. You don't think you’ve ever been sure before.

You want to be sure forever.

He feels like the comfortable still of rain after a scorching hot summer, like the calm and cold breeze that cools you down. Like standing at the top of the mountain, looking at the clouds and valleys below, he feels like the crisp air that fills your lungs. Like the comfort meal your mom makes– the one you can never really recreate, the one that tastes the best when it comes from her. 

You love him and you know. You know. You know he likes you, loves you even. 

Steve Harrington loves you like a dream, and you're worried that one day he’ll wake up, look at you and realise that he deserves so much better. He’ll wake up and he’ll leave for work and he’ll bump into a pretty angel of a girl with a disposition as bright as his. And he’ll never return. people fall out of love. People fall out of love all the time.

You wish for him to love you forever.

How long is a forever anyway?

You wonder what it'll be like. When you're older, with wrinkles, white hair and weaker limbs. 

It's like you see it.

You and him in a bed– just like now but older, wiser, more tired. His back turned to you. There'd be distance between you two, you’d want to move closer and hold him– but you wouldn't. You’d just stare at the back of his head, counting all the grey hairs you’d memorised like all the moles and wrinkles on his skin.

You’d notice his breathing, the rise and fall of his chest and you would have known him so long and so well that you'd just know that he wasn't actually asleep. you'd know why he wasn't asleep.

there'd be a pain in your chest. You would know what it is, why its there. You would gulp and try not to think about it.

“Do you always stare at me in my sleep?” his groggy voice pulls you out of your own head.

You blink, multiple times. Forever, right.

He softly smiles up at you. You blink away before moving to lay on your back, the sheets rustling with your movement. “sorry I woke you up”, you mumble an apology, staring at the ceiling, you fail to hide the shake in your voice.

“Y’kay?” 

“Yeah.” the sheets beside you ruffle but you keep your eyes trained on the ceiling. it seems inevitable. You know, one day it'll happen and despite having expected it, it’ll be the greatest heartbreak of them all. 

“Thinking ‘bout somethin’?” he sounds a bit more awake.

“When am I not?” you shake your head and laugh hoping he doesn't notice that it isn't real, thankful that the curtains didn't let in any moonlight and that you had turned off the lights.

“What is it?” but this is Steve, he doesn’t need to see you to know how you’re feeling.

“Nothing.”

“Were you lying about liking the pasta I made?”

“No, Steve it was good”, a real laugh slips out of you, and you finally look at him. He’s leaning on his elbow, the messy head of hair in his hand, looking down at you. You suddenly wish it wasn’t so dark so you could see the colour of his eyes, the moles and freckles on his skin.

“Then what?”

“Nothing.” your gaze moves back to the ceiling.

“Must be something if it's keeping you up”, you feel him shift closer to you. He smells of fresh shower, mint, shaving cream and washed laundry. 

“No, I'm just….  not sleepy.”

“Yeah?”, he raises his eyebrows with a sly smirk, “Well, I know a way to make you sleepy”, he leans down– both arms caging you in, landing a kiss on your neck before trailing further up to your lips. and its lovely, so god damn lovely, you don't want it to stop but this hurts.

“Ste– mmph– Steve stop”, you turn your face away, because if he keeps going, you think you'll cry, palm pushing flat against his bare chest, “I’m– I'm not in the mood.”

“Okay, I'm sorry”, he moves back onto his one elbow. The silence gestates for a while, you can feel his eyes on you. The ticking of the clock is the only thing heard through the room before he softly says, “Hey, please tell me what's happening?”

“Nothing”, you shook your head, “I’m just tired.”

“You just said you're not sleepy.”

“J– just go back to sleep okay? sorry for waking you up”, you turn onto your side, face away from him. 

He sidles up behind you after a second or two, warm breath across the back of your neck, you squeeze your eyes shut. “yeah, like that's gonna put me to sleep", he mutters behind you.

His arms snake around your waist, pulling you in closer, “C'mon, you know I wont be able to sleep after fighting”, burying his nose in your hair– he sighed.

“Did you just sniff my hair?”

“Yeah, I do all the time. smells s’good."

"You pervert", you both laugh lightly at that, your hand going for his around your waist, before your smiles fall and silence takes over once again. 

You lick your drying lips, you forgot to put on lip balm again, “We’re not fighting, Steve.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

You take in a deep breath in, fingers drawing patterns on the back of his hand, you breath out, “m’sorry.”

His arms squeeze tighter around you, he lets out a quick sigh before placing a kiss on your shoulder, “I’ll forgive you if you tell me what’s going on with you.”

“Steve…”, your voice trails off, you're not even sure what you were going to say.

“Is it— Is it your…. Uh, that time of the month?”

That makes you want to roll your eyes at him and smack his chest but you restrain yourself, you’re not sure if you want him to see your eyes right now anyway. Instead, you sigh,  “I had it last week, Steve.”

You got it in this very same bed. Awoken by cramps in the middle of the night. and Steve, your lovely Steve had given you a hot water bag while he took off the sheets and put on fresh new ones and then gave you a soft massage that put you to sleep.

“right... yeah, sorry," he says all sheepish, “So what is it then? Did someone say somethin’ at work?”

“No.”

“Did I.. " he hesitated a little, "did I say something?”

“...no”, you curse yourself for pausing before saying it.

“I did, didn't I?”

“No, no. you–”

“honey, you should tell me if I ever say stupid shit– you should call me out immediately–”

“You didn't say anything stupid or whatever. I'm the one who's being stupid.”

his hold on you loosened, he shifted back to give you space to turn around, “What did I say? Hey, look at me,” you finally turn in his hold, facing him “what did I say?”

“We’d have the cutest little kids, won't we?”

“..what?” You stood infront of the kitchen sink. your hands stopped their scrubbing at the pot you were washing. You tilted your head towards him who had his head rested on your shoulder, his arms around your waist.

“Little Harringtons”, you could hear the smile on his lips.

“Harringtons?”

“Or maybe we get our names hyphenated. That works too, it’d be cute”, his hands hold your waist, his duty of drying the plates abandoned. “They’d have my fabulous hair, and your pretty, pretty eyes– cutest kids around the block”

“Our kids?” you repeated dumbly.

“Yeah, and six of ‘em. six little nuggets. They’ll make up half of a football team”, he giggled, warm air hitting the side of your face, “Doesn’t that sound lovely?” he smiled at you.

“...yeah. Yeah, it does.” you smiled back at him which only made him grin wider. His arms tighten around you again, and lips start a trail from behind your ears to down your neck.

You scoffed softly "You’re supposed to help me wash dishes you filthy animal." 

“Oh, fine,” he gave you an over dramatic sigh, before his hands left your sides, skin feeling lonely as ever.

“No, it's fine. I’m almost done anyway", you went back to scrubbing at the bottom of the pot, "Just go and take a shower, you reek.”

“Alright, fine, I’ll go!” he groaned, playfully as a kid, before he leaned against the counter, looking at you with his ‘Harrington charm’. His voice is silky when he asks, “Will you join me?”

“Steve." you said it almost as a warning.

“I don’t hear a no.”

“Okay then, no.”

“Tomorrow morning…?”

“I have an early shift tomorrow, you horndog.”

“We'll make it work.”

“No.”

“Okay", he sighs, “come up quickly though, I wanna be the big spoon today”, pecking your cheek before leaving for the shower upstairs.

Looking at him, you brush the now mostly dry hair falling on his forehead, tucking it behind his ear. Your fingers lingered there, you smile, “nothing, Steve.”  your thumb rubs back and forth on the apple of his cheeks. “You didn’t say anything. it's stupid.”

His hand reaches up to hold your fingers in place, he turns his head a little to kiss your knuckles, “okay, I didn't say anything” he kisses your knuckles again, gaze stuck to your face, “but could you tell me what it is you think you’re being stupid about?”

God, I love him, you think. “Don't worry about it”, your voice barely a whisper as you attempt to give him a smile. You move closer, planting a slow kiss on his lips which are so much softer than yours– he never forgets his chapstick.

And god, you needed this, your brain stops when you kiss him. thoughts quelled and its quiet again. After some time though, your throat starts to burn and your chest is on the verge of a sob. So, when you pull away, you fail to hide the stuttered breath that you take in.

Steve knew there was something to worry about, but when he hears your breath that almost sounds like a sob, he’s immediately on high alert. Before he can brush your hair out of your face to look at you, really look at you, you bury your face in his chest.

It takes him a second to realize that you’re crying and it breaks his heart because you’re trying to hide it.

“Baby..” he feels you curl in further, your face warm against his skin. He moves to pull you in closer, palm holding the back of your head. He just wanted to take away whatever it was that was bothering you. He tried to pull away to get a look at your face to help you calm down but you wouldn't let him. He settles on carding his fingers through your hair, rubbing circles on the little sliver of exposed skin between your t-shirt and shorts, hoping it gives you some sort of comfort.

"Honey", it is then that you finally let in a shaky breath. he feels the skin where you hid your face get wet maybe with tears, sweat, snot, he didn't care-- he just wanted to take all your pain away.

You both stay that way, and you're suprised by how much you sob, how hard you heave. You weren't sure how long you stayed that way, maybe minutes, maybe hours, however long. It feels like forever.

At this moment, encased in Steve's arms, breath hot against his skin, despite the nose plugged with snot, lashes clumped with tears, eyes squinted shut, you think this is comfortable. Yet it hurts. Because you'll have to pull away. It hurts so damn much because you know how this can go, you know it can hurt so, so much more. You know it will hurt.

You want this to last forever, however fucking long one of those is.

So, you hold on longer because, you’re selfish with your love for Steve. You're selfish because despite the heartache, you’ll have him, for as long as you can.

His hold on you gentle yet firm, as if afraid he'd break you. In your head, he already had. He tries to pull away again, to look at you but you can't. Your eyes still squinted close, willing it all to be a stupid dream. “Honey, I promise you whatever it is, you can tell me”, he says, voice soft as feather. Of course it's not a dream.

Your tongue betrays you, “Its…s–” stupid. Silly. It really doesn't feel stupid or silly, but god, you're so scared that you can't say it, you didn't want to say it because if you do it’ll come true, wont it?

“Whatever it is that you think is stupid," he assured you as if he could read your mind, "I still want to hear it because I know I won't think it's stupid."

suddenly it burns, and you need air. you sit up and try not to think about how ridiculously not pretty you probably look with snot running down your face, “What if- what if we- we end up hating each other?” you manage to say through hiccups.

“What?” he sits up as well, he says as if you had said the most ridiculous thing, “I'll never hate you, honey.”

For some reason, tears fill your eyes again at that, “Steve, you don’t know that.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“No. Ste– people fall out of love, Steve- all the- all the time.” It terrifies him how convinced you sound of it.

“Do..... do you think you’ll fall out of love with me?”

The question startles you, its evident in your wide eyes, “Wha– what?”

“Do you think… you’ll fall out of love with me?" he repeats, "You think you’ll hate me?”

You shake your head, the tear that had been sitting on your lower lash finally slides down your already tear-stained cheek.

“Good." he wipes the wet trails left behind with his thumb, "then, why would I hate you?”

Your face twists into an expression that Steve wasn't sure what to describe it as. a deep frown on your lips, chin wobbly, brows scrunched up together, eyes red and tired yet nostrils flared. “‘Cause", you start but before you could continue another sob leaves you. you look down at your lap, trying to catch your breath. it takes you a minute before you begin again, "do you remember.... what you said about our kids?”

He nods, heart clenching at the way your voice breaks, “I don't think I can… do that”, he doesn't think he's ever heard you sound so broken. “I– I don't think if I– if I want that.”

He sits silent and you think this is it. maybe forevers aren't that long after all.

More tears fall, more sobs leave you, you don't bother to wipe them. What's it matter anyway? He hates you already. He's probably thinking of a way to let you down easily because he is kind like that “Honey.. I want a family..” you feel your heart ripping in two and you just can't look at him.

“And I want you to be a part of that family. I– I want you to be the person I built a family with, no matter the size." He wipes at both your cheeks again, making you look at him, "even if its just us.”

The relieved smile he expected from you isn't there, instead, you frown, the crease between your brows deepens. the part that hurt the most was that you push his hands away, “you’re saying that now, but what happens when years down the line, when we’re old, you– you end up resenting me. Y- you love me right now, I know. But how do you know you wont end up hating me like, ten years later?”

“I dont want to watch you grow old and hate me and then leave me, Steve. I’d rather end this now if we’re destined to just end up unhappy together.”

“We’re not. Okay? We’re not. I know I wont hate you, ever.” He reaches for your hands again. He kisses your fingers before continuing, “And I know that I want you, just you and whatever that– that that comes with. We could never have kids and I would never hate you for it.”

“You won't be happy", you say meekly, like he'd be mad at you for speaking what was on your mind to him, “You wont hate me but you wont be happy either”, you muttered, chin ducked into your chest.

“Honey”, he hooks a finger under your chin, tilting your head to make you look at him, to make you understand. “you’re what I need to be happy. You make me happy. And.. I’d hope you need me to be happy too”, a wet chuckle escapes you at that. A hint of a smile on your face despite the tears.

“You do, don’t you?” he clarified with a soft smile of himself.

You nod, "yeah", letting out a loud sniffle.

“Good. I know its scary but you’ve gotta put your trust in me. Trust me enough to believe in me when I say that you are what makes me happy. and I am happy."

He wipes away gently at your face, ridding it of the tear stains, “Sometimes, you’ve just gotta trust. I promise I’ll never break it.” 

You sob again but it's lighter than before, you wrap your arms around his neck and feel the weight you felt get lifted, you sniffle into the crook of his neck, "thank you."

You feel his lips on your hairline, "Let's go back to sleep, yeah?"

"Yeah. You still wanna be the big spoon?"

"yeah, I think you need to be the little spoon today." he pulls you down with him, your back to his chest, kissing the skin behind your ear he finally settles in beside you.

You call out his name, he hums in response. "how long do you think a forever is?"

"I don't know, honey."

"Can we stay like this forever?"

"Um.. if you mean us staying forever then yes, definitely forever. But, if you meant me being the big spoon forever, baby, I'm not sure if I'll be able to commit to that."

You laugh, "I love you." you confess.

"I love you too."

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x reader angst #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington x you #stranger things x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfiction #Spotify

[rogueddie]

Steve Harrington is six years old when he first speaks to Eddie Munson.

Steve vaguely recognized him from school, sure that he was in the year above Steve, but he thought that Eddie hadn't looked as lonely in school as he had in the public library that day.

So, determined to make a friend, he decided to go over and talk to him.

He only hesitated because Eddie looked immersed in his book- that is, until some other kids went over and bothered him. They don't do much, only seem to jeer and knock his book down as they passed by, but Eddie looked upset.

Steve got up as soon as the boys left through the doors. Eddie was clearly just trying to enjoy his book- and a big book too, Steve had thought that it must be interesting for him to be so far into it.

"Hi," Steve greets. He gave a little wave and his cutest smile- even his mom thought it was cute and she was so busy in those days that she never noticed those smaller things. "What are you- you, um, reading?"

He stared at Steve blankly for a moment, seeming confused. "Lord of the rings. Why?"

"Thought it must be… interesting. It looks so long and you've, just… you've read so much!"

"Oh. Yeah, it's pretty fun. You read a lot of fantasy?"

Steve shifted, glancing away for a moment. Uncomfortable. "I don't really… read a lot. The words get a little, uh, confusing."

"The Hobbit is a little shorter? And it's part of the same world as Lord of The Rings. There's three of these ones."

"What are they about?"

Eddie lit up. He kept the explination short, not wanting to ruin the book. He paused a lot, tongue sticking out as he tried hard to think, constantly noting that 'it will make more sense when you read it' or 'but then a thing happens, but I can't tell you because it will spoil it'.

"And the- the trees talking is, like, normal in this world?"

"Yeah! It's all great!"

Steve didn't quite understand, but he loved how Eddie made it sound.

"You still think you'll read it?"

"Maybe when I'm a- a bit older. I don't think I'll really, uh, get it? It sounds real neat though."

"Do you think it might help if I read it out to you?" Eddie's smile dropped a little when Steve hesitated. He leant close, lowering his voice. "I had to have my uncle read it out the first time."

"Really?"

"Yeah. A lot of words I don't know and because he was reading them out, I could just ask him if I didn't get it. Plus, I kinda still like being read to. It's like having a personal narrator."

"Oh. And... that's ok?

"Yeah. Why wouldn't it be? Uncle Wayne says it is so it must be."

"Is your uncle really smart?"

"Super smart. He knows a lot."

"Ok."

"Ok?" Eddie perked up. "You want me to read to you? Because I've been practicing doing voices and it is really fun."

Eddie flipped the book back to the start.

"I'll only read a little. Don't wanna give anything away."

Steve was fascinated. Despite how much some of the voices wavered, Steve adored them. He had to bite the inside of his cheeks at times to keep from making noise, or commenting. He hadn't wanted to interrupt Eddies flow.

It took him a while to realize that he'd stopped checking the time and, by the time he did, it was almost too late.

"Oh, damn," Steve jumped up, wincing at how it made Eddie flinch. "Sorry! I have to go, my dad- I'm sorry."

"No worries," Eddie shrugged. "Will you be here next week?"

"Yeah, should be."

"I'll wait for you here, same time."

"Gocha!"

Steve scurried out, running out the door. He ignored the yelling for him to slow down, panting by the time he jumped into the back of his dads car.

"Sorry I'm late."

His dad hummed, raising an eyebrow at him in the rear view mirror. "Good day? Make any new friends?"

"Yeah! I met Eddie and he's really nice and cool. He read me some of this big book and he wants to meet me again, next week!"

Steve hadn't noticed the way his dad winced when he went on to describe Eddie. He was too busy thinking about the next week and how excited he was to spend another afternoon with his new friend.

But, the next week, his dad dropped him off with a babysitting. He made sure to tell her that Steve was to be kept away from the public library.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #ficlet #altorprecanon

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Eddie's mom was a free spirit who got taken too soon but educated her son in anything and everything that she found interesting. And she found A LOT of things interesting.

Eddie still secretly keeps these interests and sure, some of them are expected (weed and the best strains), some less so (obsessive reading and perfect knowledge of Edith Piaf). Eddie can even make fantastic mixed drinks ("My mom worked as a bartender for a bit and she practiced at home, what are you staring at, Henderson?!") and can quote most of Le Fleurs Du Mal from memory.

