triggers will be mentioned for each story individually.
Borrowed and blue + ( x female reader)
Steve, having enough of his father’s constant disapproval, needs to move out of his parents’ house. Reader is back in town after having inherited the old record store on main street, only she has no place to stay. Eddie, being friends with both, brings the two together and offers a solution. Though neither of them can afford a place by themselves, together they make enough to rent a little house at the edge of Hawkins. Follow the two as the navigate life together and deal with the feelings that arise eventually.
Part 1 - Fall || Part 2 - Winter (coming soon)
Blue Memories ( x female reader)
Eddie and Reader are strangers turned friends turned lovers turned exes. We follow them on one really tense car ride and experience the ups and downs of their relationship through the songs playing on the radio.
Summary: Steve is given his dad’s auto repair shop after Mr. Harrington up and leaves Hawkins. Things go semi-great and soon enough Steve and his coworkers (Eddie and Billy) need to come up with a plan to earn some money on the side to keep the shop going. Good thing they are all hot and willing to put on a show. Stripper!AU
This is part 1 of 3 - Steve’s part
Pairing: Steve Harrington x female Reader (nicknamed reader, little use of Y/N)
Trigger Warning: Swearing. Mention of alcohol. Mention of food. Mention of sexual acts but no full on smut. This is a stripper AU. Billy Hargrove is mentioned in this part though he’s barely in it.
Wordcount: 8.8k
A/N: Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please
Not a single soul in the small town of Hawkins was particularly surprised when Thomas Harrington finally had enough, sold his car dealership, and went off to go live with his second not-so-secret family somewhere in Oregon. Least of all his son Steve.
What came as quite a shock though, was the letter the Harrington patriarch left behind. The one that said sorry, to Steve not to his wife, and that came with the ownership papers of Harrington Auto repairs, the auto body shop that his dad had acquired a while back but never got around to opening. The one that was meant to go hand in hand with the dealership.
"I know you're good with cars and bad at selling things, so have the garage instead of the dealership. If you want to open it, that would make me proud and if you want to sell it, that's okay too. It's yours."
As much as Steve hated to admit it, his dad was right and he probably knew him better than Steve had ever realized. He was good with cars but an absolute failure when it comes to selling stuff to people. Ice cream, family video membership cards, himself. He'd never get anyone to buy a freaking car.
He could fix them though. And he knew people who do too. People who needed jobs. People he wants to strangle at the best of times but that he calls his friends anyway.
Eddie was easy to rope in, the boy was as excitable as a golden retriever. And while he wasn't super enthusiastic about working a full-time job, the pay and the fact that he got to work on cars all day made it worth it for him.
Billy was a bit harder of a case to crack. Him and Steve having a bit of a strained relationship was the first obstacle. The second was the fact that Billy was a bit of an asshole. Self-centered, with an ego the size of a small country, vain, and a little bit aggressive.
But Billy was good. He knew a shit ton about cars and how to fix even the worst of the worst.
It took a lot of groveling from Steve. A promise of good pay and the agreement to rent out the flat above the garage to him for Billy to come on board.
That was two years ago. Two years of hard work. Of sweat and (secret) tears and fighting and celebrating. Two hard but good years.
Things have changed - for better and worse.
Billy is less of an asshole now. He still has his moment but his anger doesn't cloud all of his judgment anymore. Now he's mostly just a smartass with a big ego. It's crazy what getting a kid out of a bad home can do.
At this point, Steve might even consider him a good friend, though he'll never admit it. Ever.
That's the change for the better.
The shop though, that's barely scraping by. Bills are at an all-time high. Customers come in but with the low prices and relying mostly on locals, funds are limited.
"Eddie, that looks great!" Steve's voice echoes through the room. His eyes are fixed on the shiny blue Mercedes, an intricate silver design painted onto its side.
Turns out Eddie is not just a great mechanic but an artist on top. What started as a fun way to pass the time and something that Eddie had expected to stay a fully self-indulgent hobby, has quickly turned into a somewhat lucrative extra income for the garage.
"Yeah? I got these new spray paints in. The silver really pops against the dark blue."
"Looks great, man" Steve exclaims and gives the man an appreciative pat on the back, earning him a grin in return. Eddie thrives on praise. Golden retriever that he is.
"Hey, have you seen Hargrove? I need to know if Mrs. Hackman's Escort will be done this week.
"Oh, it's done." There's a teasing edge in Eddie's voice that both amuses and terrifies Steve.
"He fixed it already? I thought he was aiming for the end of the week. Wow, that was quick."
"Mmh, " Eddie responds and nods his head in the direction of the front desk where Billy is happily talking to the aforementioned Mrs. Hackman. He's got that saccharine smile on display, all teeth and dimples. All fake.
If there is one thing undeniable about Billy Hargrove, it's the fact that he is disarmingly charming. With his blue eyes and golden locks, he turns everyone's head. Man or woman.
Especially women though. Middle-aged ones to be exact. Like Mrs. Hackman.
And when at first he kind of hated it. Felt used and dirty and uncomfortable with it, Billy has long ago realized that there's some money to make there. A smile means a tip, some flirting means an even bigger tip.
It's all pros and cons in life you just have to decide what outweighs the other.
Eddie lets out a huff, blowing a strand of curls away from his face. It's a terribly hot summer in Indiana this year. All, clothes sticking to your skin and air feeling heavy, kind of hot.
They're all struggling through the heat but while Steve's hair is still looking fairly reasonable, Eddie looks a bit like a wet poodle.
"The AC bring broken is killing me, Harrington."
