Steve Harrington Angst - Tumblr Posts

Fake it till you make it | Steve Harrington, The Singer.

Warnings: Modern!Band! AU, Manager! Reader, Fake marriage.

Steve Harrington, the lead singer of Midnight, has decided to announce his engagement to his mysterious girlfriend, the problem? The girl disappeared overnight with the excuse that the public pressure was too big. Steve, nervous about causing a scandal affecting the band, turns to his new manager, who he begs for a solution to the problem, and what better way to keep the press under control than to pose as his fiancée?

"I beg your pardon?" muttered Steve with wide eyes, staring at the contract in front of him.

You sighed, taking a sip of your bitter coffee, knowing deep down that something like this could happen.

"I thought I said it clear, but I'll say it again" you set the coffee cup down on the table, your gaze fixed on Steve's dark eyes, "my proposal to solve your unnecessary drama is that we get married, you can think about it, but remember we have time on our hands."

"But..."

"I remind you that you were the one who brought the issue to light, Steven" you took a pencil out of your pocket, putting it down in front of him decisively, "and you asked me for a solution, here it is, do you accept?"

(The light blue ones are seen from your point of view, the black ones are narrated from Steve's point of view) this story was made for 1 year and a half (it was 36 chapters plus the epilogue and the prologue, but for extension reasons I agreed). After the epilogue there will be a description of the character that is with Steve and her name (this is because in the other parts of Midnight series the character appears and could be confused with the reader of that story) anyway, I will avoid as much as possible the important physical descriptions like skin color, eyes, hair, etc.

Prologue | The deal day.

December - January | Learning to live with you.

February - March | Heated kisses and camouflaged feelings.

April - May | The weight of loving you.

June - July | Legal loopholes.

August - September | Bonds beyond a piece of paper.

October - November | Deadline, will you sign the contract again?

Epilogue | A future by your side.

Midnight Masterlist.

Inspired by this -Specifically the word Matching- by @lesservillain, let's say it's a prequel to kinktober, but not nsfw (? Also, it never hurts to imagine Stevie as Fred Jones.

Words: 1.2k

Warnings: None, maybe Fluff, I guess.

Even the 4 glasses of mystery punch Steve had drunk didn't stop him from wanting to hang Robin, and maybe himself for that matter. He was very drunk when he accepted this bet, like, too drunk. Robin, on the other hand, was completely sober, and took advantage of his state to play a trick on him.

The bet was that, if Steve managed to get a date for the Halloween party, then he would shut Robin's mouth and she would cover for him for a turn, but, if he didn't get a girl by then, he would have to wear a costume of Fred Jones, one of the main characters of an animated series called Scooby-Doo. Unfortunately, Steve lost.

"Come on, Stevie, don't make that face, the costume looks great on you" Robin grabbed some snacks from the table as she laughed under her breath. She wasn't lying, the costume fit him like a glove, and more than one girl had licked her lips just seeing how the white shirt fit perfectly around his torso. In a way, it reminded her of his time at Scoops Ahoy.

"This is extremely embarrassing" he muttered, going back to pouring himself some punch. His eyebrows were furrowed slightly, but his tone was still soft, he wasn't capable of getting angry at Robin. "You're lucky I appreciated you enough not to insult you like I want to."

Robin opened her mouth, ready to tease him about his fondness for her, but was quickly interrupted by a guy with messy hair and exaggerated red makeup.

"Steve!" Eddie stepped in front of Robin, grabbing Steve's shoulders and starting to drag him into the backyard of the house, "Why didn't you tell us you were coming with a date?"

"What date?" asked Robin and Steve at the same time, the surprised look on their faces causing Eddie to let out a too-loud chuckle.

"You know, Y/N" all three stopped at the same time, sharing looks of confusion, "Don't tell me you don't know Y/N? She's a friend of Chrissy's, she goes to every game to cheer her on."

"Sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not in school anymore, Eddie, hopefully I know you two, and Nancy."

Eddie turned his gaze to Robin, who only replied with a shrug, "I'm not looking out for the audience, I have to concentrate on what I play."

"God, you guys-"

"Eddie, you came!" the cheerful voice of Chrissy made the three of them startle, turning at the same time so they could see her. She was wearing a beautiful angel costume, it contrasted perfectly with Eddie's. They still couldn't understand how they could be such friends, "I thought you were busy."

"I was, but I made the time" he nodded slowly, starting to smile in a machiavellian way. "Hey, Chrissy, one question, your friend, Y/N, what did she come in disguise as?".

Steve coughed discreetly, stomping Eddie's foot. He didn't even know the girl yet and already felt embarrassed.

"Oh, it came from Daphne" Chrissy smiled brightly, pointing her hand at a girl with a purple dress and red hair. Steve could almost swear he felt his heart skip a beat. "Did you see her? She looks so beautiful! It's like the costume was made for her."

Eddie nodded in agreement, gritting his teeth through the pain that still lingered in his foot.

"I saw it a while ago, it's almost as well done as our 'Fred's'" with an all too feigned smile, Eddie rounded Steve's shoulders and pulled him close enough so that he was in Chrissy's viewing frame.

"Wow, I hadn't noticed," Chrissy's tone became a little sharper, and Steve thought he saw a glint in her blue eyes, "it really suits you, Steve."

"Thank you" he murmured embarrassed, at what point had he become so shy of compliments?

"The two of you should take a picture together, you'd look great" Steve tried to refuse, to tell her that he didn't want this to be forever etched in a photograph that anyone could use against him, but just as she arrived, Chrissy fled into the crowd and disappeared, not letting him have a say in the matter. At least, Steve thought, she was distracted enough to forget that idea.

The rest of the night, to Steve's surprise, was quite... pleasant. Many girls approached him to talk, or at least that was the excuse they used, it was more than obvious that they just wanted to flirt with him. It had been a long time since he had been in that situation, had it always been this awkward? He liked having a little female attention, it made him feel wanted, desired, but the conversations were so embarrassing that he couldn't help but feel nauseous, maybe he had had too much to drink.

"At last you are unoccupied" a shiver ran down his spine as he heard that soft voice speak to him. He was sure he had never heard it before, so he didn't understand why it had that effect on him. Yes, he definitely needed to lay off the alcohol for tonight. "I wanted to talk to you earlier, but I didn't want to interrupt."

When Steve turned around he couldn't help but think how cute you were. He was pretty sure you averaged the same as Chrissy, but with a little more body, your eyes were so bright and your smile felt so infectious. He wanted to squeeze your freckled cheeks.

"Uhm, sorry, not intentional" hr mumbled awkwardly, for some reason his head wasn't working as it should. "You must be Y/N."

You laughed nervously, you couldn't get it through your head, that Steve fucking Harrington knew you. "And I suppose you must be Steve."

"Bingo!" he shouted unconsciously, an overly unbalanced drunken laugh made you smile tenderly. You never imagined it like that.

"I see we came combined" you pointed at his disguise with your index finger, smiling as you watched him frown in confusion and look at himself.

"Oh, yes, Daphne and Fred" he nodded in agreement, "were the two of them a couple or...?"

"They have chemistry, if that's what you want to know" you grabbed a plastic cup and poured yourself some juice, you hated drinking at parties like this. "I didn't think you liked this kind of series."

"Oh, I don't like them" he nodded in agreement, leaning his hip on the kitchen counter. You felt too watched, and too nervous, "I came in like this on a dare."

"That's a pretty good costume to have been on a dare" you took a sip of juice and looked at Steve, he really did fit the character.

"I guess, it was pretty simple, really" he mumbled slurring his words.

"There you were, Y/N!" Chrissy paused at the entrance to the kitchen, watching you both intently, "Oh..." a big grin appeared on her face and she was quick to pull out of her backpack - which she hadn't taken off so no one would steal it - a camera.

Steve and you both grimaced almost at the same time.

"What are you doing with that?" you tried to take it from her, but Chrissy grabbed your hands and dragged you over until you were standing next to Steve.

"I'll take a very beautiful picture of you two" she brought the camera quickly to your eyes and took the picture. You didn't even have time to react. "Aw, you're so cute" squealed Chrissy, heading for the exit doing little hops.

"Chrissy, wait!" you set the glass down on the counter and looked at Steve with an embarrassed look, "Excuse me, I have to go get her, I'm so sorry about the picture."

And you left. And Steve stayed. And a too-unnecessary idea stayed with him.

"Should I watch the series?"

Masterlist

Kinktober, Day 4: Cock Warming | Steve Harrington x Fem! Reader.

Warnings: Mom!Reader, honeymoon night, this doesn't have smut, actually. It's very fluffy lol sorry.

Your slender fingers tangled in Steve's hair, pulling him gently to kiss his lips slowly. Steve was... confused, but not unsatisfied, he would never be with you, much less sexually, but he didn't understand why you wouldn't let him out of you.

"Honey" he murmured between kisses, cursing himself internally for not being able to deny his now wife's kisses. He loved you too much, he would be unable to deny you one, "what's wrong, why won't you let me out?".

Your hand tensed for a moment. With slightly flushed cheeks you averted your gaze elsewhere. You pursed your lips and, the second later, mumbled, "well, it's the first time we've been together like this and, I don't know," your hands played nervously with Steve's chest hair. You felt too self-conscious. "I thought if we were like this I'd remember that it's you by my side, that you'd never leave me alone with my kids."

Steve's heart leapt. He loved you, adored both you and your childrens, and was immensely happy that you accepted him into your family. He couldn't understand how someone so kind, cute and nice could doubt herself so much, to him you were the perfect woman, everything he ever wanted, and yet, because of an idiot incapable of maturing, this person he had fallen in love with was losing more and more of his trust.

"I understand" he ran his fingers over your cheeks, his dark eyes were fixed on yours. He was trying to make you understand everything he felt for you, how tonight had been amazing for him, as much as it had been for you. He wanted you to understand that, with just one look, he would be at your feet. "I'll stay like this as long as you want me to, tonight is all about you."

"Us" you murmured with a radiant smile and an unusual sparkle in your beautiful eyes. Steve swore he had fallen a little more in love, as if that were possible, "tonight is about us, Steve."

He took your hand in his. You could barely cover Steve's hands, but neither of you cared. You brought your lips up to Steve's hand and kissed the wedding ring. A sigh of satisfaction escaped Steve's lips. Definitely, he thought, this would be the best day of his life.

Masterlist

Kinktober masterlist.

Kinktober | Stranger Things.

Day 1: Handcuffs | Eddie / Steve.

Day 2: Condom | Eddie / Steve.

Day 3: Breeding | Eddie / Steve.

Day 4: Cock Warming | Eddie / Steve.

Day 5: Knot | Eddie / Steve.

Day 6: Blowjob | Eddie / Steve.

Day 7: Size Kink | Eddie / Steve.

Day 8: Tit Fucking | Eddie / Steve.

Day 9: Missionary | Eddie / Steve.

Day 10: Amomaxia/Photography | Steve / Eddie.

Day 11: Drunk Sex | Eddie / Steve.

Day 12: Bondage's hanging | Eddie / Steve.

Day 13: Femdom | Eddie / Steve.

Day 14: Sex in club | Eddie / Steve.

Day 15: Under water | Eddie / Steve.

Day 16: Sex in nature | Eddie / Steve.

Day 17: Dildo | Eddie / Steve.

Day 18: Stuck | Eddie / Steve.

Day 19: Kiss/bite | Eddie / Steve.

Day 20: Oil | Eddie / Steve.

Day 21: Hair pulling | Eddie / Steve.

Day 22: Rubbing | Eddie / Steve.

Day 23: Phone sex | Eddie / Steve.

Day 24: Rider pose | Eddie / Steve.

Day 25: Dry humping | Eddie / Steve.

Day 26: Cumshot | Eddie / Steve.

Day 27: Aphrodisiac | Eddie / Steve.

Day 28: Edging | Eddie / Steve.

Day 29: Web-cam/Camera | Eddie / Steve.

Day 30: Mirror | Eddie / Steve.

Day 31: Aftercare | Eddie / Steve.

Kinktober, Day 5: Knot | Steve Harrington x Fem!reader.

Warnings: +18 MDNI, Alpha!Steve, Omega!Reader.

Words: +400.

A/n: Sorry for being a ghost lately, lol. I was very busy, but I promise that in November I will be more constant ^^.

Steve rarely gave in to his alpha urges. All his life he had been raised to have his instincts completely under control in any kind of situation, or so he thought.

From the moment he met you he knew things were going to change for him. You were... different from what he knew. You were cheerful and cute and sparkled in his eyes, always flashing him that radiant smile, your off-white pink hair that you always brought loose around you, letting the chocolate and strawberry scent that belonged to you captivate his entire being, causing his hormones to go almost through the roof. Yes, it was a problem.

It took Steve very little time to discover that you were his destined one. He knew it the very day you came within kissing distance, when his hands touched yours and a shiver ran through his body. At that moment he knew he was yours, and that you were his, even if you were not yet marked.

That wasn't something that really affected Steve, or so he believed until your first night together.

Being so close to you, being at one with the person he was meant to be with had affected him too much, he wasn't thinking, all that was in his head were your bright eyes, your half-open lips sighing softly and your cheeks flushed from the effort. It was impossible to resist, his instincts could no longer hide, not at that moment, not in that situation.

"Steve?" You sighed breathlessly near his ear. A shiver ran through your body as you felt his nose brush against your pulse point.

He didn't respond, instead he continued his steady rhythm that was getting messier and messier. Your gasps and moans kept him in his trance to the point where he couldn't help but lick your hot skin. His brown eyes changed to a bright yellow color, a color neither of you could see, but one they would both feel the effect of.

"Shit" growled Steve, licking his lips and staring at his beloved's neck, "Y/N?" he closed his eyes tightly as he heard a strange sound in response, "can I...do you want me to mark you?"

You opened your eyes quickly, turning away from Steve so you could see his eyes. A tingling appeared in your stomach at the sight of his yellow eyes. You swallowed saliva, thinking hard about what he had just said.

"Please?" he whispered, bringing his lips close to yours. Your mind could barely think straight, the sound of your hips colliding and the passionate sighing not helping your situation much.

"Will it hurt much?" You whispered against his lips. Your eyes staring into Steve's, a mixture of love, desire and terror shrouded these.

"No, of course not, I could never do anything to hurt you" Steve's lips left a trail of kisses heading for your neck.

Your lips were pursed tightly as Steve's rhythm increased. A cry of pleasure left Steve as his felt your insides tighten around him. He closed his eyes and opened his mouth, his teeth already grazing your soft skin.

"I love you," you said in a soft, caramel tone, stroking Steve's hair and pulling him closer to you.

A snarl escaped his lips, the same one that was covered by his teeth piercing your skin and her high-pitched scream. He tasted your blood, licking the blood that was slowly beginning to trickle down your neck. His bright eyes filled with desire as he felt that, at last, you were totally his and no one else's.

Masterlist

.·:*¨¨*:·.`·.,◞Rules◟,.·´.·:*¨¨*:·.

Who I write about:

Steve Harrington.

Billy Hargrove.

Eddie Munson.

Jonathan Byers.

Robin Buckley.

I will receive request if:

They are angst, fluff, smut, I'm pretty flexible on the subject.

The request is made with respect.

Request comes with detailed/specific description.

I will not receive request if:

The request has Daddy Kink, BDSM, or any mistreatment of the character to the reader.

The request was against a community, there may be slight mentions in the shot, but never any kind of disrespect that could hurt someone.

Pairings between characters in the series (such as Steddie, Ronance, Harringrove, etc.)

List:

Prompts | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38 | 39 | 40 | 41 | 42 | 43 | 44 | 40 | 46 | 47 | 48 | 49 | 50 | 51 | 52 | 53 | 54 | 55 | 56 | 57 | 58 | 59 | 60 | 61 | 62 | 63 | 64 | 65 | 66 | 67 | 68 | 69 | 70

[The red ones are from @me-writes-prompts , the blue ones are from @dumplingsjinson, the Orange ones are from @novelbear, the pink ones are from @luvmmarner, the green ones are from @youneedsomeprompts, the purple ones are from @creweemmaeec11, the black one is from @lunememes, the black one is from @streets-crimes, the cursive one is from @delusionisaplace, the Orange cursive one is from @poohsources, the blue cursive one is from @promptplanetblr and the red cursive one is from @akmwrites , give them all your love, the prompts are amazing 💕💕]

Join to my taglist if you want 💕

[You can specify in which series or with which characters you want to be].

You can always send comments through the ask box or dm, I love to talk 💕.

Hi! I'm sorry I've been missing for so long, I've been very busy and haven't had that much imagination lol.

I came mostly to give a notice. I'm going to be temporarily on hiatus, but orders will still be open and I'll do them as long as they follow the rules ^^. I'm sorry for being so missing.

Look at part two too <3 it's a master piece

Moral Of The Story

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem! Reader, slight Eddie Munson x Fem! Reader

Requested?: Yes

Summary: Steve was still in love with Nancy, it was clear as day. 

WC: 4.1k (this is going to be a wild ride)

Warning/s: VOL 2 SPOILERS! swearing, very much angst, mentions of knives, guns, lmk if I missed anything!

Note: Eyeing a part 2 tbh, let me know if you want it! feedbacks, likes, and reblogs are appreciated, please let me know your thoughts!

PART TWO

Do you remember the saying “Trust your gut”?

Sure, you had no problems trusting your gut feeling before, but now you were having a hard time doing that now. How could you?

You loved Steve without a doubt, you’ve poured all the love you had for this man, you think, ever since the first time the two of you met at your job at Scoops Ahoy, which led to discovering a secret base and even getting drugged with Steve. That whole ordeal led the two of you even closer, and before the two of you could realize, you had fallen for each other.

Approximately a year into the relationship, that’s when things started going south as problems with the Upside Down emerged again, finding yourselves with the group of kids who were more knowledgeable about this stuff rather than anyone. And that’s when Steve started seeing Nancy again.

Trust your gut, right? It was more like; how could you not trust your gut when your boyfriend still looks at her like a lovesick puppy?

You could see it, hell everyone must’ve also seen it in a way, even in the Upside Down in Eddie’s trailer when Vecna was grabbing ahold of Nancy, as her eyes rolled almost to the back of her head Steve was there, although you already left the gate and were in the original Hawkins, you could see through the gate. You could see through how Steve panicked, cupping her cheek, and shouting out her name, then shaking her shoulders.

Then the panic came in when Nancy didn’t respond. You also didn’t realize how long you had been biting your lip in anxiety as everyone stared through the gate.

That’s when you heard a loud gasp as Nancy came back, her body feeling faint as she almost fell to the ground, but thanks to Steve, he catches her, wrapping his arms around her. His hand on the back of her neck for support, slowly going over to her cheek as he whispers, “It’s okay, I’m right here.” Nancy looks at him, catching her breath. “I’m right here.”

That was the last thing you heard before you couldn’t take it anymore, you were heading out of Eddie’s trailer, slamming the door, making Eddie glance and look for you.

Keep reading

Hi! I saw the requests were open so I’ll ask!

If you don’t wanna it’s okay!

Could I request an Eddie munson x reader?

Spoiler warning!!! Season 4 vol2!

PLEASE bring this man back to life, maybe it could be he’s in a coma like max and the reader refuses to leave his side for days, weeks until he wakes up. But his uncle wants to move him out of the town since it’s too dangerous for him here.

Then Eddie probably would force the reader to move with them! Idk you make up the end!

It could start off angst then move onto fluff! Thanks!

hii!! omg that sounds incredible, our poor baby deserves so much better 😭😭

i will totally write this, im unfortunately sick at the moment but i will get round to it as soon as i can!! 💕

currently writing a prompt list for my requests, but you can still request without using prompts!! they may take longer to get round to as they’ll need more planning but thats totally cool too!!

𝙋𝙍𝙊𝙈𝙋𝙏 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

angst prompts;

“We don’t want to do this, I know. But we need this”

“Why didn’t you say h-how bad it was?”

“You’re not worth crying over”

“Everything is temporary, this was just one of those things.”

”They told me to make sure you’re okay”

“You hurt me more than you will ever know ___”

“You deserve better than this”

“People don’t like me, I don’t care”

“It’s easier when you’re around, so why did you leave?”

”I didn’t want to hurt you”

”Please don’t say anything, just stay. Please?”

”I would do anything to make this work”

”We can start over. I’ll do anything. Just please don’t leave again.”

”Why don’t you see that? Why don’t you see me?”

“Everything must come to an end eventually.”

”I thought we were okay, I thought you were okay.”

”I can’t do this without you”

”Please don’t do this!”

”Do you hate me?”

“The worst part of all of this is that I still love you.”

“Don’t kiss me, you don’t get to do that to me.”

“You’re a mess; have you been crying?”

“I can tell you’ve been crying.”

“You’re here.” “I’m here, just like I promised.”

“I came back for you. I told you I would, and I did.”

“You’re always in my head, no matter where, no matter when.”

“I can’t love you anymore, I want to hate you, so desperately.”

“I knew from the moment I met you, you were special. But not special enough.”

“We never were, and never will be. I’m sorry.”

“I did something. And you’ll hate me for it.”

“Do you think I liked hurting this much?”

“Please - please look at me.”

“Please, not again.”

“Not everyone is out to hurt you.”

“I-I’m trying, I really am..”

“Please, just kiss me. One last time? It’s all I ask..”

“I can’t sleep, can I stay with you?”

“You won’t believe me..” “Try me.”

“Is it too late?”

“I needed you. And you weren’t here.”

“I want my life back.”

“No, don't. It’s not safe.”

“Don’t touch them!”

“I’ll never let you go”

“I thought I lost you”

“You could’ve died!” “I didn’t-” “Yeah, well, you were too damn close.”

“There’s nothing you can do. So please, just hold me one more time.”

“Come back, please!”

“Someone help me! Please!”

“Please, anyone but them.”

“I know it hurts.”

“I just need to be alone.”

“I’m so, so very sorry.”

“It’s better this way.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“Don’t make this harder than it already is.”

“I love you so. “Please let me go.”

“You’re hurting me.” “So?”

“You’re leaving again, aren’t you?”

“There’s no shame in crying, you know?”

“Don’t do this to yourself.”

“Let me help you, please?”

“Stop pushing everyone away.”

“You haven’t been yourself lately, are you okay?”

“You didn’t do anything wrong this time.”

“Hold my hand.”

“Don’t go where I can’t follow.”

“I’m a monster, aren’t I?”

“I can’t take this anymore.”

“Why are you holding me like this?” “Cause if I let go, I won’t be able to hold you again.”

“I’m begging you, please don’t shut me out.”

“You won’t need me anymore.” “I think I’ll always need you.”

“I have the right to be worried!”

“I’m just trying to help you!” “Well don’t!”

“I’m your friend, of course I care!” “I don’t want to be your friend!"

hurt/comfort prompts;

“Can you please come and get me?”

“I’m at the hospital, I’m okay, I promise.”

“Hey, you’re gonna hurt yourself, don’t do that”

“When was the last time you slept?”

“You’re hot.” “Thanks?” “I mean you’re burning up.” “Oh.”

“No, no, don’t cry. I hate it when you cry.”

“Because nobody likes me! No one cares about me!”

“I care about you, okay?!”

“Please don’t leave me alone.”

“You’re bleeding!”

“Nightmares again? They can’t hurt you.”

“Hey look at me, breathe, just breathe.”

“Please sleep, you haven’t in so long.”

“Stop telling me you’re okay.”

“I don’t know where I am, please come find me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Don’t touch me!”

“I just need a hug”

“I got you, okay?”

“Can I stay in here?”

“Shh, I’m here.”

“Losing you is my worst nightmare”

“I wish you could see you the way I see you”

“Did you really have to be so honest?”

“I don’t know what I want”

“I still need you.”

“You promised me!”

“I gave you all I had!”

“Don’t let me do this.”

“You deserve better than me.”

“I thought you’d be here..”

“I’ll never be that me again.”

“You can still be good.”

“Don’t act like you know me!”

“Because I care about you, okay?”

“It wasn’t supposed to end like this..”

“Am I supposed to just let you go?”

“You don’t mean that..”

“Please, just hold me.”

“You look awful.”

“I can’t lose you too.”

“It’s not your fault..”

“I don't know who I am anymore.”

“You’re not alone anymore”

“You don’t have to do this alone”

“I don’t care what they think, you’re my everything.”

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Hear my heartbeat? Just focus on that.”

“You’re not gonna lose me, I promise.”

“I’m okay, you’re okay, we’re okay.”

sickness/injury prompts;

“Tell me where it hurts.”

“How did this happen?

“Let me see.”

“How bad is it?”

“Can you carry me?”

“I can’t move.”

“Don’t move!”

“I can’t see.”

“I’m sorry, this is going to hurt.”

“I can’t feel anything.”

“You’re burning up.”

“I-I threw up.”

“Don’t worry, I’m going to take care of you.”

“When did this happen?”

“How long have you felt like this?”

“ why didn’t you tell me it hurt so bad?”

“It’s only a scratch - o-oh..”

“I fell down..”

“Please make it stop.”

“Stop moving, you’ll make it worse.”

“I can’t get up.”

“I can’t do this on my own, I need you.”

“It really hurts.”

“My head hurts..”

“You’re shaking, why?”

“Do you even see how pale you are?”

“You’re not fine, you need help.”

“I can’t sleep knowing you’re not okay.”