Steve learns to accept and even expect this. Mythology? Of course. Random bits of knowledge from history? Of course. The man only knows SOS in Morse code but can tie nearly every single knot known to humanity? Weird, but it's Eddie.

But then he finds out Eddie knows a fuck ton about horoscopes and astrology. It only takes a single moment of distraction on Eddie's part - Steve is complaining about his latest date, a girl Eddie knows from his class, and he scoffs.

"Well, duh. Of course it didn't work out, Steve, her Moon sign's an Aries and yours is Cancer, that's a recipe for a short fling, not a long relationship."

Steve just stares at him.

Eddie's eyes go wide as he realizes what he's just said. "Uh, I mean..." he scrambles for an explanation, "...she...sounds really stubborn?" he says slowly.

Steve blinks once. Twice. Then his mouth twitches upwards. "What is your Moon sign?"

Eddie feels like it should be a joke, but Steve is patiently waiting for his answer, encouraging smile and those fucking delicious moles. "I'm...uh. I'm a Scorpio. Moon sign, that is," he mutters and hypnotizes Steve's left eyebrow. "Which is...you know. People think it sucks."

"And does it?"

He snorts and shakes his head. "Nah, well. You know, we can be kinda...secretive? But Moon signs are all about your emotions and the inner you, so...it takes a while to get to really understand Moon Scorpios, but then we're the most loyal bunch you'll ever find."

Steve just nods, still smiling. "That's cool, doesn't sound bad at all. But - are you compatible with a Cancer Moon?"

And Eddie probably should have asked "hey, what the fuck," but someone is asking him about his interest, no irony and all that, and that isn't something frequent according to the Munson doctrine. "Oh yeah, absolutely. I mean, Scorpios can be a bit intense, but they're both water signs, you know? And it depends on the Sun sign and rising too, so..."

Somehow, they spend the whole evening discussing astrology. Well, Eddie is. Steve is just listening and asking questions.

Somehow, Eddie manages to calculate both of their charts (because Steve asked).

Steve asks a lot of stuff. "How would you make someone with your chart open up?", "What would be an ideal date for that kind of person?", "Is there something I should be careful about?" and Eddie answers everything but somewhere deep thinks man, I really envy the girl he's doing this for. She's lucky she shares the same birthday and place of birth with me.

It only clicks two weeks later when Steve invites Eddie to hang out and takes him to an alleged haunted mansion. Which...might have been one of the more outlandish ideas Eddie gave him, but he said he would actually love that and that it would fit with the Scorpio dark and brooding aesthetic, if Steve's girl is like that.

He stares at the haunted house, at Steve's sweater (the one Eddie told Steve suits him the best) and a small picnic basket and he realizes.

I gave Steve Harrington a complete guide to dating me.

Steve smirks at him and gently touches his hand, careful not to spook him. "So, what does your Scorpio Moon say?"

Eddie groans and, after briefly checking that no one is around, quickly presses his lips to Steve's cheek. "Apart from "Eddie Munson, how the fuck didn't you notice sooner?" It's purring."

The younger man laughs and Eddie could bask in that sound forever. "Pretty sure scorpions can't purr."

"With you, pretty boy? They sure can."

#steddie #steddie drabble #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie ficlet #stranger things #stranger things drabble #not proofread we die like Dart

[stevie-petey]

episode one: the vanishing of will byers

Steve nods, as if you almost getting hit by his car makes perfect sense to him. When you walk over to your bike and inspect it for any damage, he follows after you.  “So,” he whistles, trying to pretend that this is all a completely normal occurrence. “You, uh, need a ride?” Honestly you don’t know why you’re surprised he hasn’t noticed the clear signs of you crying, your swollen eyes and red nose. Not only is he a boy, but he’s also Steve Harrington. It’s a miracle he even stopped to make sure you weren’t dead.

summary: jonathan smuggles you free food in exchange for friendship, will goes missing the one time you listen to jonathan, hopper doesn't really like you, and steve harrington almost hits you with his car as you're sobbing like a damn baby (in a cool way).

rating: general, although there's plenty of cursing and slight innuendos, so fair warning.

warnings: cursing, fem!reader, and use of y/n.

words: 7k

before you swing in: hello ! this is the first chapter of my come home series, where i plan on rewriting the entirety of stranger things because i really love a good rewrite fic and this is me just indulging in my ideal fic fantasies tbh. before we start: this is a steve x reader fic, however there will be some slight feelings between the reader and jonathan, but it doesn't at all get in the way of steve and honestly just adds to the angst because i love a good tragedy. also, reader is dustin's older sister, but i tried to write her as neutral as possible in terms of physical features, so let's all just play along. that is all ! i'm very excited for this series and i hope y'all enjoy her as much as i do :)

-

November 6th, 1983

Your shift at Bookstrordinary ends at 8:30 tonight, so as soon as you’ve organized all the books within the store and cashed out the last customer, you say goodnight to your boss, Mrs. Waters, and clock out. Today had been a longer shift, and it didn’t help that you had to deal with a particularly eager bookclub mother who insisted that you had the latest copy of some obscure novel that she needed for her club. After several attempts to inform her that no, you really didn’t have some novel about a cowboy falling in love with a rodeo girl from Michigan, nor would you ever want to read that, the mother angrily walked away. 

You’re happy to finally be free from work though, excited to see Jonathan to tell him about the book club mom because you know he gets a kick out of those suburban middle class mothers that terrorize Hawkins. He works across from you, at The Hawk theater, and it’s one of your favorite things about the bookstore. Besides getting to be surrounded by books all day and reading Spider-Man, you get to be across the street from your best friend and share frequent breaks together. 

A bell signifies your arrival at the theater, alerting Jonathan to look up from the concession stand and smile at you. He looks tired, which you can understand. It’s been a particularly long school year so far with Jonathan having to work more shifts than usual to support his family. 

“Welcome to The Hawk, can I interest you in our specialty popcorn and candy corn mixture?”

You make a face, “No, thanks. Candy corn freaks me out.” 

Jonathan laughs, knowing you’d say that. It’s been a running joke between the two of you for as long as you can remember. You’re not picky with most foods, but candy corn? The bane of your existence. “Tough crowd, then.” 

You laugh as well, now standing in front of the counter, and you learn against it so that you’re in Jonathan’s space. After being friends for so long, personal space doesn’t exist between the two of you. You’re the only person that Jonathan lets get this close to him on a regular basis, which you’re secretly proud of. 

“So, you almost done so we can pick up our idiotic brothers?” Tonight, as usual, Will and Dustin are at Mike’s house playing DnD. They’d biked over as soon as school let out, while Jonathan drove you to work, so he was your ride back for the night. 

He shakes his head at you, wincing, “I picked up an extra shift tonight. Stacy called out sick, and it’s good money…”

You nod in understanding. He doesn’t have to explain himself to you, which he’s always relieved by. 

“It’s okay. Is my bike still in your trunk?” 

“Yeah, I can get it out for you since I’m kind of ditching you tonight.” 

You wave him off, already reaching across the counter to grab his keys from his coat pocket. “No need, I’ll get it out myself so you don’t get in trouble with your boss.” Jonathan’s boss is an older guy, extra scary. “I’m assuming that I’m taking Will home tonight?” 

“It’ll be late by the time you get the boys, and you’ll have Dustin. We only live a couple blocks apart, you can just bike with Will until you get to your street.”

“Are you sure? I know he’s scared of the dark.” 

“It’s fine, Y/N. You’re already doing enough being there for most of the ride; I’m sure Will can survive the last five minutes alone.” 

You give Jonathan an unsure look, but you don’t argue with him. He’s his brother, he knows Will’s capabilities, and it’s an unspoken fact that you baby Will a bit too much. He’s just so much tinier than the other boys, softer in a way that you want to protect. He’s special. 

Jonathan sneaks you a large peach lemonade and hot dog from the concession stand when you return with his keys. You’ve parked your bike up front, and you accept the food gratefully. You hadn’t had time to eat your usual dinner during your break due to the bookclub mother fiasco, so you inhale the food quickly and give his hair a ruffle. 

“You’re a lifesaver, bee.” 

Jonathan lightly hits your hand away from his hair. “Consider it your payment for dealing with Will and Dustin on your own tonight, bug.” 

Bee and bug were the names the two of you had given each other years ago. Jonathan had started it with bug, stemming from the fact that you love Spider-Man so much, and you had struggled to come up with your own nickname for him. Then it came to you: bee, or B, for Byers. It was perfect, and you’re still incredibly proud of yourself for the creativity, honestly. 

After your quick dinner, you say goodbye to your friend and head off. It’s late now, nearing 9, and you hope that Mrs. Wheeler and your own mom won’t be too upset with you for being late for pick up. You know they prefer to have the boys in bed by a decent hour, but in your defense, Jonathan did skip out on you.

You arrive at the Wheeler’s in a short amount of time and knock on the door. Your cheeks are flushed from the early November cold, and you’re regretting that you only put on a thin sweater and jeans this morning.

Mike answers the door, giving you a dirty look. “Did you have to come early?”

“I’m actually later than usual,” you sidestep him, making your way into his house; you’ve become used to Mike’s attitude. “I take it the campaign is still ongoing?”

“See, mom? Even Y/N understands how long a good campaign can go on for!” Mike waves his arms at you, as if to signify to his mother the importance of your understanding. 

Mrs. Wheeler ignores her son to greet you kindly, albeit a bit exasperated. “Hello, Y/N, please come in.” Then she turns to Mike, giving him a stern look. “Mike, why don’t you tell Y/N how you boys have been playing for ten hours? I’m sure she’ll be understanding then.” 

“You guys have been playing for ten hours?”

Mike looks down in embarrassment for a second before turning to his father for help. You laugh a bit at his enthusiasm and see a faint smile on his mom’s face as well. Quietly you excuse yourself to go downstairs to find the other boys, and Mrs. Wheeler wishes you luck. 

Everyone always acts like the boys are some giant pain; truthfully, you enjoy them. Sure, they can be a handful, but they’re just kids; it’s hard for you to ever stay mad at them. Plus they like you, so it makes dealing with them easier. 

Lucas, Dustin, and Will are running around the basement when you get down there, frantically searching for something. You hear Lucas inform Will that if Mike doesn’t see something, then it doesn’t count. The urgence in his voice amuses you; you’ll never fully wrap your head around why they take DnD so seriously, but you love that they can enjoy it with each other. 

Dustin is the first to see you. “Y/N!”

The other boy’s heads turn to you and they greet you with enthusiasm as well. Will rushes towards you for a hug, which you gladly accept. When you break apart, Lucas gives you a high five and asks about a comic you’ve put on hold for him at the store. 

“Any luck?”

“Sorry, Sinclair. It’s still sold out, but the second it’s restocked I’ll smuggle one for you.” 

“Sick!” 

Dustin walks over, now in his coat and holding a pizza box. “Want a slice?” 

You decline, informing him that Jonathan snuck some food for you. At the mention of his brother’s name, Will asks where he is. You tell him that Jonathan had to cover a shift and that you’ll be taking him most of the way home tonight. 

As you all make your way upstairs, you notice that Dustin continues up to the second floor. Lucas notices too, and the two of you share a knowing look. 

“Still have a crush on Nancy?” You ask, already knowing the answer. 

“Yup.” Lucas responds, smiling in disappointment. 

You wait for your brother outside, helping Will with his coat and listen to Mike’s rambling about the campaign. Lucas is already on his bike, ready to go. 

“There’s something wrong with your sister.” Dustin declares when he finally returns.

Mike looks at you, then at your brother, confused. “What are you talking about?” 

“She’s got a stick up her butt.” 

“Dustin!” You berate. Nancy isn’t your favorite person, but she’s always been nice to you the few times you’ve interacted. You guys used to be closer when you were younger, but high school has a way of distancing people.

“Yeah,” Lucas now speaks up. “It’s because she’s been dating that douchebag, Steve Harrington.” How the hell does Lucas even know about that? You didn’t even know about that until just now. 

“Lucas! Language!�� 

“Yeah, she’s been turning into a real jerk.”

“Dustin, I swear to God-” 

The boys ignore you, which you’re honestly not surprised by. While they may like you, that doesn't mean that they listen to you. On a good day they maybe listen to you 25% of the time, but tonight was clearly not a good night. 

Mike finally cuts in, “She’s always been a real jerk.”

“Hey, she’s your sister. Give her some credit-”

Dustin is now the one who cuts you off. “Nuh-uh, only you get the sister leniency, Y/N. Nancy used to be cool, now she isn’t.” 

“Remember that time she dressed up as an elf for our Elder tree campaign?” Lucas asks, almost reminiscent. 

You shudder at the way he says it, and you shudder more when you see the dreamy look in your brother’s eyes. “Yeah, I remember…” 

“Gross,” you huff at your brother, now hopping on your own bike. 

Lucas and Dustin begin to pedal away, and you call after them to wait up. Will is still with Mike, and you promised Jonathan you’d get him home. You give the boys a bit of space, waiting a few paces ahead. Will has always been shy around Mike, something that you’ve tried not looking into too much, but to be safe you give them some privacy. 

Faintly, you hear Will say, “The Demogorgon, it got me.” 

Lights flicker a bit, but you’re too focused on the slight unease you feel by Will’s words. Before you can think too much about them, he joins you. “Race you up to Lucas and Dustin?”

“You’re on,” you tell him. 

Will beats you to the boys (which you let him do), and you’re out of breath. The four of you bike in silence for a bit until you reach Lucas’s turn into his neighborhood. 

“Good night, ladies.” He says, and you don’t need to be a psychic to know what your brother’s response is going to be.

“Kiss your mom ‘night for me.” Bless him.

You and Will giggle together, and Dustin smirks at the two of you, proud. He sits in the praise for a few moments before challenging you and Will to race home with the promise of a comic for whoever wins. 

“I call last year’s Black Cat issue of Spider-man!” You call out, already biking away from the boys. 

“We didn’t say go!”

Dustin and Will call after you as they try to catch up, and within a few seconds the three of you are speeding down the hill towards your home. You laugh gleefully, enjoying the way the wind whips through your hair and the way Dustin, though annoyed by your early start, laughs alongside you with Will. 

Somehow Will is the one who wins the race, which you’re impressed by. He may be small, but he’s surprisingly good at winning when it comes to a competition. Dustin shouts at Will that he’ll kill him, which makes you send a warning look at him. 

“I’ll take your X-Men 134!” Will retaliates, still flying through the street. 

You and Dustin are now stopped at your mailbox and you take a moment to catch your breath before shouting at Will, “Be careful, please! Stay safe!”

“I’ll be fine, I promise!” Will’s voice is distant, now a few yards away, and you stand outside for a few more seconds to watch his figure disappear into the night. Dustin has already gone inside but you wait to follow, only going inside when you can no longer see Will, hopefully home safe and sound. You feel fear creep upon you, but you chalk it up to your usual worry when it comes to the boy. 

He’ll be okay, Jonathan should be home within the hour. 

– 

The next morning you’re frantically biking to school, pissed off at Jonathan. He’s your ride every morning, or everywhere, really, and for the second time in 24 hours he’s bailed on you. Dustin left for school ages ago on his bike, so you’re thankful he doesn’t see you embarrassingly sweaty and gross as you race to school. 

It’s not that you’re pissed that Jonathan bailed again, you’re pissed because he didn’t even have the nerve to call you ahead of time to warn you. Now you have only ten minutes before the first bell rings, and your sweater clings to you uncomfortably as you sweat. 

You make it to school with a few minutes to spare, so you quickly make your way over to your locker to grab the necessary books for the day. You’re still sweaty, and you don’t want to even think about what your hair looks like right now. You look down the hall towards Jonathan’s locker, still not seeing him, and you begin to worry a bit. Maybe he overslept after last night’s shift? 

A body crashes into yours, sending your notebooks spiraling to the ground. Steve Harrington looks at you sheepishly, only saying a small “whoops!” before continuing his fast pace towards the girl’s bathroom. You scoff, now even more annoyed with your entire morning, picking up your stuff as you see Nancy enter the same bathroom a few moments later. 

“In a public school bathroom?” You mutter in disgust, collecting the last of your things and heading to class. 

You decide to give Jonathan until second period, sophomore English which the two of you share, before you freak out. You know you have a problem with over worrying about the people you love, so you try to calm yourself down. While Jonathan has never been the type to cancel without at least calling first, you reason with yourself that everyone has a bad morning. He simply slept in too late. When he wakes up, he’ll come to school and he’ll be sitting in the seat next to you in English. 

Except Jonathan isn’t in the seat next to yours when you enter the classroom an hour later. Now you officially let yourself begin to worry. Something about this doesn’t feel right. 

You’ve never skipped class before, school has always been important to you. You’re the top of your class with hopes of running away from Hawkins with Jonathan to a big city with an even bigger university. However, you don’t even hesitate to flee the classroom and find the nearest phone in the school to call the Byers’ residence. 

Jonathan answers after a few rings, and the words that leave his lips change your life forever. “Will is missing.”

You feel all the air in your lungs be knocked out of you. You can’t breathe and you sway a bit as your knees threaten to give out. This isn’t real, this can’t be happening. 

“What?”

“Will, he-he’s gone, Y/N. We can’t find him and-” 

You don’t hear whatever else Jonathan says. You struggle to get air back in your lungs. Will isn’t missing, you just saw him last night. Mere hours ago Will laughed next to you, face alive with joy, he hugged you and joked along with you. 

“He didn’t come home last night-”

“He didn’t come home?” Jonathan’s words catch your attention and you feel bile rise in your throat. Will didn’t make it home last night. You were the last one to see him, and the realization crushes you; it’s all your fault. 

“Mom and I just searched the woods, and there’s no sign of him and-” Jonathan is rambling now, his own fear and despair clear in his voice. 

“Jonathan,” you force his name out, now needing to be there for your best friend. You can worry for Will in your own time, right now Jonathan needs you. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” 

“Y/N, you don’t-”

You hang up before Jonathan can argue with you and stumble towards the exit. Your limbs feel heavier than normal, and your ears are ringing. Will is missing. He’s so small, he’s scared of the dark… You left him alone in the dark. 

The bike ride to the Byers home is a blur. You don’t remember much, your body going on autopilot the second you hopped on your bike. You’re running on pure fear and adrenaline right now, too worried for your boys to focus on anything else. 

You don’t bother to knock when you arrive, instead you let yourself in. Joyce is on the phone, arguing with some woman named Cynthia. Your eyes find Jonathan’s, who is sitting on the couch hunched over something. You walk over to him and sit down beside him and your stomach lurches when you see the words “have you seen me?” he’s so neatly printed out on a piece of paper.