"I know. I know, me too. I'll — I'll go see what Bunny says."
He finds himself glancing at the closed door to the office at the top of the stairs. He can just imagine Bunny, their secretary, and the smartest person in this workplace, sitting by her desk palming her face in frustration.
Sitting there looking absolutely breathtakingly gorgeous as ever, trying to get them out of this sinking ship, to keep the shop afloat.
She's way too good for them, he's always thought so and probably always will. Which makes him even more grateful that she chooses to stick by them no matter what.
Maybe it's because she's Steve's oldest friend, basically his second half since kindergarten. Maybe she's got masochistic tendencies.
Whatever it is, he doesn't mind as long as she doesn't abandon them.
"Well," Eddie's voice shakes Steve from his thoughts "go ask her now because I'm literally about to die."
"You're being dramatic."
"You won't be saying that when I'm dead and stinking up the place."
"Okay, okay.'' Enough with the theatrics. I'm going."
With an overdramatic roll of his eyes, Steve pushes away from the car and drags his feet up the stairs, entering the office after giving the wooden door a swift rapt of his knuckles.
"Close the door! I don't want the hot air to get in."
Bunny is leaning against her desk, hair clinging to sweaty skin as much as Eddie's does, as much as his own does. She's fanning herself with a piece of paper while a fan whirrs behind her, blowing lukewarm air at her.
"It's just as hot in here as it is downstairs. Actually, it might even be hotter in here, now that I think about it."
She throws a bunny-shaped eraser at him, just barely missing his head. But by ty smile tugging at her lips, he can tell she knows he's right.
It's funny, he thinks looking around the office, how one small moment can change so much about someone's life.
Had he not befriended her at 4 years old she wouldn't be here today, making sure the store is going and keeping the boys out of trouble.
Had she not worn a hoodie with bunny ears that day he might've never called her by the silly nickname that still sticks to this day. She's (Y/N) to her parents and Bunny to everyone else.
"We need to get the AC fixed. Eddie is about ready to die out there and Hargrove is from California but even he is reaching his boiling point … literally."
She laughs at the joke like he knew she would. Of all the good things about her, her sense of humor is not one of them. He loves it, means she laughs at his jokes even when they're really bad.
"I know, Steve but uh - it's not looking so good."
It's not a secret. Even though he's not too involved in dealing with the financial side of the business, as the owner Steve is well aware that they are just barely scraping by.
"Shit."
"Yeah. I'm sorry Steve. We're just able to pay the electricity bill this month, don't think we can splurge on anything else."
He nods in defeat. It feels like letting people down. Himself, the guys, his dad. Everyone.
“You think we can manage to buy a fan or two at least? You know, just to keep Munson alive.”
She looks at him with that expression in her eyes that says “we really can’t but I’ll find a way to do it”. He loves her for it, for everything she does.
“I’ll see what I can do. We really don’t want Eddie to overheat. —“ a big sigh leaves her lips before she continues. “ But Steve, it’s really not looking good. I’ve been twisting and turning and pushing around numbers for what feels like forever now. I don’t know how much longer we can go on like this.”
He knows this. No matter how much he’s trying to push it out of his mind. He is painfully aware of the shot show they’re currently in. Hearing her say it, outright and with no sugar to coat it, that’s like a dagger straight to the heart. Box cutter to the jugular.
“I’ll figure something out, I promise.”
“You always do.”
She puts an unwavering amount of faith in him. Steve is not sure he’s entirely deserving of it but he’s not gonna complain.
Thanks, Buns, you’re the best. Don’t know what I’d do without you.”
When he places a soft kiss on the top of her head, the scene of her shampoo fills his nose and takes over all his senses for a moment. She always smells so good. Warm and comforting and like — well, like home.
"What in the world is going on here?"
Loud heavy metal music echoes through the garage, it’s the one thing Eddie and Billy really can agree on. The music choice. This leaves Steve outnumbered when it comes to choosing the music being played during working hours.
It's not the music though, that confuses him, it's the fact that the boys are both shirtless as they lean against the respective cars they're working on, sipping on - water?!
Billy doesn't go out of his way to drink water usually, that boy has a sweet tooth like no other and if there's no beer there (which there isn't during working hours) he always goes for the coke. Regular, none of that watered-down, nasty-tasting diet crap.
And Eddie? Eddie eats and drinks like a 10-year-old. Soda or Juice are just fine but water? That's new.
"It's crazy hot in here, Harrington. Be glad it's just the shirts, Munson was this close to taking off his pants too," Billy jokes, indicating a tiny space between his fingers.
"Yup but I didn't want to make you guys jealous of my great ass. I know it's hard enough measuring up to a shirtless me."
"Whatever you say chicken breast."
Laughter echoes through the hall as Billy twirls the dirty rag, he uses to wipe the grease off his hands, into a tight knot only to land it against Eddie's chest with a loud snap.
It's not always been like this. Fun and full of laughter. Their beginnings were awkward to say the least, neither of the boys was particularly fond of the others. But they've grown on Steve, even Billy. They're somewhat of a little family right now. Brotherly teasing and rivalries included.
"Wow, there are people out there who would pay a lot of money to watch this."
Robin's voice cuts through the boyish laughter and makes 3 heads turn in her direction.
"This," she continues and waves her hand between the boys " I mean. You guys, half-naked, dancing or playing or whatever it is you're doing. Some people would pay money to see this. Not me - but I'm sure there's someone out there. "
"Are you here for another free oil change? You know you're my best friend but at some point, I'm gonna have to start charging."