“Do you have any ibuprofen?” “you took three twenty minutes ago..”

“How many did you take?”

“I’ll clean you up real good, don’t worry. You’re safe.”

“Why is there so much blood?”

“Is that your blood?”

“I’m gonna fix you up, okay?”

“Stop making me laugh, my stomach hurts.”

“Nothing’s gonna happen, I’m here, okay?”

“I have to do this, or you’re gonna die!”

“I know it hurts.”

“I love you too much to leave you here.”

“Is it that hard to ask for help?”

“You’re okay? Really? Cause you look far from it right now.”

“Hey, you gave me quite the scare, kiddo.”

“I think that nurse has a crush on you.”

“I just want to go home.”

“I’m so, so tired.”

“Hey, wake up!”

“Just keep looking at me, okay? Eyes on me okay? I’m almost done, and then you sleep, but right now you need to keep your eyes on me.”

“Focus on my words, stay with me.”

“You’re doing great, just stay awake.”

“You can’t sleep now, it’s not time to sleep.”

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”

“Hey! Hey, hey, hey, I’ve got you, you’re okay.”

“No, no, no! Stay with me please!”

“It’s okay, we’re okay.”

“No, please! Take me instead!”

“I’m not leaving your side, you hear me?”

“They’ve had enough! Please! Stop!”

“This is all my fault, I should never have left you..”

“All this time, I never knew, I’m so sorry.”

“You didn’t deserve any of this.”

“I’m coming closer, is it okay if I touch you?”

“I thought I’d lost you.”

“Leave them alone!” 

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“___? ___? Wake up! It’s just a nightmare!”

“I’m dying, there’s nothing you can do.”

“It hurts so much, make it stop, please.”

“How bad is it?”

“I knew this would happen sooner or later.”

“Please get up.”

“I swear to god, if you die on the way back I’ll kill you myself.”

“Don’t move, you’ll make it worse.”

“Is everything supposed to be dark?”

“How are you still standing?!”

“You could’ve died you idiot!”

fluff prompts;

“You’re hair is so soft.”

“You smell good. Like, really good.”

“You’re my new pillow.”

“We can talk over dinner, how about that?”

“Don’t get up, I’ll do it.”

“Can you rub my back?”

“I’ll always be here for you.”

“You’re so beautiful/handsome.”

“I will always protect you, no matter what.”

“You make me believe in love.”

“I think I’m in love with you.”

“Don’t be silly, I want to stay with you.”

“Shush and go back to bed.”

“How about a kiss?”

“I’ll do the dishes tonight, you relax.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“You make me feel safe.”

“Everything just feels right with you.”

“God, I love you.”

“I love seeing you happy”

“Let me take care of you, please?”

“You’re my family.”

“You make me feel alive again”

“I need you to know, I’m always gonna be here. Rain or shine, light or dark, I’m here.”

“You’re intoxicating.”

“We can just sit here, we don’t even have to talk.”

“I trust you, more than I trust myself.”

“You have a beautiful soul.”

“Your eyes are captivating.”

“Everything you do has a touch of magic to it.”

“You don’t have to pretend with me. Not with me. Not ever.”

“You make everything easier.”

“Hold me, please?”

“You’re more than enough.”

“You’re my hero, so let me be yours too.”

“I like how your hand fits in mine.” “Oh don’t be so cliche.”

“I needed to hear your voice, it fixes everything.”

“Wait, don’t get up, not yet.”

“Five more minutes?”

“I really like holding you, my love.”

“I can’t get over how a few months ago I didn’t even know your name, and now I get to wake up beside you.”

“I didn’t know it was possible to smile so much.”

“I’m cold, come back.”

“You said you wouldn't laugh!”

“Stop moving, I’m almost done!”

“Don’t be nervous, you can come closer.”

“Carry me?”

“You’re shivering, here, take my jacket.”

“You.. sorry, you just got a little something on your face”

“You stayed?” “Of course I stayed, you’re here. Where else would I be?”

“Hey, everything’s gonna be fine. Stay where you are, I’m on my way.”

“Oh I found this in the mall and thought of you!”

“Wow, you look amazing.”

“I made breakfast if you’re hungry?”

“You’re freezing!”

“This calls for cuddles.”

“I’m happier with you”

“I like having you here”

“Just tell me what you need, alright?”

“Why are you smiling like that?” “Smiling like what?” “Like you just won the lottery, that kind of smile.” “Because I did.”

“I’m all yours, I’m not going anywhere.”

“C’mere, let’s get some air”

“Who did this to you?”

“I love you so much it hurts”

“Can I come in? I’m worried about you.”

“Can I walk you home?”

“I sometimes wish you could see yourself with my eyes..”

“Is that my shirt?”

“Don’t think I won’t carry you!”

“You’re not sleeping on the couch, come on get in here.”

“Please talk to me, it’s killing me seeing you this way.”

“You look better in my clothes than I do”

“I believe you.”

“You can tell me anything.”

“Can I play with your hair?”

“Did you just kiss me?”

“If you cry, i’ll cry - and that won’t be fun for anyone”

“I’ve dreamt about this”

“Wow you’re photogenic”

“Quick , kiss me!”

“”You don’t want me, I’m broken.” “I’m going to spend the rest of my life putting you back together.”

“Is there a reason you’re blushing like that?”

“Have you seen my hoodie?” “Nooo.” “You’re wearing it, aren’t you?”

“Have you always been this beautiful?”

“”You’re so pretty I think I’m gonna faint.”

“Do you think the moon is jealous of how stunning you are?”

“I missed you so damn much.”

“Are we about to kiss right now?”

“Please just kiss me already.”

“Can we just stay like this forever?”

“I will love you til the end of time.”

“Thank you.” “For what?” “Being you.”

“Hey sunshine.”

“I’ve never felt like this before, and it scares me.”

“I could get used to this whole domestic thing.”

“You deserve the world and more.”

“This might sound selfish, but I don’t care about the world! I only care about you!

“Say it again. Please, I need to hear you say it again.”

“Kiss me you idiot.”

“Wait, you love me?”

how they say “i love you” prompts; (creds to p0ck3tf0x)

“Pull over, I’ll drive for a while.”

“I saw this, it reminded me of you.”

“No, no it’s my treat.”

“Come here, let me fix it.”

“I’ll walk you home.”

“Have a good day at work.”

“I dreamt about you last night.”

“Take my seat.”

“I saved a piece for you.”

“You can have half.”

“Take my jacket, it's cold outside.”

“Can I have this dance?”

“I made your favourite!”

“It’s okay, I couldn’t sleep anyway.”

“Watch your step.”

“Here, drink this .You’ll feel better.”

“I thought you might like this.”

“I’ll wait for you.”

“Just because.”

“Look both ways!”

“Want to try some?”

“Drive safely!”

“Just one more chapter?”

“Don’t worry about me.”

“It looks great on you.”

“Close your eyes and hold out your hands.”

“That’s okay, I bought two.”

“After you.”

“We’ll figure it out, okay?”

“Can I kiss you, please?"

types of kisses;

-goodbye kisses

-hello kisses

-breathless kisses

-heated kisses

-first kisses

-holiday kisses

-comforting kisses

-”I thought I lost you” kisses

-”we can’t do this” kisses

-”come to bed” kisses

-”you look beautiful/handsome” kisses

-”i’ll be right back” kisses

-hand in hair kisses

-neck & collarbone kisses

-the “i’m so madly in love with you” kisses

-the “shut up” kisses

jealousy, jealousy || s.h

summary: in which you’re steve’s best friend of 6 years and have developed a massive crush on him. steve starts to ditch you for his new girlfriend and you don’t know what to do.

pairing: steve harrington x female!reader

warnings: none!

a/n: this is my first fic 🫣

reblogging is perfectly fine just pls dont steal!!

steve was your best friend. always had been and always will be, and nothing more than that. you slowly started to develop a crush on him in your freshman year, but you never had the courage to tell him. whenever a girl at school confronted you in the hallway asking you if you were dating steve, you would chuckle and say no, only to see her wrapped close in steve’s arms the next week. that cycle continued throughout highschool and absolutely tore you. eventually, you learned to bury your feelings for steve and attempted to move on. after many unsuccessful dates and pitiful hookups, you had decided to give dating a break and stay single. after the summer you graduated, you and steve had gotten jobs at family video after realizing you could have more opportunities to spend time together. what you didn’t know is that your manager keith also hired robin to work with you in place of steve when he had to go babysit dustin, lucas, mike, will, max and el, but oh boy were you glad he did. robin had soon become your bestest friend besides steve and your new gossip partner. robin was very observant and not oblivious to the chemistry between you and steve. any chance she got, she would try and leave you two alone to see if you would finally take her advice and admit to steve that you liked him. she didn’t not notice his quick glances at you, and how he took a mental note of your favorite candy when you used the family video vending machine, or how you wrote your g’s with an unnecessary but adorable extra squiggle. thats why robin insisted on your slow day to just sit at the counter and gossip. about steve.

“so y/n… how have things with steve been,” robin says with a smirk while playing with a piece of tape stuck on the counter.

you sigh. how have things been going with steve? god you hadn’t even heard from him in a week!

“uh well we are planning to go to the movies tomorrow, but they were made almost three weeks ago, and before he got with jenny,” you say with a sigh.

“aww man y/n, don’t tell me you’ve been beating yourself up over this,” robin says with a half pitiful smile. but it was true, you couldn’t stop overthinking how steve would just brush you off for some girl he’s been dating for three weeks. “i could’ve sworn that steve was madly obsessed with you, i really don’t know what’s gotten into him,” she says. you respond with a tight lipped smile.

“well, i guess we’ll see,” you say with a shrug, but you really did hope steve wasn’t going to ditch you.

the next day rolled around and you waited in the parking lot of the movie theatre, rocking back and forth in your boots. you glanced at your watch that read 6:10. the movie started at 6:15. where was he? you could almost feel your heart drop when steve drove into the parking spot adjacent to you with jenny sitting in the passenger seat animatedly chatting with him.

“hey y/n!” steve said as he rolled down his window. “is it ok if jenny watches with us?”

you couldn’t help but feel the tears threatening to spill from your burning eyes when you heard that. you had a particularly rough day at family video with rude customers and having to cover steve’s shift so he could hang out with jenny, and the last thing you needed was for jenny to ruin what you thought would be a fun and relaxing hangout with steve. but instead of voicing your feelings, you pursed your lips together and smiled while nodding.

“perfect!” steve exclaimed, while pulling you so his arm would be hanging on your shoulder. “my two favorite women on my left and right!”he said, making jenny giggle and push into his chest even more. you couldn’t help the feeling of jealousy burning in your chest. you awkwardly walked with steve’s arm looped around your shoulder into the movie theatre. you guys got popcorn and slushies and situated yourselves into your respective seats. as the movie started you actually enjoyed it, and almost forgot about jenny and steve. about 30 minutes into the movie, you heard jenny’s sickening giggles as she started to make out with steve. you could swear you would’ve slapped her had you not gone up to excuse yourself to the bathroom. you ran as quick as you could and locked yourself into the stall and sobbed as your body shook with years of bottled up feelings. you didn’t know what to do. you looked down at your watch and saw that 20 minutes had passed, and realized steve would be concerned as to why you had been gone for so long, or so you hoped that he still cared about your whereabouts even if he was preoccupied with jenny. you decided that you couldn’t stand to be confronted by the sight of steve and jenny and so you called robin to pick you up. she understood your feelings and you went and stayed at her place to watch movies and cry over stupid men and women.

you woke up the next day and glanced at your phone hoping to see many missed calls from steve. you couldn’t help but feel your heart hurt when you only saw one missed call. you knew that steve wasn’t obligated to call you, but he always had before. you frown and snuggle back into robin’s couch as you felt numb from all the crying of the night before.

“hey y/n!” robin said from the kitchen, “toast or pop tarts?” she yelled.

you giggled and responded with pop tarts. pop tarts. steve’s favorite flavor was blueberry. you couldn’t stop thinking about him no matter how hard you tried. even after you left robin’s house and walked around starcourt mall as robin talked her head off about vicki, you couldn’t help but feel the betrayal.

“hel-hello? y/n? Y/N!?” robin yells as she snaps her hand in your face.

“oh god robin! are you always this aggressive?” you say, grasping your hand over your heart and feigning fake hurt.

she chuckles but she did know why you’re so upset, and she made it her summer mission to make steve and y/n an official thing. when she walked into family video the next day, she immediately pulled steve into the back rooms.

“woah! feisty there!” steve exclaims, “but you know i have a girlfriend, well um i used to have one.” he says while cringing to himself.

“you know im not into you, you dingbat!” robin exclaims while fake hitting him with a family video poster.

steve playfully surrenders, putting his hands up in the air.

“ok but seriously steve, what has gotten into you? i mean suddenly you ditch me and y/n, you expect us to cover for your shifts here, and then this is all for a girl we haven’t even met!” robin says throwing her hands up in the air exasperated.

“first of all,” steve says annoyed, “y/n has met jenny, although she left a third into the movie, not sure why,” he says while actually pondering upon it. why did you leave? he thought to himself.

“well you idiot,” robin says, almost screaming at him, “its because she loves you, you dingbat!!” robin yells. she quickly slaps her hand over her mouth not meaning to expose you like that. shit.

“what?” is all steve can seem to say. he is truly dumb stricken. his best friend of 6 years loves him? he felt like such a fool. all the times you had comforted him after he left a short relationship and ended up heartbroken, all the times where he needed someone to cry to, all the times where he needed to be held and comforted, he went to you. but when was he ever there? he felt a warm feeling in his chest, one he felt months before meeting jenny. god he couldn’t lose you now, or he would lose you forever.

“god im such an idiot!” he exclaims while slapping his forehead.

“yes! yes you are! now steve listen to me. you need to go to y/n’s house right now because she’s leaving for college to florida and you may never see her again!!” robin exclaims.

“what? but she never told me,” steve said quietly, a little hurt you couldn’t even tell him. but how could you? you knew you would only hurt yourself more.

steve wasted no time driving to your house and definitely breaking some speeding laws. he let out a breath of relief that he didn’t know he was holding in when he saw the light in your room was on. steve knew where the extra key to your house was, as he was always inviting himself in. or he used to. he reached under the potted plant, surprised to find nothing. he looked under the plant on the parallel side to see if there was a mistake. what? why was there no key? he thought to himself. surely you still trusted him enough to leave the key, right? steve had no time to question when you suddenly whipped the door open thinking that your mom had finally returned from the home decor store. you stood dumbfounded to see steve.

“uh hi steve, why are you here?“ you say scratching your neck.

“oh i don’t know? maybe because i haven’t seen my best friend in like what? a week? god y/n what happened to us? we used to talk everyday!” steve said getting riled up.

best friends. thats all he considered us to be, you thought to yourself.

“jenny happened,” you said under your breath.

“jenny?!” steve exclaimed, “oh god y/n we broke up a couple days ago, but being with her made me realize i love you.” steve says rapidly confessing and stumbling over his words.

you stand there shocked, not knowing how to respond. “you!” you stab at steve’s chest with your finger. “you brought her to our hangout at the movies! you ditched me and made me cover your shifts at family video for her! you cant just come here expecting my forgiveness steve because suddenly you want me to your rebound!!” you exclaim, stuttering and sobbing as tears rolled onto your shirt.

“but y/n i said i loved you! i don’t care about jenny. its always been you. and she cheated on me. y/n i promise you, you’re not my rebound. every time i see you i feel these butterflies in my stomach, and when you left at the theatre, god i was so worried you got hurt or something.” steve says trying to calm you down.

“but you didnt even bother looking for me?! or calling me?! how do you expect me to trust you now?” you say almost laughing at the absurdity of the whole situation.

“jenny! she told me that if i didn’t stay she would leak some blackmail she had on me! a-and she broke my phone right after i called you because she was mad that i threatened to tell everyone about what she was trying to do.” steve says starting to take quick and shallow breaths, almost hyperventilating.

“o-oh my god steve. im so sorry. are you ok? i swear i’ll beat that bitch up,” you say, earning a chuckle from steve who had steadied his breathing.

“its fine i think. i got rid of all the blackmail before i dumped her.” steve says, rubbing the side of his arm. “she cheated on me with jason, and he threatened to hurt you if i ever told anyone about this. i-i was so worried for you, y/n”

you take a deep breath in, trying to process all of what steve had just said.

“i need to time steve. i need time to process this. and i need time for you to prove to me that i’m not just another monthly fling, or rebound.” you say to him quietly.

“ok.” he says.

“what?” you question, not thinking steve would actually do it.

“ok. i’ll do it!” he exclaims, “i’ll do it if it means that i would have the honor to call you mine.”

you offer a small smile at him and tell him you’ll consider an actual and proper date next week, at the movies of course.

- time skip 6 months -

you and steve had finally started dating 4 months ago, after he had proved that he was earnestly looking for a relationship with you, and god you’ve never been happier. you did move to florida for college, but luckily steve got into a university in south carolina, so you two weren’t too far apart. all you could do now is love your life and thank robin for yelling at steve all those months ago.

promise me nothing.

pairings. steve harrington x fem!reader

about. steve and you cross paths, only for him to find out some bad news about you.

warnings. foul language, s4 spoilers sorta

ricky rocks. anotha one 😼🙌 also part two or nah?

“long time, no see, harrington,” you nod as you pass him before looking up and unintentionally connecting eyes with five other people at once. “and children…”

you nod again in acknowledgement, getting a good look at them all before making a move to walk away from the car they were all huddled around, but steve grabs your arm, “hey, what’s going on?”

“i don’t know what you mean.”

he rolls his eyes, still holding your bicep firmly. he tips his head toward the swarm of law enforcement in the front of a house before raising a brow, “you’re telling me this is nothing?”

“just about.”

“y/n.”

“what?”

“i think we need to talk.”

you and steve go back; way back since pre-school days, and although neither of you were ever truly close, there was a mutual understanding that you both had each other’s backs.

you both came from similar backgrounds; life set up since day one, given nice cars, lived in nice houses, and grew up in the hawkins country club aspect for loser adults trying to relive high school popularity by flaunting money.

and you were only tied more together by the strange and abnormal encounters and fights for life against the sci-fi creatures that had no faces and were covered from head to toe in slime—that eventually turned into something way bigger than the mind could fathom.

ever since the mall fire during the summer after senior year, you hadn’t seen steve or any of his nerd posse—till now.

you almost thought you were seeing things, but then again, you should have guessed that when anything remotely strange or out of the normal happened in hawkins, they’d always turn up, immediately on the case.

just never this fast.

“i think i’m dying.”

“what?”

you stood in front of steve, nancy, robin, and three of his freshman friends. their presence made you suddenly anxious and you couldn’t help but begin to talk out of your ass as you slightly paced back and forth in your parents living room.

how steve coaxed you into talking to them—you weren’t sure—but it didn’t take long and it seemed you were almost more than willing to allow them into your home by the way you so easily opened your front door and offered snacks and refreshments.

yep, you were definitely dying.

they watched you with sudden concerned and confused looks, not knowing what to say and not expecting you to throw them this type of curve ball.

“brandon,” you mumbled, your hands shaking out in front of you. “jesus, i can’t even think straight…” you place your hand on your forehead, thinking over whether or not you should ever be speaking right then. “he’s dead.”

“who’s brandon?” dustin glances around to everyone but you, afraid to make eye contact almost.

“her boyfriend,” steve whispers, speaking as if you can’t hear them. and you almost couldn’t.

“i can’t even-i don’t even know-“

“hey, hey,” steve stops you in your tracks of speaking, sitting up from the chair he previously sat in. “you don’t have to say anything right now, just breathe. sit down.”

steve liked you, a lot. like, since day one, even as kids, he couldn’t get you out of his mind.

there was just something about you. you had a good head on your shoulders, you knew what you wanted, you didn’t let anything or anyone knock you off your feet, and you didn’t need anyone to save you. he hated that fact—the fact that you didn’t need him and he hated that sometimes it seemed you weren’t anything more than acquaintance.

“sit down,” he pulled you by the arm till you were close enough for him to place a hand on your waist, carefully guiding you to the chair he was previously in, giving you a soft look. “just breathe for a moment, alright?”

everyone glanced to each other at the gesture, almost not believing it. they looked to steve now where he stood in your place, his hand stroking his chin in thought, “i think it’s time we call in your pal eddie.”

**

it seemed you were in and out of sensibility as you thought over the past 24 hours, not believing it was real. you felt crazy, not being able to keep a stable thought in your head for more than a minute before turning into an emotional mess.

steve knew you weren’t in your right mind, especially after you let eddie into your home without a second thought. he didn’t think you even processed that moment or even realized what you were doing until—

“who are you?”

something you asked twenty minutes after he had been in your home.

“i’m eddie.”

“i think i know you.”

“well i hope so since we’ve been in school together since middle school before you graduated.”

“right,” you narrowed your brows, but didn’t say anything else, not knowing what to even make of him.

you knew eddie, but he was never someone you had ever talked to or had any interactions with. you didn’t care for him; you found him obnoxious and practically repulsing when you were still in school together—but right now, by the way he was looking at you—you didn’t mind him at all.

his expression was soft and full of sympathy, like he understood what was going through your mind and why you seemed so…bipolar in emotions.

“y/n, eddie’s here to talk.”

“why?”

“because what happened to you, is exactly what happened to him.”

you still had narrowed brows as you stared at him, not knowing what to say. there was a small proportion of recognition that struck you when you stared at eddie, not nearly enough for you to trust him, nor enough for you to spill your guts out to him about how your boyfriend was practically castrated right in front of your eyes.

“you’re afraid?”

you slowly nodded your head, eyes wide, not understanding the willingness that has suddenly taken over you, “yes.”

he nods and you feel the need to continue to explain yourself.

“i can’t get that image out of my head. god, i don’t even know if it was…”

“real?”

“yeah.”

he nods again.

“you said you think you’re dying, why?” he sat right across from you on your carpeted floor, now eyeing you carefully with the same cautiousness you had in your own pupils.

“because… the things that were happening to brandon before he was fucking possessed… are happening to me.”

“what do you mean,” he starred at you strangely now, his head slightly tipping, watching you carefully just as the rest of them did.

“the bloodied noses, the nightmares, the headaches, that noise…” you cringed as you spoke, almost shying away from saying more.

“what noise?” robin was leaned forward on her knees, her eyes wide with curiosity.

“a clock.”

it seemed right as you said it, the sound echoed through the room and the lights begun to flicker till there was no light at all and the only breathing body was you.

“you’re fucking kidding me,” your head lifted toward the hallway that opened up to your living room; exactly where the noise was coming from.

this had only happened once before; the first day you had come back from college while you were throwing up in your childhood bathroom. you couldn’t figure it out, you had never been sick before—not like that, but then suddenly your world turned dark and the sound of that damned clock was one of the only things you could hear.

you got to your feet slowly, continuing to stare into the dark as the sound echoed throughout your now empty home. the sound was jarring and something about it made you want to follow it like the last time. you were losing your mind, you had to get out of there.

you turned, only for your body to match right up against an unintelligible one. one much larger than your own.

your eyes went wide immediately, feeling a scream rip through your throat as fear set in fast and your head tipped to see such a haunting face you had never seen before.

“hello, y/n,” it looked like it smiled, examining your frightened state, taking pleasure in it, as you stared back in a paralyzed state. “your time is running thin,” it took a step forward, closer and closer. “you will soon be mine.”

you back peddle, fast, not thinking, not processing, but soon landing on your ass and back into the light where you sat in the same place before but with a pair of hands on your face, with voices yelling and screaming you back to conscious.

you were in shock, your limbs were numb and you could barely keep yourself up in a sitting position. you were breathing hard like you had been holding your breath for the past minute, practically dry heaving, feeling your stomach fold up into itself in terror.

“what happened?” steve’s face was the only thing your could see as his hands clasped your face hard, his nose practically touching yours as he stared at you wide-eyed, dipped in fear.

you stared back, feeling every nerve slowly come back to life within your body—drawing out into a painful process. your body begun to shake, tears flooding into the corners of your eyes as you couldn’t even begin to process the switch between realities.

“steve, get out of her face, she’s going to throw up!” robin was yanking at his shoulder despite his constant persistence, clinging to your body.

“are you okay?”

everyone stood around you, wide eyes, wide with fear, wide with concern.

“are you okay?”

“what happened?”

**

“i was here, and then i wasn’t, but it’s like nothing changed other than you all being gone,” you stood now, guiding them all through the process of your episode, now that you could finally process what had just happened. “it was that sound, that fucking clock sound, and i turned and it was something, like something you’d see out of a fucking movie, like the weird alien-monster things we’ve seen before. i don’t know—”

“vecna.”

“what?”

“she saw vecna,” dustin looks between everyone who all have seemed to agree with this consolation.

“will someone please translate what he just said?”

“vecna,” steve repeated, glancing up to you from the sudden heavy gloom laid upon him. “he’s the reason everyone’s been dying lately, you see him, you’re in an automatic death sentence… but you already knew that…”

you starred at him in disbelief, your eyes switching between each teen that sat on your couch, as if asking whether that was true or not, but they all avoided eye contact--which spoke louder than words.

“you’re fucking with me,” you scoffed, turning on your heal and beginning to pace. “of fucking course.”