“Bee…” you exhale, voice cracking a bit. 

Jonathan doesn’t say anything, but you know him as well as you know yourself. He doesn’t want comforting words right now. You take his hand into yours and lean your head against his shoulder. Worry has made his muscles tense, but you feel him relax into you a bit as he rests his own head against yours. The two of you sit like that for a moment, taking in the comfort you bring each other. 

“Bitch!” Joyce slams the phone down, causing you and Jonathan to jump apart. 

“Mom,”

“What?” Joyce is a mixture of both rage and anxiety, and you feel awful looking at her. Her son is missing, you can’t imagine what she must be feeling right now.

“You have to stay calm.” Jonathan tells her, his voice firm but kind. You know it’s taking everything in him to be as stable as he is right now; he’s putting on a front for his worried mother. You squeeze his hand, hoping it conveys the support and love that you need it to.

He squeezes back, and you see Joyce finally recognize that you’re there as well. She sends you a weak wave, which you return, before she goes back to dialing and trying to reach Lonnie. Jonathan gives your hand one last squeeze and lets go, now returning back to the posters. You immediately understand that he’s doing this to distract himself, so you do the same and wordlessly help him.

You begin writing your own “have you seen me?” when Joyce once again slams her phone down. The sound makes you flinch, inadvertently messing up your writing, which you sigh at. Before you can ask Jonathan for another piece of paper, you hear a car pull up. 

Jonathan stands up to investigate, alerting his mom that the cops are here. You follow after them outside, your heart dropping when you see Will’s bike in the Chief’s hand. He ushers everyone inside, informing Joyce that he found the bike lying in the road.

“How far was it from the house?” You ask, your voice frail. 

The Chief looks at you, his nametag informs you that his name is Hopper, and raises his eyebrows. “And can I know who is asking?” 

You clear your throat, nervous under his scrutinizing gaze. “I’m Y/N Henderson. I’m close with the Byers, I biked with Will home,” your voice catches in your throat, snagging onto the guilt that has been clawing at you ever since you found out Will was missing. You clear your throat again, determined to continue. “I was with him last night. My brother and I live right off Mirkwood, a few blocks from here. He only had a few more minutes before he would’ve been home.” 

Hopper stares at you. “Mirkwood?”

“It’s where-”

“Yeah, those moron kids explained it to me. I just didn’t think someone your age would call the street that, too.” Then, as an afterthought, Hopper adds, “The bike was found a block from here.”

His words sting, but you ignore it. If the bike was found only a block from the Byers’ home, then that means that something had to have happened to Will only minutes after you last saw him. You feel the familiar churning in your stomach, wracked with guilt. 

“Did it have any blood on it?” Joyce now asks, and you’re thankful she’s taken the attention off of you. 

Jonathan sees your distress and grabs your sweater so that you fall back a bit from the cops and Joyce. “Do you need a minute?”

You can only nod, afraid that if you open your mouth you’ll either cry or throw up. He gently guides you to his room, closing the door. Once you’re alone, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you in tight. You’re shaking harder than ever now, Will’s happy and shining face from last night keeps flashing through your mind. 

You were the last one who ever saw him.

You’re the one who was last responsible for him. 

You.

“It’s not your fault,” Jonathan whispers, his voice muffled by your hair. You’ve always loved how you fit perfectly in his arms, your height difference being just enough that he always rests his chin against your head when he hugs you. 

“I’m the last person who saw him.”

“Y/N, I was the one who asked you to only bike him halfway-”

“No,” your voice comes out louder than you intend it to, and you push Jonathan away. He lets out a confused noise as you grapple at him, forcing him to look directly at you. “I should’ve been with him, Jonathan. It’s your job to support your family, and it’s my job to help you. I have to… I have to be the one who helps you.” 

You’ve always been fascinated by psychology, and you remember reading in one of the journals about codependency; the term was used in relation to addiction, specifically alcoholism, but it had caught your interest. To love someone to the extent that their actions make you feel responsible for them, to selflessly take on their burdens to a debilitating extent, well, it reminded you of your relationship with Jonathan. 

You’ve always taken on whatever Jonathan has had to deal with, ever since you were kids, and it’s always come so naturally to you. He’s never asked you to, and sometimes the extent to which you carry his weight angers him, but it’s how you love.

It’s who you are. You’re always the one who helps, it’s what you need to be able to do. If you can’t help the ones you love the most, then what good is your love for them?

Jonathan may not know about codependency, but he knows how hard you love those closest to you. “Bug, listen to me.” He grabs your face, almost aggressively, in order to cut off your rambling. “My mom, she-she’s already spiraling and I can’t… I need you. I need you to be here, with me, right now. If I lose you too, then I-I don’t know what I’ll do.”

His words cut through you like glass. He’s right, you know he’s right, and you feel another wave of guilt wash over you. This guilt is different from the guilt surrounding Will. This is mixed with shame for allowing yourself to spiral so far and forcing Jonathan to take care of you. Joyce is clearly unwell, you can’t fathom how much he’s had to deal with today. 

You gently remove Jonathan’s hands from your face and take a step back. If you’re going to help him, you need to collect yourself. From here on out, you have to be a wall for him to lean on, a shoulder to cry on, someone who will listen to him. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Jonathan shrugs at you, now allowing a hesitant smile to cross his face. “If it makes you feel any better, it took a lot less pleading to get through to you. I’m still working on my mom.” 

The joke is foul, one that should make you feel even worse than you already do, because what sixteen year old has to plead with their mother to remind her that he’s there, too? The joke is horrible, and it’s exactly what you need to find yourself laughing, and Jonathan joins. 

Codependency can be a bitch, but Jonathan understands you in ways that no one else can. 

“You think the cops are gone?” You ask, wiping away the remaining tears. 

Jonathan listens for any sign of them and shakes his head. “No, I think we’re all clear.”

He walks out the room first and you follow after him. Joyce is standing in the kitchen, staring at the counter with a far off look in her eyes. You and Jonathan look at each other and you motion for him to go talk to her. He nods, and then you motion to the living room to indicate that you’ll continue working on the missing posters. 

Carefully writing on the posters soothes you, in a way. It’s rhythmic, providing a sense of lull that you readily embrace. You faintly hear Jonathan talking with his mother, then you watch as he leads her to her bedroom and shuts the door. When he returns he sits next to you on the couch and begins to work on the posters as well. No words are needed. 

You work on the posters in silence for a few hours until it nears 3pm. Dustin will be getting out of school soon, and you have to be there for him when he’s home. While Will may be Jonathan’s brother, he’s also your brother’s best friend. You get up and head into the kitchen, long familiar now with its layout and usual contents within the fridge, and quickly prepare the ingredients for spaghetti. It’s a simple meal, but Jonathan and Joyce need to eat. Once it’s all laid out, you return to the living room and tap on your friend’s shoulder. 

“Hey, I have to head out now to check on Dustin, but I just put a pot of water on the stove along with some noodles on the counter. I also cut up some vegetables and put them in the fridge for the sauce. Start the meal whenever, I laid everything out for you.”

“Thank you, really,” Jonathan exhales, relief evident on his face. He hadn’t even thought about dinner, which you figured he wouldn’t. 

You bend down to kiss the top of his head. “Anytime, bee. I’ll call you tonight, okay?”

“Okay,” 

“Just…” you linger at the door, not fully wanting to leave him all by himself. “Be careful, please.” 

“Go, Y/N. I’ll be fine, I promise.” Jonathan reassures you.

“I’ll be fine, I promise!” Will’s voice is distant, now a few yards away, and you stand outside for a few more seconds to watch his figure disappear into the night.

It’s brief, but the flashback punches you in the gut. You close your eyes, holding onto the image of Will’s face in the moonlight last night, and when it fades you take a deep breath and force yourself to leave. 

The second you’re on your bike, pedaling away from the house, you let the sobs that have wracked against your throat all day out. It’s messy, the tears coming down your face faster than you can wipe them away. All the fear you’ve felt is now able to freely come out. It’s not the safest way to bike home, but you know that if you hold the tears in any longer you’ll collapse. You do your best to still be alert, but apparently you fail because a BMW honks at you to avoid you hitting it. 

“Fuck!” You yank your bike to the right, having no idea that you had been on the left side of the road, and topple over. The fall isn’t anything bad, but it definitely is your final straw for the day. You lay in the ditch you’ve landed in, staring at the November sky, and let the pain from your skinned knee serve as something to ground you to reality. 

“Holy shit, did I hit you?” 

Steve Harrington stands over you, a horrified look in his eyes. 

“Unfortunately not, otherwise I’d be able to sue you and get money out of it.” 

“Uh… okay?” He offers you his hand, although still very confused. “You didn’t like, happen to hit your head or anything, right?” 

You accept his help, albeit mostly because you have to, and brush yourself off when you’re up. “I’m fine. I just wasn’t paying attention, sorry.” 

Steve nods, as if you almost getting hit by his car makes perfect sense to him. When you walk over to your bike and inspect it for any damage, he follows after you. 

“So,” he whistles, trying to pretend that this is all a completely normal occurrence. “You, uh, need a ride?”

Honestly you don’t know why you’re surprised he hasn’t noticed the clear signs of you crying, your swollen eyes and red nose. Not only is he a boy, but he’s also Steve Harrington. It’s a miracle he even stopped to make sure you weren’t dead. 

“No,” you say, now repositioning your backpack so that you can get back on your bike. “Thanks anyways, Harrington.” 

Steve continues to follow you, even after you’ve started to pedal away. “You’re welcome, random girl I almost hit!”

You’re a bit further now, and you still feel like utter shit, but his words somehow make you laugh a bit. For a brief moment, you forget about everything, so you call behind, “It’s Henderson!” 

“That’s an odd first name!” The boy shouts after you, still following from a distance. 

“Y/N Henderson!” You’re fully yelling now, a good yard away, but you can tell that Steve hears you based on the way he begins to wave eagerly, finally stopping next to his car. Faintly you understand the boyish charm that makes him so loved by all the girls in the school; you understand why Nancy Wheeler has fallen for him.

“Bye, Y/N!” It’s faint, but you swear you can hear a smile in his voice.  

The good mood that Steve Harrington inexplicably puts you in vanishes when you near your house. Nothing has changed, yet it feels as if something has shifted. Will had been here only hours ago. You spot Dustin’s bike laying on the grass, haphazardly thrown as usual. 

Dustin is just taking off his coat when you enter, immediately running over to him to pull him into a bone crushing hug. 

“Y/N!” he squeaks in surprise. 

“Are you okay?” You know you’re squeezing your brother harder than you need to, but God. He’s safe, in your arms, and you’ve now learned that not everyone can say the same about their own loved ones. 

Dustin wiggles a bit, trying to break away from the hug, but you only pull him in tighter. “Geesh, no one died.” 

Normally you’d berate him, but you embrace his snarky comments. They’re what make Dustin so unique, his humor one of your favorite parts of him

When you don’t respond, Dustin stops wiggling around and finally accepts the situation. “I love ya too, sis.” 

You giggle a bit, now pulling away. “At least mom isn’t home right now. The minute she hears about what’s happened, we’ll be on lockdown.”

Dustin’s eyes widen. “Shit, you’re right.” 

“Lan-”

“Language, I know.”

You ruffle his hair, now feeling a bit better. Dustin is still Dustin, so maybe everything will be okay. You and your brother go into the kitchen for your post school snack, and you call your boss to inform her that you can’t make it to your shift. The words “family emergency” catch in your throat a bit, and Mrs. Waters is kind enough not to push it.

Dustin catches you up on his day, informing you about Hopper questioning him and the other boys. 

You scrunch your nose at that. “Is that even legal?”

“Unsure, but it was awesome.”

“Will went missing, Dustin. It isn’t ‘awesome’.”

Dustin tilts his head at you. “Well, I bet Will is going to have a blast hearing everything when we find him.” 

His words are so matter of fact, as if he already knows that Will will be found after all. His naivety worries you a bit, but you also can’t help but indulge in his hope as well. Then you think about what he’s just said. “Wait, who’s ‘we’?”

Your brother pretends he can't hear you, miming at his ears. “Dustin-”

“What?”

“Dustin, you and the boys can’t just-”

“I can’t hear you!” He’s running to his room now with you quick behind his heels. 

“Dustin, I swear to God-”

“I gotta do homework, Y/N, bye!” He slams the door in your face. 

You sigh. There’s no getting through to him, years of being Dustin’s older sister has taught you that, so you go into your room instead. You might as well get started on the assignments you missed today, and you have a huge chem test tomorrow, so you’ll focus on that and keep an ear out for Dustin. Whatever he’s planning with the boys, you won’t let them do it alone. 

After a couple hours of silence from Dustin’s room, you decide to call Jonathan. The line rings for a while with no answer, and eventually you give up. It makes sense that he’s not answering, he’s had a long day. You hope he’s asleep, but you know him better than that. He’s probably holed up in his room, trying to distract himself like you are right now. 

A loud thud from Dustin’s room breaks you from your thoughts. Then you hear a quiet “shhh!” that sounds suspiciously like Lucas, and you immediately throw on your shoes and a jacket and march outside. 

Dustin is halfway out of his window when you arrive, and Mike and Lucas stare at you, caught red handed. 

“Guys, I think she can hear us.” Your brother says, breaking the silence. Mike scoffs at him and Lucas groans. 

You eye the three of them, unamused. “Your best friend just went missing, what the hell are you guys doing out here so late and alone?”

Dustin awkwardly finishes his descent down, finally landing on his feet with a thud. He secures his hat back on his head and goes to grab his bike. You block his path. 

“I’m serious, one of you needs to start talking, now.” 

Lucas and Dustin look at Mike, who is their unofficial leader of the gang, and he huffs. “Look, Y/N, I like you-”

“How thrilling.” You say, voice monotone. 

The boy ignores you and continues to talk. “But Will is missing, and we aren’t just going to sit around and wait. He’s our friend, we have to do something.” 

You open your mouth to speak, but Lucas interrupts you. “You’re definitely our favorite sister in the group, so you’d be even cooler if you let us go.” 

Again, you try to respond, but this time Dustin beats you to it. “Yeah, you’re like, totally cool already. If you pretend that you never saw us, that’d be great.” 

“Guys-”

“And don’t give us a whole lecture about safety. That’s all bull.” Mike says. 

“Boys!” You scream. They all fall silent, not used to you ever raising your voice at them. You’ve only ever yelled at them once or twice, preferring to be the “cool” sister whenever you can, but right now they’re seriously pissing you off. 

“Let me speak.” When no one says anything, you continue. “I’m not going to stop you guys from looking for Will. In fact, I support it-”

“You do?”

You shoot Mike a death glare, which promptly shuts him up. “Yes, I do. However, I’m not letting you guys go alone.” 

The boys all groan at this, acting as if it’s the worst thing in the world to have you tag along with them. You ignore their complaining and head over to where your bike sits against the porch. You zip up your coat, the chill from the night making you shiver a bit. 

“No arguing, or I’ll call all your moms. Ours included, Dustin.”

“Why me?”

“Look, guys. I’m proud of you for stepping up, but I’m coming with. The last time I let one of you boys go off into the woods alone…” 

The boys shift uncomfortably now, realizing how heavy the guilt weighs upon you. After a few beats of silence, Mike finally gives in. 

“Fine,” he says, pointing a finger at you. “But the second you start to freak out, you’re gone.” 

You salute Mike, hopping on your bike as you all begin to bike away. The ride doesn’t take long, since you live just off of where Will was last seen. Thunder rumbles when you all approach the crime scene, and you shudder a bit. 

“It’s going to rain, guys.” You inform them. 

Dustin looks up at the sky with uncertainty. “I think maybe we should go back.”

Mike is quick to shut down the idea, urging the others to keep going. You admire his loyalty to Will, and you figure it’s why the two of you butt heads so often. Out of the entire group, you’re the most similar to him. 

Lucas and Mike go under the caution tape first, and Dustin hangs back. You place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “We can go back, you know.” 

He clenches his jaw, jutting his chin out a bit. “No, Will needs us.”

Your brother puffs out his chest and follows after his friends, leaving you to take up the rear. More thunder rumbles and the rain begins to come down. You flip your hood up, thankful you remembered to grab a hoodie when leaving. 

Mike guides the way with his flashlight, then Lucas, then Dustin, then you in the back. You make sure to keep your eyes on the three boys, scared that the second you look away they’ll be gone. The woods have always creeped you out, but you push your fear down to keep them safe. 

“Will!” Mike calls out, the rain now pouring down on you guys. 

“Byers!” 

“Will, little bee!” You call out as well. He never liked when you called him that in front of the others, but tonight was an exception. 

“I’ve got your X-Men 134!” Your brother bribes, unintentionally making you laugh a bit. If Will is nearby, he’ll surely come out to claim his prize. 

Your foot catches on a tree log, and you slip in the mud before just barely managing to catch yourself. It’s getting hard to see given how dark it is and the rain surrounding you. Dustin voices his concerns, only to be called a baby, and you bite your tongue. If you defend him, he’ll only look more like a baby to his friends. 

“I’m just being realistic!” He retaliates, which you commend him for. 

“Dustin’s right, guys. It’s getting really bad out here. We’re surrounded by a ton of trees, don’t they attract lightning?” You ask, now paranoid that you’ll be struck down any second. 

“You guys are being sissies.” Lucas taunts, annoyed as well. 

You try to argue, but Dustin voices a thought that’s been at the back of your mind. “Did you ever think Will went missing because he ran into something bad?”

You think back to how Hopper seemed worried when he investigated the Byers home. From what you can recall, he suspected that Will had been running away from something, explaining why he’d abandon his bike.

“And now we’re going to the exact same spot where he was last seen, and we have no weapons or anything?”

Maybe Dustin’s right. This definitely wasn’t your best idea, and you’re regretting letting them follow through with their plan. For someone who claims to want to keep their loved ones safe, you really suck at it. 

“Dustin, shut up.” Mike voices, though he now looks a bit concerned as well. 

“He’s right, Mike.” You speak up, stumbling a bit in more mud. Your shoes are definitely ruined, now. “I was at Jonathan’s when Hopper showed up, he thinks Will was running from something.” 

The boys go quiet now, and when you’re about to suggest going home, you hear rustling in the bushes. 

“Did you guys hear that?” Mike asks. 

Your heart stops as the rustling continues and you all start to twist and turn, looking for the source of the sound. The rustling gets louder, almost as if it’s getting closer, and you tighten your hand around your flashlight, ready to use it as a weapon just in case. 