"Calm down Steve, what do you take me for? No, I'm here for Bunny actually. I gotta return some records she let me borrow. So don't let me interrupt your - whatever session. Keep going, gentleman".
With a mock salute, she pushes past the boys and continues her way up the stairs and into the office. All that's heard before the door falls back into place is a loud "close the door! The cool air is getting out!".
He loves that the girls are getting along. His girls. The two people he trusts with his life. The first time he brought Robin around was nerve-wracking and sent his anxiety through the roof. For no reason, really. The girls got on like a house on fire. Now it's like they've known each other their whole life.
"Steve?" Eddie shakes him from his daydream. There's an edge to his voice now, a seriousness and sincerity Steve hasn't heard before.
"Yeah?"
"I think I have an idea."
"Huh? What do you mean?"
"The shop needs extra funds, right? I think I have an idea of how we can make more money."
“Do you know why we’re here?” Bunny asks as she shuffles into the garage long after store closing, Robin and Nancy following behind her with quick steps.
By the expression on their faces, she doesn’t even need them to answer. The same confusion she’s feeling is looking back at her.
“Steve just said it’s important and that it’s about the shop.”
“Well, that’s more information than I got. Eddie just called me and said they needed my opinion on something then hung up before I could even reply,” Robin explains.
“They? As in Steve, Eddie, and — “
“ — and me! “
Billy grants the girls one of his million-dollar smiles. The one where his eyes twinkle and you wonder what kind of secrets are hidden in the corner of his lips. Not that it works on either of the girls. Especially now that they are all way too confused and focused on the huge elephant in the room.
“Why are you wearing a suit?”
“It’s all part of tonight’s entertainment. Would you ladies follow me to your seats?”
“Seats? Entertainment? “
Bunny isn’t sure he even takes notice of her questions, if he does he chooses to ignore them as he silently leads them further into the room to where 3 chairs are placed neatly in a row.
“Please take your seats, the show is about to start.”
A questioning glance passes between the girls. Nevertheless, they do as told and sit down just before Billy hands each of them what seems to be a leaflet of some kind. Though it’s hard to tell since he hands it to them with the print pointing down.
“ You can turn this around as soon as I leave you to it. Please just — just wait. “ His cool suave image slips for a second before his lips pull back into the familiar cocky smirk “now enjoy the show. “
He has the audacity to wink at them. What the hell is going on?
“What is this about?” Nancy asks as the girls turn the papers around, almost moving in sync.
In big bold letters, the flyer reads:
This one’s for the ladies!
Witness Hawkins’ Hottest:
King Steve
Billy the kid
& Mr. Hellfire.
“So wait, are they gonna put on a play or dance or what? “
Robin’s chuckles cut through the confusion and, between long wheezes of laughter, she forms the words: “Holy shit, I think they’re gonna strip.”
Before Bunny’s brain can even begin to comprehend the information that just tumbled from Robin’s lips, the lights dim, and the beginning guitar chords of Def Leppard’s “Pour some sugar on me” fill the room.
One after the other, the boys step onto a makeshift stage put together from old wooden palettes. All of them wearing suits, a sight the girls are far from used to. Sure Steve’s worn a suit before on several occasions but Billy and Eddie?
Though none of that really matters right then. All Bunny can focus on, is the rhythmic though out-of-sync rotation of the boy’s hips. There’s a lot of hip thrusting from all of them, suggestive winks from Billy, and what can only be described as borderline obscene tongue movements from Eddie.
Hands are tracing down their necks, their chests. The suit jackets go first, then the bowties, then their hands grab onto their respective buttons up and in the matter of a blink three naked chests are on full display.
Though if Bunny is being serious, neither Billy nor Eddie are at the receiving end of her attention.
Steve looks otherworldly in the shine of whatever cheap lights the guys have dragged out here for their little show. All perfectly shaped muscles. He must’ve shaved for this and though she doesn’t mind his usually hairy chest, this just makes it easier to see all of him. Every dip and every ridge.
There used to be a time when seeing Steve shirtless was just that. Seeing her friend shirtless, no biggie. That changed around the time she turned 15 and suddenly it wasn’t just Steve being shirtless anymore. Now it’s the subject of all her sleepless nights, all her inappropriate thoughts, and all those times she finds herself alone with her hands under the covers.
He is cut from marble. Made to represent the best a man can be.
When his hands move to the belt buckle, and he looks at her directly, Bunny thinks she might just die. Right then and there. A one-way ticket to heaven. Or maybe hell, she can’t be too sure about this. The thoughts running through her head right now, sure don’t seem appropriate to have when passing through the pearly gates.
“I'm hot, sticky sweet
From my head to my feet, yeah”
And then the pants are gone and she’s dying a slow and painful death.
He looks so good. Like she could eat him up right there and he’d taste like the sweetest poison.
Robin's laughter mixes with the music, a melody of chaos and joy. She's having the time of her life and Bunny is sure she'll never let the boys forget about this. This will be her "remember when" card for the rest of all their lives.
Nancy is just quiet, hand going to her face every once in a while, shielding her eyes from what she could potentially see. It's not like this is anything new. She's seen Steve this way before and though Bunny hates to admit it - Nancy is her friend after all - the thought does leave a bitter taste of jealousy in her mouth.
While the girls are caught between shock, amusement, and — whatever it is Bunny is feeling at the moment, the boys take this whole thing with a surprising amount of seriousness. There are teasing smirks on their faces, masks of pure confidence, and a banner of determination and courage that seems to wrap around them.