“you don’t seemed so… terrified about this anymore,” max is quick to elbow lucas in the ribs who winces.

you ignore it, suddenly annoyed at the swift depressive mood change, “how do we kill this motherfucker?”

**

“you’re not giving up on me, are you steve?”

“of course not.”

the two of you stood on your back porch after steve had lightly pulled you by the elbow, recommending catching some fresh air.

you don’t believe his words. he seemed tired with almost the look of sadness in his eyes. this observation causes you to frown as you tip your head, slightly coming closer to steve to look at him better, “then why does it look like you’re the one dying and not me?”

he scoffs, “y/n.” he gets taller, straightening his posture from where he was previously leaned on your railing. he turns even more serious and it makes you frown. “why didn’t you tell me?”

“what difference would it have made?”

“we could have caught it earlier.”

“and be in the same position as we are in now?”

he doesn’t say anything, but still stares at you with a look that makes your chest tighten and your skin begin to flare up in heat.

and then, “i’m sorry about brandon.”

he wasn’t. he never liked him.

“i’m sorry you had to go through that,” he takes a step closer to you, his hand now clasping your arm. “we’re going to figure this out, i promise.”

“don’t promise me anything, stevie,” your hand softly caressed his cheek, giving him a thinned lip smile before walking inside, leaving him to himself outside.

navigation.

Hey, this is my first time doing an ask so could you please do steve harrington angst where he feels a lil distrust cause of how things ended with nancy with comfort at the end. Feel free to ignore if you're not up for it 🙃

Omgggg babes sorry this took longer than expected, I started a new school and got food poisoning lmao 👍

Anyways without further ado,

Steve Harrington x reader, slight angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, Steve thinks reader might be cheating or is unhappy, 1k words ♡ (hardly proofread, forgive me love)

You had to stay late for work to fix a mess your boss made, and in your haste to finish it you forgot to tell Steve. Sure, you haven't been dating long and sure, you don't live together, but lately he's been staying at your place to escape the big empty birdcage that is his parent's house, so maybe you should have told him.But you didn't, that's the thing. The sun has already set by the time you get home, your cheeks flushed from the cold as you quickly close the door to let as little heat out as possible.

"Steve? Are you here?" You call out, seeing the light from the kitchen on but no noise. Not the clink of the dishes being washed or the sound of something being stirred, no sizzling of food and no shuffling of feet to the pop music Steve likes. No noise and no answer.

"Stevie?" You call out once more. You have a feeling that he's here, the imaginary hook in your chest that pulls you closer to him feeling short. When you show up to the kitchen, there he is, standing in front of the counter and looking down at his cup of hot chocolate, little marshmallows disintegrated and no steam rising from the top, he must've been standing there for a while.

"Hey." He says softly, bringing the mug to his lips maybe for the first time, frowning at the cold as if he was completely powered down before you stepped into the room. He sets it back down to be forgotten until the mug needs to be washed, turning the burner back on that has the pot of milk on it.

"Sorry I got home late, my boss is an absolute child." You say as you lean up against the counter, watching as he stirs the milk in the pot and shakes the chocolate packet. "Oh no, it's fine. It's fine. You don't have to tell me everything." He says, the muscle in his jaw clearly clenched.

"Steve, you alright?" You ask, stepping just a little closer with your arms crossed loosely upon hearing the tone in his voice, firm and steady, as if he's controlling every word, every breath, every little movement. It's a little scary and concerning– but you've seen him like this before. He's just annoyed and doesn't want to be snarky with you. Before he can say that he's fine, you raise your eyebrows at him, daring him to say that he is because you know he's not. Daring him to say that he had a tough day because he already called you during your lunch break to tell you how good of a day he had.

"I just.. were you actually at work? Just tell me the truth." He asks you. The truth? Does he believe you're lying? Sure, you haven't been together for a super long time, but why would he think you were doing something else? You told him what happened– does he not trust you? You just can't help but wonder what goes through his mind in times like this.

"I was. I just couldn't text you because my boss won't stop acting like a child, I told you." You say. The hurt and confusion you feel must be visible on your facial features because he puts down the packet of chocolate power, turning to face you.

"I don't mean to offend you or anything but how am I supposed to know I can trust you? We haven't.. we haven't been dating long, I know– and you can call me crazy or paranoid or say all of this is bullshit but I.. just want to know. I want to make sure you're okay– I want to make sure we're okay. I don't want to be lied to." He explains, running a hand through his hair and pinching his nose once or twice, a clear sign he's holding everything back. You two haven't really... talked about past relationships, but you've heard things. Heard and seen things. All you wanted to do that night at Tina's party was hide in the bathroom until your friend came to pick you up, leading you to hear a conversation you definitely shouldn't have heard. The air feels dark and heavy– something you've never felt around Steve, who practically has sunlight coursing through his veins, making every room just a little brighter. But the sunlight is gone, his blood red instead of gold.

"Steve–" You start, but he stops you in your tracks. "Don't start like that." He says, looking as if you're about to break the worst news to him. You kind of did start like that too– a sort of softened tone in your voice as if you didn't want what you were about to say to hurt him. But you continue anyways.

"You're not crazy, or paranoid, or whatever else. You're just a little cautious. But I was at work, and I can call my boss right now if you need me to." You say, your phone open and held out to him.

Steve just.. blinks a couple times. But he shakes his head, pushing your hand away and pulling you close, his arms snaking around your waist as he buries his nose into the crook of your neck. You feel more than hear the apology, but you know it's being said.

And you know he means it.

Because Steve doesn't lie. He doesn't say things that he doesn't mean, if he tells you that he loves you then he loves you, no doubt about it. "I shouldn't have. I'm sorry– I... things never went right for me, and now that they are, it's scary. It's scary as hell. Because I don't know when it's going to stop, I don't.. I don't know when things will go wrong again. I just.. I love you. Too much, sometimes." He admits, lifting his head up a little with a humorless chuckle, brown eyes boring into your soul.

"And I don't ever want to let you go." He adds. He proves his point by squeezing you tighter, putting everything he has into this one squeeze as if someone is waiting just behind you to steal you away.

His skin shines golden once more, the room feeling warmer and brighter. Everything seems to feel less dull when you love him, doesn't it?

Just A Scratch

Eddie Munson x Reader/Steve Harrington x reader

Summary: one of Jason’s friends is picking on your boyfriend's friend Dustin. Dustin can't keep his mouth shut so ends up aggravating the basketball player more, meaning you have to intervene. One thing leads to another and you get hurt. The last person you expect to be there to help you is your ex-boyfriend Steve.

Content warning: arguments, broken nose, being hurt, a whole lot of angst, jealousy and language. Eddie and Steve really don’t like each-other

Word count: 2k

A/n: let me know if you want a part two I have ideas. I am dyslexic so if some of it doesn’t make sense I apologise

Not prove read

Part 2

You had decided to spend an hour after school in the library catching up on your work, since your boyfriend had distracted you every time you tried to study. So you decided it would be best to be completely alone and the library after school on a Wednesday seemed like the right place. You had gotten more work done in that hour than you had in the last couple of weeks.

Your hand started to cramp from all the writing so you knew it was probably a sign to leave. You walked outside, excited for the fresh air you were sure your skin needed. You were also excited to get home to get ready to see your boyfriend, Eddie. The only problem is as soon as you get outside you hear the mumbles of an argument. You knew it probably wasn’t your place to get involved, until you heard the voice of Dustin Henderson. He was becoming more and more like Eddie by the day. So you knew there was a good chance he was making whatever the situation was, worse for himself.

You walked over and spotted chase who was also a senior getting into the freshman’s face. “Can you at least have a mint before getting that close?” Dustin smirked. You'd know that smile anywhere it was Eddie’s signature. It was the face Eddie usually pulled before he ended up with a black eye. You pushed your way in between the two, surely he wouldn't hit you. “Don’t you think you should pick on someone your size?”. He pushes you out of the way to get back to the freshman, you were blocking. “it’s none of your business”.

Dustin scoffs at him, was he trying to make things worse for himself? Even you wanted to hit him in the head now, to knock some sense into him. “I can see you're starting early on your career as a wife beater”. Shit. Rage is all you can see in Chase’s eyes any hope of Deescalating the situation was gone. He raised his fist to hit Dustin. Instinct took over and you moved in the way, putting your hand up to stop the assault. But you were too late when you hear a crunch in your nose.

Blood pours from your nose but you don't notice, as you’re too enraged. The Jock stumbled back shocked at what he just did. “I'm sorry y/n I didn’t mean to hi-” you cut him off “but you meant to hit him so”. He didn't have a response just silence “ I suggest you leave him alone unless you want me to report you for assaulting me”. He nods awkwardly and shuffles away embarrassed. He felt like such an idiot he didn't mean to hurt you.

Dustin felt really bad, he didn't want you to get hurt because of him. Plus he could handle himself , Chase was nothing on the upside down he thought. “Shit y/n are you okay?” you turn around to glare at the boy. He glumped he had never seen you angry and he knew he was about to be on the receiving end of it. “Oh don’t worry about me, worry about your attitude. I get you th-”. Dustin's eyes widen upon the sight of your face. Your nose didn't look right. How much blood was pouring out didn't look right. “Y/n-”.

Too annoyed you didn't even feel the pain of your nose or feel the blood dripping from your nose. “I’m not finished. I know Eddie seems cool, but even for him there are consequences. Plus Chase is twice your size, how we're you going to fight him?”. You wait for an answer, Dustin is too stunned to speak, what should he do? You rub your hands over your face in annoyance. Ow. That didn't feel right. You had never felt pain like it. You looked at your hand to see it painted with red blood. The sight makes your knees weak and you fall to the ground.

“Omg y/n!” Dustin lowers to your level. You felt tears being to fill your waterline, he couldn't see you cry. You needed to get him away even for a minute, you didn't want him to blame himself. “I’m fine, can you just get me some water please,” you say weakly. He quickly scurried away wanting to do anything to make this right.

A little while after you, you’re sat on bench outside of school. You haven't been able to move as you still feel too dizzy. Your nose was still bleeding but it was a lot slower than before. Your ex-boyfriend pulled up to get Dustin. “I can get Steve to check it. He's good at things like this”. You shake your head biting your lip from the pain this causes. Dustin nods and walks over to Steve’s car getting in. You turn away from the scene so Steve doesn't see you or your nose.

Steve is about to set off when Dustin stops him. “What did you forget this time?” Steve talks to the boy like he is his father. “They are gonna hate me for this but they are already mad so, y/n-”. As soon as your name is mentioned, Steve gets worried. He still cared for you a lot. He just wishes he treated you better when you were together. Then he wouldn't have lost the best thing to happen to him. Without needing to hear anything more, Steve goes over to the bench and taps on your shoulder. Not knowing it's him, you turn around. The last person you wanted to see right now was right in front of you. You try to turn your face but he holds it in place gently but firmly examining it, being careful to avoid your nose.

He honestly felt like he could cry, he had seen hurt yourself from being clumsy, but it was never anything this bad. “ It's just a scratch”. Steve shakes his head. “Don't do that, you're hurt. Stop acting like it's a chore for people to look after you”. Tears pour from your eyes. He doesn't know if he should, especially since you hadn't talked to each other since the break up a few months ago but he had to hug you. You melted into the hug, you needed this. You missed this. After a few moments, Steve broke the hug and got up holding out his hand to you. “I'm gonna drop Dustin off, then we are going to the hospital. You can tell me all about what happened on the way”.

The wait in the emergency room took hours which left you with lots of time to catch up. You missed having Steve in your life. You need a friend like him. You had also told him what happened with Chase which he was really angry about, but tried to keep calm while in the hospital so he didn't get kicked out and could stay with you. It didn’t stop him from complaining to you about Dustin’s new found attitude though “ the kids lucky he had you, I don’t know where he gets that attitude from”. You try to laugh but it hurts too much “I do”. Steve laughs a little too shaking him head “yeah so do I”.

A few hours later Steve was dropping you off at your door. “Thank you” you smile at him. “You don't need to thank me, I'm glad we went. I'm gonna kill Chase for breaking your nose though.” you shook your head a little, pouting at him. “Please don't, you'll adult now, it's an assault on a minor, even if he does deserve it. I don't want you behind a cell”. How could he say no to you? So he agreed, even if all he wanted to do was round-house Chase in the face. “Why will you miss me too much?” he pulled his signature Harrington smile, he knew he shouldn’t but he could help flirt with you. Even a little. “Whatever you need to tell yourself to sleep a night.” You playfully hit his arm. He blushed a little. He missed this, he missed you. “I'm gonna get going so you can rest, remember to ice and take the painkillers. Like the doctors said the better you take care of it the less likely you are to need surgery”.

He turns around to leave trying to ignore any butterflies that were forming. The longer he looked at you, the harder it was to remember that you weren’t his anymore. You stop him leaving by holding onto his arm. God he hopes you can’t feel the goosebumps. “I know you two don’t talk but if you happen to run into Eddie please don’t tell him” there it was. Munson was your boyfriend now, despite how much Steve wishes he could have you back. “I think the nose will give it away”. You nodded your head “I know but I'll think of a lie. If he finds out Chase did it. He’ll get in a fight and end up looking a lot worse than me.” Steve agreed not like there was much chance of seeing Eddie, they avoided each other like the plague. But if agreeing made you happy he would. He also relished in the fact that he would know something about you Eddie wouldn't. This would be your little secret. “I promise, now rest. I'll call tomorrow to check on the patient”.

You were supposed to be at Eddie’s at 7 pm but now it was 10 pm, and he was beyond worried. He had called your house, receiving no one had answered, so to stop the terrible paranoid thoughts in his head, he drove over. His van pulled to a stretching halt. He looked out of his window to see your ex-boyfriend walking away from your house. What the hell was he doing? He had lost you So he had no right to be around you after breaking your heart. He hated how forgiven you could be. He quickly got out of the car storming over to Steve ready to confront him.

“Surely that can't be Steve Harrington leaving my y/n’s house”. Steve smirked “looks like it to me”. if looks could kill Steve would be dead. But that's all it was a glare. He moved closer to Steve, he wanted to hit him. He couldn't though because he knew you would hate it if he hurt Steve but someone had to wipe that smug look off his face. “Care to explain why you're here”.

Steve's face didn’t change “well someone had to be there for them.” Eddie clenched his fists “you lost that right a while ago. I don't know what this act is but you can drop it. They aren't gonna fuck you”. Steve laughed, why did you have to go for him? Steve couldn't understand what you saw in Munson. “I already have...Many times” he emphasized the word ‘Many’. He gets in Eddie’s face. How dare he say anything about Steve wanting to fuck you, when that's what Eddie did when you were with Steve. He waited till you were at your lowest and slithered in. That had always been how Steve saw it and it made him hate Eddie more. “I can be their friend without wanting to fuck them, unlike some people.” he barged passed Eddie. “I wouldn't knock she looked like she was pretty tired out”

Eddie turned around and got into Steve’s face holding onto his collar “wanna go Harrington?”. He smirked again, Eddie couldn't wait to wipe that look off his face with his fist. “tonight made me pretty tired too so I'll have to rain check”. Steve slipped out of Eddie’s grip to leave in his car. Eddie was stunned. Surely you two hadn't done anything. It would explain why you hadn't answered the phone or met for your date. No. His thoughts were getting the better of him, he might not trust Steve but he trusts you.

Something wasn't right but with the foul mood Harrington had put him in, he decided not to find out tonight. Seeing you now would only cause an argument so he got back into his van. Slamming his head into the steering wheel in frustration.

Just a scratch (part 2)

Eddie Munson x Reader/Steve Harrington x reader

Summary: one of Jason's friends is picking on your boyfriend's friend Dustin. Dustin can't keep his mouth shut so ends up aggravating the basketball player more, meaning you have to intervene. One thing leads to another and you get hurt. The last person you expect to be there to help you is your ex-boyfriend Steve.

Read part 1 here

Content warning: arguments, broken nose, being hurt, a whole lot of angst, jealousy and language. Eddie and Steve really don't like each-other. Use of y/n

Word count: 2k

A/n: I’m sorry I’ve left it on a cliffhanger, do you think I should make another part? Let me know who you think y/n should be with. I’m dyslexic so if any of this doesn’t make sense I apologise.

Not prove read

You couldn’t face school today. Surely having a broken nose was enough grounds for you to take the day off. You missed Eddie though and all you wanted to do was call him. But you would have to wait, as he had school and band practice afterwards. It was also another reason you were avoiding school you still hadn’t thought of a lie yet, so you couldn’t see him.

Around 4 pm there’s was a knock on the door. You peer out of the curtains, as subtly as you can and see a red BMW. You smile, this could only belong to one person. You run to the door in excitement, you had been bored talking to yourself all day. “Wow how lucky am I? The doctor makes house calls”. He smiles, putting on a deeper voice to play up to the character. “Only for my very special patients.” You smirk, “I think you could get in trouble for having favourites”. You were definitely flirting even if you didn’t mean to. He put his hand out for you to shake “it will be our secret”. You push his hand away “It will cost you”. He scratches his head. “How about a pizza on me?” You suddenly shake his hand very rapidly. “You drive a hard bargAin” the boy's voice suddenly breaks in the middle of his impression making you burst out laughing. “Ow… haha.. ow”. You both laugh despite how much it hurts your nose. “Stop or you’ll pop a stitch,” he says through a chuckle. He wished you didn’t have to stop, there was no greater sound than hearing your laugh.

“So are you gonna come in? Or are you gonna attempt to order the pizza by yelling?” You joke. God, he had missed you. “Yeah yeah, I’ll come in but only because I’m hungry.” You put your hand on your heart pretending to be hurt. “ I thought you cared about me”. Don’t say it, Steve, don’t say I- “I never stopped caring about you”. Surely he wasn’t flirting, he was just being nice. The best thing to do was to ignore it.

Eddie had also decided to take the day off school, he knew he shouldn’t, especially if he wanted to graduate this time round. But his mood was still far too sour after the events of last night. He must have done at least 50 laps pacing around his small trailer. If his uncle was there he might have been able to talk his nephew down and make him see sense. But he had been alone with his thoughts all day and that had made him worse.

He waited until he knew you’d be done with school, he even gave you a little extra time in case you wanted to shower. Then he rang, it rang longer than it usually would. Well, that’s how it felt in his head the longer it rang the quicker his heart beats. Finally, he hears your voice on the other end “hello”. Upon hearing your voice he wants to forget about why he’s mad. “Hi, darling”. Maybe he was more annoyed because he missed you he thought. “Eddie I’ve missed you”. He couldn’t help the smile that formed on his face “you too baby”. He wasn’t sure he heard it at first but he could hear another person's voice from the other end of the call. He assumed it was your mom that was until it got louder. “Should I put these in the kitchen”? The rage was back, why was Steve Harrington in your house again?

You nod at Steve. Trying to keep your full attention on your boyfriend “Is that Harrington?”. You could tell he was annoyed, the two boys had never got along. You sighed “Yeah-“ the phone hung up. Shit, he really was pissed? He had never hung up on you before, even when you did argue. But It’s not like you were doing anything wrong, you could have friends who were boys. He was friends with Chrissy who he used to have a crush on and you never said anything.

He couldn’t believe you, he was beyond annoyed. How could he be so stupid? You never wanted him, he was just a rebound until you could get back with Harrington. It was so clear now. In a rage, he started packing all of your things in his trailer, your toothbrush, shoes, nail varnish, t-shirts anything he could find. Tears poured out of his eyes that he didn’t wipe too focused on needing to get rid of any trace of you. He knew the longer it took the harder it would become.

He speeded over to yours, it was a good job there weren’t any cops around otherwise he would have been taken to the station. He parked terribly outside of your house not caring how bad it was. The noise alerted you and Steve. Steve being closest, peeked outside the window. “It’s Eddie”. You sigh wanting to look anywhere but outside“does he look pissed?”. Steve nods. You get up to get the door, anxiety filling your body. You were usually so excited to see your boyfriend this was a new feeling. Steve stopped you. “he will be more pissed if he sees your face.”

You agree to let Steve answer the door despite how much you wanted to see your boyfriend. You were too anxious too move anymore so you sat back down . Steve straighten his back and walked over to the door before Eddie even knocked. “Munson you’re back”. Eddie got in Steve’s face, “get out of my way Harrington”. He shoved past Steve throwing him off balance. If he had to do this, he was going to do it face to face, not with the person you had chosen over him. He walked over to where you were sitting. You couldn’t look at him “Y/n don’t you dare get your lap dog to do your dirty work”. He grabbed your face so you were looking at him. “At least look-“ he dropped the box as soon as he saw your nose. Getting on his knees, holding onto your face. “Baby what happened?”

You try to move your face away from his grip, “I’m okay” you mumble. He shakes his head tears in his eyes. He moves your face so he can get a proper look at it. “Careful Munson” the other boy says. Your boyfriend doesn’t look away from you. “Don’t tell me what to do”. You look into his eyes pleading “please be nice”. He rolls his eyes “thanks for your help Harrington but you can go now”. He says sarcasm dripping off every word. Steve ignores Eddie “is that what you want y/n?”

You had never been good at confrontation and if you were going to have to tell Eddie what happened you needed someone to help hold him back. You shake your head. Eddie’s eyes widen. “Are you serious?”. You nod “I just think it’s best to have Steve here while I talk about what happened”. Eddie wants to laugh, but he was annoyed “are you scared of me or something?” You go to reach for his hands but he pulls them away from you. “of course not, it’s just I know what you’re like”. What the hell was that supposed to mean? “What like my dad? Flying off the handle at the smallest things”. You shake your head “Eddie that’s not what I mean”.

He stands up throwing up his hands in frustration “what is it supposed to mean then?!” You didn’t mean to upset him. He was sensitive you knew that, if you could just explain to him, he’d understand. But you couldn’t find the right words. Which made you start to stumble on them not wanting to hurt his feelings anymore “I..I” he mocks you “I.. I what y/n!”. Steve was getting annoyed how dare he mock you. You were too perfect to be mocked. He knew he shouldn’t overstep but this was getting too much for him to watch “calm down Munson” he warned. Eddie slowly claps “what a hero you have here y/n. Too bad he wasn’t there to help you with your nose though”. Your eyesight begins to blur with the tears coating them. Why was he being so mean?

“I don’t know what y/n sees in you” Steve mumbles. Eddie turned to the boy walking towards him. “What was that?”. Steve coughs like he is clearing his throat and speaks again louder this time “I said I don’t know what y/n sees in you”. Eddie pushes him, Steve pushes back, they keep going back and forth with this getting more aggressive. You quickly stand up getting in between the two. “Stop it” you look at both of the boys “both of you.” It doesn’t stop them though as you are having to put your hands on each of their chests to keep them away from each other. There is a tap of the door pulling you away from the boys. “Please don’t kill each other at least for 2 minutes”.

You open the door, shit it was Chase.This boy had just walked into his doom. You quickly pushed him outside, shutting the door behind you hoping the boys don’t see who it was. He passed a bouquet over to you. “I’m really sorry y/n, are you okay?” You sighed and nodded. He looked genuine, so even after he broke your nose you couldn’t be mad at him. You found it hard not to see the best in people. Eddie told you that was one of your worst qualities. He said you forgave people who didn’t deserve it. “Thank you but you should leave”.

The boys stop their dispute as soon as the door shut. “Who the hell is at the door?” Eddie asked. Steve looked outside the window “is he serious right now?”. Eddie’s curiosity was getting the best of him so he looked too. He saw chase giving you flowers, it looked like he was asking you out. “Fuck no, who does he think he is asking my y/n out”. Eddie was about to storm outside when Steve put a hand on his chest. “It’s not what it looks like”. Eddie shoved Steve’s hand off, “what should it look like?”. Steve sighed “I’m not supposed to tell you” Eddie grabbed his collar “tell me before I break your face and then his”. Steve tried to wiggle out of his grasp but the hold was too tight. “He meant to hit Dustin, y/n got in the way-“ Eddie let go, he had heard enough. He stormed out of the house.

“You think flower’s are gonna make up for what you’ve done”. You turned around and held your boyfriend’s arm to stop him from getting closer. “Don’t” you plead to him He could see the fear in your eyes. He didn’t want to be like his dad. “I’ll give you three seconds and then you’re gone, one”. Chase looked at you “I’m sorry”. Eddie continued counting “two”. Chase got into his car and left. “Thank you” you weakly smiled at him. “You should have told me, darling”. You looked down at the floor not wanting to see his beautiful brown eyes. Knowing you would give in if you did. “how could I? When I saw how you reacted when Steve was just trying to be a friend.” Eddie groaned “I don’t trust him that’s why.” You looked up at him tears filling your eyes again “but you should trust me”.

This was the first time Eddie had properly looked at you today, seeing the hurt on your face, the tears, the nose, the bruising. It broke him. You were having a bad week, and he was adding to it . “I’m sorry” he tried to pull you into a hug but you pushed away “I think you should go.” He was speechless, he had messed up. Steve came out of the house “y/n I’m sorry I had to tell him”. You look over to him “I think you should go too.” You walk past them both disappearing back into the house. They had both messed up. They looked like they were about to say something to each other but nothing came out.

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It Can't All Be Bullshit

Read part 2 here

Eddie Munson x fem Reader x Steve Harrington (unfortunately no steddie in this)

Summary: pinning after your best friend can be hard, especially when he doesn’t seem to like you back. You were trying to get over a crush the last thing you needed was another.