Then, the light flashes upon a little girl, drenched in an oversized yellow shirt, shivering. Her head is shaved, but her small stature suggests to you that she is indeed a girl. You all stare at her, no one saying a thing. She stares back, a terrified look on her face that breaks your heart. 

“Holy shit,” you whisper. 

Her eyes land on you; something about her reminds you of Will, and  you know that nothing will be the same again.

-

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ if you would like to be added/removed from my taglist, just let me know :)

#steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things rewrite #slowburn #angst #wdtai #m's writing #honestly i just want to be jonathans bff #like its criminal that he doesnt have any real friends in the show until SEASON 4 #absolutely wild

[half-oz-eddie]

Journaling Billy is so personal for me.

Billy with a gratitude journal that he writes in every time something good happens, or someone does something nice for him.

He got the journal from a nurse at the hospital post-starcourt, who thought it would be a nice way for him to pass the time, while also lifting his spirits and helping him realize how much love and kindness is around him, even if he doubts it.

It's just a blue, soft cover bound book, but he humors the nurse because she's got warm, pretty eyes and reminds him of his mom.

He uses it often, even after leaving the hospital.

Steve catches him writing in his journal one day, and Billy tells him it's fine if he reads the gratitude journal but not his diary.

Steve, of course, is dying to see what's in the journal, what Billy considers nice, and what good things have been happening to the love of his life.

Aug 1, 1985 Everyone came to see me. Even those kids Harrington always babysits. That's nice, right?

Aug 5 Harrington brought me some food from some burger joint. It was good. I guess he's nice even though I was kind of a dick to him.

Aug 21 Harrington showed up to drive me home. I don't know why he's being so nice to me. It pisses me off because I think he just feels sorry for me. I'm probably using this journal the wrong way but I don't care. I can't talk to anybody about this. I'm not feeling that grateful for shit today.

Aug 25 Max helped me with my pain medication. I thought she hated me. She acts like everything's fine. I have to admit I’m grateful what happened only stays in my nightmares and I wake up to a different reality.

Aug 29 Harrington called to check on me. Offered to come over and play cards. He doesn't have to keep pretending. I like the company, though.

Sept 10th Max tried to stay home from school to look after me. I'm doing a lot better so I didn't need the help. I still don't understand why everyone's being so nice after what I did. Sept 14th Felt strong enough to go out for some air on my own. Saw Sinclair and that other kid. Think his name's Dustin. They were on their bikes. They waved and asked how I was doing. Told them I was fine and they rode off. Do I deserve their concern? Sept 15th Sinclair came back while I was on the porch. Asked for Max. I told him he couldn't be here because of Neil. We waited for Max a few houses down and talked about basketball. He's trying out for the team so I gave him some advice. It was a nice conversation. Didn't feel forced at all.

Sept 20th I told Lucas I was sorry for what happened that night. He said he'd forgotten all about it. I know the little shit was lying, but I guess he forgives me. That was cool of him.

Sept 29th Lucas made the team and thanked me for the advice. I don't feel like I did anything.

Oct 4th I'm feeling better than ever. Driving around on my own again. Nobody seems to blame me for what I did, and everyone's nice everywhere I go.

Oct 11th Went to see El. She's always kind to me. She's like the little sister I never had. She made me some waffles.

Oct 15th Saw Harrington again. It was warm so we went swimming in his pool. I really missed the water.

Oct 29th Haven't been writing much down. It feels like I'm saying the same things over and over. Everyone's always nice to me. Dad's not bothering me anymore. I feel like I have a lot of support around me. For once I feel safe. Oct 31st Went to a halloween party with Harrington. First time having a beer in months. Got a little too drunk and we kissed. He didn't seem to hate it. I didn't either.

Nov 9th Finally talked to Steve again after the kiss. He asked if I wanted to go steady. I said no at first, then changed my mind. I'm glad I did.

Steve smiled as he read every entry. Every few days, Billy's entries were longer and longer. He talked about things that made him smile, people he met, and how much he appreciated the simplest things. It was an amazing transformation. He continued to read the entries, his eyes widening when he read the most recent one. January 12th 1986 I'm falling in love with Steve. I was hoping he’d say it first but he hasn’t said anything. Maybe I’m too hopeful. He treats me like he loves me too, I think. But I’m not sure. Steve quickly closed the book, feeling like he'd violated Billy's privacy by reading something he hadn't known before. "Why so quiet, Steve? You read yesterday's entry, huh?" "I—yeah. I thought maybe you wrote it in the wrong journal."

"I didn't. I was gonna tell you, I just...I dunno. I didn't want you to think I was trying to move too fast."

Steve laughed. "You have no idea how relieved I am."

Billy narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

"Billy, I've been in love with you for weeks."

Billy snorted. "You're such a sap, pretty boy."

They shared a kiss and Billy wrote in his journal about how grateful he was, to love and be loved.

January 16th On August 21st last year, I was wrong. I have everything to be grateful for.

▪️▫️▪️

A little something to show my gratitude for reaching 400 followers. I appreciate all of you ❤️

Also tagging some friends I’ve met here that really belong in my gratitude journal for all the kindness they’ve shown lately and their posts just make me smile.

@shieldofiron @monsterpegger001 @dragonflylady77 @harringroveera @bigdumbbambieyes @brightside-of-the-upsidedown @thatgirlwithasquid

#harringrove fanfiction #ivy.doc #caliscoops.doc #caliscoops

[justmeinadaze]

We're a Family Part 22 (Steddie X You)

A/N: Get ready to feel old <3. I wrote Good Neighbors a little over a year ago and I've loved how they've evolved. I'm not done with this little family yet. I still have one more chapter with Dylan and then some ideas with an older Ro but, ugh, lol I feel how the reader feels when it comes to her first born.

Warnings: Dads Steddie/ Mama Fem Reader, SMUT, edging (they are still trying new things), handcuffs, etc, FLUFF, they love each other <3 and their kiddos, ANGST, someone from the past comes back to talk to the adult Munson-Harringtons and Dylan, Steve and Eddie struggle being protective over their eldest (Eddie just hides it better), lots of talk about Dylan growing up and leaving the nest and how these three feel about it.

Word Count: 5256

An 18-year-old Dylan bounces anxiously on his toes as you sort through the mail too slow for his liking. 

“MOM! Come on! Did anything come for me or not?”

Two years had passed since you reconnected with your mother and things had been going very well. She was always extremely busy with work but when she came over Aurora insisted on showing her all the movies she missed out on. 

“Grandma! Watch how cool this is!”, the seven-year-old squeals with delight as they focus on the film in front of them. The light saber flies past Kylo-Ren into Rey’s hand and Ro breathes a sigh of excitement.

“Ok, now explain to me again how ‘the force’ works.”, yoru mom asks as she leans forward over her crossed legs on the couch. 

You grin from your spot in the kitchen as you bump Eddie’s hip with yours. 

“Definitely your daughter, nerd.”

“Takes one to know one, princess.”

James was now a toddler causing all kinds of chaos around the Munson-Harrington home. His sticky fingers got into everything even some of the cabinets that you had believed were too high for him to reach. 

“James Wayne Munson Harrington.”, you scold with your hands on your hips as you watch him lean back and laugh with a wide smile that only rivaled that of his dad. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Plopping his butt down on the counter, he dangles his legs over the side as he reaches his tiny hand into the snack box and produces a chocolate chip cookie. 

“Mama cookie…Yames.”, he coos as he points to himself while struggling to say his name correctly. 

“Mhmm. Didn’t you just eat lunch?”

“For…for mama an Rara.”

“Don’t you bribe me and your sister with sweets, you little butthead.”

“Why are you being mean to our son?”, Steve asks as he rounds the corner into the kitchen.

“Because our son parkoured up the counter for a snack.”

The three-year-old giggles as he offers his dad a cookie that he accepts before lifting him into his arms and putting the box back in the cabinet. 

“What did we say, bud?”

“Ask.”

“That’s right. You have to ask first. Now give mommy a kiss as an apology and get out of here, you butthead.”

Dylan was halfway through his senior year of high school and applied to a lot of colleges but was anxious to be accepted to a certain one because that’s where Daisy was going. The two of them had continued to date and see each other which you didn’t mind. What killed you however was that because of her family she was looking at a school that was a few states away. You had never been that far from your son and it scared you.

“I don’t know. I see bills and ads. Let me take my time to really read these though.” Dylan huffs making you smile as you give him a hug. He was so much taller than you now, your head resting against his chest as you wrapped your arms around him. “Everything’s going to be ok, weirdo. You’ll hear something soon. There’s still some time.” 

***

Steve ran his hands over his eyes exhaustedly while grading papers during his lunch. With winter break coming up, he wanted to get everything out of the way so he could take these next couple of weeks to spend some time with the kids especially Dylan. When he had mentioned going to school out of state, of course, he was proud and encouraged him to apply but he’d be lying if he didn’t say the idea of his son being so far away broke his heart.

“Stevie?”

The sound of Eddie’s voice calmed him as he smiled towards the door his husband was leaning against. 

“Hey you. What are you doing here?”

“You, uh, just started your lunch hour right?”

Steve knew that tone, something was going on that the metalhead was afraid would upset him. 

“Yeah? Everything ok?” As he turned his head towards the hall, your ex-husband stepped into view. “No. Nope. Not happening.”

“Give us a second.”, Eddie gestured towards Charlie before entering the classroom and closing the door. “Steven, calm down.”

“Calm down? Why the fuck is he here?! Whatever he wants the answer is no.”

“Baby, sit. Please? At least hear me out first.” Steve huffed as he folded his arms and pouted while Eddie sat on his desk in front of him. “I get it. Trust me I do but I felt like…for what he’s asking we should talk about it at most. He wanted to speak to us both first out of respect because we are Dylan’s dads.”

“Damn right.”

“He’s not asking to spend time with him again or anything like that. Charlie doesn’t think Dylan would even want that but… he’s asking to see him graduate.”

“Are you fucking kidding me, Edward Munson?!”, Steve practically shouts as he rises to his feet.

“Shhhh.”, the metalhead tries to calm him doing the same.

“No! He hasn’t earned that fucking right. He hasn’t been here AT ALL in over 5 years. Why is that?! Oh, that’s right, he signed him over. Charlie had plenty of chances to be there for him and he failed! WE raised him and he thinks he can just waltz back in and be a part of something like that?!”

“Steve! Breathe.”, Eddie tries to sooth as he cups his face in his hands. “Breathe. I get where you are coming from. I said all of the same things to him when he came to the shop. But… I get it from Dylan’s side to. Remember when I finally graduated? I was so excited that Wayne was there but there was still a part of me… that wished my mom and dad could see me finally do it to. A lot of that was to spite them and show them I could do it.”, he chuckled making Steve smile. “But a lot of it was also the little kid in me wanting them there.”

The man in his arms heavily exhaled before tilting forward to kiss his lips and gesturing for Eddie to bring him in.

“I warned you before, Charlie, about hurting my son. If we talk to him and he wants you there and you don’t show up…I swear to God—”

“No, no. I understand. I’ll move heaven and earth to be there I swear.”

“Yeah to bad you couldn’t do that for him or Brody before.”

“Steve.”, Eddie warned.

“No, he’s right. I always said I’d never be like my stepdad yet… I’m, um, glad he’s had you two. I’m working with Vivian to be there for Brody. I’m trying…”

“You understand if he or Y/N says no, then the answer is no?”

“Yeah, I understand. Thank you for hearing me out though. I know I don’t deserve it.”

***

Your eyes constantly raked across them during dinner while they ate. Both men seemed completely distracted but especially Steve. 

“I’m done. I’m going to go play games upstairs.”, Dylan announces as he stands from the table. 

“Ah, kid, do you mind staying for a bit?”, Eddie asked throwing the two of you off guard. “Are you done to?”, he asks Ro as she beams up at him with her messy face. 

“Yes, daddy.”

“Good. Can you take this troublemaker and go watch tv please?”, he laughs as Steve blind sides her with a napkin to wipe her mouth and the other boy pulls James out of his chair, placing him on the floor. 

Aurora grabs her brother’s hand, giggling as they run to the tv in the living room. They wait until the sound of a show blares from that area before Eddie leans forward on his elbows and Steve leans back folding his arms. 

“I don’t know how to ease into this so I’m just going to say it. Charlie came to visit me and Steve today.”

Your eyes widen as your head ticks to the side while Dylan sighs mirroring Steve’s posture. 

“Whatever it is the answer is no.”

“Y/N…please. He said all he wanted was to see Dylan graduate from high school.”

“After everything he’s done?!”

“Yeah, I already went down that road, baby, but Eddie seems to think it’s worth the conversation.”, Steve exhaled heavily. 

“Do you?”, his son asked. “What did you say when he asked?”

“I told him that it was up to you and Y/N. If you two said you were fine with it—”

“But you don’t want him there?”

Steve glances towards Eddie who gives him a look of subtle warning.

“No, I don’t.”, he answers honestly causing the metalhead to huff in frustration. “I don’t feel like he’s earned that luxury after everything he’s done and put you through. But…I also feel like it’s your choice. If you want him there then he should be there. You know no matter what, kid, you’re still my son. It won’t hurt my feelings if you want him there.”

“Our feelings.”, Eddie added. “I get what Steve is saying but I’ve been on the other side. My dad was in prison when I graduated. I was ecstatic Wayne was there but…”

Dylan’s soft eyes shift towards you as he reaches for your hand. 

“Mom?”

“I just…I don’t want him to hurt you. I don’t you to get your hopes up and then he doesn’t show.”

“Oh, don’t worry. Stevie already threatened him if he didn’t show.”, Eddie grinned making your son laugh. 

“I’d, um, I’d like to talk with him before I make a decision if that’s alright.”

***

“Baby?”, Eddie cooed as he came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist while you leaned in the doorway of James’s room. Steve had fallen asleep in the toddler’s little racecar bed, his frame much too big for the mattress underneath as his legs hung off the side. His arm was holding the small boy to his side as he rested his sleeping head on his father’s chest. 

“Eddie, why do you think everything with Charlie affects him so much more?”

“Hm, sweetheart, it affects us both about the same but Steve here just sucks at hiding it. I love Dylan with my heart and would do anything for him. I’d be lying if I said the idea of him going to graduation doesn’t make me angry but if that’s what our son wants then I want him to be happy.” You nod at his statement, giving the man pause. “How does it make you feel? Be honest.”

“I don’t want him to go. I don’t…trust that he’ll actually show up. I feel like Steve right now where I just want to tell Dylan that we’re his parents and the answer is no so we can protect him.”

“The problem with that, my love, is you don’t know for 100% if that will be the outcome. I mean look at what happened with your mom.”

“Eddie, he’s my baby.”

“I know, babe. I know.”, he soothes as he turns you around and wraps you in his arms. 

***

“When he gets here, do you want us to leave you two alone?”, the metalhead asked as the three of them waited at a table in the nearby Hawkins Diner.

“Not like alone, alone though. We’d be a couple of tables away.”, Steve assured confidently, trying to push down all of the emotions he was feeling. 

“Can you stay, please? I’d be lying if I didn’t say I’m a little terrified.”

“Terrified how, bud? You don’t have to do this if you’re uncom—”

“Steve! Calm down, sweetheart.”, Eddie chuckles as he rubs his back comfortingly. 

Dylan reached for his father’s hand and flashed him a big smile. 

“Everything’s going to be ok, dad. No matter what you both are always going to be my real fathers.”

As they beamed over at him, a figure caught Eddie’s eye as it quickly turned to leave. 

“Hey, I’m, uh, I’m going to go smoke before he gets here. I’ll be right back.”

Throwing on his jacket, the long-haired boy hastily power walked towards the front door, opening it just in time to see Charlie heading back to his truck. 

“HEY! No. No, no, no, no.”, he shouted as he ran to block his path. “No. You are NOT doing this to him. You’re here now just get the fuck in there and talk to him.”

“I-I-I can’t. I saw him and… he looks so different now. That’s not my little boy anymore. I can’t do this. I can’t—”

Eddie abruptly shoved the man against his vehicle, cutting him off. 

“You’re right. He’s not a little boy anymore. Unfortunately, you missed that because you were too fucking selfish. Now you have a chance to be a part of his adult life if that’s what he wants but, Charlie, if you walk away now that is never going to happen. Don’t be a fucking coward. He’s a good kid.”

“Because of you two. He fucking hates me.”

“Believe it or not, he doesn’t. Dylan thinks YOU hate HIM.”

“What? No. I love him and Brody so much.”

“Then where the fuck have you been?!”, he sighs releasing him from his hold. “He’s graduating with honors and a baseball scholarship to any school he chooses. He wants to go to a school up north with his girlfriend to major in music and education so he can become a music teacher. Dylan has worked so hard to get here. Don’t ruin it with your bullshit.”

Eddie shakes his head as he saunters back inside and plops down next to Steve. 

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”, he grins but his husband can see right through it. 

Placing his arm around the back of his chair, he leans close to his ear. 

“You’ll tell me later?”

A throat clears startling everyone as they turn to see Charlie standing beside the table. 

“Hi. Hey.”, his voice trembles as he shakes Eddie and Steve’s hands before turning to give Dylan his attention. “Hey, um, wow. Jesus. You look so much like your mom.”

“Oh. Uh, thank you. She thinks I look like you. To be fair she thinks none of her kids look like her.”

“Yeah? How many siblings do you have now?”

“Not including Brody, two. A sister and another brother.”

Your ex nods taking a seat as Dylan folds his arms over his chest. The guys were trying their best to stay as out of the way as they could while still being present for their son.

“So, uh--”

“Why do you want to come to my graduation?”, the boy asked bluntly. “My entire life you never went to anything that I was involved in and then signed me away. Why do you care?”

“I didn’t…sign you away… I just…I was never good at being a dad.”

“Why didn’t you try? Was it because of me?”

“No. God, no. Dylan, to me you were…are… absolutely perfect. I love you with all my heart. That’s why I signed those papers. After talking with your mom, I realized these two would be a better father for you than I ever could.”

Your son nods, sighing under his breath as he collects his thoughts. 

“Mom will be there and Vivian to. Is that going to be a problem?”

“Oh, uh, no. I didn’t realize they were talking to each other.”

“They aren’t. Dylan wanted to get to know Brody and Vivian missed him so Y/N lets him go to her house on the weekends.”, Steve explained. 

“Wow. It seems a lot has changed.”

“It’s been 5 years, Charlie. What did you expect?”