This is a serious strip show and they make it abundantly clear. If there was ever a doubt in the girls' minds, it is being wiped away completely when the underwear goes. Those shiny black bottoms that seemed entirely too tight for either of them. Bunny wonders if Steve bought them specifically for this or had them already stuffed into the back of his underwear drawer.
That’s the moment Nancy’s eyes go wide, almost threatening to pop right out of her head. The moment Robin covers her face, laughter turns into amused shrieks. And the moment Bunny thinks her heart might stop altogether.
It's not like they get to see — anything. The boys make sure to cover everything with both hands. Both hands. But still, it's hard to look at the man that owns half of your heart, the recipient of your undying affection, standing there completely naked, and not die a little.
The song comes to an end and Robin, still in a fit of giggles, starts applauding, Nancy following soon after. It's the first time that night that the guys let their act drop and a certain sense of insecurity fills them as they quickly scurry off to throw on some robes. Those ropes, Bunny is sure they bought specifically for today. They're all silky and shiny. Ridiculous if not a tiny bit endearing.
"What the everloving hell was that?" Robin questions as the boys make their way back toward the line of chairs.
"That, " Steve exclaims and clears his throat as if to fill his voice with determination, " is our chance to keep the garage going."
"You're going to strip for the customers?"
"We're going to strip for whoever books us."
This is all too much all at once for Bunny to properly process. Steve has had many crazy ideas over the years, a lot of delusional thoughts. More now that he's hanging out with Eddie and Billy who all have 0 impulse control.
None of those ideas ever came close to this. It's on a whole nother plane of existence really. And the worst part? Bunny thinks the boys might be onto something.
"Wait, let me get this straight. You guys want to start a stripping business?"
"Yes, Wheeler. That's exactly the plan. Everything we earn on group booking goes to the shop. Everything from individual jobs goes to the funds for our own special projects. Like paints for me, car radio stuff for Billy. In the end, it all ends up helping the shop."
Eddie talks about the plan with childlike enthusiasm. It’s quite amusing considering the topic of the discussion. Though his words make the gears in Bunny’s head turn. This might not be the worst of all ideas.
“So — Robin asks, swallowing another laugh, “ I hate to ask this but where do we come in? “
“Well, you — “ Billy replies and points and Nancy “are here because you’re part of our target audience. We wanna know if you think this is something that could be successful. You —” he continues now pointing at Robin “are just here because we knew you’d love making fun of us for this and you’d be pissed if we didn’t invite you.”
“What about me?”
It’s the first time Bunny speaks up since the show started. The words feel heavy on her tongue.
“ Oh, you —”
“We want you to be our manager.” Steve's voice cuts Billy off mid-sentence.
Manager? It’s then when it really settles in how serious the guys are. There’s a look on Steve’s face she’s only ever seen a handful of times. No joking around to be detected. He told her he’d figure out a way to keep the shop going and this is his solution. It’s maybe a bit unconventional and not at all anything she’d have ever expected but it’s a solution nonetheless.
“Your manager?”
Steve’s eyes connect with hers, full of hope and uncertainty all at once. He seems to be almost pleading — not with words just with looks. This means more to him than just a silly little idea with his friends. This is his last chance.
“We need someone to help us out here. You know how shit we are at keeping our appointments in order. How unorganized and messy we are. How much we suck at financials and numbers and all that. We need you. “
“And you think this might actually work?”
Nancy’s voice cuts through the tension. “This might actually not be the worst idea. A lot of girls that I went to High School with got married last year and they all wanted a stripper at their bachelorette parties. But — well the choice was limited.”
“You sure you want to end up stripping for people you went to Highschool with?”
Bunny raises an eyebrow in question.
“I mean yeah, that might happen. We want to advertise mostly around Hawkins so not directly here. Just to avoid any awkwardness. But that’s also a reason we wanted to try this out on you. If we can do this for our best friends without dying of embarrassment then —”
“You guys really want to do this?”
All of them answer with a determined nod of their heads. There is uncertainty there but not about trying. No one can know the outcome of this but neither of them is afraid of trying. For the one thing they all helped build. For their shop.
“Well, I guess I can’t let you do this by yourselves then, huh? You need someone to keep you in line.”
The smile Steve grants her as he realizes she’s in sends Bunny’s heart racing. It’s ridiculous to be so in love with your lifelong best friend. Ridiculous and hopeless and dumb. Agreeing to manage his business where he will get undressed in front of a bunch of ladies sounds like a surefire way to break your own heart. But isn’t that the fundamentals of the human experience? Isn’t that love? Putting your own heart on the line for someone else’s happiness?
“We really do need you.”
“Okay then, guess I’m in.”
Before the words even fully leave her lips, Bunny is already tackled into a hug. Steve is not a hugger, never was. It’s a side effect of growing up with emotionally absent parents who’d rather give you a new car than a hug. So Steve's hugs are always special. A perfect little cherry on top of every cake.
He’s so warm and he smells like sweat and too much body spray. It’s disgusting but she can’t fault him for it, that man just put on the performance of his life, danced his ass off, and stripped down both literally and emotionally.
It also reminds her of all the times hanging out with him after basketball training. The best times.
“Thank you, Buns.”
And maybe she pulls him a little bit tighter. No one has to know.
“So,” Eddie speaks up as they pull away from the hug. “What do you say, manager? How did we do?”
“Well, glad you asked. If you wanna do this, we’re doing it right. You guys came up with names, now we gotta make them a character. King Steve? I’m getting you a crown and maybe we can also make use of that little sailor uniform of yours. You — “ Bunny snaps her finger and points it at Billy “get out those tiny red shorts you used to flaunt around in at the pool, I know you still got those somewhere, don’t even try to deny it. Maybe some sunglasses too.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“And you, Mr. Hellfire.”