AN: this and the next chapter have been in my drafts for far too long so I thought I'd post them (not the best piece of writing but I like the story) I have tried to prove read it but I have dyslexia so sorry for any mistakes

Warnings: Angst, use of Y/n, mention of break ups, miscommunication, drug and alcohol use, swearing

Word count: about 2000 words

Halloween night 1985

Of all the people you had to have a crush on, why did it have to be your annoying, oblivious dork of a best friend? You knew you needed to get over it, and even if there ever was a chance of being with him, you feared you’d lose him. You weren’t what Eddie wanted in a girl, and you knew that. You were surprised he kept you around now with how much you nagged at him. It’s not like it was all the time, but someone had to look out for that boy, especially if he wasn’t going to do it for himself.

Eddie interrupted your plans for a Halloween movie night, which you had planned out for a month, costumes included. If anyone were to look at you together, they would assume you were a couple; most people did. You were dressed as Jack and Wendy Torrance from the shinning. He even let you put makeup on him to give him the frostbite effect. So when he suddenly announced he had to go to Tina’s party to deal, you were annoyed. You tried not to nag, even though you hated the sound of your voice at this point. Plus, he promised it would only be an hour tops, and then you could get takeout with some of his earnings so that you couldn’t complain, especially when he looked at you with those eyes. You could never say no.

You weren’t the biggest fan of drugs or him dealing them; you knew he was better than that life. But you understood how hard things were on him and his uncle, so as long as it wasn’t forever, it wasn’t really bad drugs, you let it be. You never liked to be around when he dealt, though. Something about watching it made you feel weird. You could never explain why. Eddie was kind, though, and he never did anything in front of you. He didn’t even smoke weed, especially after that one time when he got super paranoid and scared you. You weren’t part of that life. You didn’t do drugs, you didn’t drink, and you didn’t party. It’s not that you were boring. It was just never you. Hey, maybe you were boring, but at least you didn't need drugs to enjoy yourself. You liked to be in control.

You are currently leaning against the countertop in the kitchen, sticking out like a sore thumb with a Coke in your hand. You look at the clock, he’s 30 minutes late. You were trying to turn a new leaf, so you were trying to be understanding, even if his time-wasting was cutting into your Halloween plans. You couldn’t take your eyes off the clock, not like there were other things to watch at this party: teenagers making out, getting too drunk or being sick. The clock seemed more appealing. When it hit the 2-hour mark, you started worrying, so you looked for him. What you didn’t expect to find was him in the garden with a blunt in his hand and his other hand on a blonde’s thigh.

The voice in your head telling you not to nag was now becoming quieter with how annoyed you were. He ditched you, and he was smoking, which showed he had no intention of continuing your plans. He just wanted to get high and laid. “Eddie!” you said loud and stern enough for him to hear you, but too high he was in his bubble with his girl for the night. “Edward Munson!” you said louder; he only ever hears that name when in trouble, so subconsciously, he straightened his back and tried to hide the blunt, failing miserably. He turned around to face you, he waved “Hi darling”. You glared at him. “Are you high, darling?” a mocking tone coming from your voice, using his usual pet name for you against him.

He pitched his fingers together “a little”. Eddie always thought you looked cute when you were mad; he usually tried to get you a little angry so he could see that face. Usually, though, he could hide his smile and keep a straight face since he was sober. But now, when he tried to keep a straight face, he couldn’t; even more irritating for you, he couldn't stop giggling, making the girl to his right giggle, too. “If you wanted to go party instead, you should have told me; you didn’t need to lie”. If Eddie were sober, he would see how hurt you were, but in his mind, this was a joke, “you don’t have to stay. You can go home and watch the films. Tell me what happens”. You freeze; this is why you hated High Eddie; he never realised how hurtful he came across. How selfish he became. And when he finally sobers up enough to realise you must forgive him because he ‘wasn’t in his right mind’. It’s a frustrating cycle, which is why he stopped smoking in front of you. Except for now, apparently. That’s probably why he ditched you so that you wouldn’t find out.

Hurtful words were on your tongue, but you were in your right mind, so you could never say them. You knew you wouldn’t mean them. You were just hurt, so you stormed off straight out the front door, but when you made it to the front porch, it was like you were stuck in glue. You couldn’t leave whether he was being a dick or not. He was still your best friend, and you need to ensure he was safe. He shouldn’t drive high, and knowing him, he would try. So you waited. You couldn’t go back into the hell hole that was Tina’s Halloween party, so you waited on a porch swing. The air was bitter tonight, so you were glad your costume provided a jumper, not that it looked like a costume anymore without a partner to go with it.

Your eyes were drifting shut with how tired and bored you were, that was until you heard a huge slam come from beside you, making you flinch. You weren’t the only one having a terrible time at this party; Steve was having an even worse one. “You got cigarettes?”. He didn’t look at you, so you didn’t realise he was talking to you. That was until you felt his glare burning into you. You knew that look wasn’t meant for you, but it still made you feel uncomfortable. Maybe it was due to the shots you could tell he had taken from the blue tint to his lips, or perhaps he had gotten into a fight. But this look wasn’t meant for you, but it didn't make it any less scary when you were in his firing line. “Huh?”. With the way he spoke to you next, you could have sworn you had done something to hurt his feelings. “Are you deaf I said do you have any smokes?” he spoke slowly like you were a dumb child. He tutted at you and turned away from you “bullshit”. He kept repeating like a madman.

Jesus, was he that addicted to nicotine, you thought. Even if he did make you feel a little uncomfortable, especially since you knew he was a jock, and even though they didn’t necessarily pick on you because, in their words, “you were a girl,” they bullied your friends so you knew how bad they could be. But even for a jock, this was dramatic “fucking hell, I’m sorry, I don’t have any” you said a little sarcastically. He stopped his repetition and looked over his shoulder at you. “What?” He said with anger still laced in his voice, like you did anything to deserve his rage. You didn’t know why you were wasting your breath on him, but Eddie had pissed you off, and you needed to get the annoyance out somehow. “Are you deaf? I said I’m sorry, I don’t have any”.

He thought he knew girls well, but after tonight, he wasn’t sure, and he didn’t want to figure out what was wrong with you either. He couldn’t be bothered by the grief. “Fuck off”. You couldn’t tell if his words were in reaction to what you said or if he meant it. That was until he repeated it, and you saw the look on his face, and the tears in his eyes that he didn’t realise were there. You didn’t know what was happening with him, but it was not your place to sort it. You were making it worse.

So you went back into the party, to look for two people, firstly Tommy Hagan everyone knew he was Harrington’s best friend, so even if you didn’t like Tommy you couldn’t leave someone when they were like that. It would only make you as bad as them. You found him around the beer pong table. You lightly tapped his shoulder as you couldn’t deal with another boy's wrath tonight. He turned around, looking you up and down, smirking. “What are you supposed to be a virgin?” You rolled your eyes. You knew you could think of a comeback and put him in his place, but now wasn’t the time; you needed to get him outside, and you didn’t want to announce that his friend, the king of Hawkin High, was crying on the lawn in front of everyone. You weren't cruel. “Can you just come outside with me?” The room erupted into “oh”, as if you were suggesting something sexual. “Wait, was I right about the virgin thing? Is the freak not giving you any? Do you want a real man instead?” He said, getting closer to you. He smelt of beer and body odour, but you let him closer so you could whisper in his ear. “Your boy is outside, and something’s happened. I’d go and sort it if I was you”. He looked at you confused and nodded. He walked out, but not before smacking you on the ass. “I’ll see you later, darling?”. God, he was the most enormous prick. You couldn’t hold your tongue anymore. “Is that with your girlfriend or alone?”.

Eddie came sauntering alone into the room after hearing your voice, “I hope you’re not starting fights”, he said, putting his arm around your shoulder out of comfort. You ignored his question, not wanting to get into it now. “You ready to go?” You looked at him and weakly smiled. Eddie couldn’t tell, though he was still high as a kite, just in the mellow stage, so all he could see was you smiling. You took the keys out of his pocket and led him to the van. On your way out, you walked past Tommy and Steve on the porch swing. Steve’s leg bounced. “She said we were bullshit”, he kept repeating; you were glad Eddie wasn’t sober enough to hear it. Otherwise, he would definitely use it against him. Everything about his mood towards you started to make sense. He and Nancy had clearly broken up. So you gave him a smile and a nod of acknowledgement as you left, which he only glared at. You didn't mind, though you were just glad he wasn’t alone, even if that meant being with Tommy.

You drove Eddie home, struggling to get his dead weight onto the bed and to get his shoes off. You were about to leave for your car outside when Eddie's hand grabbed for yours. “Stay”. This used to be one of the only things you liked about him being high, the cuddles and needing attention. However, right now, this was probably the worst thing for your heart when you were trying to get over him, but when you looked at his face, how could you say no if that made him happy, even if it would end up hurting you.

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It can’t all be bullshit Part 2

Read part 1 here

Eddie Munson x fem Reader x Steve Harrington (unfortunately no Steddie in this)

Summary: pinning after your best friend can be hard, especially when he doesn’t like you back. You were trying to get over a crush the last thing you needed was another.

AN: this is all I've written for the story, so I won't be as fast updating. Also, I'm sorry I write a lot for female-presenting readers it's just I find it easier to write it like that, especially with my dyslexia. However, if you guys want I can start reuploading the story with non-gender descriptions just might take it longer to edit it.

Warnings: Angst, use of Y/n, mention of break ups, miscommunication, sexual themes but no smut readers discretion is advised. Drug and alcohol use, and swearing.

word count 3.7kish

Monday morning came around quickly, which you were glad about. The sooner you could get away from that awful weekend, the better. Eddie hadn’t remembered anything from that night, or if he did, he didn't mention it. You were also glad that you didn’t want another argument, and you definitely didn’t want details on his love life. Not that you hadn’t thought about it, your brain was too cruel to not make you dwell on it, you also thought about Harrington was he okay? Not that you cared about him of course just one human looking out for another. If you happen to be looking around to see if he made it to school that would be out of curiosity not because you cared. Thankfully his locker was near to yours so you would eventually see how he was, to be honest with how the gossip spreads in this school you would hear about it eventually if the king and queen of Hawkins really had broken up. 

I don't hear anything about it until a week later at lunch. You were a little late as you had been stuck talking to your English teacher, Miss Plant, and you felt too rude to leave despite the rumbling in your stomach. As soon as you got to the table, a conversation began. “Do you reckon his head hurt?” Eddie joked. “Whose head?” you said while sitting in your seat beside Eddie. “The king when he fell from his throne”. You were beyond confused. Were they talking about a new campaign? You couldn't remember a king in your current D&D campaign. Maybe you had been too busy dazing at your leader at the meetings to notice if there was a new character. You didn't want to feel stupid, so you nodded like you understood. It wasn't until the conversation continued and you heard the mention of Nancy Wheeler you understood. You knew Eddie and Steve didn't like each other, but some of his words seemed too harsh. You saw what Harringtons' wrath could be like, and you didn't want Eddie on the receiving end. You picked at your peas, not daring to look up, and you knew how they would all tease you about nagging again. “Maybe we shouldn't talk about this”. Eddie raised his eyebrow, stopping his rant. “Why are you scared?” he challenged. You shrugged back.

Everyone was surprised. You hadn't nagged, you hadn't come back at him, you had stayed remarkably calm. Eddie wanted to see how long it would take you to snap, but he didn't have a chance when Chris, taking the hint, changed the subject. “So when’s the date, Eddie?” Not realising this would be the thing to make you snap. Since when did he have a date? Indeed it wasn't with what's her face from the party? You thought he didn't remember anything from that party, and if he did, why hadn't he apologised to you yet? “Well, she wanted to come over on Thursday, but I don't know” he looked at you to gauge a reaction; that was your weekly bowling night. Don't shout. It's okay. It's only the night you look forward to most, and you don't have much to look forward to. It doesn't matter. Well, maybe it does, but not to him anymore. “Have fun” you say standing to leave the table, dumping the food on your tray. Any hunger you had felt had gone and was replaced with nausea.

You needed somewhere to hide because you weren’t going to the next period. You needed someone to cry or scream or both. So you disappeared to Eddie’s spot in the woods. You hold onto yourself for warmth, looking down, trying to be careful not to trip on the twigs hidden in the mud. You finally make it to the table without an accident when you see out of the corner of your eye a guy. You pray it's not Eddie or someone here for a deal. It was the last thing you needed. You weren't sure if you would keep your cool this time round, especially with the stupid tears that kept lining your eyes.

“I didn't think anyone else would be here”, he spoke. It wasn't Eddie, but it was someone you also didn't want to bump into. You hoped after that night you would never have to come face to face with Harrington again. “Sorry, I can go,”you say, hoping to make a swift exit. “No, it's fine, I don't own the woods”.

There is an awkward silence. You debated getting up to leave, but you were stuck there frozen. “Looks like I’m not the only one having a shit day.” You don’t dare look up. Yeah, you were having a bad day, but it didn’t feel right to compare it to a breakup. “Mine nothing compare to yours”. You look up quickly. You didn’t mean it to sound that way. “No, I meant I’m fine. I’m sorry about what happened”. God, did you sound as dumb as you thought? “So I guess everyone knows now”. You shake your head “just because I know doesn’t mean everyone knows”.

He weakly chuckles, but there is no humour behind it: “It kind of does. It’s made its way down to the bottom of the food chain”. Steve’s eyes widened. Shit, he didn’t mean to sound like that. “No offence”. He couldn’t help being how he was. Having to put up an act for so long makes it hard to realise when he was being a dick. “None taken”. You shrug. You were used to the name-calling by jocks, so his words felt like nothing. “So what happened to you?” You twiddle with the ring Eddie gave you on a chain. “Don’t worry about me”. Steve smiles. “It’d be nice to worry about something else for a change. So is it a guy?” You laugh at him. “Do you think all girl's problems revolve around a guy?”. He nods.” Well, that is very guy-like of you, but yeah, you’re right. This time, it’s a guy.” Steve’s face lights up with a smirk. “I knew it! So what happened.” You go to speak but look up, realising it is not a friend you are talking to. It’s a popular kid. Even worse than that, it’s the king of Hawkins high. “Just typical guy stuff.”

Steve took the hint you didn’t want to get into it, so they changed the subject. “I know you don’t owe me anything, but Can you not tell anyone I was here? If Principal Coleman finds out I cut, I’m dead” You almost wanted to laugh; the Principal would find out, but looking at his face, you knew he was deadly serious. “who would I tell?” He shook his shoulders. “I don’t know”. You smiled. “Exactly. I’m gonna have to start charging you for all the secrets I keep”. He looked utterly lost. “Huh?”

Eddie sauntered over, his metal lunch box in hand. He could only see Harrington and the back of a girl’s head. So he didn’t know who it was. “My spots are popular today. I’ve even got King Steve, and I assume his new plaything here.” You turn around to face him. Now was not the time for his antics. “Leave it, Eddie” you sneered. The boy’s eyes widened, and he shook his head. “Absolutely not” he grabbed your arm and pulled you out of the woods away from Steve.

After many tries, you finally got out of Eddie’s grasp. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”. The boy rolled his eyes, “saving you”. You repeated his facial expression, “I didn’t need saving”. He tutted and slung his arm around you. “You were about to be Harrington’s next prey; trust me, you needed saving.” You pushed him off. “We were just talking”. Eddie looked at you like he was telling off a child, not a friend and definitely not someone he fancied “That’s how it starts”. You hated that he treated you like you didn’t know how the world worked. “I don’t see why you care”. He shook his head. “I’m your best friend, of course I care”. There it was, the famous last words of any crush. You were officially friend-zoned, and you would never get out of that. You felt deflated, so you just nodded and followed him to his van and then trailer.

A month later you were going to another party this time it was your idea. Getting over this crush had been more challenging than you had planned, so you decided to do something the opposite of what you usually would. Tonight, you would act like all the other teenagers and drink till you forget. Or find someone to help you forget. When you told Eddie you were going, he insisted he took you despite your protests. How are you supposed to get over someone when he doesn't leave you alone? You had bought an outfit for tonight because your usual outfit of jeans and a tee didn’t feel fitting. So you bought a red tight spaghetti strap dress, you thought about wearing heels you put them on, but as soon as you wobbly stood up like Bambi on ice, you realised it wasn't the best idea, so you put on your black trusty Converse. It's nice to have familiarity and not feel like Bambi on ice when trying to catch someone up. You hear several impatient beeps outside; you would think you had made him wait for hours when he had only just arrived 30 minutes late, of course. Life is always on Eddie’s schedule. You just wanted to get to the party and out of his sight, so you grabbed your bag put on a layer of lipgloss and ran outside to Eddie’s van.

He had the window down. He looked at your outfit and shook his head. “You’re gonna freeze”. You were sick of his new habit of babying you; was this what you sounded like to him? Was this just him mocking you? The girl from the last party poked her head out. “I think you look hot. I’m Sasha (sorry if this is your name she is nice though) by the way”. You nod. “Y/n”, he brought her, of course he brought her. She was nice. Why did she have to be nice? It's easier to dislike someone when they are a bitch, not a beautiful soul like hers. You were even more jealous now you wish you could be more like her than you. You got into the back of the van as Eddie drove (over the speed limit) to the party. Sasha was super friendly along the way and kept asking you questions to get to know Eddie’s best friend more. The boy stayed quiet, in thought. He was struggling to keep his eyes on the road as he kept looking at you through the rearview mirror in disbelief. 

When you finally got to the party, you found your way to the punch bowl, the pair not leaving your side. You picked up a red cup, filling it with the content of the bowl, whenever that may be. Before you could even put it to your lips. Eddie took the cup from your hands, pouring it back into the bowl, Tutting at you. “Are you okay tonight? You’re acting weird”. God, you were sick of his stupid face and stupid comments, but then it struck you this was your way out from the couple, from him. “You know I’m feeling a little weird. I’m gonna go to the toilet… it’s probably because of my period”. It was a lie, but you knew it would stop him from following you.

You went up the stairs and poked your head into a room, hoping it would be the bathroom. Unfortunately for you, it wasn’t; Steve Harrington sat on a bed, his leg tapping anxiously and anxiously. why did you two seem to have a universal magnet. “Sorry”. He looked up at you. You went to leave but were stopped by his voice calling, “Wait, you’re the girl who ditched me”.

“The girl?” You repeated him. “I have a name. It’s y/n, and I wouldn’t exactly call it ditched.” He laughed, getting up and shutting the door behind you. “What would you call it? I know it’s not your fault, though, was your boyfriend jealous?”. You glare at the thought, “he’s not my boyfriend”. He laughs. “Does he know that?” You turn to leave. “I’m not in the mood for whatever this is”. He holds your hand not too tightly, so if you want to go, you can, bringing you to the bed to sit down. You are stocked by yourself that you don't push him away, but the gentleness of this action makes your heart flutter. Maybe Steve Harrington could help you forget. “So he’s the one that made you cry”. Maybe not. You put your hands on your face, embarrassed “Is it that obvious?”. He pulls your hands away from your face, shaking his head. “He’s an idiot if he doesn’t see how beautiful you are”. You want to smile at his words, but they make you cringe. “Is this how you get all the girls?” He sighs. God, he had just been broken up with; maybe it was too soon to mention girls. “I’m sor-“ he puts a finger to your lip. “You apologise far too much”. You nod. “I just don’t want you to bite my head off again”, you mumble, fiddling with the end of your dress.

“When did I do that?” He had no clue what you were talking about, so why did you even mention it? “It doesn’t matter” you keep your eyes down. He uses his hand to lift your chin so you’re looking at him. “When did I do that?” He says as genuinely as he can. He was trying to be better, a more likeable guy, and if he wanted to do that, he needed to right his wrongs. “It wasn’t your fault; it probably just seems worse in my head because I wasn’t enjoying myself…and Eddie was being a dick and-“ he puts his hand on yours to calm you. “It was Halloween; I think you and Nancy had just had an argument. I guess you needed someone to take your rage out on, and I just happened to be there”. He runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head. Annoyed at himself, he couldn’t look at you. “It’s fine; I swear it wasn’t that bad. Otherwise, I wouldn't be sitting here. You just told me to fuck off and said bullshit a lot”. He looks over at you. “So you know what happened with Nancy?” you nodded “I got the gist”. He nudged your shoulder with his “thanks for not telling anything”. You laugh. “As you said in the wood, I’m the bottom of the food chain. I've got no one to tell.”

He wanted to beat himself up; he had fallen so far into the idea of popularity that he became what he swore he would never be a dick. “You aren’t, and I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like that.” You squeeze his hand. “Don’t go soft on me. I'm quite content being there . It means I can fade into the background”. He holds both of your hands and looks you up and down until his eyes land on yours. “Someone like you isn’t meant to fade into the background”. You don’t know what comes over you; maybe it’s how nice he’s being, that you had never been called pretty by a boy, or how handsome he looked, but you lean in and kiss him. Maybe it’s because you recognise the broken mess hidden behind his eyes. You instantly realise what you’ve done. You couldn’t blame alcohol for this. You had still never drank. You’re about to pull away when Steve brings his hands to your hips and pulls you onto his lap so you’re straddling him. “Where” kiss. “Do you” another peck “think” another “you’re going?” You giggle into his mouth and further the kiss. Your hips were rolling against his, which was out of your control, not that you or Steve minded. You were so lost in the moment that you didn’t taste the beer on his lips until he put his tongue in your mouth. You tried to ignore it, but after a few moments, that’s all-consuming your brain: the metallic taste of it. 

Steve could tell you wasn’t really into it anymore, so he pulled away. He started to feel insecure. He hadn’t kissed a girl since Nancy had. Had he already lost his touch? “are you okay? Didn’t you like-“ you shake your head animatedly. The action makes your whole body shake against him, making him moan. God, he was super embarrassed now. He moved you off him before anything got more awkward, especially if you were to feel the semi he was sporting. Jesus, why were you so in your head about everything you had a way to forget, and you ruined it? “I really liked it” he refused to look at you, too self-conscious about the situation. He kept his eyes on the ceiling fan above him. “It’s fine, y/n”- you feel awkward, too, so you keep your eyes on the door in front of you. “I just get so in my head sometimes, and I don’t drink, so I tasted alcohol and- I don’t know” You got frustrated at yourself not being able to find words. You sounded like a complete idiot. No wonder Eddie didn’t want you. 

Steve looked at you and started laughing, even though he thought you were stupid. “Wait, so the Alcohol is cock blocking me?” He wasn’t laughing at you. You felt a relief wash over you. He was laughing at the situation. His laugh was so contagious and charming you don’t think you’ve ever heard it. Before you know it, you can’t help but laugh too. “What did you think you were a bad kisser or something?”. He hit your shoulder playfully. “Of course not” He joked. 

There were suddenly loud moans from the room next door. You both look in that direction and laugh again. You do a silly impression of the moan. Steve stops laughing and stares at you, surprised at how good you are at making that sound. She must have had a lot of practice faking it to be that good, he thought. The moaning next door suddenly got louder. You raised your eyebrow at him “wanna play a game?”. You don't know what had come over you, but something about him relaxed you. You didn't feel the anxiety you would feel around your friends, making sure they were safe. You just wanted to have fun. You hadn’t been like that in so long.

Free to just be yourself. He raised his eyebrows back. “I'm listening”. You moan again, louder this time. He didn't expect that. He wanted to laugh because it came from nowhere, but it turned him on. “Come on then”. (totally inspired by Easy A here) You whisper. He got the hint and moaned, too, not as loudly, though. You kept doing this back and forth, both getting more exaggerated and louder. It was hard not to laugh at how ridiculous you sounded. Next door suddenly got very quiet. “I think we won”, he nudged your arm. You burst out laughing. He had never noticed you before, but he was glad he had you tonight. He needed a laugh. He doesn't remember the last time he had actually had fun with worrying about the consequences.

There was a bang on the door. “Are you in there, y/n!?” you suddenly stop laughing and roll your eyes upon hearing your best friend’s voice. “Looks like your boyfriend’s jealous again”, Steve joked without thinking. But he then started to panic that maybe you weren’t friends yet. Was it his place to jok- you smack his arm. “Shut it, bullshit boy” you tease back. He would have hated hearing that from anyone else. But from you, he didn't mind. He wasn't sure why. Maybe it's because there was no malice in your voice. Perhaps it's because you had made his awful night better. His week is better. There is another bang on the door “y/n!” you glare at the door. Of course, he had to ruin your fun.

Wasn't it bad enough that he was breaking your heart? “I should go before he bursts a vein or something”. You get up to leave despite the voice in your head telling you to stay.  “Thank you for tonight. I really need it”. You kiss his cheek. He smiles, feeling his cheek getting warmer and his heart beating faster. No, he wasn’t ready; he couldn't let this happen like this. “ I'm trying to be better, so I don’t want to lead you on. I don’t want a girlfriend”. You shake your head, going to leave the room, and scoff, “In your dreams, bullshit boy”. He shouts after you, hoping you can hear, “I'm not sure about this new nickname”. 