Your ex flinched at the sound of Dylan using his name but unlike the incident with Steve, it didn’t bother your son. He had long since moved past feeling like Charlie was his dad and could honestly never see himself calling him that again. 

“I don’t want you to go to my graduation but, maybe, we could get together and get to know each other again. Work our way up to having a relationship… I mean if mom and my dads are okay with it.”

“Yeah, Dil. I’d like that.”

Hearing Charlie call him that again stuck a raw nerve he kept tucked away for the last five years causing him to abruptly rise from his seat. 

“Ok, I’m ready to go now.”, he announces without waiting for an answer and flying out the front door. 

“Thank you guys for this. Tell Y/N I said thank you to.”

“Oh, she didn’t approve of this either. I’m the only one that seems to be slightly on your side but that’s because I know what it’s like to have your father abandon you.”, Eddie exhales as he and Steve get up as well.

“I didn’t…I didn’t abandon him.”

“Yeah, sure. Neither did my dad. He just boosted cars and ended up in jail for the rest of his life. It’s not his fault.”, he responded sarcastically. “Step one on rebuilding your relationship with him Charlie… Own your mistakes.”

################

“No Grandpa! You have to wear the crown because you’re a princess.”, Aurora giggled as she places the colorfully crown she created out of paper onto Wayne’s head. 

“I’m a princess? Not a King?”

“No.”, she laughs harder, cover her mouth with her little hand. 

Beaming over at them from your place on the floor, you and James continue to color in his little coloring book Eddie’s uncle had brought over. 

“Granpa, purty.”

“Thank you, James. I do feel beautiful.”

The alarm beeps as the front door opens and you do everything in your power not to get up to run to them anxiously. 

“Oh wow, Wayne. I must say, you make a gorgeous queen.”, Eddie teases.

“For your information, son, I’m a princess.”

The metalhead chuckles as they come to sit by you in the living room and your son immediately crawls to Steve to show him his pictures. 

“Dada, look.”

The sound of Dylan’s feet subtly bang up the stairs as he heads for his room and closes the door. 

“He’s ok, baby. Just needs some time alone.”, your husband assures. 

“What happened? Did he show up?” They gave you a recount of everything that happened including Eddie telling you both about him almost leaving. “I can’t say I’m not happy he won’t be going but who knows. Maybe in these six months Dylan may change his mind.”

The next couple of days went by with little to no fan fair as Christmas break finally came. That Friday after coming home from work, you checked the mail like you normally do except a college insignia catches your eye. Running full speed into the house, you drop everything as you scream your son’s name.

“Jesus Christ, woman. What is happening?!”, Eddie exclaims as he slides in from the kitchen.

As Dylan sprints down the stairs with Steve in tow, you present him with the envelope he had been waiting weeks for. Hastily, he yanks it from your grasp and tears it open as you dance on the balls of your feet. 

“Oh my god.”

“What? Is it good news? Bad news?”

With wide tear-filled eyes, a small grin spreads along his face. 

“I got in.”

All the adults in the room shout in excitement as you tackle hug your arms around him. 

“Baby, oh my god. I’m so proud of you!”

“Good job, Dylan.”, Eddie beams. “You’ll be the first Munson to go to college.”

“I’m proud of you to, little man.”, Steve smiles softly as he gives the boy a hug. 

“I’m going to go call Daisy. I love you guys!”, he declares as he speeds back up to his room. 

The metalhead holds up his index finger in your direction as both men tilt their head and wait for his door to close before the other boy nods. As soon as you get the go ahead, you fall into their arms and begin to cry. 

“I know, baby. He grew up too fast. We’re going to miss him to.”

***

“Ok, I finally got Aurora and James to sleep. Eddie is in the kitchen eating Santa’s cook—“, Steve froze when he finally entered the bedroom and noticed the image before him. 

You were sitting on the edge of the bed in a velvet red lingerie dress that cut off just so on your thigh barely hiding your panty less crotch with the white fluff that wrapped around the bottom. Your hair was curled and flowed down your shoulders as the Santa hat you wore sat perfectly on your head. 

“I thought you two could open this present early.”, you grin in a seductive voice as you cross your legs and lean back on your hands. 

“Eddie…”, Steve tried to call with a needy crack in his tone. “E-Ed-Eddie… EDWARD!”

“What!?”, the metalhead whisper shouts making you giggle. “Dude, lower your voice. You’re gonna wake—” While he was talking, the man pulled his collar to hurry him up and your grin grew as the other boy’s mouth fell open as well. 

“Get in here, you dorks.”, you tease as you get up, pull them both into the bedroom, and shut the door. “I was thinking we could try something Eddie has mentioned a few times.”

“Oh my god, I’m so in love with you.”, Steve sighs happily as he lifts you into his arms and spins you around before placing a kiss on your lips. “Do we get to handcuff him? Please tell me we do!”

“If you both want.”

Eddie giddily climbs into the bed, kissing your lips before a thought crosses his mind. 

“Wait, we haven’t handcuffed Steve to the bed yet and I feel like this whole edging thing would be way more fun to do to him… Mr. I’m-the-big-protector-guy.”

The pretty boy rolls his eyes as he falls on to his back, lifting off his shirt, and throwing it in his husband’s face playfully. 

Pushing some of your hair behind your ear, you restrain him to the headboard as the metalhead pulls off the boy’s sweats and boxers. 

“Should we have like a safe word or something? You both get sensitive quickly and I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”, you ask in a soft, loving voice that makes him smile. 

“I’ve heard ‘Red’ is a good word.”, Eddie offers, grinning when you both nod in affirmation. 

“Say ‘Red’ if I’m uncomfortable. Got it.”, Steve repeats, smirking when you put your Santa hat on his head. “You know, you’re pretty sensitive to, fyi.” 

“I guess next time, we’ll have to test that theory.”, you tease as you run your palm through the hair on his chest and over to his side. “Ok, my love, do you want to start since you’re the sexual deviant that’s been looking up this stuff?”

The long-haired boy smiles mischievously as he leans over the other boy’s stomach to kiss your lips. 

“You…like…it.”, Eddie coos between each peck. 

As you continue to rub his chest, Steve’s breathing stutters as the man he loves take his cock in his warm hands and begins slowly stroking him. 

“How does that feel, baby?”

“G-good. Really good. I like when y-you both touch me.”

Your palm slides up his neck to his cheek and he tenderly kisses your thumb as it grazes his lips. Shifting your body, you curl up on his side as you listen to the sound of Eddie spit over his tip and smear it along his length making Steve’s mouth open in a silent O.

“Fuck, Eddie, baby.”

Trailing kisses along his side, your hands and nails continue to roam his upper torso as his back arches at the sensations. As your husband’s ringed hand pumps him faster, Steve bites his bottom lip to suppress the loud moan that wants to escape. 

“You look so handsome like this.”, you whisper as you tenderly move some of his hair away from his face. “Keep talking to us, Stevie. Please.”

“C-Can’t.”

“Why?”

“Too…too good.”

Beaming towards the other man, he winks at you as he drops another glob of spit over Steve’s tip as the boy ruts up into his hand. You both know his tells for when he’s about to let go; you’ve all studied each other very well over these past almost 12 years. Just as Steve was nearing his release…Eddie let him go and leaned back on his knees. 

“N-No. No, no, no!”

“How are we feeling now, Harrington?”

The man huffed as he tugged on his restraints before groaning with need as Eddie wrapped his lips around his cock taking him all the way down to the back of his throat. After kissing his lips, you trailed your own down his chest to his stomach and stopping just above the base of shaft. 

The metalhead came off him with a syrupy smack, stroking the man with his hand as he leaned towards you to passionately kiss your lips. The two of you played with Steve for a good long while, taking turns bringing him to the edge just before pulling back. His cock was dripping with both your saliva, angry and red from all the teasing. 

As you glanced his way, his eyes were squeezed shut as he muttered things under his breath. 

“Steve, honey? Are you ok?”

His eyes opened abruptly, meeting yours with a fire you hadn’t seen from him in a very long time.

“Eddie, let him go.”, you breathily moaned as his intense gaze never left yours. 

The moment the cuffs came off, Steve’s sweaty frame practically tackled your own as he lifted you into his arms and spun you around making you giggle at his earnestness as your head hit the pillows. His lips devoured yours as if it had been ages since he tasted your kisses. Hissing at your touch, you reached between you both and guided him into your entrance. Before he could make any kind of movement, Eddie took hold of his hips and slide into the man above you. 

Steve was anything but gentle as he slammed his lower half into you both desperately chasing his release. 

“Oh…oh my God, baby. Just like that.”, you whimpered as his head feel beside you, latching his lips to your neck. 

Glancing up to your other husband, his hair blocked his face as he grunted and clung to Steve’s waist as he met each thrust with a hard, rough one of his own. 

The bed underneath you began to shake and the metalhead quickly reached up to hold it still with his palm.

“Fuck, Steve. You feel so fucking good. I love you, baby. M-Make me cum.”

Clinging to his hair and back, he pounded into you till the coil snapped and your pussy clenched tightly around him. The sound he made in your ear drove you crazy as his body trembled on top of yours and you felt his seed release inside of you. As he aggressively thrust it deep into your cunt, Eddie fell against his back, and held his chest as he came inside of the man below him.  

“Jesus fucking Christ, that was amazing.”, the metalhead panted. “Steve, sweetheart, are you ok?”

“I think he fell asleep.”, you giggled as you petted the boy’s head. “Stevie, baby?”

“Hm?”, he grumbled as he snuggled closer to you.

“Are you alright?”

“Hmm…mmhmm…”, he nodded. 

“As much as I would love for you to fall asleep inside of me, it’s Christmas eve. You know at 7am those kids are going to burst through our door.”

Groaning, he nods as he rolls off you with Eddie immediately ready with a pair of boxers and rag to wipe him off. After making sure Steve was set, your husband grinned as he lifted you into his arms, disrobed you, and placed you in the shower as he delicately cleaned you. 

“I love you to, baby.”, you smile up at him as he kisses your forehead. 

“I love you even more. You looked really gorgeous in that outfit and I’m sure Steven will agree when he’s more coherent.”, he chuckles. 

Wrapping your arms tightly around his waist, he does the same as he rests his chin on your head. 

“You know these next few months I’m going to need you two to help me hold it together.”

“I know, sweetheart. I can’t even picture Dylan not being in this house anymore. God, and we’re both going to have to be on Steve duty because you know he’s going to be a mess to.”

################

While Eddie and Steve sip their coffee, you pat James’s back as he curled up around you after opening all his presents and went back to sleep. 

While Aurora was distracted with her morning cartoons, Dylan had gone upstairs to change and came back down just as your doorbell rang. Passing the baby to one of his fathers, you threw on your jacket and opened the front door to a fiddling Charlie. 

“Oh, um, hey Y/N. Merry…Merry Christmas.”

“Yeah, so you’re taking him to Vivian’s?”

“Um, yes, ma’am. She’s letting me spend the day with Brody so I asked Dylan if he wanted to join and he said yes.”

Turning to your son, you fixed his ski cap before kissing his cheek. 

“No detours to Daisy’s ok? I want you home straight after for dinner.”

Smiling at you, he jogs towards your ex’s truck and quickly climbs into the heat. 

“Thank you for this. I really appreciate it…after everything.”

“Don’t thank me, Charles. Thank those men in there. I still think this is a bad idea because of everything but we all just want our son to be happy. But I swear to God…I’m not the same woman I was 18 years ago. If you hurt him—”

“I know…your, uh, boyfriends threatened me already.”

“Husbands. Oh, they’ll be the first wave but I’ll be the finishing move. I’m not weak anymore.”

“You never were.” His response startles you as you hug your arms tighter around your body and he softly smiles. “I’ll have him back in a few hours.”

As you reentered the house, their eyes watched you as you sit beside them on the couch still hugging yourself. Ringed fingers threaded through your hair before turning you to face them. 

“Everything ok?”

“Yeah. It’s just weird seeing Charlie be this way.”

“I can understand that. It’s like if my dad came through that door with a smile and a Santa level of presents.”, Steve sighed. 

“Are you both ok? I told him to be home for dinner that way after we eat maybe you three can play that new game we got him.”

“It’s whatever he wants, baby. I try to remember what it was like when I was his age and I never wanted to be home.”, the pretty boy laughs. “So, the fact that he likes hanging out with us at all makes me happy.”

Eddie nods in agreement as James wiggles in his embrace. 

“Daddy. Yames…hungee…”, the boy babbles as he taps his mouth with his palm. 

“I guess it is that time to start fattening him up so we can have him plump enough to eat for dinner later.”

“No, daddy! Don’t be mean to James.”, Aurora scolds as her brother giggles. 

“Come on, you. Let’s see if Santa left us anymore cookies in our pantry.”

#########

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#steddie x reader #steddie fluff #steddie smut #steddie fanfiction #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie fanfic #eddie stranger things #steve fanfic #steve smut #steve stranger things #joe keery #joseph quinn #stranger things #fan fiction

[highdramas]

hey bae!! can i pls request a fluffy steve harrington imagine, s3/s4 er’s with the fake dating friends to lovers trope? ty!!

eeeee i loved this!!! i drew some inspo from to all the boys i've loved before <3 love a shy reader moment!!! thank you for sending and i hope you enjoy [wc: 3249.] <3

--

you don't know how the letters got out. how the hell would the letters have gotten out?

you're going through things to get rid of in preparation of going to college-- sure, you were just going to school in indianapolis, but it was better than staying this hell hole of a town even one second longer-- but the hatbox was gone. no, not gone. worse. it was empty.

the expletive you let out has your father screaming from down the hall. "what did i say about language?!"

"sorry!" you squeak as you continue to throw clothes over your shoulders, furrowed brows. "no, no, no..." you groan and cover your face with your hands. this is cruel. god is a cruel, petty thing, you decide.

haven't you been good? you volunteer at the humane society. you never got detention in high school. you'd never stolen anything. you liked to think that you were a good person-- quiet, maybe. introverted, definitely. shy more than anything. and, well, that's how you got into this debacle in the first place.

a hopeless romantic by nature, you could never fathom truly confessing to the loves of your lives. especially considering all of those loves definitely did not feel the same way towards you. i mean-- was king steve going to have a crush on you? no way. which was why it was easy to write your love confession on the page, seal it up, address, stamp, and all-- and place it in the hatbox to never be seen again.

until now.

"honey--" you hear your mother call from downstairs. "someone's asking for you on the phone."

"who?!" you yell back, gripping the banister.

"steve harrington."

your blood goes cold.

you would take ten extra volunteer shifts at the humane society if it meant that all of this would go away.

you shuffle downstairs and take the phone from your mom, leaning against the wall, glancing from right to left as if he was really there with you. "hello?"

"and his hair-- he has the most gorgeous hair i've ever seen. i want to run my hands through it and--"

"STOP!" you run your hand over your face and squeeze your eyes shut. "oh my god, literally, please--"

"oh, c'mon. i'm giving you shit. you know, this whole letter is really sweet. you're a good writer. and sending right before you go off to college? bold move. i respect it." steve's voice has the warmth of a smile embedded into it. you can picture him on the other line, the crisp strawberry stationary in his big hand.

you don't know why you had picked strawberries for steve. it seemed fitting at the time.

breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth, you say slowly, "that wasn't meant to get to you. and, for the record, that was written, like, three years ago."

"wow. you wound me. well, either way, really boosted my ego. i figured i would come by and thank you in person. you live off church street, right? the little green house?"

stammering, you can barely get a word out before he says, "okay, cool, i thought so. see you in ten."

and he hangs up on you. just like that.

it reminds you exactly why your crush on king steve went away in the first place.

--

steve makes it to your house in eight minutes. he comes right up to the door and knocks, and when you open it, frantic and frazzled and with your sweater on backwards, he looks you up and down.

"your tag's sticking out." he tucks it back in for you. "and... it's backwards."

"i realize that now."

"great."

for a moment you're just staring at one another. then steve cracks a smile. "c'mon. can i get you, like, a milkshake or something? you look a little shaky, some sugar would probably--"

but everything goes silent. because approaching your door behind steve is ryan stewart, holding a letter of his own.

"fuck," you hiss under your breath, eyes darting to steve.

"woah, she curses! cool. i always thought you were super uptight, you know--" his words are cut off when you take him by the face and bring him to you, your lips crashing against his. it's slightly awkward; you're mostly kissing his top lip and your noses are crushed together a bit. but his hand finds a home on your waist and you feel his fingertips grip into your skin slightly. when you pull away, you can feel the fire on your face. and when you look over steve's shoulder at ryan, you feel a sick sort of triumph.

"milkshakes sound great, steve," you say the words loud enough for ryan to hear and you wrap your arm around his, calling over your shoulders to your parents that you'll be back soon. the look on steve's face is nothing short of befuddled, but when he turns around and sees ryan stewart standing there with a letter in hand, something seems to click into place.

he shifts your position from an awkward arm lock to a natural draping of his arm across your shoulder. he offers ryan a smile that says-- hey, can i help you? "hey, stewart," he says, nodding his head at him as he walks by.

ryan opens his mouth to say something but steve has already shuffled you into his car. he even opened the door for you. by the time the two of you are inside and steve is driving away, ryan has barely turned in his spot.

silence fills the car. you touch your bottom lip and you feel steve's eyes on you. "well," he begins. "your technique could use some work, but not a bad kiss, all things considered."

dumbfounded where you sit, you slowly glance over at him to see him wearing the biggest smirk imaginable.

and some of your lipstick.

you groan and cover your face with your hands, a muffled, "i'm sorry." getting out. barely. all you can hear is his laughter and when you drop your hands, you can't help but admire just how pretty he looks when he's laughing.

"you don't have anything to be sorry for. a pretty girl kissed me? wow, what a hardship." steve looks over at you. "i'm more curious as to what ryan stewart did to make you kiss me like that."

crossing your arms over your chest, you look out the window. "okay, well-- remember when i told you about the letters?" he nods his head. "well, like i said, you're not the only one who got one. you, ryan, eddie munson, and a boy from summer camp when i was twelve. instead of risking embarrassment and putting my feelings out there, i wrote the letters. and i always felt better when i did."

steve is quiet for a moment before he says, "that's sorta sad, and doesn't answer my question, really."

you roll your eyes and continue. "well, ryan's letter was different than the other ones. it was... a heartbreak letter. ryan and i had dated for six months last year but wanted to keep it a secret. from everyone. and then he ended things with me and got with someone else. prom king and queen." your head falls back against the headrest. "so i wrote how i felt. just like i always do. and you know what? you getting your letter, fine. eddie? he'll be nice about it. the boy from summer camp? who knows if he even got his. but that letter getting out..." you shrug, feeling meek in all the worst ways. "i didn't want him to feel sorry for me. or think that i'm sad and hung up over him, because i'm not. and you were... right there. and i wanted him to see that someone else would kiss me. in public." you press your lips together. "i realize that also sounds sad."