“Mmmh?”
“ How do we feel about some devil horns?”
Word spreads fast in Hawkins, that’s not surprising. People are so damn curious about other people’s business and no one keeps their mouth shut — ever.
What is surprising, is that a small stack of flyers, just 50 of them, hung up in clubs and bars around Hawkins, leads to 5 bookings for Hawkins Hottest not even 3 weeks after the idea took seed.
The first one is a group performance. A group of girls books them to surprise their friend at her bachelorette party. It takes place in a small apartment just outside of Carmel and the stage is a living room barely big enough for all 3 men and the spectators. But they make it work. They have fun. It’s a good chance to gain confidence. To really settle into their roles.
And the pay is good. Good enough to buy 3 fans for the shop. A move that put Steve forever in Eddie’s good books.
The second one is a bit of a bigger performance. An all-female bowling team book them for their 25-year anniversary party held at a venue just an hour north of Hawkins.
Those ladies are scary in a way that Steve doesn’t even attempt to describe. Scary in a way that is fascinating and a little uncomfortable. But the job gets done and the pay is once again great.
Bunny is there with them, always. Steve wonders what he ever did to deserve her. Her unwavering support. The faith she puts in him, displaced but appreciated. Her kindness, patience, and trust.
She’s the one doing all the dirty work. Advertisement, bookings, financials. She makes sure the boys get to where they need to be on time. She books hotel rooms if needed. She provides snacks for the ride. She helps with costumes and makeup and sound and lighting. She does 12 jobs at once and she never complains. She just smiles and sometimes when Steve feels a little anxious on stage and looks for her in the crowd or backstage, she’s always there to offer him the encouragement he needs. She is everything.
“So … are you ever gonna tell Harrington how you feel or are we all taking it to the grave?”
Eddie has a big mouth and no filter. Sometimes that’s funny, hilarious even. It makes for great icebreakers and exciting conversations. Sometimes his big mouth plucks a secret straight from your brain that you didn’t even know was there in the first place. And he presents it to the world. Those times his big mouth is less funny. Those times it scares Bunny.
"Not sure what you're insinuating here, Munson."
Her eyes involuntarily search for Steve across the room. His chest is on display, a shirt hanging loosely from his shoulder, unbuttoned and almost teasing. The boys are about to go on stage in just a few minutes and while Eddie is all cool and collected, Steve always gets a little nervous. He's a bit of a perfectionist, Bunny has realized lately. Not always, but about the important things. Especially when his future and the future of his shop are at stake.
"Mmmh. Of course, you don't. Not like you're undressing him with your eyes right this second."
"Eddie," she lets out a mix between a scoff and a chuckle "I've seen you guys strip nearly every night lately. I don't need to undress him, he's doing it himself.”
“So do I and you never looked at me like that, or Billy. Just good old Steve over there. I’ve deducted —”
“You haven’t deducted anything.”
“Just saying, I’m picking up some vibes here.”
“Eddie —” Bunny says and fixes him with what she attempts to be a serious glare but probably ends up making her look as intimidating as a literal bunny rabbit “ — stop it. Go get some oil on that chest of yours, you guys are about to go on stage.”
Stage. A real actual stage this time.
The club they have been booked to perform at is small, smaller even than the hideout. It’s a bit grimy, with lots of mismatched furniture. Ripped concert posters line the wall and the dressing rooms smell like bleach and cheap air freshener. But it’s a stage! A real stage in front of an audience that paid an entry fee to see them specifically. It’s amazing to think that they’ve been given this chance only such a short time after starting this whole crazy idea. Sometimes it feels unreal. Like none of this is really happening. Maybe because it’s hard to explain to people. This insane whirlwind of an idea they’ve all willingly jumped into is not only working, it’s also fun. Most of them won't understand. Most of them will just judge.
It doesn’t matter though. It never did.
None of it really matters when she looks at the boys as they perform their stage show. An immeasurable amount of pride fills her heart. This is something that quickly becomes more than either of them thought it could be. A spark turning into a raging fire.
They’re all good, surprisingly. Stripped both figuratively and literally of everything. They are their characters and they’re putting on one hell of a show.
The room is filled with a sizzling static, a euphoric atmosphere. It’s sexy and fun and mesmerizing all at once.
Steve looks good enough to eat as he moves around on stage. Dipped in hues of pink and red and orange as the stage lights capture him, it’s quite the vision and not unlike some of the scenes from Bunny’s most intimate, most secret dreams.
The baby oil that the boys have lathered onto themselves earlier, leaves a shiny gleam on his pecks. He looks delectable. For a moment she wants to scold herself for these thoughts, this is Steve. HER Steve. But isn’t this the point of all of this? These feelings of desire and lust and passion? Isn’t this what they want to awaken in their audience?
So what if the audience is Bunny of all people.
He’s meant for greatness even if no one ever made him believe so. She knows it. Maybe that greatness is found on this stage. Or maybe it’s in whatever he chooses to do. Maybe it’s simply him.
A few weeks later
“Are you nervous?”
Her hand feels so warm as she rests it on his shoulder.
It’s his first solo performance. The first time someone booked just him. Not him — King Steve.
A 21st birthday. All the way in the big city of Indianapolis.
This time it’s all on him whether the show is a hit or a failure. If he fucks this up, he fucks it up for all of them. Himself and Eddie and Billy — and Bunny.