Outside the door, Eddie has his hands on his hips like a parent. “Were you just in there with Harrington?” he says the name like it’s venom. “Yeah, so” just because he was your best friend, he had no right to tell you who to hang out with. You used to think his protective side was endearing, but now it was annoying. You couldn’t say anything about who he hung out with, so he can’t say anything about who you choose to spend time with. Well, that’s what you thought, but Eddie had other ideas, “are you trying to kill me?” He asks like it’s a serious thing that could happen. “Oh yeah, top of my to-do list” There you were, the person Eddie loved, the one with a comeback for everything, but now wasn’t the time for him to bask in your teasing contest that he lived for. No, when there was only a door between you and Harrington, that was too close for comfort for Eddie. He wasn't sure what the new relationship between you and the ‘king’ was, but he didn't like it one bit. 

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this was literally masterpiece,

what an emotional rollercoaster.

Can We Always Be This Close?

Steve Harrington x fem!reader [22.4k] A biggie. Best friends to lovers, summer, childhood, pining, crushes, a kiss that wasn't supposed to happen, the last cherry popsicle and three promises.

When you were both eight years old, Steve Harrington handed you the last popsicle and told you he loved you. 

It was the most innocent kind of talk, from the mouths of kids, fresh faced, summer freckles, ankles dipped in the pool and sunburn on your cheeks. 

You weren’t truly sure you both knew what those words meant back then, the depth and meaning that they held. But you said them back, lemon and sugar on your tongue and he’d beamed at you, brighter than the Indiana sun and that was that. 

And that night, when you were camped out on his bedroom floor, the first day of summer vacation and his bed sheets draped across your heads, he shared his secret stash of twizzlers with you, lips tinted red and pinkie fingers linked. 

His eyes were solemn when he whispered to you, the dulled yells of his parents downstairs acting as his backing track. His mom was slurring a little, his dad laughing mirthlessly and something smashed. You had both flinched, moved closer together between the pillows and stuffed animals.

You remember his mouth brushing up against the shell of your ear, hushed promises falling from his lips, the kind that only an eight year old could make. 

Steve Harrington promised you three things that night:

One, he’d always be your best friend. 

Two, he’d always protect you from everything bad and scary. 

And three, he’d never break your heart. 

He only kept two of those. 

Have I known you twenty seconds or twenty years?

“I think Jessica is coming over,” Steve said as he handed you a can of soda, the cold condensation on it making your fingers slip over his. 

You screwed your face up and rolled your eyes behind your sunglasses - Steve’s sunglasses - ‘cause it was a rare Saturday that you’d managed to get off work together, seventeen and desperate for time to do nothing with your best friend. 

It wasn’t meant, but you let the sound of annoyance slip from your lips, stretching yourself out on one of the Harrington’s sunloungers. Steve looked at you from where he’d sat himself down by the pool edge, exasperated and somewhat fond. You picked at the edge of your bikini bottoms, peachy orange and still damp from the water. 

You scrunched your nose, looking over at him from over the top of his old Ray Bans as he took a sip of his cola, eyes on you, waiting for you to talk. He knew you wanted to say something, could tell from your face, the way you twisted your lips and fidgeted with your swimsuit. 

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” 

If you didn’t know the boy well enough, you’d have thought his tone was condescending, maybe even a little mocking. But when you were both fifteen, he’d stood by your side at the counter of the ice cream parlour, watching your cheeks flush a pretty shade of pink when the older guy behind the freezer had winked at you, handed you your cone and called you ‘sweetheart’.  

Steve had called you the same ever since, never getting tired of the way you lit up at it, all soft and full of affection, lips twisted to hide your smile, nose turning pink. 

“I thought it was just gonna be us hanging out today?” You asked, trying to keep your voice level, casual. 

It was silly the way your chest was hurting, an anxious creep across your bones, making your skin too warm in a way that the sun wasn’t. It wasn’t necessarily because you didn’t like Jessica, you didn’t really know, honestly. 

But you’d been in Steve’s life long enough to know that not many of his girlfriends had liked you. It made hang outs and movie nights awkward, a fresh set of eyes on you, watching the way you and Steve interacted, holding back from the way you’d normally touch him, keeping your head off his shoulder, throwing your legs over the arm of the chair instead of his lap. 

You’d go to the kitchen, the bathroom, bringing back more snacks and a drink only to hear the boy being interrogated about how long had Steve known you, didn’t she have a boyfriend and god, why was she always here?

You’d stand with your back against the hallway wall, a packet of twizzlers crushed to your chest as you listened for Steve’s response. It was always the same, sure and strong and leaving no room for argument. It made you feel warm and a little safer, like you belonged in the Harrington house just as much as him, brought up in the large home with its pool and absent parents together, barbecues in the summer, Christmas in the dining room, mom and dads by your sides. 

“She’s my best friend,” he’d always say, “where she goes, I go.”

Some girls put up with it for longer than others, dirty looks given to you out of the car window when Steve would insist on dropping you home too, a messy press of a kiss pushed to your cheek before he made sure you got in your front door okay. 

There were girls that were done after bumping into you in the school hall, a sweater on your frame, the hem almost covering your shorts and god, they’d think, that looks awfully familiar. They’d sit in whatever class they had next, eyes on the chalkboard but their minds trying to decide if they’d seen that sweater on Steve’s bedroom floor before, thrown lazily over the back of his desk chair. 

You’d find them arguing about it at his car after school, voices clipped and raised, drawing a little too much attention and you’d hear your name said like a curse. Steve would let them walk away, hands rubbing at his eyes and when he’d pull himself onto the trunk, he’d find your gaze across the parking lot and he’d smile, a little soft and a little sad. 

But he’d look at you from the driver seat when he was taking you both home, eyes flickering with something else as they dare to roam across your shoulders, your chest. You’d catch him staring, brows raised and your knowing smile would make him blush but he’d tell you, everytime:

“Looks better on you anyway.”

Steve shrugged, looking a little guilty but swung a leg into the pool, letting the water swish around his shin. 

“I know, but,” another shrug, his gaze on the blue tiles, “she’s my girlfriend.”

You sighed, pushing yourself off of the lounger and walking over to the edge of the pool, chlorine and cedar from the garden filling the warm air. You poked a toe to the boy’s side before sitting down next to him, both feet in the water and the garden slabs sun-warmed against the back of your thighs. 

You nudged a shoulder into Steve’s, fighting a smile when he did it back, shuffling closer so your arms brushed together. 

“We haven’t hung out just the two of us in ages,” you told him, trying to sound annoyed but your words came out a little mournful, huffy even. “It’s been weeks.”

You knew it wasn’t Steve’s fault. Between school and both of you working weekend jobs, it was hard to find time to see each other. And since the startling realisation of finding out there were kids with superpowers out in Hawkins, other worlds that held monsters and magic, you figured trips to the cinema were at the bottom of both of your lists. 

“M’sorry,” Steve said anyway, and you hated the way he sounded, like he really meant it, like it made him sad too. “If the kids didn’t need rides to the arcade all the damn time, maybe we’d-”

You rolled your eyes, fond. “You know it’s not the kids I mind, Harrington.”

And that was true. You and Steve had taken your unofficial babysitter roles pretty seriously, and with six twelve year olds to wrangle together, it would’ve been a hard enough job without the threat of impending doom lurking behind every corner. 

You’d grown up thinking monsters only lived under your bed, hiding behind your closet door, and they could be banished with a flashlight, a kiss from your mother, the promise of chocolate chip pancakes in the morning from your father. 

But you’d grown up too fast, seeing things that weren’t supposed to be real and you hated the way you knew how to butterfly stitch someone's skin back together, how you’d seen too much of your best friend's blood. 

He pressed his nose to your shoulder, warm skin on warm skin and he let his teeth graze you, a playful threat of a bite before he sighed, knowingly, understanding. 

“Jess said she likes you,” Steve offered, hands on the grass as he leaned back, head tilted to the sun. He was watching you from under his lashes, the length of them casting shadows over his cheekbones. “Said you had chem together and you were crazy smart.”

You scoffed, laughed mirthless, because the only reason Jessica Preston knew you had class with her was ‘cause she used you to cheat off of you before you moved seats.  

“I bet she did,” was the only answer you gave, because the garden gate was suddenly squeaking and Steve was standing up, splashing water over your thighs as he greeted the girl in question. 

“Jess, hey!” Steve called out, reaching for her and pressing a kiss to her lips. His came away glossy and a little pink as Jessica reached into her bag, pulling out a tube and quickly reapplying. He gestured to you, smiling, “you two know each other, right?”

You grimaced, holding your hand up in some sort of wave before you pushed Steve’s glasses onto your head. 

“Sure,” you said, not sounding sure at all. You stood up, brushing drops of water and small flecks of gravel from your skin. “Chemistry, Mrs Telford’s class.”

Jessica squinted at you, pretty features twisted in confusion and Steve wanted to jump head first into the pool from the awkward silence that had filled the yard. 

“Right!” The girl finally gasped out, all false smiles and white teeth. “Totally! Of course.”

And then, you were dismissed.  

“Steve, there’s a party tonight,” you heard the girl tell him, stomach twisting as you walked past them, grabbing your shorts from the lounger and dragging them up your legs. “Matt’s parents are gone and,” she tapped a finger on his chest, trailing it down his sternum. “So are mine.”

You wondered if you had too much sun, wondered if the heat was what was making your insides bubble, your chest feeling too tight. You found your way into the kitchen, the open patio door doing nothing to curb the same heat that had leaked in from outside. 

You ran the tap, waiting for it to turn freezing before filling a glass and chugging it, back pressed against the counter so you didn’t have to look out the window. 

You could still hear them though. 

“You can pick me up, right? I’ll be ready at eight and then you can stay over at mine,” Jess was practically purring and it made you slam the now empty glass down into the sink a little harder than you meant to. “We’ll have the place all to ourselves.”

“Uh, actually, we’re having a movie night later,” you froze, turning to look over your shoulder to see Steve gesture to you through the window. Jess followed his hand, lips downturned and eyes holding venom. 

“You’re kidding right?” The girl asked, disbelief spilling from her lips. “I’m offering you a night in my bed and you’re turning me down for Back To The Future with her?”

It was actually The Goonies, you’d wanted to tell her, but Steve was licking his lips nervously, eyes flickering between you and Jess and you really wish you could say something to save him. 

You stepped out the patio doors, arms crossed self consciously over your chest. “Steve, it’s okay, we-”

Steve shrugged and he didn’t look surprised when Jessica stepped out of his embrace, glossy lips twisted in shock and annoyance. 

“We’ve had it planned for a while Jess,” he explained, “movies, pizza and-”

“Well come after,” Jess demanded, like it was simple. “Or better yet, just do your stupid movie night some other time.”

Steve looked confused, staring down at the girl as if he was wondering which part she wasn’t understanding. You grimaced, eyes wanting to fall shut ‘cause you knew what the boy was going to say and god, you wished you could hide from it. 

But then he was explaining to her that you were staying over, crashing at his like you always did, like you had done for years. 

Steve said it so plainly that you almost wanted to laugh. In fact, your lip twitched, the threat of a smile pulling at it and you turned, toeing at the grass as you waited for the impending blow out. The boy had an endearing habit of stating the truth with such a sincerely soft tone, almost oblivious to the carnage his honesty could sometimes cause. 

“I’m sorry,” Jessica stated, voice climbing a little higher in volume and pitch as she took in this new information. “I could’ve sworn you just told me you had another girl staying with you tonight.”

Steve scrunched his nose, mouth parting as he wondered what he was supposed to say to that. He floundered, hands gesturing wildly as he tried to gain some control on the matter. 

“Jess, what? It’s not a big deal, it’s not like that.”

And he was right, it wasn’t. Not yet. 

Nothing had ever happened with you and Steve, not when you were pressed together at night, side by side in his bed, moving closer as you slept, pillow creases on your cheeks, hands close to places you shouldn’t have been touching. 

Nothing happened in the mornings either, when you were both soft with sleep, hair mussed and misbehaving, warm hands and toes pushing into the other's skin as you tried to find the comfort of that lazy feeling in each other. 

You’d never noticed him stare at you when you got out of the shower, skin still damp, hair pushed back from your face and a too big shirt clinging to your thighs. He never realised you held your breath when he pulled his top off at night, body warm and solid beside you, fingers desperate to trace a map of constellations across his back, freckle to freckle. 

Your realisation that your best friend wasn’t just attractive, but was pretty, was a slow burn. It came as you aged, an appreciation growing as you did, Steve too. You noticed the boys in your class as they grew taller, filling out, and you didn’t realise the same was happening to Steve until the summer you both turned fifteen. 

You’d spent school vacation at his parents lake house, watched him laze shirtless on the small motorboat, new muscles flexing, drops of water casting tiny rainbows across the tanned skin it clung to. He’d grown his hair out, chocolate brown strands out of control and messy, boyish as it was pretty. You didn’t know what to do with this new information, new feelings, and when Steve continued to throw you over his shoulder, playing in the shallows of the lake, his wide hands spanning the curves of your thighs, your hips, you ignored the burn his touch left behind. 

Jess huffed out a laugh and it sounded dangerous, a little like a threat. She found your gaze, held it until hers dropped to scan you up and down, doing her best to make you feel small. 

“Whatever, Harrington,” she shoved past Steve, shoulder edging into his chest as she headed for the gate. “Ask your little friend to suck your dick instead.”

You burned at her words, eyes wide as you stared at a crack in the patio, refusing to watch as she stormed through the gate, the hinges protesting loudly as it was slammed shut, leaving you both in silence. 

The trickle of the pool filter was the only sound for a minute, maybe two, then you heard Steve sigh, heavy and world weary. You looked at him, feeling a little guilty. 

“Shouldn’t you go after her?” You asked. 

Steve gave a half shrug, already moving to sit down on the lounger that you’d spent your morning on. You joined him, sitting on the end so you didn’t touch, like you weren’t supposed to after Jessica’s accusation. 

“Nah,” he told you, “it’s fine, it’s… whatever.”

You snorted and the sound made the corners of his mouth lift a little, eyes flitting over to you, always interested in what you were going to say. 

“That’s a new height of romance, Harrington,” you mused, foot dipping into a small puddle of pool water. You drew lines and shapes on the dry concrete with your toe, watching the sun dry them out almost instantly. “It’s whatever?”

“I dunno,” Steve sighed, reaching over to pluck his sunglasses back from the top of your head and pushing them over the bridge of his nose. He looked good with them on, you mused, too pretty, too nice. “Wasn’t like we had that much in common.“

“Then why date her in the first place?” You asked, face twisting with annoyance.

Steve had developed a habit in freshman year of dating girls who gave him nothing more than wandering hands in the back of his car, passive aggressive comments when he missed their calls and whiplash when they found out about you. 

A smirk tugged at his lips, a handsome match with his Ray Bans and messy hair and he turned to you, eyebrows raised. 

“You’re a pig,” you muttered, trying to sound disgusted but Steve was pushing his fingers into your sides, hands dragging over your ribs and you were laughing despite yourself, “get off me!”

You were ignored, unsurprisingly, and you wondered if Jessica had made it back to her car yet, if she’d driven away or if she had heard your shriek of delight when Steve suddenly stood and scooped you up. 

One arm was wrapped around your waist, a wide, rough hand pressed against the skin just under your breast, his thumb grazing the of your bikini. The other curved itself on your thigh, your body held tight to his as he ran with you, hurtling you both to the edge of the pool and you pressed your face into his neck when he jumped, bracing yourself for the cool water. 

Steve didn’t let you go until you both surfaced, his feet planted on the bottom of the pool as he pushed you both to the surface. Your hands were around his neck and you gasped, water dripping from your lashes and lips, hair a wet mess and he was laughing. That soft laugh that made any summer day feel warmer than it already was, a laugh that reminded you of fresh lemonade and bedroom sheet forts. 

He let go of your legs before you waist, letting the lower half of your body slide out of his grasp and slide against his, so you were chest to chest, your abdomens pressed together and you almost lost your footing, chin slipping under the water, eyes gazing up at him despite the way the sun made it hurt. 

Maybe it was the way you pressed a hand to his stomach to ground yourself,  feeling the muscles tense under your touch, maybe it was the way you were looking at him, maybe he just forgot he wasn’t supposed to look at you like that. But something happened and Steve cleared his throat, letting go of your waist and allowing himself to fall backwards and under the water. 

He reappeared a few feet away, hair darker and slicked back, eyes a little wild as he looked at you, like you were suddenly dangerous. 

And I'm highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you. 

You weren’t overly fond of Nancy Wheeler, not at first. 

You couldn’t deny that the dislike you felt for the girl stemmed from jealousy and your own inability to get a handle on your feelings but, you had to admit, she was better than most of the girls Steve had dated before. 

Pretty, smart, sharp and with a keen eye. She liked journalism, the quiet and even you. You shared the knowledge of The Upside Down, bonded over the fear you both felt for her brother and his friends and when you passed each other in the hallway, you nodded, civil and overly aware of all the things you’d both seen together. 

You weren’t joined at the hip and you didn’t love how she slid her hand into Steve’s, or how he kissed her at her locker, telling you he’d catch up with you at lunch. You’d spent months telling yourself you weren’t jealous of Nancy, just that you missed your best friend and you resented the way the girl took up all his free time. 

You missed the way he snuck in your bedroom window, a pointless task and waste of his energy, ‘cause your parents would hear him clambering up their drainpipe, eyes rolling, fond and affectionate, ‘cause it was Steve. 

He’d always told you that he did it for the fun of it, to see you smile when his head appeared over the sill and so you’d help him clamber over the window frame. He’d spend the late hours with you, whispering about nothing and laughing about everything, shoulder to shoulder in your bed until you both fell asleep, sprawled on top of the sheets, his shoes in the middle of your floor and his arm slung over your waist. 

You liked it when the sun woke you early, the curtain still opened from when you’d forgotten to close them after Steve’s sudden appearances, the light pink and peach as it leaked into your room. It painted stripes of light and shadow over your walls, over the boy’s broad shoulders and cheek, the other smushed into your mattress, hair a mess and lips parted sleepily. 

You got to admire him like that, when his eyes were still closed and he was so unaware. Steve couldn’t catch you staring, wondering if his lips were actually as soft as they looked, if he knew how pretty you thought he was, if he thought you were pretty too. 

He still picked you up for school in the morning, his BMW sat at the end of your drive but his clothes were sleep creased, hair mussed from spending the night with Nancy instead, sneaking through her bedroom window and not yours. He still smacked a kiss to your cheek when you parted for class but it wasn’t the same, he wasn’t quite just yours anymore and you hated the way it hurt. 

So yeah, you could appreciate that Nancy was a nice person and seemed to be good for Steve - at least, until she wasn’t - but you didn’t have to like her for it. 

When she broke your best friend’s heart, you’d found him sitting on the hood of his car after school, lips downturned and expression sour, nothing but worry beating in your chest ‘cause you hadn’t seen him since the morning before and no one answered your calls to his house that night. 

But then rumours started swirling around the halls, floating over tables in the cafeteria like wildfire and you couldn’t fucking find him. You saw Nancy in the library during your free period, her head bent close to Jonathan Byers as they whispered about something you couldn’t hear, their hands on the table, fingers too close to touching and Nancy had the right to look guilty when her gaze met your own. 

So you’d marched straight over to Steve and he crumbled a little when he saw it was you, slipping off the hood and letting you usher him to the front seat. He didn’t really hesitate when you held out your hand to him, silently asking him to let you take care of him. 

He placed the car keys in your palm, eyes tired, face sad and you were desperate to fix it. You hadn’t seen Steve like that before and you didn’t know what to do, his pain was yours, your heart beating hard against your chest until you felt like your bones were bruised. 

There were talks of the girl cheating on him, wandering around late with Jonathan and you knew they shared the same worries and trauma that you all did when it came to knowing things the rest of the town didn’t, but you didn’t know what was happening between the pair. 

So you drove him home, listened when Steve told you that he loved her, that he didn’t know how to fix it. But then it was and then it wasn’t, a game of on and off, yes and no, that you couldn’t really keep up with. 

It all came to a head on Halloween, after months of leaving your window open for no one. 

Steve climbed in, startling you, hands finding your bedroom floor before his feet did and when he stood, eyes meeting yours, you wanted to be mad at him. 

It had been a week since you hung out, passing in the halls and waving when you could, exams stressing you out and his time taken up by Nancy and all the parties he seemed intent on going to. He’d given up trying to get you to go with him, sick of it all after the second time, a spare part, third wheel, an audience to his kisses with Nancy. 

But he stood by your bed with the most forlorn expression on his face, features soft and watery and you simply pulled back the sheets, shuffling over to the side that had been made yours when you were both seven, so Steve could claim his. 

The boy toed off his shoes, his jacket falling to the carpet as he shrugged it off and you felt like a kid again when he crawled across your mattress, shuffling underneath the covers and pushing himself against you. 

Steve got as close to you as he could without asking for a hug, his pride already seemingly too hurt to put himself out there, even with you. But he didn’t hesitate when you turned into him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into you, your nose pressed into his hair. He smelled like smoke and weed from the party, a little like Steve underneath it. 

He returned your touch instantly, seeking it out with a desperation that almost shocked you, eager to accept it when it was offered. He tugged you in by the waist, arms wrapped around you and his face pressed into the crook of your neck. 

He wished he told you then, that you smelled like summer and afternoons by the pool, like cherry popsicles and promises and home. But he didn’t feel brave enough, not then, not yet. 

“We broke up,” Steve finally mumbled, voice a little broken and muffled by your neck and hair. “She broke up w’me. Called us bullshit.”

You frowned, confused, pulling back a little in the hopes that Steve would look at you and explain but his grip on your waist only tightened and you patted at his hair, smoothed the almost curls at the nape of his neck and whispered his name. 

“Steve, hey, babe, what?” You received a groan in answer but you persisted, shuffling out of his grasp and gripping his chin with your finger, pushing at him a little pleadingly until the boy looked up and met your gaze. 

“What happened?”

Steve didn’t answer until you pulled the sheets over your heads, your own little bed fort that let the dim light of your bedside lamp filter through, soft and warm and hazy. You let go of his chin, your hand smoothing his hair back from his face and he pushed his cheek into your touch as he spoke. 

“Nancy, it’s over,” he told you, a frown pulling at his brow, “she said the whole relationship was bullshit, that I was bullshit.”

You held your breath, letting him talk as you smoothed a thumb over his cheekbone, feeling him relax into you despite the way he was letting his words tumble from his lips, mixing in with his emotions until he was stuttering over himself. 

“She, she said we were just acting like we were in love?” Steve caught your stare, his eyes confused as he looked at you, as if he could find an answer in your gaze but you just gaped at him. “Said that I only thought I was in love with her ‘cause I was too busy tryin’ to pretend I wasn’t in love with someone else, or some shit like that, I don’t fuckin’ know.”

“What?” You whispered, voice full of surprise because what the fuck? 

“Right?” He answered, indignant and wide eyed. “I don’t know what she was talkin’ about, she would answer me, just told me she wasn’t in love with me and god, fucking Byers took her home.”

“Jonathan?”

You screwed up your face, hardly even reacting when Steve groaned again, pushing himself back into you, his face comfortably pressed into your chest, just above the swell of your breast, his mouth warm through your shirt. 

It should’ve startled you, the proximity, the intimacy, especially after missing him for so long. But it was still Steve, your best friend, the boy that promised to be there until the very end. 

“Why’d Jonathan take her home?” You asked, your cheek pressed to the top of his head as you spoke, the sheets fluttering around you both as Steve shifted, arms wrapping around you more, pulling you until you were flush with his body. 

He couldn’t have been touching more of you if he tried. 

“She was drunk,” he mumbled into your chest, lips moving over your shirt, making the material shift across your skin and it lit you up, body electric and the air buzzing. “I told him to. She didn’t want me.”

You sighed, eyes closing at the pained sound in the boy’s voice and you let him hold you, your own hand taking into his hair, scratching at his scalp in a way you knew he liked. 

“Steve,” you murmured, soft and sympathetic. 

He whispered your own name back to you, his tone the same and it made you smile. You could feel his own against your chest, lips lifting, breath coming out in a small huff. 

“You could still talk to her tomorrow, y’know?” You said conversationally. You hated yourself for trying to fix it for him, for attempting to out the girl back between you both but fuck if you weren’t a good friend. “Maybe she just said all that shit ‘cause she had too much to drink.”

You twirled a length of the boy’s hair around your finger, making it curl. “Was it Jack Templeman’s punch? That dude makes rocket fuel in a bowl, she might have been absolutely wasted.”

Steve shook his head before he pulled back, falling into your pile of pillows and gazing at you.  

“Nah, I don’t wanna chase her,” he said and despite the sadness in his voice, he sounded sure. “I don’t wanna be with someone who thinks I’m bullshit. I mean, I know I’m not perfect, but damn, bullshit?”

You shook your head, gaze hard and you wanted to shake him, to make him understand how wrong Nancy was. 

“Steve, you're not bullshit.” He held your stare, lips parted. “You’re the furthest thing from that, I’m sorry I don’t know why Nancy said that, I wish I could-”

He stopped you before you could continue, a small smile lifting at his lips and he found your hands between the tangle of sheets, tugging you over to him and onto his chest. You lay your head there, protesting when Steve’s finger poked at your cheek, fond and soft. 

“I know what you’re gonna say, sweetheart, and it’s fine.” He sighed, sleepy and weighted. “You don’t need to fix everything for me, not this time, anyway.“

You fell silent, thinking about the times Steve was referring to, wondering if this was finally the year he stopped needing you. The thought made your chest hurt, your eyes blur and you sniffed. 