"it does, but not because of you. it sounds sad because ryan is a total dickhead." steve pulls into the parking lot of the diner and he turns and looks at you. "i think i have an idea."

--

"this'll never work."

"it'll absolutely work," steve says with a grin. "it'll make ryan jealous as hell, and remind girls what they're missing when they're not going out with me. i mean, it's basically foolproof. and at the end we go our separate ways with no ill will for one another. c'mon-- give credit where credit is due."

you slide your milkshake closer to yourself and take a long sip. "well, how long do we do this for?"

"you're moving away in three months for school. that seems like a good chunk of time, don't you think?" steve leans forward on his forearms. "look, i know i say a lot, but you don't have to do this if you don't want to. it was just... an idea." he shrugs and you don't know if you've ever seen steve so... sheepish before.

"no. no. it's... it's a good idea, unfortunately." you pause. "but there's going to need to be rules!"

"rules! rules, we can do rules. easy. what rules are you thinking?"

"well... how much time are we going to spend together? how much will we kiss? we're gonna have to go out in order for people to see about us and hear about us, so where are we gonna go? what about--"

steve's hand reaches out and covers yours. it's warm, and calloused slightly. like he's a star baseball player. "we'll figure all of that out. i promise." his thumb swipes across your skin. "contrary to popular belief, i do know how to date someone. how to make someone feel... special." he peers at you. "i can do that stuff for you, too. you know--" he clears his throat. "to make it all more believable."

breathless, you nod your head. "yeah," you smile. "believable."

--

you and steve harrington were the absolute talk of hawkins, indiana. one month into this... experiment and everyone had an opinion, everyone had a comment. even the kiss in front of ryan had become public knowledge. ryan told one person, one told another person, who told five people... and suddenly, after feeling mostly invisible through your high school career, you feel very visible. almost uncomfortably so.

but steve is a good partner in it. there's a reason why you wrote him a letter those years ago-- maybe even then you had seen something in him that other people didn't always recognize. regardless of the bravado, you always felt like there was something... soft about him. a soft underbelly that few people ever got. and now, you know that you were right all along.

because after a day at park, rolling around in the grass and reading to steve and looking around to see who's watching... he could be anywhere else. but he's here, at your house, with you. watching grease.

"your hair kinda reminds me of danny's," you say with a smile. you reach across the couch and run your hand through it; in the weeks that you've been putting on this ruse, you've gotten extremely comfortable around steve. that part is not fake. not one bit. "i like it."

steve smiles and settles further into your couch. "well, does that make you my sandy?"

"i guess so." you scrunch your nose up. "but i never really liked sandy's ending. i mean, why should she change herself to fit in with everyone else? she knows who she is. i never thought that was fair." you scoot a little closer to steve, subconsciously. you'd both agreed that no one could know about your arrangement, especially not your parents. so you supposed that sitting close to him on the couch wasn't that weird.

even if your parents weren't home.

"it's not fair. sandy was cute before the jumpsuit." steve shrugs his shoulders and looks over at you. there's a silence as you two stare at each other. "i'm cool with you being my sandy," the corner of his mouth turns up and he opens his arms. "c'mere."

"steve-- my parents aren't home, we don't have to--"

"it's not for anyone to see. you don't like to cuddle?"

you huff and settle into his arms, your cheek squished against the strong plane of his chest, your legs stretched out across the couch. "of course i like to cuddle."

"that's what i thought."

you both fell asleep like that. you're awoken by steve's gentle touch, brushing your hair from your eyes and shaking your shoulder. "hey-- hey, baby, we fell asleep."

you grumble but don't make any moves to get up any time soon. you feel steve's laugh on your cheek more than you hear it. "alright, you leave me no choice--" you groan in discontent when he slips out from under you. but then he's scooping you up into his arms.

steve takes you up the stairs and into your bedroom, laying you down gently. he pulls back the covers and tucks you beneath them. your eyes flutter open to find him watching you with a lovely smile. truly lovely-- it's the smile that gives you butterflies. "you can't stay?" you whisper, and if you were fully awake, you'd be mortified for asking such a thing.

"don't want to get you in trouble." he pushes your hair back and kisses your cheek, your forehead. "i'll come by in the morning, take you to breakfast. how's that sound?"

you nod your head and yawn. your hand rubs at his arm, a matching smile on your own face. "okay."

"okay," steve whispers. he leans forward and kisses your cheek again. "sweet dreams. see you in the morning."

--

you're not sure how three months went by so quickly.

you also don't know how to reckon with the fact that they went by so quickly because you loved every single moment of them.

it wasn't just that steve was a good fake boyfriend-- steve was just a good person. a good friend. every moment that you spent around him, you wanted to bottle that moment up and live in it forever. he was, whether you wanted to admit it or not, your favorite person.

ryan was an afterthought. none of this was for him, anymore. this... it was all for steve.

"where should i put this one?" steve asks, holding up a box labeled books. "you have, like fifty books boxes. do you even get a bookshelf in your dorm?"

your childhood bedroom is in tatters, picked apart and almost all packed up for your drive tomorrow. you'd be staying at steve's tonight prior to your drive. an occurrence that wasn't all that rare, anyway. you always slept side by side, and it always ended with his strong arms wrapped all around you.

steve and the kids would be there for your send off. another wonderful addition to bringing steve into your life-- the kids that came along with him. dustin was your favorite, but you weren't going to tell that to the others.

and while three months ago, you couldn't wait to get out of hawkins... you don't feel that same excitement now. you're still excited, definitely, but... you have something that you're going to be missing, now. you hadn't exactly planned for that.

you have someone who you'll be missing.

"i can always make room for books," you say, turning your nose up at steve. "you can set it there," you point to another stack of boxes. "thanks for helping."

"'course. that's what a boyfriend's there for."

silence falls over the two of you and you think that steve realizes what he said, because he suddenly goes rigid as he sets the box down with the others. "i mean-- like, a friend. a boy that's a friend. and also your fake boyfriend. i--" he sighs and rubs his face. "fuck."

setting down the tape in your hand, you turn your attention more fully to steve. his hand drops and he meets your gaze and for the first time, you can see everything written all over his face. like he's dropped a mask that's been hiding his real, true feelings. or maybe you'd just been too blind to see it. "say that again."

"a boy that's a friend?"

"no. before that."

he pauses. "that's... that's what a boyfriend is there for?"

you nod your head slowly. "is that... is that how you view yourself? with me? my boyfriend... for real?"

steve's cheeks start to go pink. "i mean... i know you're my best friend. and i know that i fucking love being around you. and i know that... i know that shit started to get a little blurry for me. probably a few months ago. i-- you know, i just... i don't really feel like i'm pretending anymore." he blinks and you can see the nerves on his body. it's what leads you to cross the room towards him and take his hand in yours. "is that... is that what you want?"

"steve," you whisper. "you got a letter in the first place because when i was fifteen i was crazy about you. and i think... i think i've always been a little crazy about you. so... yes. that's what i want."

gentle fingertips trace down your jaw. "i guess not much changes, anyway." he smirks a little. "we've been dating for..."

"three months. two days." you shrug your shoulders as his eyes widen. "i pay attention, i guess..."

steve laughs and he brings you in by the waist, burying his face into the crook of your neck. "that's my girl." he goes quiet. "i'm gonna miss you. i was always gonna miss you, but... you know, indianapolis isn't far. i'll come and visit. you'll come home for holidays. we'll... we'll be fine."

your fingers run through steve's hair. "i'm gonna miss you too. what you said earlier? about me being your best friend? you're mine too."

he squeezes your waist and it wrings another smile out of you. steve makes you hopelessly lovesick, in the best of ways.

--

steve ended up driving up with you, helping you set up your dorm alongside your parents. and after you shed your tears when your parents left, after you anxiously paced the floor anticipating the moment that steve would have to leave. "hey, hey, hey," steve finally says, stopping your movements. "i have something for you before i go."

you open your mouth and he shakes his head. "no, no. let me do this." from his back pocket, he procures a letter. complete with your dorm address and a cute stamp in the top right corner. he holds it out to you. "i want you to read this when you miss me most. not tonight-- tonight, i want you to go and have fun and make friends. your roommate seems cool. i'm talking, like, october." he pauses. "can you do that for me?"

your eyes shine with unshed tears. "steve..." it's practically a whimper. you look up at him and you say, "i love you."

wrapping himself around you, his hand rubs your back. "i love you too," he whispers into your ear. "never loved anyone like this before."

butterflies swarm in your stomach. and you still don't know how those letters got sent-- but you've never been so thankful for fate working its magic than you are for that letter being sent, and bringing steve to your doorstep on a warm may afternoon.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fluff #steve x reader #steve fluff #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #my writing

[artiststarme]

Another Bad Day

Based on a prompt given by @mysticcrownshipper. I'm sorry it took so long but I hope you like it! Please leave your thoughts in the comments!

~*~*~*~

Steve was content. He didn’t want to jinx himself but he was pretty happy. He had his friends, he was dating Eddie, and his brother was back in his life with his super cool boyfriend too. What wasn’t he to like about that?

It was just another evening at the Harrington house and he was relaxing on one end of the couch while Phil and Dio were at the other end. They were cuddling and playing footsie together like Steve would've been with Eddie had he invited him over. But subjecting Eddie to the mustachioed protectiveness of his older brother sounded less like a relaxing movie night and more like inviting a lamb into a lion’s den. Guaranteed homicide.  

He didn’t know how Dio convinced him and Phil to watch Halloween again but they were both terrified at the events happening on-screen, jumping at every scary moment. Steve was not a fan of scary movies, especially having lived through a horror series himself. As such, he was gripping a pillow tight and squeezing his eyes shut through every jumpscare. No way was he getting another heart attack, no thank you. 

At a particularly scary scene that he could sense even with his eyes squeezed tight, Steve jumped and let out a scream of shock. To his further surprise and horror, he heard a gasp come from the hallway behind him. This only prompted him to scream more and plunge his head underneath his blanket as if that would protect him from whatever dangerous home invader was creeping behind him. 

“Son of a biscuit,” he heard Phil curse as he stumbled to turn on the lights. With a few more grunts and bumps, the lights flickered on and Steve slowly poked his head out of the safety of the blanket. 

When the lights came on however, he saw something much more frightening than any home invader or murderer. Instead, he saw their parents. Martha Harrington was literally clutching her pearls as she stood glaring at them all in distaste and Richard Harrington was fuming behind her where he held their luggage. Poor Dio paused the movie and stood in the center of the living room looking the most out of place as he’d ever been. 

“Steven, I see you continue to disappoint us. Not only are you lounging around like a child but you’re also keeping distasteful company.” Martha scowled at him with her eyes narrowed in disgust. 

He shrunk at her words and looked away. His parents always knew how to bring him down and ruin his night. It was disappointing but oddly comforting in its continuity. 

“See your guests out and make sure they don’t come back. You’re enough of a disappointment as it is, we don’t need them further tarnishing your reputation. And ours,” His dad sneered at him. 

“You fucking dick! You don’t get to talk to him like that. You and mom haven’t been home in ten goddamn months and you think you have the right to tell Steve who he can and can’t hang out with? Fuck you.” Phil hissed at them both, his face red with fury and his mustache twitching with barely contained rage. 

Richard’s face reddened to match and he shoved an accusing finger right in Phil’s face. “You shouldn’t even be here! We washed our hands of you years ago and yet you still come around to harass us. How pathetic are you?”

Phil flinched back but quickly regained his composure. “Oh, you think I’m pathetic? You’re the one that kicked me out for ‘being a bad influence on Steve’ when I joined the police force. Now you’re screwing your secretary and dragging mom all around the country for supposed business trips. Who’s really the pathetic one, Dick?”

Richard raised his hand to swing at Phil but his wrist was grabbed by a silently fuming Dio. “Don’t touch him or I will sever every one of your fingers and feed them to you. Back away.”

“Who the hell even are you? What are you doing in my house?” Steve’s dad turned his anger to Dio instead but he was only met with an unimpressed look in response. 

“Trying to watch a fucking movie, Dick.”

Steve’s mom spoke up then and moved a hand to Richard’s shoulder to hold him back. “Phil, you are no longer my son or a part of this family. That means that you can’t come into our house and you can’t associate with Steven.”

“Fuck you, Martha! You want to accuse us of being disappointments and bad sons and whatever the fuck else you say but it’s really you two that are the disappointments. You’re bad fucking parents and I hope you rot in hell.” With that, Phil grabs his jacket and storms outside. It’s all too reminiscent of the first time he left, years prior, when it was followed by a loatheful silence between the brothers. It left Steve feeling unmoored, frazzled in a way he couldn’t remember ever feeling. 

There’s silence in the living room for a moment where his parents, Dio, and Steve stand around looking at each other before Richard sighs and glares at him. 

“Look what you’ve done, Steven. Your mother and I are exhausted after our trip and we had to come home to this ludicracy. Ridiculous.”

“Yeah alright. Steve, come with me. You can stay with us for a while instead of staying here with these assholes. Go pack a bag and we’ll get going,” Dio told him, softly pushing at his shoulder.

“Excuse me-” His mother tried to protest.

“You’re excused. Go ahead, Steve.” 

~*~*~*~

Steve spends the night at Phil’s and Dio’s, sleeping in the guest room and ignoring the woeful glances Phil sent to him. He had no interest in rehashing anything with his brother and a strong urge to ignore everything that had happened in order to move on. 

When an acceptable hour in the morning came, Steve got himself dressed and left the house. He was off of work that day but his plans of sleeping in were thwarted. He couldn’t believe that his parents had come home after so long without any notice or that they’d obliterated Phil right in front of him again like the first time hadn’t been enough. Most of all though, he was surprised that Phil and Dio had stuck up for him. No one had ever defended him from his parents before and Steve really didn’t know how to handle that. 

He continued about his day as if his parents’ return hadn’t shaken him to his core. He returned a few tapes to Family Video, hit the grocery store to pick up some snacks, and went to Melvald’s to get his migraine prescription. Steve ignored how every loud noise made him flinch and how every person in his peripheral vision appeared to be his dad seeking him out for revenge. 

Eventually, he decided to stop pretending to be a functioning member of society and to seek out the comfort of his friends instead. He went from the Melvald’s parking lot directly to the Wheeler’s basement where nearly everyone was already congregated. 

“Oh-ho-ho Steve, nice of you to join us. We’ve been calling your house all day, dude. Where have you been?” Eddie asked him haughtily as soon as he came in. 

“I was running some errands. Here’s some snacks for you guys,” Steve said, dumping all of the chips and candy out on the coffee table. He plopped himself to the floor at the foot of one of the arm chairs and watched his friends attack the offerings like a kettle of vultures. 

“Thank god you’re rich, Steve. We were starving,” Lucas told him and patted his knee. 

“You mean thank god for his rich parents. They probably gave him an allowance and he wasted it on food. Loser move, Steve,” Mike sneered at him. 

"Hey, Steve isn't a loser! He just doesn't apply himself," Dustin weakly defended.

Steve just looked at them all as they laughed at him trying to do a nice thing. Nothing he ever did was enough for anyone. He would always be a disappointment to his parents, a burden for his brother, and a loser to the group of friends that meant everything to him. What was the point in even trying anymore?

He didn’t realize it but sometime during his thought process, his breaths had become labored. His chest was tight and his face was turning red from lack of air. 

“Steve? Steve, are you having a panic attack? Everything is okay, you just have to breathe,” Eddie spoke to him gently before turning to the kids. “Look what you guys did! You should know not to talk about his parents, dipshits! Call Officer Callahan or Hopper, shit, call Robin. Just do something other than gawking at him!”

Steve couldn’t breathe. The panic was clawing at his throat and it felt like he was back in the lake being dragged into Hell by the demon tentacles. Then not only was he obsessing over his parents in town and what the Party thought of him but he was also agonizing over the phantom pain in his sides and the suffocating pain around his neck. 

“Steve, stop clawing at your neck, that’ll make it worse. Calm down, wherever your mind went, you’re not there. You’re with me, Eddie, in the Wheeler’s basement. Don’t you smell the stank of dirty socks and Mike? Come back to me.”

“That’s uncalled for-”

“Wheeler, shut the hell up before I make you. Stevie, you’re okay.”

Steve doesn’t know how long he was in his state of panic stuck in his head but he started coming out of it when he heard his brother’s frazzled voice. 

“Steve?! Steve, where are you? Where is he, where’s my brother?” He could literally hear the emotions in his voice and picked his head up a little bit to look for him. 

“Steve! Hey, it-it’s Phil. I don’t know why you’re panicking but if any of these bitchasses did anything, I will arrest them and give them a juvenile record. Just say the word, little bro. You’re okay,” he comforted in the only way he knew how (threatening children). 

With enough of his… unconventional words of comfort, Steve was able to pull himself from the throes of panic and slump ungracefully into his arms. Everyone present fell back on their haunches and let out a sigh of relief. Eddie pulled one of Steve’s hands onto his own lap whether to offer his own comfort or be comforted from the no-doubt horrific sight of Steve choking on air. 

They’d have to talk about what triggered him to have a panic attack eventually, probably after Phil lectured them and Robin got off of work to rip them a new one once she heard what happened. But they would discuss it and how ungrateful the kids had been to have snacks delivered at their feet precisely when they wanted them. But for now, Steve would hold hands with Eddie and lay his head against his brother’s chest in the longest, yet least awkward, hug they’d ever had.

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#Dio hears about this later and glares at the kids for weeks #He and Phil conspire with El for her to use her powers for pranks against the kids #Robin does in fact scream at them and kidnaps Steve for a sleepover to recover #stranger things #steddie #fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #lucas sinclair #mike wheeler #Dio is Phil's boyfriend based on Pedro Pascal as Dio (brought to you by mysticcrownshipper) #Phil and Steve have bi brother solidarity (because of pyrohonk)

[apomaro-mellow]

Got inspired by this

Steve regretted laughing. Which is something he never thought he'd feel. But as he cackled at something Robin said, he saw the look on Dustin's face and wished he could take the laugh back. Robin went to go and show a customer something and Dustin slid over to him.

"Remind me again how she isn't 'the one'?"