Bunny who is sweet enough to drive to Indianapolis with him. To stay in a hotel room with him for the night because it’ll be too late to drive all the way back to Hawkins after the show.
He can’t feed off of Eddie’s dramatic energy or Billy’s sense of seduction. Just himself and the character he is trying to create for his stripper self.
“A bit yeah.”
“You’ll do great, Steve. I just know it.”
He finds her eyes over his shoulder in the hotel mirror. There is no doubt in her. No one has ever believed in him like this. Not even his own goddamn parents.
“What if I fuck up?”
“You won’t!”
“But what if I do?”
This is his last chance. This needs to work. There is no room for error when every little mistake could mean having to close the shop. He loves that shop even though he never thought he would. Never saw himself as a mechanic. But this is so much more. This is his baby. His home away from home. His friends are there. Bunny is there.
And though it’s silly and dumb, he also wants to make his father proud. Even though his dad doesn’t deserve it. Even though he’s a huge asshole. Steve wants to make the shop work to make his dad proud.
“Steve, they booked you for a reason.”
“It’s because of the hair.”
“No, it’s not because of the hair, you dork. It’s because you’re good at this.”
He is. It’s not really something society allows you to take pride in but Steve can’t deny that he’s quite alright at stripping and putting on a show. He still wishes the boys were here too.
“You wanna go over the routine again? Would that help?”
“Maybe.”
“Okay, let’s do it then!”
Before he knows it, ZZ Top’s “I need you tonight” comes from the boombox they brought, perched on the desk in the corner of the Hotel room.
Bunny sits down on the end of the bed, hands resting by her side and digging into the soft, blue comforter.
The encouraging smile she gives him makes him want to melt right then and there. He wonders if she knows just how much she means to him. When he said they couldn’t do this without her, he meant it. She is the beginning and the end of it all.
He goes through all the moves as if his body works on autopilot. A swing of the hip, a turn, a twist. His brain doesn’t have to work to recall the choreography, it comes naturally.
He doesn’t really register any of that. All he can see is her. Her eyes and her lips and her hands fisting the sheets. Her eyes. Her lips. Her hands. Her.
The show continues as it would in front of the actual audience. Only it’s not the birthday girl he’s getting close to, it’s Bunny.
It’s her body heat radiating he can feel as he stands before her and opens the buttons of his shirt leaving him bare. It’s her hand he takes to trail down his chest, to feel every dip and groove and ripple. It’s her perfume he smells.
Her eyes. Her lips. Her hands.
Her.
This is not in the performance. Being this close. Feeling her nose against his, her breath mingle with his. None of what he’s feeling right now is scripted. The tingles in his fingers. The racing of his heart.
“Bunny, I — “
If the universe wants to play tricks on him, Steve doesn’t think they’re very funny. A shrill ringing sounds from the alarm clock on the bedside table making the two snap away from each other, breaking the spell and dropping them back into reality.
Steve doesn’t feel like laughing at the universe right now.
“I um — I set the alarm to remind us when we have to leave for the gig.”
“Oh yeah. Yeah — good. Let’s uh — let’s get a move on. Chop chop.”
Chop chop? His inner voice is cringing at the words as they fall from his lips. Chop fucking chop?
She doesn’t meet his eyes while they grab their stuff, not on the way there and not as they meet up with the best friend of the birthday girl who made the booking.
It’s only when he’s about to go on stage that she grants him a smile, though it doesn’t meet her eyes. It’s missing its usual sparkle. “Break a leg.”
“I’ll do you one better, I’ll break two.”
Steve, his inner voice scolds him again, sometimes it’s better to just keep your mouth shut.
But when he hears Bunny laugh. Like really actually laugh, he thinks he might just keep talking nonsense. Her laugh is his favorite sound in all the world.
“Please don’t.”
“I’ll try not to.”
“Go get them, King Steve.”
The man on stage, that’s not her childhood best friend. The man up there is King Steve, all suave and self-assured and seductive. All the dorky qualities her Steve holds are wiped away and replaced by confidence and courage.
It’s like he is two different people at once, both the best versions of him he can be at that moment.
There’s something enchanting about watching him perform. He looks so free and liberated from all the pressure to be a certain kind of way that has been resting on his shoulders from the moment he left his mother’s womb. He gets to be whoever he decides to be.
The girls are screaming and giggling as he moves his hips. When he loses the shirt then the pants — they lose their minds.
She thought she’d feel some jealousy, watching him on stage, entertaining all these other girls. But it’s different. Some part of her is holding on to the knowledge that the version of him off stage, those girls don’t get. They know King Steve but they will never know her goofy, dorky best friend Steve. That version of him is hers and hers alone.
Red and blue lights paint every ripple and every inch of his body. He looks like a painting. A masterpiece.
“Sorry if this is disrespectful but your boyfriend is so damn hot.”
The girl standing beside her isn’t even looking at Bunny, her eyes are fixed on Steve who at this point is only in a tight pair of shorts.
“He’s not. My boyfriend I mean. No doubt he’s hot. That’s undeniable.”
That gets the girl’s attention.
“Oh so, you guys are not …”
Things would be far easier if they were. And maybe the moment in the Hotel meant nothing but what if it did? Then again, was there even a moment to begin with? Or was this all just wishful thinking clouding her thoughts?
“No, we’re just best friends. And I’m his manager.”