“My dad’ll be home from that conference soon,” he mumbled softly and you could tell without even looking at Steve that he had his eyes closed. “You can come fight my battles for me then, how’s that sound short stuff?”

It was silly, his words. The way they made you feel. Like you were needed again, important. Like he didn’t wanna face the things that scared him without you. It hurt that after all those years, he still felt like that about his own father but it calmed a part of you to know that he didn’t seem as cut up about Nancy Wheeler as he once was. 

“Are you okay?” You asked, tentative, and you made a face ‘cause god, that seemed like a stupid fucking question. “Will you be okay?” You asked instead. 

Steve hummed noncommittally and you craned your neck to look up at him, smiling when you were proven right at his closed eyes. His lashes fluttered against his cheeks as you shifted over him, tucking yourself into his side. 

“I mean yeah, sure,” he murmured, voice dropping lower and rougher as sleep pulled at him. “I’ll be fine. I’ve got you, haven’t I?” 

He turned his face to yours at that, nose nudging at your forehead as he blindly sought out your features, pressing a soft, warm kiss to your temple. 

“M’sorry,” he whispered into your hair and you stilled, swallowing the lump that had caught in your throat. “I’m so sorry I’ve not been around.“

You squeezed your eyes closed at his words, letting them burn until you were sure you weren’t going to cry. 

You wanted to say it was okay, to soothe him, to make Steve feel better but the lie got caught on your tongue and you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him something that wasn’t true. 

You shrugged instead, lips twisted to keep them from turning downwards, his words heavy on you because god, you’d missed him so much. 

“I missed you,” Steve whispered and fuck, it lit you up inside. “Like, really missed you.”

He was soft and gentle with it, words brushing against your temple, breath warm, hands twisting in the sides of your shirt, barely grazing at your skin, head butting at yours playfully. 

He was Steve, he was late nights, long days, summer rainstorms, driving lessons, flunking your test, Saturday afternoon drives, feet on the dash, music too loud, smile blinding. 

He was a little bit yours again. 

“Yeah,” you sighed, feeling a little lighter than you had before, eyes falling shut like Steve’s. “I missed you too, Harrington.”

Steve’s breath was becoming slower, chest falling heavy and lazy and you both curled into each other on instinct, sleep pulling both of you together, the same way it did when you were both ten and piled on the sofa, movie still playing. 

“You still my best friend?” His voice was a soft mumble, and you heard the worry there, hidden behind a crack of humour. 

“Yeah, I’m still your best friend.”

—————

You didn’t see Nancy until a week later, and when you did, you didn’t expect her to corner you at your locker, big eyes wide and asking if you could talk. 

You met her after school, walking to the opposite end of the parking lot from where Steve would be waiting on you, perched on the hood of his car as usual. 

Nancy saw you coming, her face a little nervous as she bid goodbye to Jonathan who’d been standing beside her and you watched as they squeezed each other's hand before he took off. 

You raised your brows as you approached, tugging your headphones to sit around your neck and you wondered what Nancy Wheeler could possibly have to say to you. 

The world wasn’t ending, the kids were all safe and she wasn’t your best friend's girl anymore. 

She squinted at you, trying to work out your mood, your emotions but you remained a little stoned faced, wondering if Steve would be pissed if had to see you here. You knew they’d spoken since Halloween, a chat that Steve had said felt too formal and stilted, but the air was cleared enough that they could cross paths when dropping Dustin, Will and Lucas at Mike’s house, an awkward wave exchanged from the front door to the car. 

“You wanna sit?” Nancy asked, gesturing to a bench that sat by the edge of the school line, shadowed by trees that provided a little coverage from the wind that was picking up now that winter was approaching. You kicked at the leaves on the ground and shoved your hands into your jacket pocket, holding it tighter to your body. 

“Sure,” you muttered, following her across the grass, leftover rain sticking to your boots. 

The sky was still blue, a crisp Fall day that turned your nose pink, numbed your fingers and had you wishing for a Hawkins summer, the smell of sunscreen and cut grass replaced with rain and the promise of snow. 

You sat on opposite ends of the bench, bodies turned to face each other and with the safety of your school bags between you both. You picked a dead leaf off the sole of your shoe, waiting for the other girl to talk. 

“Look, I don’t know what Steve’s explained to you,” Nancy said, voice cracking a little with what seemed like nerves. “You know, when we spoke the other week.”

You shrugged, “I mean, not much,” you answered, “but it’s really not my business to know.”

Nancy nodded at that, appreciative, “I guess but I just want us to be friends, you know? I wanted you to understand why I broke it off with Steve. He’s a great guy but-”

“I know he is,” you interrupted, brows pulled together in confusion ‘cause there was never any debate about that. You softened a little when Nancy smiled at you, lips pulled up and eyes a little knowing. “Sorry, that was rude.”

“It’s fine,” she told you, voice lighter than it had been before. “Like I said, Steve’s great… I guess I just didn’t love him the way I should’ve. And maybe that would’ve been a little easier if I didn’t see the way he looked at someone else.”

You frowned, staring at the girl as she looked back at you, silently willing you to catch on. 

“What?” You asked, “I thought this was about you and Jonathan? You can’t act as if you haven’t been glued to Byers hip since this happened.”

Nancy had the right to look guilty, picking at her nail before looking back up at you. “Yeah, no, you’re right. I didn’t mean for what happened with Johnathan to happen… it just did, but that doesn’t make it okay.”

She brushed a curl from her face, bringing her bag down to her feet so there was less separating her from you. The wind rushed at you both, stinging your cheeks and whipping at your clothes before it settled back down and let Nancy speak. 

“I’m not blaming this on Steve, I’m not, and I shouldn’t have said he was bullshit,” she rushed out, “maybe we were just meant for other people you know? And think that, maybe, Steve doesn’t know that he’s already found his person.”

“I genuinely don’t know what you’re talking about,” you huffed, “but whatever. I’m just glad I don’t have to hear the two of you arguing every other day.”  

Nancy nodded, smiling at the way you were avoiding her gaze, your mind suddenly racing with what she’d said. 

“For what it’s worth,” the girl murmured, foot nudging friendly against yours, “it would probably make it a lot easier on the poor guy if this girl could admit that she was in love with him too.”

“Alright, yeah,” you stood up suddenly, cheeks flushed and your head a little scattered. “I think you’ve got it twisted Wheeler, but, uh, good talk.”

The girl hid a laugh, pressing her lips together as she watched you gather your bag, eyes shining. Nancy nodded, looking up at you as you stood a little awkwardly. You raised a hand in a goodbye, a small smile lifting at your lips in what seemed like an amicable agreement. 

You stopped before you got too far, the sun in your eyes as you squinted back at the girl who was still sitting on the bench. 

“Hey, Nancy?” She looked at you, eyes surprised. 

“Yeah?”

“Are you happy?” You asked and she was taken aback at how genuine you sounded. She paused, eyes flicking over to where Jonathan’s car was parked, engine idling as he waited for her. 

She nodded, resolute. “Yeah, I am,” she answered quietly and confidently. 

You nodded too, surprised at how it warmed you to hear that. You never wished ill on the girl, you just didn’t like how she broke your best friend, leaving you to put him back together again, piece by piece. 

“I’m glad Steve’s got you, you know,” she called back before you could start to walk away again and her words made your heart stumble. You swallowed, looking at her with parted lips. “He’s lucky to have you.”

And well, wasn’t that a statement to behold?

When you finally clambered into Steve’s car, bringing the chill and some stray leaves from the outside, Steve was frowning softly, concerned by your lateness. 

He looked at your flushed cheeks, pink nose and glassy eyes from the sharp wind and cranked up the heat, pointing his vents to your side too. 

“Where’ve you been?” He asked, voice worried, “I was gonna call in the kids, start a search party.”

You laughed, a little strained after the conversation you had, rubbing your hands together for warmth and you shrugged, noncommittal. 

“I was uh, just catching up with a friend.”

Can I go where you go? 

When Steve got a job after graduation at Scoops Ahoy, it was supposed to mean free ice cream and catching a late showing at the cinema after his shifts. 

It brought you Robin Buckley, Steve in a sailors hat, a new flavour of ice cream every month and fucking Russians. 

You thought dimensions and demogorgons were about as much as you could handle but Dustin came back from camp with a new gadget he’d built, some kind of high tech radio that looked like it was held together with duct tape and paper clips but the thing actually worked. 

It worked well enough to pick up secret codes from underground labs, translated by Robin and well, fuck. Suddenly you were trapped in an elevator that wasn’t actually supposed to be an elevator and Erica Sinclair was going to miss her Uncle Jack’s party. 

You knew Steve wasn’t happy with you, you could tell by the way his jaw was set, the way that he looked at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention, and his lips twisted and his gaze dropped when you tried to catch his gaze. 

It made the air in the elevator crackle and buzz, tension on top of tension as you moved around each other, looking for a way out, hardly touching, hardly speaking. Robin twisted her lips, sympathetic, when she caught your gaze, your face flushed with annoyance. 

He’d told you not to come. 

Not out of meanness, or because you had fallen out, simply because he didn’t want you in harm's way. You’d ended up yelling at each other, a hundred feet below the mall and trapped in a metal box because why did it matter when Robin and the kids were stuck there too?

Steve, of course, cared that he had another friend, a thirteen year old and a ten year old to keep safe and he had every intention of doing so. But he couldn’t help but feel sick, his stomach rolling, at the thought of you being put in a dangerous situation. 

You’d told him that he was being stupid, that you weren’t leaving him. You thought you’d seen all the dangers Hawkins had to offer, you could handle yourself, you could help him. 

His worst fears came true when you all got split up, Dustin and Erica hopefully somewhere above you all, on their way for help, for something, anything. 

But then a man came, tall and dressed in uniform, badges adorning his chest, and he took one look at the way Steve stood in front of you when he entered and swung for the side of his head. 

The boy fell backwards, dazed, groaning at the shock and pain of it all before pulling himself off of the floor, body slow and sluggish. He lifted his head in time to see the same man gripping you by the back of your neck, hair fisted painfully in his grasp as he pulled you out of the room. Robin was yelling, swearing as she tried to get a grip on you, her hand wrapped around your ankle from where she was on the floor but you were pulled from her easily, a swift kick sent to her stomach for the audacity of her trying. 

Steve felt his heart leave his chest, plummeting to his stomach, his blood running cold and everything around him slowed down. His vision was fuzzy but he could see the panic on your face, lips parted in a gasp as you tried to get to grips with what was happening. 

Russians. A lab. Under Starcourt Mall. 

He couldn’t move fast enough and he wanted to yell out, he wanted to run. But it was like being trapped in a bad dream, body damp, sheets tangled around his limbs as he tried his best to scream, to move, but nothing fucking happened. 

The door slammed shut before the ringing in his ears could stop and he could taste blood in his tongue, metallic and horribly warm. He made his fists bleed from pounding on the door, knuckles cracked and bruised, voice wrecked from yelling your name. 

He only stopped when the man came back, pulled him from Robin's side and threw more hits to his face, his body. His skin was littered with angry bruises, almost black, skipping the shades of lavender and pink, turning inky within minutes. 

Between each punch, Steve spat out blood and asked where you were, groaning as he spoke. He was ignored, time and time again, until he lost it completely, tried to lash out, fists swinging, legs thrashing and he wasn’t sure if he was crying, or it was just blood dripping down his face but he wanted to sob, desperate for you. 

He was thrown to a chair, tied back to back with Robin as some guy in a white coat threatened him with surgical equipment that looked like it didn’t belong in a hospital and when his eyes fell shut with the weight of his injuries, he wondered if he’d ever see his best friend again. 

You were finally gathered up in what could’ve been hours later, maybe one, maybe five. A guard tugged at your wrists, taped together and red raw from where you’d tried to pull them apart and suddenly you were pushed through the same door they’d taken you from, thrown at Steve’s feet and the yelling continued. 

Who did you work for, who did you work for, who did you work for?

It didn’t end until people were dead and Starcourt Mall was on fire. 

Alarms had gone off, Dustin rushing in with an electric cattle prod of all things, weidling it like battleaxe and telling you all you had to run. You weren’t sure who was supporting who as you all tumbled back to the surface, dripping blood and tears onto the mall floor as Steve gripped your hand with a fierceness you’d never experienced from him before.

But then there were guns, El broken but still fighting, the rest of your friends, concern and confusion written on their faces ‘cause when you had all been fighting Russian Soviets, they’d been fighting Billy, the evil inside of him turning him into something different from the boy you’d seen in the school halls.

You’d held Max when he fell, body bloodied and ripped open, eyes glassy like he’d known what was coming. You left the mall that night with a new fear of loud noises, of fireworks that cracked and snapped in the sky. You knew what burning flesh smelled like, you knew that there was more to be said about monsters, more danger in the world than just the creatures that lurked in the cracks of the earth.

You knew that evil could come in the shape of a man, a familiar face, behind a uniform, a doctor's white lab coat. 

You were tired, beaten, a little bloodied and bruised and your throat was raw after you’d screamed for Steve, fists beating on the door as you went ignored. You heard him from behind the steel walls, his voice as wrecked and panicked as your own and you sobbed when you heard his yells turn to groans, sickening wet thumps of bone hitting bone, breaking up the sound of him calling out your name. 

You sat beside him in the ambulance, hands still clutching each other tightly, fear of being torn apart again ripping through you both. The medic wanted to take him to hospital, to make sure his cheekbone wasn’t shattered, that you both weren’t suffering from shock or concussion but Steve refused, just wanting to go fucking home.

The sky was angry, red and crying, plumes of black and crimson smoke billowing from the broken building and you didn’t know what to do. People were dead and the whole world seemed to be burning. 

But Steve took you by the hand, pulled you to his side as you made sure everyone was okay, as well as they could be considering the circumstances and the boy stood a little numb as he watched you drop to your knees and fold Max into a hug, tears streaking through the blood and dirt on your cheeks when you pressed a kiss to El’s forehead. 

Everyone was a little broken, barely standing, barely breathing and it didn’t seem difficult to continue the lie to your parents, calling them from a pay phone to say that you were okay, you had seen the news but it was fine, you had been at Steve’s the whole time, you’d be home in the morning.

You let Jonathan bundle you both into the back of his car, one of his old jackets thrown around your shoulders as Nancy sat in the front, Steve beside you, shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh. He dropped you both at Steve’s front door, little to be said between the hour of you as shock and tiredness tugged at your bodies, your heads. Hands were pressed to shoulders, squeezing softly, telling each other everything you all needed to say but couldn’t - not then, not just yet.

Thank you, I’m sorry, I’m glad you’re okay, I’m happy you’re safe.

The Harrington house was empty, as expected and the rooms felt darker and colder than they had before, empty and too big, your harsh breaths rattling too loudly and you could feel a panic building inside you, clawing at your chest. 

It grew when you looked at Steve’s face, dried blood and dark bruises making him look like he was about to fall apart and when you squeezed your eyes closed, you could hear the way he yelled your name, raw and broken.

A sob bubbled from your throat, spilling from your lips and you’d barely taken a breath before Steve was in front of you, arms pulling you into him, a hand around your neck, foreheads pressed together. It was supposed to ground you - and it did, in a way - but the cries still came, stuttered and broken, the heavy kind of sobs that made your body heave with the exertion of it all. 

Steve held you through it, both of you swaying unsteady on your feet in the middle of his hall, shoes streaking dirt across Mrs. Harrington’s white tiles. Neither of you could ask the other if they were okay, ‘cause the answer was obvious but when your tears finally stopped, your face wet and your head sore, the boy took you by the hand and led you up the stairs. 

He walked past his bedroom door, the little slice of heaven you most wanted at that moment in time, the only place in the large house that truly felt like home to you both. It was a surprise when he nudged open the door to the main bathroom, rarely used due to all the ensuites that were accessed through bedrooms but the large corner tub there suddenly looked like a gift from above. 

You felt like a spare part when Steve let go of you long enough to turn the taps, filling the bath with hot water and a mixture of his mother’s expensive soaps and bath milks, sweet smelling bubbles and steam filling the room. 

You found a first aid kit underneath the sink, pushed to the back of the cupboard, unused and when you motioned to the boy to sit on the closed toilet seat, he did without arguing. He spread his legs for you without you needing to ask, standing between his knees with a bottle of antiseptic and some cotton balls, more tears slipping down your cheeks as you mumbled out apologies, dabbing the stinging liquid into his skin.

Steve simply held onto your legs, eyes closed and his hands wrapped around the back of your knees, his thumbs stroking over the sensitive skin there as he whispered back, telling you it was okay, it’s fine, I'm fine sweetheart. 

The cuts on his face didn’t seem as angry, as severe, when you wiped away the blood that crusted around them but the dark bruises seemed mean and vicious against the pale cast of his skin, shock seeping out all the colour from his cheeks. 

He let you press a kiss to his forehead, clutching at the sides of his head, fingers buried in his damp, messy hair and the push of your lips was fierce, conveying everything you wanted to say but couldn’t, because fuck, you didn’t know how to tell your best friend that you think you were falling in love with him. Because how else could the thought of losing someone hurt so fucking much?

Steve left you alone to bathe, skin stinging as you stripped down to your underwear, your body and bones lazy as you pulled at your jeans and shirt. You gave up when you got down to your underwear, cotton pants and lacy bralette mismatching in a clash of cherry print and forest green and they both stuck to your skin as you slid into the hot water. 

You drew your knees to your chest, eyes closed and head pressed there as you let the heat nip at you, cuts and scrapes protesting but it was good to feel something when your head felt numb, your chest hollow. You weren’t sure how long you sat there for but you could've sworn someone was calling your name, a knock on the door echoing on the tiles and your mouth felt too fuzzy to answer. 

Steve could only hear the slow, steady drip of the tap and panic rose in his chest when you didn’t answer him and he had thoughts of you unconscious and slipping beneath the bubbles. 

So he knocked once more, heart racing before he turned the handle and pushed at the door a little, calling out your name. 

He heard the water splash at the sides of the tub, movement at least. But then he heard you sniff, the noise turning to soft sobs and it gripped at his heart, crushed it a little and before he knew it, he was in the bathroom, bare feet on the tiles and staring down at you, tucked into the smallest ball you could amongst the bubbles.

Neither of you spoke as Steve pulled off the shirt and cotton sweats he’d changed into, his own eyes glassey as he left his boxers on, stepping into the water with you, sitting down in the space behind you.

It felt like the most natural thing in the world when he spread his legs and pulled you into them, your back to his bare chest as he wrapped his arms around your knees too, holding you to him. He let you cry like that, head bent over yours, the two of you curled into the water together, steam licking at your skin. You think you felt a tear drop from his eye, warm as it slid through your hair and onto your cheek and the feel of it made you search for his hand, scrambling desperately under the hot water and foam so you could link your fingers through his.

Your grip on each other was as tight as it was when he’d pulled you to your feet after Dustin saved you from pliers and scalpels, the same way it had been when a six year old Steve had helped you up from the playground, knees scraped and front tooth missing after falling from the monkey bars. It was the same touch you granted him when you were twelve and he had to go to the emergency room, his arm broken after falling off of his bike. You’d begged to ride in the ambulance with him and his mom, his ink stained fingers reaching for you, not Mrs. Harrington. 

When you had no tears left to give and the water was turning lukewarm, Steve turned the tap again, let the hot water fill the room back up with steam and soothe your tired bodies. He grabbed a sponge, tapped at your knee until you turned to him, face to face and unbelievably vulnerable. 

But you let him smooth the sponge over the bare skin that he could see, up your arms, wiping away the soot from the fire, the stubborn dried blood that didn’t want to leave. He squeezed warm water over your chest, looking at your eyes and definitely not your bra, the pretty, green lace turning darker against your skin.

He pressed a kiss to your hair when you let your head fall into him, too tired to sit up and when you couldn’t hear the far away whine of sirens in the distance anymore, he helped you stand, the water that was light pink with blood swirling down the drain. He wrapped you both in towels, murmuring the whole time that you were okay, he had you, it was gonna be fine. 

You pulled your favourite shirt from underneath his pillow, tugging it on and falling into his bed, the smell of Steve and home surrounding you in the same way that the sheets did, soft and comforting. The boy clambered in beside you, body stiff and pain settling in his bones but you glued yourself to his side, hands intertwined and pressed between your chests and you couldn’t close your eyes until Steve leaned into you, breath warm and smelling of mint as he pressed his lips to your ear as he told you: “Remember when I promised you that I’d protect you from everything bad?”

You nodded, remembering that cherry flavoured popsicle and the way Steve’s pool looked so much bigger and deeper back then. “We were eight, Steve.”

He hummed in agreement, forehead rubbing fond against your own and you revelled in the fact that you both smelled like the same cotton and lemongrass body wash. 

“We were,” he agreed, voice a soft whisper, cracking a little from the yelling that had ripped his throat apart. “But the promise still stands, sweetheart.”

You opened your eyes to look at them and he looked a little fuzzy as you teared up. But Steve shook his head gently, hand tightening around your smaller one.

“No more tears, please babe,” he sniffed too, as if the entire night suddenly hit him, “I got you now, yeah? I’m never gonna let anythin’ happen to you, promise.”

You slept then, a little broken and fitful, but every time you shifted in your sleep, the boy followed, bodies traversing across the mattress and between the sheets. When you woke in the morning, you had your head on Steve’s chest, a leg thrown over his own, your thigh hitched high over his and his arms were a vice grip around you, his face pressed to the top of your head. 

The sheets were on the floor, a pillow by the door as if it had been kicked and the sun was shining through the gap in the curtain, bright and warm and mocking. The world felt a little different after that night, and so did your friendship with Steve Harrington. 

I've loved you three summers now, honey, but I want 'em all. 

Working at Family Video with both Robin and Steve meant that you got to spend a lot more time with your friends. It also meant that Robin was more privy to watching how you and Steve interacted with each other and it had the girl taking notes on your relationship with the boy like her new favourite science experiment. 

“Look, I’m just saying, he’s not really dated since Starcourt and the boy lost it over you that night.” 

You rolled your eyes, still putting away the videos that were stacked in your arms as Robin followed you up and down the aisles. The store was quiet, a Tuesday afternoon giving you little to do but you’d graduated after you fought a monster and survived the soviets, so applying for colleges wasn’t all that high on your to do list. 

Your parents had taken that news better than Steve’s, both couples perplexed at their kids' choices to stay in Hawkins and work for the summer but at least your Dad had threatened bodily harm against you when you’d told him. 

You eyed Steve who was on the other end of the store, leaning lazy against the counter as he ticked off the delivery list. He looked a little older, like you did, but the stubble on his jaw and the broadness of his shoulders made your lips part every time you chanced a look. 

He was still Steve, but he was a little taller, a little stronger. He was still late night drives and sneaking through your window, mixtapes on your birthday and cherry popsicles in his backyard during the summer. Maybe he flirted a little more with you, comments suggestive and compliments coming easier but you tried not to think about it. When you did, late at night and alone in bed, it made your head spin, your lips part, your eyes close. 

You sighed, turning to Robin to tell her with an exasperated whisper, “we’ve been best friends since pre-k, of course he was upset that I was dragged away by a fucking Russian Soviet, Robin.”

She rolled her eyes at you, stumbling over her own foot as she tried to keep up. Steve glanced up at you both at the noise, brows furrowed as you both froze, eyes a little wide and you waved, hands raised awkwardly in unison. 

“What’re you both doing?” He called out, suspicion lacing his voice and you felt heat travel from your chest to your cheeks. 

“Nothing,” Robin called out at the same time you told him you were fixing the horror section. 

Your voices piled over each other and you wanted to groan, because Robin couldn’t lie to save herself and now you both looked like idiots. But Steve just smiled, fond, and turned back to his stack of papers. 

“I'm telling you,” Robin continued, voice a little lower now, “Steve likes you, like, he likes you, likes you. Why can’t you see that?”

You stopped and turned at her last words, truly taken aback at how sincere she sounded, how confused she seemed. 

‘Cause Steve was still Steve and you were still you and nothing in the world could really change that. Steve had promised you that he’d always be your best friend, and at nineteen, that still seemed like a pretty sweet deal. 

You shrugged, pushing the last copy of Nightmare On Elm Street onto the shelf and you crossed your arms over your chest, suddenly feeling far too exposed at her interrogation. 

“It’s not like that,” you told her, whispering still, “it’s never been like that with Steve.”

She huffed, swiping a finger along the row of videos and blowing away the dust she’d collected. Robin turned, an eyebrow raised. “Would you want it to be like that? ‘Cause seriously, dude, I still can’t believe that, in like, sixteen years of friendship, you’ve never even kissed once.”

You shrugged again, holding back on telling the girl that sometimes you thought the same. 

When you were fourteen, you thought that Steve was going to be your first kiss. Looking back, you weren’t sure why, you just did. Maybe it was a feeling, maybe it was hope, maybe it was just inevitable. 

‘Cause you grew up beside the boy and never once did he feel like a brother, and that had to mean something, right? He held your hand when you watched scary movies, when you crossed the road on Main Street, when it was rush hour, just like your parents had told you to when you were seven. He never dropped your hand, he never kicked you from his side of the bed when the movies you watched together became too much. 

You went through middle school and high school still the same, joined at the hip, still sharing secrets, still holding hands when things got too hard. 