"She's a one. One of a kind. The kind I don't wanna lose by asking her out."

"Whatever happened to the Harrington charm?", Dustin asked.

"Doesn't work on girls like Robin." Steve ignored him by trying to escape to the backroom. Of course Dustin followed, employees only be damned.

"I don't even think you've tried. Which confuses me. But what's got me even more confused is how you've seemed to stop trying altogether."

"Why are you so invested in my love life, huh?"

"Ew, gross", Dustin winced. "I'm not invested. I'm just tired of hearing you whine about never finding love-"

"I don't whine!"

"SO just ask her out already. Even if she says no, you can still be friends. Like Jonathan and Nancy."

Steve rolled his eyes. Then saw a lightbulb go off in Dustin's head.

"Well since Nancy's single again-"

"I'm gay!"

For the first time ever Dustin shut his trap. Steve thought he should get a trophy for this. Except he realized what he just said. Dustin, with all the grace of someone who had just been blindsided, hugged Steve tight.

"I'm...I'm here for you, man."

It was so sweet that it made Steve feel like shit. But only a little. Because now Dustin couldn't keep trying to matchmake him and Robin. Or Nancy.

Turns out the love boat only stopped for a couple days.

Steve was hanging out in his room when he heard footsteps approach. Dustin came in without a single knock.

"Um, hello? How did you get in?"

"Some lady let me in."

Steve raised a brow. "You mean my mom?"

Dustin shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. Anyway, what about Gary?"

"....Who? For what?"

"Gary? He works at the art supply store. He's gay, why not him?"

Steve shot up and shut his door like a zombie was coming. "What the fuck are you talking about Henderson?!", he hissed quietly.

"Gay people deserve love too, Steve. So how about it?"

Steve rubbed his face. Forget about how Dustin knew about some random dude's sexuality, apparently he wasn't one to be deterred.

"You can't just set me up with any guy. Or any gay guy."

"You've slept around with just any girl? Why are guys different? Seems pretty discriminatory Steve."

He wanted to strangle this kid. More than that though, he wanted to go back and slap his past self. He could have said anything. Said he was into old ladies-no, then Dustin would be sending him on blind dates to the senior center.

It felt like the only thing to get Dustin off his case would be if he was in a serious relationship with someone.

Then a second person came into his room without knocking and Steve wondered if he should be walking around naked more.

It was Jonathan.

And Steve got another bright idea.

"I can't just go out with anyone. Because I'm already dating Jonathan."

"What?!", two voices shouted out and Dustin gave Jon a look.

"Why do you sound surprised?"

Jonathan looked to Steve for help and Steve tried to convey the best he could with his eyes.

"I...we never....put a label on it....?"

Steve could kiss him if he was at all interested in men. To sell it a little better, he put an arm around his shoulders. Dustin was left speechless for the second time in a week and Steve was definitely putting it in his journal for posterity.

This time he gave them both pats on the back and walked out silently.

"Don't tell anyone!", Steve shouted behind him, then closed his bedroom door.

"Hey, um, the hell?", Jonathan asked.

"Thank you for being so cool with that."

"I'm learning to be more chill. But still, explain?"

Steve told him the whole story as they sat on his bed and through it all, Jonathan looked nothing but understanding.

"So, how long do we need to pretend to be boyfriends?"

"Who says we need to pretend?", Steve raised a brow.

"You just told Dustin."

"It's a secret we're keeping", Steve said, getting up to pace about his room. "Which means we just act normal. Later we can tell Dustin we broke up."

"How much later?"

Steve pondered. "....Once I'm engaged?"

"Steve!"

"Jonathan, please?"

He looked conflicted. This just seemed like a lot of stupid work just to convince Dustin. "You get 2 months? Got it? Put it on your calendar."

"Thank you! I'll do it right now!" Steve grabbed a pen and went over to the calendar that hung on the wall. He went to February 3rd and put a broken heart on the date.

"Subtle."

"No one else looks at this thing. Alright. If our break up is bad enough maybe Dustin will stop butting his head in."

"What if the others find out?", Jonathan asked.

"No one else is gonna know."

----------------------------------

Lucas had been noticing that Dustin had that weird grin on his face for the past week. The 'I know something you don't know' grin. While sitting in Steve's living room, shoulder to shoulder with Max, who he nudged.

"You notice anything off with Dustin?"

"You mean more than the usual offness? Yes, actually."

"What do you think it is?", Lucas asked.

Will came to sit on Lucas' other side. "My guess is he has a secret. But what, I don't know."

"So it's pretty obvious, right?", Lucas said.

"No, I said as much to Mike and he said I was being crazy and that Dustin wouldn't keep anymore secrets after Dart."

Their eyes went over to Dustin, who was grinning at the group who was deciding on the movie they were gonna watch. Steve and Eddie were in a heated conversation while Jonathan was trying to be a mediator.

Steve was flapping around a vhs so hard it threatened to sail across the room and Jonathan grabbed his wrist to still it, scared for the innocent movie.

"Get a room, you lovebirds", Dustin called out.

All eyes turned towards him.

Part 2

#apo writes #fanfiction #stranger things #steddie #jonathan byers #dustin henderson #this'll probably have like 3-5 parts #so buckle up for a nice sunday drive

[kurtie4life96]

Your writing makes me feel things oh my

Could you do a Robin smut with promts 1, 2, 28, and 30? Ik it probably sounds like a lot so I'd get it if u don't want to. But I thought it'd all fit together like Robin's jealous reader's flirting with someone else and reader's excuse is that she and Robin are "just friends" so Robin has to set her straight

Anyways I also wanted to say that I am so jealous of your writing skills and I (embarrassingly) look up to you(r writing?)

Baby I love you for this and your compliments mean the absolute world to me. Like I love you so much let's get married immediately.

No Robin smut for me is too much.

No Sharing // R.B. x Reader

Summary: Robin has to set the record straight with her "best friend".

CW: MDNI 18+, delicious beautiful smut, fingering, cunnilingus, orgasm denial, dom!robin, sub!reader

Another hot, dusky summer night, another house party at Steve Harrington's house.

Everyone was there, of course, including Eddie, Nancy, Jonathan, Steve himself, just about everyone that went to Hawkins High School. Including your most cherished best friend, Robin Buckley.

The two of you stood in the kitchen, people watching, laughing at everyone's antics, like Tammy Thompson being too drunk to even stand, and Steve slipping on some spilled liquor, falling straight on his ass.

It wasn't uncommon for the two of you to be alone in the corner, giggling and gossiping with each other, huddled close together as the two of you normally would, being the introverts you are.

Robin had been your best friend since 6th grade, when your mom forced you to go to her birthday party, March 10th, despite your attempts at begging not to go. You didn't get along well with other kids, as some weren't fond of your "awkward" personality, so you always opted to stay home.

Your mom forcing you to go to her birthday sleepover was the best thing that could've happened to you. You'd gotten along with her so quickly, having so much in common, like being labeled "weird" or "different". You had the same music taste, the same sense of humor, and hated the same people.

Over the years, the friendship blossomed, hanging out after school, passing notes to each other in class, sharing clothes, having sleepovers, Robin always falling asleep during the middle of movie night, and snuggling together in bed. You'd even practiced kissing each other, for when the two of you would eventually get a boyfriend.

But as time passed, neither of you had ever gotten interested in boys, because they were "boring", and spent most of your time with each other instead, which the two of you were happy to do. It was a beautiful friendship, sent from the universe itself, and you were absolutely inseparable.

As you and Robin were continuing to laugh and goof around, she spilled her drink from her red solo cup onto the front of her shirt, drenching her.

"Oh shit, Robin, let me find a towel-"

"Nah, it's cool. I'll go find one myself." She insisted.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, definitely. I'm gonna go find one, be right back." She saluted you.

"Okay." You giggled as she began to navigate through the sea of intoxicated young adults.

"Hey there." A familiar voice greeted you.

You looked over to see Eddie Munson himself, drunk, hovering above you.

"Hey Eddie! What's up?"

"Not much," he gestured towards Robin, "where's she going?"

"Oh, she spilled her drink on her shirt, went to clean herself up is all."

"Ah, okay, gotcha. So, how you been doin' lately?"

Eddie and yourself chatted amongst yourselves in the kitchen for a few minutes. You couldn't help but find his drunken, goofy self charming.

And Robin couldn't help but notice.

She came back to see you talking with him. You were laughing too much, shoving him playfully too much, twirling your hair with your fingers too much for her liking.

And she couldn't help but overhear you say:

"Robin? Yeah, I know we're really close, just best friends, ya know?"

She'd heard enough.

She put on a smile and strutted over, linking her elbow with yours.

"Oh, hey Robin!" You exclaimed, smiling at her, "did you find a towel?"

"Yeah, I did," she nodded, her eyes fixated on Eddie, "so, what're you guys doing?"

"Oh, we were just talking, catching up, ya know-"

She cut Eddie off, "Yeah, that's cool. Hey, can we have our own talk over there?" She glanced at you, pointing to the stairs.

"Oh, um, yeah..." you said, confusion on your face. "Sorry Eddie, I'll see you later-"

"Yeah, she'll see you later." She interrupted you, a condescending tone to her voice as she grabbed your arm, walking you towards the staircase.

"Robin, what the hell was that? That was so fucking rude-"

"Shut up and keep walking."

You hesitantly followed her up the stairs to an empty room, the only furniture in it a dresser and a freshly made bed, feeling annoyed as she shut the door behind you, locking it.

"What's gotten into you?" You questioned her, frustrated, "You been drinking or something?"

"Oh, stop it, you know that neither of us actually drink at these things." She took a few steps forward to you, her hands behind her back.

"Well," you stammered, "what the fuck is your problem? You were mean to him for no reason-"

"You wanna know what the fuck my problem is?" She raised her voice, "My problem is you going around telling people that we're 'just friends', flirting around with people I know you don't care about."

You shot her a confused look.

"Okay... well, what's wrong with that?"

"Oh my god," Robin threw her arms up in the air in frustration, slapping them on her sides, "Cut the shit, babe. You know what's wrong with that.

"Robin, I really don't understand-"

She stepped closer to you, very much so irritated with you.

"Come on, now. Don't act so ignorant," she began one of her infamous rants, "we've never had boyfriends, never even kissed one, for fucks sake, we've only kissed each other. We have sleepovers where we cuddle, sometimes even half naked, we wear each other's clothes, we only spend time with each other, no one else! Don't act so fucking stupid, because I know you're not blind to this, to this situation, to us!"

There was a moment of silence, a moment where the air, the tension was so thick, you could cut it with a knife.

Your face went hot, as you just stared at her with glossy eyes, feeling timid.

She took note of your body language, and took another step forward, until her face was only inches from yours.

"We're not just friends, and you fucking know it." Her voice dropped an octave, lustful eyes glancing to yours, and to your lips.

"Robin," you breathed, "I'm sorry-"

She grabbed your face with her hands, crashing her lips onto yours, pulling you in for a hard, passionate kiss.

When you didn't reciprocate, she pulled back.

"I'm sorry," she started, "I shouldn't have-"

You grabbed her head, yanking her forward and smashed your lips onto hers, giving her the same hard, passionate kiss she'd given you moments before, not wanting to let go, wanting to draw it out as long as possible.

You broke the kiss, looking at her through half lidded eyes, relishing in her presence.

"Robin," you whined, fisting the fabric of her shirt desperately, "Robin, please."

She gazed at you for a moment, savouring your touch, your presence, and crashed her lips against yours again, snaking her hand down your back as you wrapped your arms around her shoulders.

Her lips were so soft, tasting of vanilla chapstick, as she kissed you over and over again, only breaking them to take a shallow breath in between.

The both of you panted as you continued to embrace each other fiercely, feeling fire spread across your skin as she suddenly gripped your hips tightly, thrusting them against yours.

You lightly gasped, Robin taking the opportunity to skim her tongue along your bottom lip, beginning to pull you in for a deeper kiss, your tongues gliding against each others feverishly. You raked your fingers through her hair hastily as she she kept a hold on your hips.

She pushed a leg in between yours, biting your bottom lip softly, then taking it into her mouth, sucking on it, and letting it go with a pop.

You softly moaned, begging for more as you held her close to you. She smiled.

"You say we're just friends, but you can't keep your hands off me."

You bit your lip, looking down at her chest and looking even lower, rubbing your thighs against hers for some kind of friction.

She smirked and frantically grabbed the hem of your shirt, pulling it off your head, then began unbuttoning your pants, you eagerly slipping out of them. She gazed at your body in adoration, before quickly taking off her own clothes, the both of you standing before each other in your bra and panties.

She leaned forward, bringing her lips to your ear, sliding a finger down the side of your underwear, and snapping it against your skin.

"I always liked these," she whispered, her hot breath sending shivers down your spine.

She kissed you harshly again as she slipped her hands behind your back, unclasping your bra and sliding it off your body.

Robin made her way down from your lips to your neck and chest, gently biting and sucking, leaving light bruises scattered across your exposed skin.

"Robin," you softly moaned.

"Sh," she hushed you, "You're mine, and I don't share."

She continued her assault on your chest, cupping your breasts as she swirled her tongue around your nipples, sucking and kissing them, before grabbing the soft flesh of your ass and lifting you up, tossing you onto the bed.

She unhooked her own bra as she sat before you, throwing it somewhere in the room. You reached for her, wanting to touch her soft skin, but she pushed you back down, grabbing the waistline of your panties and pulling them down your legs.

You squished your thighs together in embarassment, but she grabbed your knees, spreading your legs apart to get a good look.

"You're beautiful, babe. I'll show you."

You huffed, quivering under Robin's touch as she teasingly brushed her fingers along the skin of your inner thighs, lightly scratching you with her nails as she descended her hands down towards your heat.

She lightly stroked your folds, collecting your slick on her fingers, making you whimper.

"Fuck," she groaned, "you're so fucking wet."

She brought her fingers to her mouth and slowly licked them, keeping eye contact with you as she relished in your taste, you gazing at her with half lidded eyes and inhaling a sharp breath.

She bit at the side of your knee, mumbling expletives as she tried to compose herself, prevent herself from completely devouring you.

"Robin," you panted, "please... I need you."

She gave a teasing smirk at your words, breathing heavily, and placed a finger on your dripping entrance, gently sliding it into you.

You gasped, arching into her touch as she began pushing it in and out of you at an achingly slow pace, then without warning, inserted a second digit, curling them into your sweet spot, making you bite back a moan as your walls clenched around her.

She paused, smiling at at your reaction.

"Right there, huh? That was easy." She said in a low voice.

She continued pumping her fingers in and out of you at a faster, steady rhythm, making sure to hit your spongy spot everytime. You began feeling fire in your abdomen, goosebumps spreading across your skin, panting, moaning her name shamelessly.

She crawled over you, her other arm holding herself up on the pillow next to you, continuing to fuck into you, and began circling your clit with her thumb.

"Oh fuck, Robin," you mumbled, her catching your mouth quickly, your kisses sloppy and deep between heavy pants. She nipped at your bottom lip and sucked on it, your lips surely swollen and bruised now as you felt the coiling tension in your stomach get tighter.

"Could he make you feel as good as I do?" She asked between pants.

You shook your head, shivering under her.

"Answer me." She demanded, squeezing your cheeks together.

"No, never, fuck Robin, I'm gonna-"

She quickly removed her fingers from you before your orgasm could peak, sitting up.

You groaned at the loss, rubbing your thighs together for some friction.

"Why did you-"

"As much as I wanna watch you fall apart underneath me right now," she teased in her raspy voice, "this isn't how I want you to cum."

She leaned over, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead, and grasped your hips tightly, making you yelp, as she yanked the apex of your thighs towards her face.

She licked a thick stripe up your dripping heat, making you push your hips to her face even further.

She began to lap you up rapidly, swirling her tongue along your folds as the coil in your stomach quickly returned. You moaned a mixture of her name and expletives, watching your best friend devour you senseless.

She inserted her tongue into your entrance, making you roll your hips and cry out in pleasure, reaching out to grab a fistful of her hair as she licked inside of you.

Robin then skimmed up your heat, licking a flat tongue over your clit, swirling around it with a fast and hard pace, then taking your swollen bud into her mouth, sucking and smacking her mouth on it ruthlessly, drowning you in absolute ecstacy. You gasped and gripped her hair tighter, making her moan against your heat. The vibration alone sent you over the edge.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, Robin, I'm gonna cum-"

Your back arched as shockwaves gripped your body, pulsing against her mouth as you fell apart, her continuing to lap up your mess through your high until it came to a halt.

She let go of your hips, panting, her mouth wet with your slick as she dropped your lower half back onto the bed.

Robin leaned over you and kissed you feverishly, her face flushed, and you pulled her in deeper, tasting yourself on her tongue.

She plopped her back onto the bed, laying beside you, catching her breath as you both stared at the ceiling, your fingers interwining with hers as you held hands until both of you could steady yourselves.

"Robin," you started, "that was amazing-"

"I know," she smiled, "I know it was."

You looked over to her, chuckling a bit.

"You're feeling pretty proud of yourself right now, aren't you?"

She nodded excitedly, "Yep. I am."

She turned over to you and gazed at your fucked out face, smoothing your hair.

"Now everyone will know, I'm not your best friend."

You grinned. "Yeah, you're right," you gently kissed her swollen lips, "but everyone will know I'm not your best friend, either."

Robin looked at you questioningly.

A devilish smile came across your face.

"It's your turn."

#smutty smut smut #robin buckley smut #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley fluff #robin buckley fanfic #robin buckley x you #robin buckley angst #robin buckley x best friend!reader #robin buckley #robin buckley x f!reader #stranger things smut #stranger things fic

[venusjaynie]

stranger things social media!!

all the older kids are 18-21 and The Party are 15-16

steve harrington x fem!reader

series mastlist

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

y/ns.priv24

Liked by itsbuckleybitch, thefreakmunson, dustybunhenderson, willthewise and others.

y/ns.priv24: "baby, take a pic with this sweet view behind me."

View comments.

itsbuckleybitch: he looks like a stickman

↳ stevie.h: shut the fuck up

↳ y/ns.priv24: you're so right rob

↳ stevie.h: wow babe i expected better from you

↳ y/ns.priv24: you're a very cute stickman

thefreakmunson: the thought of the both of you atop a mountain taking pictures of each other is so cute it makes me sick

↳ y/ns.priv24: love u too eddie

b.hargrove: harrington wtf is wrong with your face

↳ stevie.h: bite me hargrove

johnnybyers: this comment section is the reason i'm fucking insane you are all so annoying (even you baby sis)

↳ y/ns.priv24: i may be annoying but at least i'm mom's favourite.