“Okay cool.” Bunny hates the tone the girl’s voice takes on. Hates it with every fiber of her being. The girls staring at King Steve is one thing. Having one of them show interest in the off-stage him, that’s a terrifying thought to Bunny. She looks nice though, the girl. She looks like the kind of girl Steve would go for. Nice girls who let him know they’re interested and don’t hide their feelings for years until it’s too late and break their own hearts in the process.
A loud “ooooh” washes over the crowd as Steve loses the last of the fabric covering his body. Bunny doesn’t think she’ll ever get tired of seeing him like this.
And when he looks across the group of girls and meets her eyes, he throws her a wink. That one, she knows for certain. That one is just for her from her Steve.
There’s something awfully nostalgic about sitting crisscross on the hotel bed, a can of beer in hand as Steve sits across from her with a big smile on his face, reminiscing about the show he just put on a few hours ago.
“ — and the pay? This one show is paying for the next two months' electricity.”
“You’re saving our shop, Steve.”
“Can you believe people are willing to pay that much money to see me? King fucking Steve.”
“Oh, I’m not surprised. You’re worth every penny.”
Steve scoffs at her words. He was never all that good at taking compliments, even when his ego was through the roof during their High School years.
“Wonder what my dad would think if he knew this is how I’m keeping the garage open.”
Mr. Harrington was always perfectly nice enough to Bunny. He was polite and attentive and a good host whenever she was around at the Harrington house. He asked her about her parents and made small talk about school and work and everyday life.
None of that mattered to her though. The way he treated his own son was all she needed to know to realize that he placed very low on her list of people. Steve didn’t deserve all of the weight put on him. All the degrading comments. The snarky remarks. The sour looks and scowls and scoffs.
He did the best he could, always. Steve is a good man and while he was a bit of a shithead during his teenage years, that can be chalked up to just that — being a teenager.
“Do you want me to be honest or nice?”
“Honest. Always.”
“How honest?”
“10 out of 10”
“Your dad would hate this. Because he doesn’t understand it, or the time we’re living in. And also because he hates seeing you succeed without him. It would make him have to face the fact that you are doing just fine without him. He can’t come by and say I told you so, and that would make him pissed.”
“Why does that make you smile?”
“‘cause I love pissing off your dad. He’s an asshole like no other.”
“Cheers to that”
Laughter echoes through the tiny hotel room as they clink their cans, weaving itself into a sweet harmony with the music coming from the boombox.
“Ooooh, I love this song!” Bunny announces as the opening chords of Joan Jett’s “I love Rock n Roll” fill the air.
“You know what I think?”
“What is that, Steve?”
There’s an intensity in his eyes, a sense of mischief on his lips. It’s both endearing and a bit unnerving all at once.
“You’ve seen me do my show a bunch of times now, I think it’s only fair if you dance for me this once.”
An unintentional scoff falls from her lips. For her to put on a show — to strip — for him? It’s a bizarre thought, truly absurd. He surely can’t be serious.
He is serious. It’s written on his face as unmistakable as a light-up billboard on main street.
“You kidding me, Steve?”
“Creative expression through passionate and erotic dance is not a laughing matter, Bunny.”
He laughs anyway. That full-on sunshine Steve Harrington laugh of his that makes you feel invincible and grand. Like for a second, all the bad in the world has vanished and there are good things to believe in. Like laughter and friendship and cute boys with great hair.
“Alright, you asked for it. I’m just telling you right now I can’t dance very well — oh and the underwear stays on.”
“Buzzkill!”
“Hey, hecklers will be removed from the premises!”
Steve does a zipping motion across his lips only to follow it up by throwing away an invisible key. It’s a very Steve move, no thoughts behind the action, just good intentions and unrelenting loyalty.
Bunny starts moving her body to the rhythm of the song. It’s easy enough to get lost in the music but there’s no way she can fully let go. Not with Steve watching her the way he is. She’s unable to shake the thought of making herself look laughable in front of him. Steve’s seen her in all the stages of her life, all the best and most definitely the worst, and never had Bunny felt like this. But it’s different right now. There has been a shift and this whole night feels like it could be a turning point. A crash and burn or happily ever after kind of situation.
It’s terrifying.
“Come oooon! I know you can do better than this. Go on, move those hips a little.”
Before she knows what’s happening, his hands find their place on the side of her hips, holding her tightly. His skin touching the sliver of her’s that revealed itself where her shirt rode up a little. He smells like body wash and deodorant and spearmint chewing gum. He radiates an all-consuming warmth.
Steve moves her hips in time with the music, rotating motions the way he does when he’s on stage. It feels like her body is moving on autopilot, vulnerable, and all his to do with as he pleases. His eyes lock on hers and like a magnetic pull, Bunny stares right back. Mesmerized and enchanted.
“Like that?”
“Yeah, just like that.”
He doesn’t let go, he just grabs on tighter, moves closer. There’s barely any room left between them and yet he’s not nearly close enough for Bunny’s liking.
As if he can hear her thoughts, he pulls her flush against his body, chest to chest, heart to heart. His hands stay on her sides as if they were never meant to be anywhere else.
“Tell me to stop.”
There’s a saying that the flapping of an itty-bitty butterfly's wings can cause a hurricane. Bunny always thought that was utter bullshit.
As Steve’s lips meet hers in a heated kiss, she thinks there might be a little bit of truth to the statement.
“Don’t stop!”
Two words. Two itty-bitty words and they cause a hurricane. Change everything.
It takes a blink of a moment for Bunny to forget where she ends and Steve begins, he’s all-consuming. Mind and body and soul.
She doesn’t even realize it as it happens when he picks her up and sits her down on the dresser as if she weighs nothing. Just a feather in his hand.