But then one summer, Hayley Collins had a birthday party and you’d been sick, too ill to attend but Steve had still stood underneath your bedroom window, features twisted with conflict as you told him it was fine, he could go without you. You remember telling him to have fun, and to bring you back some candy. 

He did. He brought you back fistfuls of sweet stuff, bags of M&M’s and pop rocks but you didn’t expect him to bring his lips to your ear and tell you a secret you never expected. 

Steve had had his first kiss. A game of spin the bottle in Hayley’s basement with her cousin who was from out of town. A girl a year older, a girl who had pretty blonde curls and a reason to wear a real bra. 

You remembered the feeling when your heart sank and the pop rocks stopped fizzing on your tongue. You wondered why the sugar tasted bitter, why your eyes were suddenly pricking with hot tears and when the boy asked if you were okay, a grin slipping from his lips, you lied and told him that you still felt sick. 

You turned to Robin, a fake smile pulling at your lips as you tried to act casual, as if her words weren’t kickstarting a feeling in your chest that you had been trying so hard to ignore for the last five years. 

You furrowed your brow, turned to the cart that was still full of videos no thanks to your friend, and picked up another pile. You stacked them until they reached your chin, until they gave you a reason to walk to the other side of the stands and take a deep breath.

“I haven’t really thought about it,” you lied, and it felt heavy on your tongue, tasting too sweet and sinful. Because of course you had. “It’s not something that’s crossed my mind.”

Robin saw right through you and you could tell by the way her brows rose and she hid her smile behind a press of her lips. 

“Sure,” she said, voice too light. “Humour me then. What do you think would happen if you did let it cross your mind?”

You stared at her, mouth agape, because what the fuck was the girl getting at. 

She grabbed some of the videos you were holding, The Exorcist close to slipping from its slot underneath your chin and she started stacking them beside you, completely out of alphabetical order, but that was a problem for another day. 

“Just listen,” she said and you hated how she sounded excited. “What do you think would happen if you asked Steve to kiss you?”

She dropped a box, cursing when the corner of it hit her toe but she bounced back up, bright eyes still brimming with all the thoughts that were swirling round her head at once. 

“Cause you know he would, right? Like the poor guy can’t say no to you, he’s never been able to.”

You made a sound of protest, heart hammering in your chest because Steve was still right there, fingers running though his hair, pen between his lips and so completely fucking oblivious. 

But Robin suddenly stopped and spun to face you. She wrapped a hand around your wrist, soft and warm and you could tell she was choosing her words carefully before she said them, a sure fire way to tell that the girl was being serious. 

“There’s a reason that none of his girlfriends have stuck around, babe,” Robin murmured, sincerity lacing every word. “It’s ‘cause he always picks you, every time.”

—————

It had been a week since Robin had cornered you at work, whispering to you about Steve and kissing and god, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. 

You thought about it when he gave you a ride home after work, sun setting, the day turning pink and casting indigo shadows over his face, the line of his jaw, the curve of his mouth. 

You thought about it when he pushed himself into you during Saturday morning shifts, his body lazy as he leant against you, his chest to your back and his head on your shoulder. It felt softer and intimate than when he’d done it before, your mind running wild with the idea that if you turned around and kissed him, right there in the middle of Family Video, he might kiss you back. 

You thought about it when you were lying by his pool, his parents gone, the kids and Dustin’s new friend Eddie starting water fights on the lawn. You’d watch the way Steve watched you, jealous eyes and lips pouted when Eddie soaked you with a water balloon, skin damp, cheeks flushed and eyes bright. You watched how he softened and lit up again, your attention on him when you shook your wet hair over his bare chest and you couldn’t help but notice how his gaze followed the movements you made when you bent to slide your shorts back up your legs. 

So maybe it was for those reasons that you turned to him one Friday night, when it was just the two of you out in his backyard, and asked him why he’d never kissed you. 

It could’ve been the joint you’d been sharing making you feel braver, or maybe the shadows that you were hiding in, the spaces that the pool lights didn’t quite reach. 

Maybe it was the way Steve had been looking at you each time you took the joint from his lips and put it between your own. Hair a little messy, eyes hooded, jaw slack. 

Maybe it was because of all of it. Maybe it was because you were nineteen and growing impatient. Maybe it was sixteen years of build up. Of wondering, wanting, waiting. 

The air smelled the same way it did when you were eight, chlorine and cedar from the trees, that afternoon's sunscreen mixing with weed and smoke. Your tongue was stained red from the popsicle you’d had, Steve’s blue and there were new freckles on both of your faces, noses a little pink from lying out in the sun all day. 

And when the afternoon faded into evening and the sky was lilac, Steve produced a joint with a grin, a wiggle of his brows and suddenly you were lying on the deck together, the pool filter trickling in the background and laughing soft as you blew smoke into the night. 

There was a buzz of insects from the forest that stood behind the house, the faint hum of someone’s music that played from a couple of yards over and you felt the warmth radiate from the boy from where he lay beside you. 

Your bare feet pointed to opposite ends of the pool, one of yours dipped into the water and your heads were touching, cheek to cheek. If you turned to look at him, you knew your lips could slip over his easily and the thought of it made your body fizz. 

He had just plucked the joint from your mouth, thumb grazing clumsy over your top lip, fitting pretty into the dip of your Cupid’s bow when you tilted your head, cheek resting on the patio, the slabs still warm from the afternoon sun. 

“Hey, Harrington,” you sounded quiet and lazy, like you didn’t have a care in the world. But god, your heart was in your throat, pulsing like a warning. “You ever thought ‘bout kissing me?”

If Steve was shocked, he didn’t show it, not really. His eyes widened slightly, joint hanging slack from his lips and he stubbed it out on the concrete before swallowing, hard. 

He turned to you, noses almost brushing and you watched the way his gaze settled on your lips. 

“Why d’you ask?” His voice was a hush, warm and rough. 

You shrugged, boldness faltering because he hadn’t answered your question but holy shit, he was still looking at your mouth, the way your tongue snuck out to wet your bottom lip before you spoke. 

“Just something Robin said,” you told him, nose scrunched. 

Your words made his lips part, nodding in understanding because of course Robin was involved and the girl had been at him too, hounding him in the stockroom at work, calling him out on his obvious crush on your over old, dusty videos. 

But all the boy could say was, “oh.”

And then there was silence, for a second, maybe two. It felt like minutes, like an hour, like the sky was suddenly crashing down on you, as if lavender clouds and the stars were going to bury you were you lay but then-

“I have,” Steve said, quietly sure. You looked over at him as he blew out a breath, “course I’ve thought about it. ‘Bout kissing you.”

“Oh,” it was your turn to keep silent, his admission washing over you like a tsunami sized wave, one that you weren’t sure you’d be able to keep your head above. 

You sat up suddenly, shocking Steve and he leaned up onto his elbows with wide eyes, watching as you turned to face him, legs crossed and knees knocking into his thighs. 

“Why haven’t we?” You asked, bemusement colouring your tone and you couldn’t help but press your hand to his where it lay on the deck. Your fingers brushed over his, a new kind of touch. “Why haven’t we ever kissed?”

You wondered if he could hear your heartbeat, if it was rattling against your ribs as loud as it seemed to be. You held your breath as Steve sat up too, mirroring your pose and crossing his legs until you were knee to knee and looking like a couple of innocent kids again. 

He shrugged, blowing out another breath and he tugged a hand through the front of his hair, making it stand on end. He looked a little wild, like you short circuited him, like you were half way to ruining him. 

The boy’s voice cracked a little when he tried to answer and you wondered if this was okay, if you should’ve asked but then Steve was speaking, his thumb drawing absentminded circles over your bare knee.  

“I’m not really sure,” he said and he spoke soft and quiet, like he was telling you a secret. “I suppose I just didn’t wanna lose my best friend.”

It was the answer you expected. Best friend first, the prospect of a girl to kiss in the background of his mind. You should’ve been happy, you should’ve felt loved, but the idea of never having Steve in the way you realised you wanted him was becoming more crushing by the day. 

“Or maybe,” he suddenly continued, “I guess… I guess I didn’t realise I was allowed to.”

Your lips parted at that, a small bomb dropped in the middle of the Harrington’s backyard. You waited for the pool to empty, for the small wave to hit your back, for the sky to light up but nothing came and Steve was watching you, waiting. 

“You’re allowed to,” you whispered and oh my god, you didn’t feel high enough for this, but you continued, tummy dropping and skin electric. “You’ve always been allowed to.”

You heard Steve’s breath hitch and it only felt natural when his hand came up to cup the back of your neck, thumb pressed to the spot behind your ear and god, he was leaning in and so were you. 

“I just don’t know if we should,” he was telling you but he was still moving into you and his hand never fell away from your face. 

“It’s just a kiss,” you told him, voice shot, lips falling apart and you could smell his aftershave, the leftover chlorine that stuck to his skin and he was summer, he was cherry and smoke and god, he was forbidden, he was yours. “Friends can kiss, doesn’t have to mean anything.”

“It’s really just curiosity, right?”

His nose was bumping against yours, both of your eyes fluttering closed at the feel of the other's breath falling across your lips and you wondered if he’d taste like his popsicle, blue raspberry, sugar and fizz. 

You nodded at his question, too gone to speak and the movement made your top lip brush against his. Sparks against your skin, electric, dangerous and it made you sigh. 

“Steve?” You whispered, eyes squeezed shut like you were seven again and making a wish beside your birthday cake, candles making your skin glow.

He hummed, thumb still pushing against that spot on your neck, “yeah sweetheart?”

“Will you kiss me?”

And fuck, maybe Robin was right because the boy didn’t say no. In fact, Steve didn’t say anything, he just moved into you until your nose was pressed into his cheek and his lips were plush against yours and oh my god you were kissing your best friend.  

He still tasted like raspberry, like you thought he would. Like summer and promises and pool days and a little smoke and Steve. 

It was a slow push of his lips to your own, mouths slanting over each other’s, soft and languid like you both knew this was your only chance. You thought you heard him moan, a soft, low noise that made your chest hurt and when the kiss lingered, you brought your hands to his cheeks, fingers splayed over his jaw as you tugged him a little closer, greedy. 

And when his tongue licked at the curve of your bottom lip, his hand travelled to tilt at your chin, asking you to open for him, you did, no questions asked. You sighed, blissed out, when his tongue slid over yours, a hand falling to fist in his t-shirt, soft cotton crumpled in your hand because you felt like you were going to float away. 

Then Steve was pulling back, chest heaving, forehead pressed to yours and eyes still slammed shut as he gave you another secret, pressed to the corner of your mouth, your jaw, the curve of your neck. 

“I always thought you were gonna be my first kiss,” he said it like a confession, like something holy. “M’sorry you weren’t.”

And then he was back on you, lips melted between your own and you knew that the pretty noises that you pulled from him would play like a record in your dreams for months on end. Steve was grasping at your hip, the material of your dress bunched under his hand, making the cotton hitch higher up your thighs. 

You were in his lap, wide hands on your sides, guiding you as you kissed him, lovesick, eyes closed, body buzzing and you fell across his knees, thighs shifting apart to cage him underneath you and oh my god. 

Fuck. 

You sat a little higher than him, knees planted on the deck and his head was tilted back to kiss you as you crowded him. One hand was on your jaw, thumb rubbing against your cheek as he kissed you deeper now, a little dirty and when he pulled a small moan from you, his hand clasped at the back of your thigh, skin on skin. 

You could feel him hard underneath you and it made your head feel fuzzy, your body pleading with you to drag yourself along the length of him, hips rolling, chest heaving. 

When you pulled back, panting, the reflections of the pool were bouncing off your faces, ripples of light dancing across the boy's features, hitting his eyes and turning them caramel. You felt golden when he touched you, skin lit up, the air around you both crackling like a storm was coming. 

Maybe it was still the weed, maybe it was a new found courage, maybe it was just teenage hormones and the thought of seeing each other naked for the first time since you were both four, but when Steve asked if he could take you inside, you didn’t hesitate to say yes. 

It felt different in his bedroom when you both tumbled in, colliding with the dresser as you kissed each other like you meant it, like you’d never do it again. The room felt smaller, darker, softer, more intimate than it had ever been for you and suddenly you felt like a girl at the end of date. 

Steve touched you like you were more than just his best friend and it made your stomach roll, your thighs rub together and you couldn’t quite get over the way his hand spanned the width of your cheek, fingertips grazing your hairline whilst his thumb managed to pull at your bottom lip, eager for more of you. 

It all got a little wild after that, loose change and bottles of aftershave cologne clattering off of the drawers, falling to the floor as Steve picked you up and slammed you on top of it, legs spreading for him to fit in between. Hands roamed up your thighs, pushing at the soft skin there until he hitched a knee up and over his hip, pressing himself into you. 

Your dress came off first, his shirt following, a mix of colours on the carpet and he pressed his lips to the skin he uncovered, mouth over lavender lace and delicate straps. 

It felt desperate, you felt desperate. And when he sucked a bruise into the column of your throat, you keened, high and needy. It made the boy groan, mouth vibrating against your chest as he kissed over the lace triangles covering you, his gaze flicking up to watch you nod at him before he was pushing one aside, tongue smoothing over a nipple. 

It made you grab at his hair, fingers delving deep, tugging in appreciation and you were prepared for the sound it pulled from him, low in the back of his throat and it made his eyes flutter shut. 

“Sweetheart,” Steve huffed out, hands skimming up and down your sides as he pressed his forehead to yours, “I’m gonna come in my pants if you keep that up.”

He sounded wild, unravelled and sharp around the edges. It made you feel full of power, pretty lips and lace and soft skin, and you pressed the softest kiss to Steve’s mouth, his breath coming in harsh pants and before you could ask, you were being manhandled again, legs around his waist and his hands on your ass. 

He sat you both on the bed like that, spread out pretty on top of him, knees pushed into the mattress as you pulled at his belt, holding yourself up as he shuffled out of his jeans. He sucked tiny bruises on your collar bones as your bra was peeled off, nothing but your underwear separating you both and you felt his hands drag down your back, a touch that was so affectionate and soft that it took your breath away. 

Then night seemed slower after that, like time paused for you both, just for you to remember every touch. Like the world stopped spinning on its axis just for you two, just so you would both remember the way the other felt, ‘cause fuck, you had a feeling this wouldn’t happen again. 

“We don’t have to go any further,” Steve gasped, lips barely leaving yours as pushed and pulled at your hips, helping you rock over him, body rolling across his lap. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

But you were ready to climb him, your hands grabbing at his hair to tug him back to you, kisses swallowing his words and telling the boy that you wanted exactly the opposite. 

It was strange how natural it felt, to tug the length of him out of his boxers, the feel of him hot and hard in your hand. You shuffled in Steve’s lap as he palmed you over the lace of your underwear, breath uneven. It didn’t take long for him to tug them down your legs as he slid on a condom, your foot kicking purple lace to his bedroom floor and you suddenly felt like you were underwater; body moving lazy and slow as you lifted yourself onto your knees, Steve’s hands strong and reassuring as you took him in your hand and sunk down onto him.

Neither of you moved, bodies tangled and still as you fit perfectly in his lap, arms wrapped around each other as you panted heavy into parted lips. Steve whispered your name, like a prayer, soft and broken before he pushed his lips to yours, head tilted into you so he could catch your lips deep and slow.

He grunted in surprise when you tightened around him, body clenching on his at the touch of his tongue across your bottom lip and you whimpered, hips beginning to wiggle. This was more than you’d felt before, more than wandering hands in back seats, more than a quick and fast hook-up in a party bathroom, more than fingers under skirts in your bedroom when your parents were asleep across the hall. 

“Can I move?” You ask, quiet, your hands grappling desperately at Steve’s shoulders palming over the muscles there. “I need to move, Steve, please.” If you were begging, you didn’t care, because you felt so full, so tight around him and you couldn’t help but admire the way the boy looked underneath you. 

But Steve didn’t have you waiting long, any teasing long forgotten about ‘cause he felt like he was wound too tight and you felt like fucking heaven around him. You didn’t know your eyes were wet until his thumb smoothed over your cheekbone, breath stuttering and you both gasped and swore when you lifted yourself up, just to rock yourself back down.

He moaned your name so prettily, lips glossy from your kisses and his eyes were hooded, gaze set on you, jaw slack, hands roaming across the expanse of your back as he held you to him. 

You moved over him with purpose, Steve answering with low groans and he pulled soft whimpers from you, your hand catching his face so you could look at him, gazes heavy and hot, pinned to each other. Your thumb found the curve of his bottom lip, tugging a little and Steve moaned when the pad of it slid over the edge of his teeth. “Steve,” you gasped, hips moving messy and the boy grabbed at your ass, helping you ride him a little faster. 

“That’s it, sweetheart, tell me, tell me what you want and I’ll give you it,” he pressed his lips to yours as he spoke, words slipping over your lips, your tongue and god, they tasted sweet. “I’ll give you anything.”

“More,” was all you could manage, breath hitching, eyes slamming shut ‘cause Steve’s hand dropped between you both, skin slick and he pressed his thumb over your clit; quick, hot circles that made stars flash behind your eyelids. “Close?” Steve asked, voice rough and you nodded, moving a little wilder over him, the boy reciprocated, hands holding your hips still so he could thrust up hard into you until you were biting down on the muscle on his shoulder, thighs tensing, eyes tearing up. 

Steve whispered your name when he came, arms tight around you, head buried in the crook of your neck, eyes squeezed shut, hoping and praying that he’d always remember the way you felt around him.

He kissed you one last time that night, bodies still naked and stretched out between his sheets and you didn’t say anything to each other as you caught your breaths, eyes wide on each other. There was a part of you that wished you could have the excuse of alcohol, too messy after some party to remember. You couldn’t blame the weed either, the half smoked joint still stubbed out in the backyard, hardly enough to do anything than let you both share a buzz. 

In the morning, you pulled on your clothes, wrinkled on Steve’s bedroom floor, still smelling of smoke and the boy. You tiptoed around his room, searching for your underwear, your shoes, all while the boy lay on his bed, face down, hair mussed and the white sheets barely covering his waist.

You wish you had it in you to let yourself drop back down into bed with, to have the courage to press a kiss to the freckle on his right shoulder, smooth a soft hand down his spine. But the sun was coming in through the window and your lips were still swollen from your best friend’s kisses and everything was starting to taste like a mistake. 

You didn’t know it, but Steve was awake as you left, eyes open and face pressed into the pillow that still smelled like your shampoo, heart beating wild in his chest but he didn’t move, didn’t call out to stop you. And well, that was that. 

My heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue. 

You didn’t talk about it. 

A week passed and neither did Steve and before you knew it, you were a month down the line, the feel of your best friend's lips on your skin feeling like a fever dream and you didn’t know if you’d ever be able to forget the feel of him moving against you, inside you. 

It hurt to look at him, for a while. It got worse before it got better, stilted conversations and awkward eye contact, the taste of regret in both of your tongues and all the things you wanted to say to each other were left unsaid. 

But it was fine. 

Steve asked you round for a movie one Friday, videos stacked on the coffee table in his living room, your favourite sweater of his lying out on the arm of the sofa along with red vines and the good kinda popcorn. 

You didn’t push yourself into his side like you normally would and you didn’t know if that disappointed him or not, but when he dropped you off home later that night, the sky was a dark, rosy pink, the lingering smell of rain in the air and he smacked a messy kiss to your cheek before you climbed out of his car. 

It was fine. Until it wasn’t. 

Steve started dating again, one girl, two girls, three girls. Lucy on Saturday, Matthew David’s cousin Paula the next Friday, Cindy from last year's cheer squad the week after. 

You didn’t ask about it and he didn’t tell you, just poking an affectionate finger to the apple of your cheek when he told you he’d see you the next day. You were his best friend, again, still, only. 

It was fine until one Friday shift, when you disappeared into the back room a little earlier than the store closed. You came back out in a new dress, short and pretty, with blush on your cheeks and a gloss on your lips. Robin had wolf whistled, Steve had frowned. 

“Where are you going?”

His tone of voice cut you in half, accusatory and a little shocked. Steve leaned over the counter, a finger picking delicately at a lock of hair that you’d spent too long trying to get to sit nicely. 

“A date,” you told him, voice soft, gaze lowered as you tried to cram lip gloss tubes and perfume bottles into your bag. 

“With who?” Was the instantaneous response, that same tone of voice. 

You saw Robin’s gaze flitting between the pair of you, not privy to the events that took place a month prior, but not for a lack of trying. The girl was perfectly aware that something happened. She just didn’t know what and neither your or Steve had told her anything. 

“Nate Owens,” you told him and god, why was it so hard to meet his eye? “You know, he was on the team with you.”

Steve pulled his brows together, bewildered at your answer. “Yeah, I know him, why the fuck are you going on a date with Owens?”

You heard Robin’s sharp intake of breath and she watched as you squinted at the boy, annoyance on your features. Knowing what was to come, she grabbed the last of the returns and made her way to the other side of the empty store, leaving you two alone.

“What?” You huffed out, exasperated already. Your stomach was tumbling and you hated the way you didn’t know why. Maybe it was first date jitters, maybe it was the way Steve was looking at you, maybe it was because you knew you had absolutely no interest in dating anyone that wasn’t your bet fucking friend. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Steve grappled for something to say, stuttering over excuses until he tutted and grabbed the stapler, carelessly turning it over in his hands as he told you, “you’ve got nothing in common with him, like, at all.”

You scoffed, pulling at the hem of your dress and smoothing out imaginary creases, you were annoyed, something burning and twisting inside of you. “Sure Harrington, I forgot you choose all your dates based on compatibility and shared goals for the future.”

“He’s a douchebag,” Steve tried again, “he’s only after one thing.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I am too,” you said loftily and you didn’t look for Steve’s reaction, you didn’t want to. You moved from behind the counter, leaving a cloud of perfume in your wake and headed for the door. “Robs, I’ll call you later, ‘kay?”

Before the girl could answer, Steve was tailing you, moving across the store with that stupid stapler still in his hand and he called out your name, making you stop and turn.

“He’s just gonna hurt you,” the boy explained and you hated how his voice had turned a little softer. “You can do so much better than him.”

“Yeah?” You turned fully, chin raised and shoulders set as you locked eyes with Steve. “Who should I date then, Steve? Who’s good enough?”

The air felt electric, fully charged as the boy stared back, lips parting, chest barely moving as if he was holding his breath. If Robin was still there, you didn’t know, your mind only registering the way the boy was still silent in front of you. 

“That’s what I thought,” you eventually muttered, hot tears threatening to prick at the corner of your eyes. “Don’t wait sixteen years to start taking an interest in my love life Harrington, I’ve got by just fine without your advice.”

You’d opened the door by the time Steve replied, voice hot and clipped with anger and something else, a tone you’d never heard him use with you before. “Yeah, well, don’t come fucking crying to me when he turns out to be a dick.”

You laughed humorlessly, your back turned to him as you faced the night outside, the cool air nipping at the heat on your cheeks. You wanted to go home, to chance a look at Robin and silently ask her to clamber into bed with you, if she’d let you cry onto her shoulder as you ate pizza and watched reruns of Charlie’s Angels.

There was also a part of you that wanted to turn to Steve, glassy eyed and confused, to ask why it suddenly felt like you were fighting for the first time since middle school. 

But you didn’t.

You walked out into the night and let the door slam shut behind you. 

If you’d hung around, you would’ve heard Robin slam down the copy of Stand By Me that she was holding, eyes a little angry and disappointed as she looked at the boy and said: “You’re a fucking idiot.”

‘Yeah,’ Steve thought, ‘he knew he was.’

----------

You hated that Steve was right, you hated that Nate Owens was a pig, you hated that he did nothing but look at your chest over the dinner table, you hated that he tried to lean in for a kiss the minute you both got back into his car, you hated that he got pissy with you when you didn’t let him push his hand up your dress, you hated that he told you to put out or get out.

You hated that he left you on the side of the road, a little out of town, at a restaurant that you didn’t really know, dinner paid for with his daddy’s money.

You hated that when you finally found a payphone at the side of a dark gas station, you punched in Steve’s number. You hated that you started to cry when you heard his voice, you hated that he told you was coming to get you. 

Steve found you easily despite your awful directions, and when he asked if you were okay, voice quiet and gentle, you choked out a little sob, feeling pathetic and Steve told you to stay put, that he would be there as fast as he could.

He definitely broke some laws to get to you, flashing through amber lights faster than he was supposed to and when he pulled into the station only twenty minutes later, his heart ached at the way you leaned against the brick wall, half in shadows with your arms wrapped around you, the slight wind picking at the hem of you dress, lifting it from you thighs.

Steve got out of the car before you could move, pushing yourself off of the wall and he hated that your eyes were glassy, that you seemed embarrassed. You let him tug one of his sweatshirts over your head, one he specifically grabbed for you before rushing out of his door, ‘cause he watched you leave work without a jacket and if he’d been in a better mood when you were going on your date - if you’d have been going on a date with him - he would’ve teased you about being cold later.

Steve opened the passenger door, waiting for you to fold yourself into the front of his car and when he got back in, the only light coming from the old neon sign that was flashing red, telling customers that the store was open. 

He wrapped his hands around the steering wheel, squeezing it until his knuckles turned white and he glanced at you, expression almost unreadable.

“Did he hurt you?” he asked.