↳ johnnybyers: i would come back with something equally as harsh but we both know will is mom's favourite

↳ y/ns.priv24: ...yeah that's true. seriously he gets possessed by some fucking demon one time and all of a sudden he's the light of mom's life

↳ willthewise: not cool big sis. not cool

stevie.h

Liked by b.hargrove, nanceewheeler, mikey7 and others

stevie.h: just chillin by the sea with my favourite girl

tagged: y/ns.priv24

View comments.

itsbuckleybitch: wait why are you guys kinda cute

↳ stevie.h: you're only realising this now???

dustybunhenderson: you are literally my parents

↳ stevie.h: not cool dude

↳ dustybunhenderson: mom dad's being mean to me

↳ y/ns.priv24: steve don't be mean to our son

↳ stevie.h: oh my

nanceewheeler: the cutest ever

↳ y/ns.priv24: um not as cute as you and j

↳ stevie.h: excuse me we're way cuter than nance and jonathan

y/ns.priv24

Liked by b.hargrove, johnnybyers, stevie.h, itsbuckleybitch and others.

y/ns.priv24: it's all well and good that billy and steve got over their issues, and i'm glad they aren't at each others throats 24/7 anymore, but can i just point out that they aren't even planking correctly? did no one else notice this?

View comments.

b.hargrove: okay rude

↳ y/ns.priv24: learn how to plank first then you can call me rude

↳ b.hargrove: you bitch

↳ stevie.h: hey cut it out dumbass. that's my girl you're talking to. i'll beat your ass

itsbuckleybitch: i did notice, and i'm really glad someone spoke up about this issue. thank you.

↳ y/ns.priv24: i appreciate your concern for the wellbeing of my boyfriend's and his (boy)friend's back. you're welcome.

↳ b.hargrove: WOAH WOAH WOAH WHAT

↳ stevie.h: yeah dude wth

↳ y/ns.priv24: call me dude again and i'll skin you alive bro

↳ b.hargrove: JESUS CHRIST WHAT THE HELL

↳ johnnybyers: go little sis. you slay.

↳ johnnybyers: WILL TOOK MY PHONE I SWEAR I DON'T SAY SLAY

itsbuckleybitch

Liked by y/ns.priv24, nanceewheeler, stevie.h, dustybunhenderson, thefreakmunson and others.

itsbuckleybitch: amazing show yesterday dingus. we had a blast

View comments.

y/ns.priv24: currently googling how to become a microphone

↳ stevie.h: glad you enjoyed the show sweetheart

↳ y/ns.priv24: i really did. you're incredible stevie

↳ thefreakmunson: oh my god get a room

b.hargrove: loved the show man (also currently googling how to become said mic)

↳ y/ns.priv24: SEE. BOYFRIENDS.

nanceewheeler

Liked by y/ns.priv24, stevie.h, johnnybyers and others.

nanceewheeler: y/n and i's favourite boys

View comments.

mikeymikey: hey i thought i was your favourite

↳ nanceewheeler: why would you think that?

y/ns.priv24: stevie i forgot how big your arms are can you choke me

↳ stevie.h: oh my god

itsbuckleybitch: this is quite horrifying

↳ stevie.h: i apologise for my girlfriends unhinged comments

↳ itsbuckleybitch: no i meant your face in the picture dingus

willthewise: i'm actually y/n's favourite boy.

↳ stevie.h: sure you are buddy

↳ y/ns.priv24: oh steve how do i put this nicely...

↳ stevie.h: you're on the couch tonight

↳ y/ns.priv24: NO STEVE WAIT

johnnybyers

Liked by nanceewheeler, stevie.h, willthewise, mikey7, and others

johnnybyers: my person.

View comments.

y/n's.priv24: stop you guys are so cute get married rn.

↳ jonnybyers: thanks kiddo (ik you only want us to get married so you can be a bridesmaid for nance)

↳ nanceewheeler: correction - maid of honour

stevie.h: you guys are almost as cute as me and y/n

↳ y/ns.priv24: i'd say we're equally as cute.

↳ dustybunhenderson: i agree with steve. my parents are the cutest

↳ stevie.h: DUDE

↳ y/ns.priv24: HAHAHAHAHAHA

#stranger things social media au #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #billy hargrove #jonathan byers #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #stranger things #jayne writes

[jamdoughnutmagician]

A Slice Of Life (Waitress AU) Part 4

Doctor!Steve Harrington x Waitress!Reader

<- Previous part Next Part ->

Warnings:Billy continues to be an terrible husband, domestic violence (one mention of the reader being slapped)

*not proof-read, sorry..

Word Count:2,434

*dividers by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist // Steve Harrington Masterlist

“Billy murders me in my sleep because I’m having an affair with my doctor” pie. Smash tart blackberries and sun-sweet raspberries into a rich dark chocolate crust.

“I can’t have an affair with my doctor because it’s wrong and I don’t want my husband to kill me” pie. Velvety smooth vanilla custard with sliced banana…

“Y/n!” you’re brought out of your thoughts by Joyce’s cheery voice coming up beside you. “You’re here early, I haven’t even opened up the diner yet.”

“I’m sorry, what?” your mind is still a little hazy at this time of the morning.

“I do hope you didn’t sleep out here last night. A woman in your position needs to sleep in a warm bed at night.” 

“I went home last night, Joyce, don’t you worry about that.” you reassure her. 

“No doubt to that lousy, good-for-nothing husband of yours.” she sighs with a slight shake of her head.

“Billy was passed out in front of the tv by the time I got home last night, so I guess I got lucky there.” you give a soft half-hearted laugh with a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. 

“C’mon, I’ll open up and I’ll let you get started.”

You’re already on your feet, drifting around the diner floor, taking orders, serving tables and filling up empty coffee mugs as you go.

As you’re working around, your eyes catch a young mother with her daughter sitting in the booth together. The little girl is quietly sipping from her juice box and scribbling her crayons in a colouring book and her mother is sitting with her, a crayon in her hand, helping her to finish her picture.

You hear Nancy’s voice call out to you, and so you make your way behind the counter where she and Robin are smiling at you.

“We bought you a little present.” Nancy says, sliding a small gift wrapped up in striped wrapping paper and tied up with a pink ribbon.

“It’s just something small that we figured you were going to need.” Robin adds on, leaning in to eagerly watch you unwrap your present.

You pull at the paper to reveal a hard-cover book. 

The First-time Mom’s Hand-book.

“Oh look at that, thank you so much girls.” you smile, leafing through the pages of the book quickly.

“We know you weren’t initially all too thrilled about this whole baby thing, but we thought you could at least read up and be prepared for when she actually does arrive, you know?” Nancy playfully nudges your shoulder.

“We don’t know it’s a she yet, Nance.” you dismiss softly.

“Well you better read it, because this baby is coming whether you like it or not.” Robin nods.

“What if I'm not cut out for being a mother, I could really fuck up this baby’s life and I haven’t even brought them into the world yet.” you slump against the counter 

“You’re not even feeling a little bit maternal towards that baby?” Nancy asks.

“I don’t do anything harmful to this baby, I don’t drink, I watch what I eat, but no, I just don’t feel that immediate rush of affection when I think of this baby.” you sigh. “Maybe being with Billy all these years just sucked all the love and affection right out of me.”

There’s a beat of silence between the three of you for a moment.

“Well I suppose I should be getting back to work.” Nancy says, hopping up from her seat. “Looks like the breakfast rush is starting up.” and with that she rushes off to start serving customers.

“Thanks for the book, Nance, I really do appreciate it.” you call out to her.

Robin places a kind hand on your shoulder before she leaves, leaning in to talk to you.

“There’s all these cool things to do in this book, like here..” she says pointing to a section in the back of the book. “There’s a scrapbook section where you can put silly pictures of you with your pregnant belly as it develops, and there’s also a page where you can write your first letter to your baby.” she smiles.

“Oh, okay, thanks Rob.” you say softly, offering her a kind smile, before she leaves you alone at the counter.

Your eyes stare down at the blank page where your baby’s first letter is supposed to be. You slip the book into the front pocket of your apron, not giving it too much though as you begin to start another day of work. Waltzing around the diner’s sticky floors, chasing after customer’s orders and re-filling endless cups of coffee.

Back home, whilst Billy is at work, you hastily pack yourself a small suitcase, filling it with only enough clothes to see you finally, once and for all get away from your husband.

Sitting down on the bench by the bus stop, suitcase at your feet, your mind strays, thinking about what kind of first letter you should write to your baby. 

Dear baby, If I was writing you a letter in all honesty it would probably be a letter of apology. I know that everyone deserves a mom who would want a nice baby such as yourself. The kind of mom who is a good wife and an upstanding member of society, but it would be wrong of me to say that that’s me. I worry that I'm doing the right thing by bringing you into this world when it’s already so messed up. I’m sorry, baby, that I don’t seem like the typical excited mom-to-be, but I don’t know what I can offer you. What if I leave Billy but don’t win that pie contest next week and don’t win the money? What happens to us then? All my life I’ve been so scared that all I want to do is run away, and that sure as hell isn’t something that a baby like you deserves. I wish I could feel all the feeling that’s expected of a new mother, to feel that giddy excitement that you’re with me right now, to feel that rush of reassurance that I’ll be a good mother, even if my life isn’t in such a great place. Anyway, I’m writing this letter to you, and in some small way I suppose I’m writing this letter to myself too.

Love, Mom.

The crushing of gravel under car tires brings you out of your thoughts and you cast your eyes up to see where the noise is coming from and your stomach drops at the sight of your husband’s dark Camaro rolling to a stop in front of you. His heavy boots step out onto the ground as he slams the door behind him and strides towards you.

Billy crouches down, bearing his hands on his knees as he fixes you with a menacing glare.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

“Nowhere, Billy.” you mumble softly. “I-I mean I had to go to work..”

“Then why the fuck have you got a suitcase, huh?”

Because I’ve finally had enough of your shit, Billy. Because I’m sick of the way you treat me. Because I deserve better than this, I deserve better than you.

The eerie silence that hangs in the air. You don’t have an answer for him. At least not an answer that he was going to be pleased to hear. 

The silence from you is more than enough of an answer for him as he slaps his hand across your face, stinging your skin with the force of his blow. Bubbling tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

“Shut up and get in the car.” he spits as he shoves you towards the passenger’s side door, and throws your suitcase in the back seat. 

The tension in the car as Billy drives the pair of you home is icy. Uncomfortably cold and unwelcoming.

“A pie baking contest, huh?” he scoffs, keeping his eyes on the road, never daring to look your way.

You snivel, wiping the tear tracks on your cheek with the sleeve of your cardigan.

“Yeah, I was just going to go up there and win and surprise you with the prize money when I came home.”

“Nah, nah, I know you’re lying to me, sweetheart.” his voice grumbles. “You ain’t ever been to any pie contest before.” His voice is unmistakably hostile, his one hand lifting off the steering wheel to shove against your face, forcefully pushing you against the window. “YOU’RE FUCKING LYING TO ME!” he screams.

“BILLY STOP IT! I’M PREGNANT!” you shout.

And it’s at your admission that his foot is slamming on the brake and the tires screeching to a halt in the middle of the road.

“So when were you going to tell me?” he rasps out.

pulling out the chair from under the dining table, you take your seat next to him, sitting down with a soft huff.

“I was going to tell you after I won the contest.”

“Well you can kiss that dumb pie contest goodbye, ‘cause you ain’t going anywhere now, darling” Billy scoffs. “‘Cause here’s the thing, what if you decide that you love this baby more than you love me. It happens all the time, they have a baby, then the man is out of the picture.” 

“You’re jealous of the baby?” you murmur quietly.

“I ain’t jealous, it’s not in my nature to be jealous, I’m just talking about my feelings. I know how you women get. I just don’t know if I want that happening to me.” 

“So what do you want me to say, Billy?”

“Well I’d tell you to get rid of it, but somehow I don’t see that happening, so how about you promise me that you won’t end up loving this baby more than you love me. That you make a real effort to be a good little wife to me. I come first every time, not some damn baby.”

There’s that uncomfortable silence again, slowly closing in on you, making you feel the loneliest you have ever felt.  

“So, do you think you can promise me that? That this baby won’t come between us?” 

No.

“I promise.” 

“Well how ‘bout that, huh? Looks like I knocked you up real good, I gotta say I thought you were getting chubbier, I guess now we know why. I bet it happened that night got you drunk” he laughs to himself.

You push yourself away from the table quickly, needing to get away from him 

“Where are you rushing off too?”

“I gotta throw up.”

Steve strolls into the doctor’s room where you’re already sitting up on the reclining bed, a medical gown draped over your frame.

“Y/n.” he smiles warmly.

“Dr. Harrington.” you smile back.

“I haven’t had any calls from you, you haven’t been having any problems?”

With my husband? Oh, there are far too many problems to mention. 

“With the baby? No, no problems at all, doctor.”

“Good, good. So today I’m going to be doing your ultrasound, so we can check out your baby’s development and see how things are progressing. Does that sound okay to you?”

You nod, immediately put at ease by his gentle manner.

“Okay if you could just lie back for me please and hold your gown out of the way.”

You settle yourself back, lying flat against the bed as you roll the hem of your medical gown up to reveal the small bump of your belly.

“Okay, so this isn’t going to hurt at all, it’s just going to be a little bit cold is all.” he tells you, squirting a small amount of gel on your stomach, and gently pressing the ultrasound wand against your skin and moving it around.

“Okay…ah! There we are. There’s your baby.”

You turn your head towards the monitor to see the black and white image on the screen.

“Wonderful! Everything looks perfectly normal and healthy, and do you see that little flickering in the middle of the screen?” he says, pointing his finger on the monitor. “That’s your baby’s heartbeat.”

Something about seeing the gentle thump of the tiny life growing inside you suddenly made this all feel real. Before now it was all too easy to pretend that it wasn’t real, that it wasn’t happening, that it was just another thing that you could stash away deep in the back of your mind to where you didn’t have to think about it. But there it was, your baby, as clear as day, perfectly healthy.

“It certainly doesn’t look much like a baby yet.” you say with a soft shake of your head.

“No, I suppose it doesn’t, but things will start to take shape a lot quicker than you expect, I promise.” he nods. “Okay, everything looks good to me, if you want to pull your gown back down.” he says, handing you some tissues to wipe the gel from your skin.

“Thank you, Doctor.” you nod, as you pull yourself together.

“Y/n, I want to let you know that I’ve been thinking about you a lot. I know it’s very unprofessional of me, and god knows I’d probably be fired from my job if anyone ever found out about what we were doing but I like you, and I just think…”

You stop him in his tracks, pulling him forward by his white coat and pressing your lips against his. He leans into the kiss, slipping his tongue past your lips as you moan quietly. His hands cradle your head, fingers weaving amongst your hair, desperately trying to pull you closer.

“Don’t do that again.” he says between panted breaths, pulling away from your lips.

“Do what? Kiss you?”

“No, not that, definitely not that. Don’t go away for a full month without calling, Y/n.”

“What was I supposed to do, Steve, I’ve got a crazy husband who’s watching my every move.” you sigh, holding your head in your hands. “I wanted to call you, believe me, I did. It’s just harder for me when I’ve got Billy breathing down my neck every time I step out the door.”

“I just know how I feel about you, I like you a lot, Y/n and I wanna see you, I know this whole thing is crazy, all I’m asking is that you give me a chance.” He says with a soft smile and a sparkle in those beautiful hazel-brown eyes. "I don't care that you're married, I can see you're unhappy, and I just think I could be the one to make you happy"

@keerygal @penguinsandpotterheads @paybacksawitch @mrsjellymunson @seatnights @ali-r3n @potatobeanpies

#steve harrington x reader #Steve harrington x female reader #Steve Harrington x reader series #steve harrington x reader fanfiction

[shares-a-vest]

Steve and Eddie operate on one of two extremes most nights they are together: they either stay up til all hours listening to music, watching scary movies Steve hates, having a few beers, making out and smoking (essentially hotboxing Steve's bedroom). Or they go to bed at a stupidly early hour, quietly going about a calming nightly routine: getting into bed, reading and talking about their day, peppered with the occasional bickering about nothing.

Lucas and Dustin discover this after practically banging down the Harrington's door one night after a late session at the arcade, popping in to bug Eddie about a Hellfire meet-up over the weekend. They were so done with Eddie putting off Hellfire (cool) to spend time with Steve (lame) to the point where both boys were considering overthrowing their DM entirely and replacing him with Will.

A sole light comes on, illuminating the inside foyer, interrupting Lucas chastising Dustin and saying something about them being on some lame date night. The boys are greeted by the pair in their pyjamas, tired and both sporting mussed-up hair. Lucas's illusions about Steve's perfectly quaffed hair are forever shattered after seeing his bed hair and Dustin thinks he'll never recover from seeing Eddie in checked pyjama pants that look like something Ted Wheeler would wear.

"What do you want?" Steve asks, clearly grumpy.

"Wait, were you two asleep?" Dustin enquires with a look of utter disgust before checking his watch.

"It's 9pm on a Friday. What the hell?" Lucas adds, entirely baffled.

"We've been working all week and trying to entertain you assholes in between," Eddie replies, stretching his arms with a crack. "But it looks like we can't have a moment's peace."

"Yeah. Go away!" Steve adds, folding his arms to make a point despite the, admittedly very weak, threat.

"Eddie, please?" Dustin bargains in his most annoying tone. "Can Hellfire meet up before the weekend is over?"

"Maybe."

"That means 'no'," Lucas sighs.

"I'm not hosting Hellfire here tomorrow. I finally have a day off!" Steve whines, his brows furrowed in Eddie's direction.

"Okay, you idiots heard Mom. The answer is 'no'," Eddie says, moving to close the door but is blocked by Dustin pushing back.

"But we are in the middle of a campaign!"

"Come on, man," Lucas says, tugging on Dustin's shirt. "We better leave before Old Man Harrington chases us off his lawn."

Steve rolls his eyes as Lucas arches his shoulders, mimics holding a rickety walking stick and wags a shaky warning finger at a giggling Dustin.

"Good idea," Eddie nods. "Bye!"

He slams the door, unknowingly opening them up to relentless teasing from the group. Quips about bed hair and senior-looking pyjamas abound.

And being called "an old married couple" sticks.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie hcs #steddie headcanon #steddie ficlet #lilys hcs #lilys ficlets