“No,” you shook your head, and it was true. You’d thrown an elbow into the Nate’s chest when he tried to push you too far, too fast, the sharp point of your arm catching him just below his throat and he’d turned on you, telling you to get the fuck out. “The only thing hurt is my pride, but I guess that’s on me, huh?”

Steve sighed at that, turning fully in his seat so he could face you, his hand coming up to press into your cheek, his thumb running gently under your eye, catching the tears there before they fell.

“Sweetheart-” Steve started, but you were overwhelmingly emotional, everything from the night and Nate and Steve suddenly becoming too much and god, you just wanted to yell with it. 

“What? Is this the part where you say I told you so?” You tried to sound biting, but the words hitched in your throat, fresh tears springing to your eyes. “Why’re you even here Steve?”

You knew why. 

“Cause you asked me,” he answered, simply and that was all there was to it, wasn’t there? “And I’m not gonna tell you shit, I’m… I’m sorry I acted like that early, I dunno what was wrong with me.”

You wanted to press further, you wanted to ask him if he truly didn’t know the reason he acted like an asshole. You wanted to ask if he was jealous, if he wanted you the way you wanted him, if he missed you, if he thought about you when he went on all these dates, if he wanted to kiss you again, if he thought about it all the time, the same way that you did. 

But Steve was still talking, fingers slipping from your face to pick at a stand of hair, playing with the end of it absentmindedly. The car felt too small, too warm and too dark, and you were sure that the last time you were both this close, you’d been in Steve's bed, wrapped around him as he made you come. 

“He didn’t deserve even an hour of your time,” he told you, brows knitted together in a frown. “And you deserve better than Nate fucking Owens, you’re too good for him,” he repeated his statement from earlier and it made you chest ache, your tummy tumble over because god, you wanted to be brave.

“Who’s good enough then, Steve?” You breathed it out, voice almost a whisper because you were so close to losing it, to grabbing the boy by his face and telling him how you felt, how’d fallen in love with him fuck knows how many years ago and you’d only recently let yourself believe it.

He started, wide eyed, lips parted and waiting, the same reaction he’d had back at Family Video. But you didn’t walk away this time, you let out a huff of laughter, no humour in it as you sat back in the seat and started out of the windscreen. The gas station was deserted, the night creeping into a new day, the clock ticking closer to midnight and the light was still flickering. 

It painted you both crimson, eyes brighter than they should’ve been, cheeks rosy. You pushed a foot to the dash, dress slipping up your thigh and gathering in the crease of your leg, showing off way too much skin but you didn’t care.

“I grew up with all the other guys in our grade knowing that I was Steve Harrington’s best friend,” you told him, voice hushed and cracking, “all of them too scared to touch me ‘cause your stupid ten year old ass always threatened to beat them up.”

He was still staring, lip twitching as if he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to laugh or not because it was true. But then he watched a tear slip down your cheek and it caught the light, a flash of ruby before it got caught on your top lip and you licked it away.

“Then in high school, I was a challenge, ‘cause I was still Steve Harrington’s best fucking friend. Boy’s would either be terrified to talk to me or treat me like the best prize they could win. They thought I was off limits, some thought I was your girlfriend and god, Steve, fuck…”

You swallowed, hard, breath catching in your chest and the car was so silent, the boy watching, listening. 

“I never thought that I wanted that, to be anything more than your friend. I didn’t,” you tried to sound convincing, but even to your own ears, your protests sounded weak. “But then you kissed me.”

You looked at him from under your lashes, hands twisted nervously in your lap, his sweater fisted between your fingers and you hated the way it smelled like him, like mint and cedar and smoke and suddenly, it was all too much.

“I know I asked you to,” you blurted out, eyes brimming with tears again, spilling over the line of your lashes and suddenly, you didn’t care about what you said anymore. “But fuck! Robin said that you never say no to me, that you’d do anything for me and god, I just wanted it once, I didn’t know it would go that far that night… I don’t regret it,” you rambled, words falling clumsily over the next and you chanced a look at him, his eyes full of shock but there was a softness behind it, familiar and fond. “I don’t regret it at all, I just-”

You sucked in a breath, let your head fall back onto the rest and let your eyes fall closed before you admitted another secret.

“I just can’t stop thinking about it.”

You kept your eyes closed as you kept talking, the words, the confessions, falling so much easier now that you’d started. The dark made you feel a little bolder, the silence of the boy encouraging you to just keep spilling your heart out, no interruptions.

“I thought that maybe you would feel the same, that you’d say something first, ‘cause you’ve always been braver but then you started dating that girl, then the other one. And maybe I was just stupid, maybe I was wrong,” you sighed, gazing to the side to catch Steve’s eye, a warmth blooming over your entire body, embarrassment, adrenaline and the feeling that you were throwing yourself off a cliff surging over you. “But there was a part of me that thought you’d maybe figure out you loved me too.”

You didn’t know what you expected, really. There was such a large part of you that still believed you were only going to ever be friends, that if Steve wanted more, he would've told you by now. That part told you you were imagining things, that sleeping together was nothing more than an experiment, a product of being high and bored with your best friend. It told you to ignore the way you thought he looked at you, the way that sometimes, you were so sure his touch lingered for longer than it needed to. 

But then there was a voice in the back of your head, a shit, it sounded a little like Robin’s and it told you that the boy before you would do anything for you, anything you asked. And wasn’t that why he was here now? It told you that friends didn’t look at each other like that, that friends didn’t have to untangle themselves from each other's arms each morning, that friends didn’t kiss like you had both done. 

Steve whispered your name then, a hand reaching out to catch yours. 

“You know I love you,” he whispered, voice a little shocked, a little awed. He sounded broken too, like he didn’t know what he was supposed to say, like he was terrified of saying the wrong thing. “I’ve always loved you, you’re my best friend.”

Your heart fell. 

“I- I don’t wanna lose you,” Steve said and he was rambling, falling over his words as his eyes searched your face for something he wasn’t going to find. The softness you’d held in your features was gone. “Babe, you’re my best friend, I can’t lose you-”

“Don’t call me that,” you choked out, your heart racing, your stomach twisting. You thought you might be sick. “Fuck, shit, take me home.”

You pulled your hand away from where the boy held it, your demand sounding harsh and too loud in the quiet of the car. You couldn’t look at him. The red light was still flashing, flickering and it suddenly felt like it was splitting your head in two, like it was pulsing to the same beat as your heart. 

Steve said your name again, pleading, his hand on your arm, silently begging you to turn, to look at him. 

“Can you let me explain? Please, god, I didn’t mean it like that, you have to understand-”

“Take me home, Steve, please.”

But he ignored you, tugging the keys out of the ignition and leaning forward, a hand tilting at your chin to try and a catch your gaze but your cheeks felt too hot and the burn at your eyes told you that you were going to start crying again and all you could think about was the list of boys who were too scared to make you theirs, too happy with a quick fuck in the back of their shitty cars and you never used to care because you were only ever happy with one boy. 

You knew you should’ve let him talk, that you owed him his chance to speak but the burning sensation of embarrassment and rejection was creeping up your spine like poison and you hated it, you couldn’t stand it. 

You panicked. 

You pulled at the door handle, fingers clumsy as you pushed the door open, clambering out with Steve’s sweater still swamping your frame and you could hear the boy calling your name even after you slammed the door shut. 

You made a start for the alleyway behind the gas station, somewhere the car couldn’t follow and by the time you made it a few streets over, you realised Steve wasn’t coming for you anyway. 

You got halfway home before the rain started falling, a pathetic spit that misted into the air and soaked you through. It made your hair stick to your cheeks, Steve’s sweater damp and hanging heavy on your body and by the time you reached home, it didn’t smell like him anymore. 

Good, you thought. 

Because when you were eight years old, Steve Harrington was the first big to tell you he loved you and then he promised you three things:

One, he’d always be your best friend. Two, he’d always protect you from everything bad and scary. And three, he’d never break your heart. 

It took almost twelve years, but shit, the boy finally broke one of them. 

Take me out, and take me home. 

It took Steve twelve years to break his promise to you, but only four days to fix it. 

Which was impressive really, when he spent the first three days agonising over what to say to you. You’d been avoiding him like the plague, worse than the plague, quite frankly. 

He expected you at work the next day, chest sore from holding his breath as he watched the door, eyes tired from staying up all night.

 He’d stayed in that gas station parking lot for too long after you’d left, eyes wide as he watched you leave, disappearing behind the alleyway almost instantly. 

Steve had slammed his hands on the dash, overwhelmed with everything you’d said, admitted to him, with glassy eyes and he fucking hated how he’d made your bottom lip tremble, your breath hitch and stutter as you tried not to cry. 

He’d panicked. 

And you’d left. 

He’d driven home slowly, trying to catch sight of you on the sidewalks that led home, rolling down the streets that looked unfamiliar to see if you were there, trying to find shortcuts. When the rain had started, he’d cursed, no sight of you anywhere and by the time he’d pulled up outside your house, he was relieved to see your bedroom light on, a sign you’d made it home safely. 

He wanted to knock on the door, to climb into your bedroom window and try to make you smile again, to stop you crying because he couldn’t fucking stand it when you cried, especially because of him. 

But the window was shut, a rare sight and he knew it was a hint, a very obvious clue for him to stay the fuck away. He watched your light flicker off, the house bathed in darkness and he’d sat, pushing the heels of his hands to his eyes and cursing himself. 

He should’ve told you, he shouldn’t have been so fucking scared. 

You didn’t show up at work and when he asked Robin if she’d heard from you, the girl had told him that you were sick, had called in early and spoke to Keith. 

“She’s put in a line for the entire week, actually, said it’s a bad bug,” Robin had told him knowingly. “Whatever you’ve done, Harrington, I suggest you fix it.”

Steve didn’t ask how Robin knew, didn’t press her for any more details, ‘cause he knew her too well, knew she wouldn’t tell him shit so he just slammed a video he was supposed to be rewinding on the desk, and sighed, heavy and tired. 

“I know.”

You didn’t answer his calls. With your parents visiting family out of town, there was no one in the house but you and you made a point of refusing to pick up the phone at all. 

Robin would visit, not bothering to knock as she slipped into your house, huffing and humming to herself as she climbed your stairs, barging into your room unannounced. 

She set a careful gaze on you, a lump underneath the duvet, as she dumped your favourite snacks at the foot of your bed. 

“You’re not sick, are you?” You hated how it didn’t even sound like a question, just an accusation. “You wanna tell me what happened?”

And you did, you told her everything from the joint, to your kiss, the entire night. You told her about Nate, about your confession, about the way Steve looked at you when you told him that you thought he loved you too. 

Robin listened, curled up by your pillows beside you, your head on her shoulder and her cheek resting on yours, a bag of Reece’s Pieces between you both. 

“I know that this probably isn’t what you wanna hear right now,” the girl began, patting your hand with her own, “you know, with you being all heart broken and what not.”

You huffed. 

“But I don’t believe for a second that Steve doesn’t love you, that he isn’t in love with you.”

“Robin, please,” you groaned, shoving your face into her arm, because she was right, you didn’t wanna hear it. You’d spent too long trying to convince yourself that she was right, Steve was in love with you, only to blurt out your feelings for him and have him look at you, sheer panic on his face, in return. 

She sighed, knowing it was useless trying to make you see her side of things, so she pushed her nose to your temple, blew a raspberry to the side of your head and stole another Reece’s Piece. 

“Have you spoken to him?” She asked, voice unusually quiet. 

You shook your head. 

“Have you let him try?” The girl said knowingly. 

You shook your head again. 

Another huff, a somewhat affectionate butt of her head to yours and then she turned, shuffling against the pillows until you were face to face. 

“He’s really broken up about this,” she told you and her words made you wanna cry again. “You need to let him explain.”

You sniffed, eyes watering and despite the ache that still lived in your chest, you nodded. 

“‘Cause I don’t think you said things right, y’know?” Robin squinted at you, trying to make sense of what you’d told her Steve had said that night. “He’s a guy, shit, he’s Steve. Communication isn’t his strong point.”

“I don’t know what’s more clearer than ‘you’re my best friend, I can’t lose you’. Idiot or not, he made it pretty obvious that we’re never gonna be anything more.”

The movie that you had both hardly been watching was over, the screen fading to black and the credits rolling. A love song started to play, soppy and too cheery and you grunted, searching for the remote between the sheets before angrily pressing the off button. Silence fell over you and Robin snorted, flinging herself over your lap and looking up at you with a small smile. 

She pressed a finger to the tip of your nose and you scowled. 

“Ever think that maybe he’s just scared?”

Your frown deepened and you stared down at your friend, lips parted at the absurdity of her question. 

“What?” You scoffed. “I’ve watched him take down a demogorgon with a baseball bat, Robin, the boy isn’t scared of much anymore-”

“He also got his heart broken by the first girl he told he loved,” Robin interrupted. “He dates girls that he isn’t really interested in, that are the complete opposite of you. His folks are never around, he’s made his own family out of his friends.”

You swallowed, throat suddenly feeling thick, your chest tight. 

“You're probably the most constant thing in his life, y’know,” she mused, voice unbearably soft. The girl brought a hand up to tuck a stand of your hair behind your ear, the gesture fond. “He’s always had you, maybe he’s just scared to fuck things up and lose you.”

You couldn’t say anything. You didn't want to. ‘Cause that stupid burn was scratching at your eyes again, at the back of your throat and you were so done with crying, you were so over pushing your face into your pillow to dry your face.

Robin sat up suddenly, stretching and bending down to pull on her shoes. She popped another piece of chocolate in her mouth before smacking a kiss to your cheek and you were still silent, bundled up between pillows and blankets in bed. 

“Talk to him, babe,” she told you, heading for the door without any other goodbye, “ I’m sure he’s got a lot to say.”

Fuck. 

You picked and put down your phone six times before you decided to pull on your shoes and start walking. It didn’t take long to walk from yours to the Harrington’s, but you moved at a snail's pace, playing tightrope along the edge of the sidewalk before you stopped at the corner of Steve’s street, heart suddenly ready to burst from your chest. The sun started to set as you waited, hesitating. The sky turned from blue to lilac, tangerine and peach and the air became still. 

You walked up his front path, hand raised, ready to knock. 

It was a sparkler between your ribs kinda feeling, jump off a cliff kind of feeling, take a shot of tequila kind of feeling, risk fucking everything kind of feeling. 

You’d walked away from the boy, his words stuck in his throat, your name dying on his lips and now you were ready to make it up to him. ‘Cause Steve was right, whatever either of you felt, you couldn’t lose him either. 

The idea of rejection hurt, but not having Steve Harrington in your life hurt even more. 

So you knocked. 

Once, twice, three times, but no one answered. His car was in the drive, no parents to be seen and you took a deep breath before you plucked up the courage to open the door like you normally could. 

Your footsteps echoed in the large hallway and the only sound you could hear came from the backyard, the tinny sound of music playing from outside. You found him there, spread out lazy by the edge of the pool, shirt off, one leg dipped into the water and his hair messy from swimming and the leftover heat from the day. 

 Shadows from the tree branches above fell over him, cutting through the gold light, streaks of pink and rose painting his skin pretty and you stood for just a second, watching through the open patio doors. 

You tugged anxiously at the tagged hem of your shorts, the T-shirt you’d tucked into it suddenly feeling too constricting and you wanted to pull at the collar, you wanted to take off running again, because the sight of him hurt. 

Before you could step out into the last patch of sun, Steve sat up, muscles flexing, pool water swirling and he froze, lips parted and staring at you. 

It had only been four days since you’d last seen him, but it felt like far too much time had passed. You hadn’t gone that long without him in years, not since your parents told you that they were taking you to Utah to spend a summer with your grandparents. They’d cut the trip short by two weeks, aggravated and done with their fifteen year old daughter who didn’t shut up about how much she kissed her best friend. 

Yearly trips to the lake house with the Harrington’s resumed the summer after that. 

The boy whispered your name as if he’d scare you off and he sounded tired, sounded a little broken, just like Robin had said. 

You lifted your hand in an awkward wave, stepping out into the yard and into the streak of sun that stretched across the patio. It warmed you, skin lit up, a golden glow slanting over both of you and even from where you stood, Steve’s eyes looked like honey. 

“Hey.”

He stood, a hand raking through his still damp hair, making it even messier than usual and he mimicked you, hand raised, wingers waggling shyly, as if you hadn’t known each other for seventeen years. 

“I was just coming to see you,” Steve admitted and he sounded as nervous as you felt. “I tried calling you. A lot.”

You nodded, feeling guilty and it burned at your chest. “I know, I’m sorry.”

Steve nodded, bare foot scuffling against the slabs and you wanted to crawl back into your bed, already feeling defeated. It wasn’t supposed to feel like this with Steve. 

“I was gonna come round, you know,” Steve started again, gesturing to you, he looked lost, a little helpless. “Before now I mean… I just- I didn’t wanna upset you and you didn’t answer the phone so I just,” he shrugged, looking at the pool instead of you. “I didn’t wanna upset you any more.”

Almost silence; the trickle of the pool filter, the buzz of insects, the sway of the wind in the tree branches. 

And then, “I’ve missed you,” Steve said, voice softer than before. “A lot.”

You let out the breath you didn’t know you’d been holding then, feet moving forward and you let yourself fall into one of the loungers, a space beside the pool that was so overly familiar. 

You looked at the boy then, and god, he was the last cherry popsicle, he was sunshine, he was summer, he was full of promises and all your secrets, he was late nights and early mornings, first crushes and last kisses. 

“I’ve missed you too,” you told him, voice hurting with sincerity. 

It seemed to be all the boy needed to surge into action, because he relaxed at your admission, moving to the other lounger so he could sit across from you, bare knees almost bumping and he was leaning forward, invading your senses and he smelled like chlorine and sunscreen, mint and cedar and boy and summer and Steve. 

“Why’d you leave?”

“I’m sorry,” you told him, eyes suddenly filling with tears because you were so embarrassed by it all. From your outburst to your storming away, leaving the boy sitting confused after he’d come to get you. “I just- I couldn’t sit there and handle the rejection, I never should have said anything, it was so stupid of me-”

You were stopped by his hand reaching out and covering your own, that familiar warmth of his fingers twisting between yours, a wide, rough palm, calloused on your own. 

You looked at him, cheeks warm with your ramblings and he sighed, affection radiating from him as he gazed at you. He didn’t look confused this time, or panicked. Maybe a little bit scared but there was something else there and it shone a little brighter. 

“Sweetheart, I never once tried to reject you,” Steve huffed out a soft laugh, “shit, I don’t think I could if my life depended on it.”  

“What?” You froze, brows knitting together as you replayed the same conversation you both had in the car and you shook your head, confused. “You literally told me I was your best friend, Steve, that you couldn’t lose me.”

“And that’s true!” He burst out, “you just never let me finish!”

He sighed, using his free hand to scrub over his face and he took a deep breath before he faced you again. 

“I panicked.” He said it so simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I’m so sorry babe but I fuckin’ panicked. You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to hear those words from you, you can’t even fucking imagine how long. I just didn’t wanna mess it up, I couldn’t. I couldn’t risk not having you.” 

A sound of surprise left your lips at his words and you wanted to laugh at the irony of them, ‘cause yes, yes could imagine. But you kept quiet, letting the boy speak, making up for how you didn’t last time. You squeezed his hand instead, hoping it was reassuring enough. 

You watched him lick his lips as he thought about his next words and your brows rose when he suddenly moved, kneeling in front of you and tapping at your knee, silently asking for you to spread your legs and let him in. You did, almost embarrassed by the lack of hesitation on your par but Steve moved into the space tour created for him, suddenly too close. 

You exhaled a little slower, could count the new freckles on his nose, could see the small scar that cut through his brow, the one you gave him when you were seven and pillow fights got too boisterous. 

He smoothed his hands up and down your thighs, a touch that brought comfort and he took another deep breath, readying himself for what he wanted to tell you. 

“I’ve been in love with you since we were sixteen,” he said slowly, each word dropping like an atom bomb and you wondered if the earth was shaking. “Maybe longer, I was probably too stupid to work it out before then.”

You let out a disbelieving laugh and Steve grinned at the sound. 

“It took me a little while,” he admitted, gaze lowering as if he were suddenly shy, “I didn’t know the difference between loving you and being in love with you. You’ve been in my life for as long as I can remember.”

His fingers found the frayed hem of your shorts, twisting the strands between his fingers absentmindedly. 

“I remember Nancy telling me that, uh,” he cleared his throat, words catching on his lips with nerves and hesitation, “she uh, told me that I didn’t love her like I thought I did. That I was in love with someone else.”

You inhaled sharply, remembering the girl telling you something similar that day on the bench. You’d been confused and a little irritated at her, defensive maybe, now that you looked back on it. You remembered the way she twisted her lips to hide a grin that she didn’t want to annoy you with, eyes all too knowing. 

“I kinda realised then,” Steve nodded, eyes finding yours from under his lashes and god, you wondered when his face had moved so close to yours. “She was totally right, I just didn’t really wanna admit it.”

“Why not?” You asked, voice a little sad, ‘cause that had been years ago, and you felt overlooked, like so many missed opportunities had passed you both by and god, were the two of you really that stupid?

“I was stupid!” Steve burst out and you laughed, a little sad with watery eyes but shit, you were too. “So I kept dating random girls, anyone, really. Tried to take my mind off you, tried to forget about you in my bed.”

God, the memory made you burn. 

“I didn’t know what to do,” he whispered, still leaning into you, eyes closed like he was at confession. “Asking you out on a date seemed so ridiculous when I already know you better than anyone else.”

Your nose grazed Steve’s, and you let out a small sigh because as much as you were hurt by it all, you understood. You and Steve had seen every movie there was to see, had taken trips out of town to every concert, spent too many evenings at burger joints and ice cream parlours. You probably wouldn’t have guessed you were on a date with the boy unless he was in a tux and there was a chandelier above you. 

And that seemed like a big ask. 

“I would’ve loved to go on a date with you,” you said anyway, cause the idea of Steve pulling up outside your door with flowers in his hand gave you butterflies, tugging at your heart in a way that made you warm. 

“Yeah?” He smiled, blinding and it only widened when you nodded. 

He moved impossibly closer still, cheek to cheek so he could find your ear with his lips, hands moving to your thighs, thumbs rubbing circles on the inside. 

“I spent so long tryin’ to work up the courage to ask you to be my girlfriend,” his admission sounded like his biggest secret yet and you held your breath as he whispered it to you. “So long that years passed and we got older and suddenly the word ‘girlfriend’ didn’t seem enough.”

It was strange, but you knew what Steve meant. The word seemed too arbitrary, too normal, to describe the relationship you had with each other, how you felt about the other. 

“I know,” you told him, voice just as soft and quiet as his. “I’d still like to be yours though.”

His grin was contagious, warmer than the sun that was starting to set, brighter than the rays on the pool and you swore the world was spinning a little faster in excitement, as if the planets and the moon were just as happy as you were. 

“Yeah?” He asked, low and rough, nose pressing to your cheek, lips just brushing yours. 

You nodded, eyes fluttering closed, waiting, wanting.  

“Can we always be this close?” Steve asked, and you melted a little at the question, at that soft sincerity he always managed to give you. 

“Yeah, god, please,” you answered and your voice sounded a little husky, a little pleading because you couldn’t imagine anything else. “Can you kiss me, now?”

The boy swore under his breath, the curse mixing with a huff of laughter and he smiled against you, mouth pressing happy to your cheek and you beamed at him, lashes tickling his skin, both of you warm against the other. 

“Could never really figure out how to say no to you, y’know that?” He whispered, as if he was giving away a secret. Steve let his lips hover over yours, his hands wrapping around the small of your back, fingers playing with your belt loops, pulling you flush with him. Your hands smoothed over his bare chest and around his neck, skin hot with the sun, with being near you. 

“Can I take you on a date?” 

Something bloomed inside of you, wildflowers between your ribs, a new day of summer, a heatwave in your chest. 

“If I say yes, will you kiss me?” you asked, a little bratty, a little teasing. You’d waited so long for both, you didn’t know what you wanted first.

But then Steve was pushing into you, lips pressing down onto your own, his hand along the underside of your jaw as he used his thumb to push a little under your chin, tilting you up to his mouth so he could lick into you, adoration pouring into you. You felt the way he loved you, like the way everyone else saw it. It still felt new, his lips on yours, new in an exciting way, new in a ‘god, I could get used to this’ way.

“Lemme take you on a date,” he said again, a smile on his lips, pressing it to yours and his voice was sunshine but rougher, even warmer and it made you smile that cheek hurting kinda smile.

You nodded. 

“You still my best friend, Harrington?” 

Steve pulled back to look at you, eyes shining. “That and more, sweetheart.” And when he said that, it felt enough. ‘More’.

“You still gonna protect me from everything bad and scary?” You nudged the tip of your nose to his, voice sweet. 

“With everything I have in me,” he answered honestly, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth, catching your laughter. “Baseball bat and all.”

“Promise you won’t break my heart?” You asked, forehead to his, eyes full of every emotion you felt. Love, excitement, fear, hope, nervousness, adoration. 

“Promise you won’t break mine?” Steve whispered back, a hand on your cheek, thumb grazing over your lip. 

“I promise,” you told him, hands gripping right at his shoulders, running across the nape of his neck, diving into his hair. 

“I promise,” he repeated, and shit, you believed him.