His kisses are hot and needy on her cheeks, her lips, her neck. Everywhere.
Bunny combs her fingers through his hair, hands trembling. It’s almost embarrassing how nervous all of this makes her. She’s touched his hair a million and one times. Not like this though, never like this.
“Hey, hey wait a second.”
She doesn’t want to wait. Doesn’t want to stop. What if they stop and he realizes this was a mistake? What if this is all an elaborate prank that life is playing on her? You think the boy you’ve loved since you knew what love was likes you back? Silly girl, so silly.
“Buns, come on look at me.”
He cradles her face in his hands so gently, so soft, as if he’s holding the whole world in his palms.
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“What if I open my eyes and all of this isn’t real?”
A chuckle tumbles from his lips but it’s not mocking. It doesn’t make her feel stupid or ridiculous, even when she very well might be.
All it does is fill her with infinite affection.
“Buns, what do I have to do to make you believe it’s real? Pinch you? Give your cheek a lick? A bite maybe?”
“Do not lick my cheek. — the biting though.”
Steve’s laughter sounds so sweet. Like a song from a memory long forgotten and finally remembered. His chest shakes against hers making it impossible for her not to crack a smile. Secondhand laughter.
“Oh, biting gets you going? Alright, I’ll remember that for the future.”
“The future?”
It sounds like too good of a promise to be true.
“Bunny, look at me!”
He’s soft in all the ways a person can be but the softest of all is the way he looks at her when she opens her eyes.
“I’ve been in love with you for an embarrassingly long time. It just never felt like the right time to act on it. Either you were in a relationship or I was or — things were just a liiiiittle messed up.”
“So what changed?”
“I’m tired of waiting. I just wanted — no I needed you to know. Life moves surprisingly fast actually and I didn’t want to spend another minute pretending I don’t love you.”
Those girls in the crowds, cheering and hollering, they may get to see his abs, even his ass, but they will never have this. This is all hers.
“You serious?”
“As a doornail.”
“That’s — that’s not how the saying goes but I love you anyway.”
“Yeah?”
There’s no room for an answer, it gets swallowed somewhere in the ocean of kisses he places on her lips, one sweeter than the next.
Perhaps there doesn’t need to be an answer. Not one spoke with words at least. She hopes the kisses he receives in return are enough to silence his doubts forever. Quite honestly, she wouldn’t mind reminding him though.
“You feel that?” Eddie’s voice calls out, echoing through the shop as Steve and Bunny step inside. “The sweet sweet relief of a working air con!”
“Well, you guys have been working your asses off to get it for us.”
“More like showing our asses off.”
“Either way, “ Bunny says and gives Eddie a friendly pat on the shoulder. “It was all you guys. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be upstairs in my office doing some paperwork and basking in the chilly air-con.”
Just before she takes a turn towards the steps leading to the office though, she wraps her arms around Steve’s shoulders and places a long, gentle kiss on his lips. There’s something exhilarating about being able to kiss someone you’ve wanted to kiss for so long but were never allowed to. It’s addicting. It’s magical.
“See you later, baby.”
“What the fuck?!”
Life comes with a lot of struggles. A lot of dark days and bad times. It asks for so much and often it feels like it gives nothing in return. But maybe that’s not all true. There is joy to be found. In the big things like kissing the one you love, like realizing the person you always wanted wants you back. And in the small ones like the taste of his lips, the feel of cool air on your skin, the knowledge that you can do great things and overcome struggles — and in the laughter of your friends sounding through the halls as they realize that love has finally found a way to settle where it was always meant to be.
On February 6th, 2023, on Monday morning, around 4:15AM (GMT +3), an earthquake happened in Turkiye, and a lot of people were caught off guard since they were asleep.
The magnitude of the earthquake has been announced as 7.5, but later in the day, around 14:15PM, another earthquake has happened and this time it was 7.7. These earthquakes were the strongest that has ever happened in the southeast of Turkiye since 1939, and as I said above, many people were caught off guard.
There had been many search and rescue operations, and still happening, but there isn’t enough people to help everyone who had been injured and trapped under the destroyed buildings. After these two (2) big earthquakes, there had been a lot of aftershocks, at least M4.4 and highest M6.0. These aftershocks had demolished whatever left from the damaged buildings and made the search and rescue operations even harder to proceed.
The weather isn’t helping, either, because since the 1st of February, the snow has taken over the country and is more effective on the region where the earthquake happened. There are many, many cities where the search parties still could not reach and God knows how many dead.
The current toll is: 1.541 dead, more than 10K wounded and more than 5K bulding are destroyed.
People are in need of blankets, food, tent to stay in through the night as the buildings are very dangerous and there are still aftershocks happening, and diapers, water and hygenic peds.
Please, if you are able to, consider helping my people by donating. You can donate money through the photos I will add below. Please reblog, so that this post can reach many many people. Thank you.
You are spoiling me!! I love it! He absolutely would. A silly card to make us roll our eyes and snort, followed by the most romantic and tear inducing gesture. 😩
It’s my first time trying to draw his actual face without cheating and making him look down so you don’t have a proper front view, and I was soooo nervous to post it. But your reaction was so worth it.
And I love disjointed so much it brings me so much joy ❤️❤️❤️
Summary: Eddie and Reader are strangers turned friends turned lovers turned exes. We follow them on one really tense car ride and experience the ups and downs of their relationship through the songs playing on the radio.
Pairing: Eddie Munson x female Reader
Trigger Warning: Swearing. Mention of alcohol. Mention of food. Mention of drugs.
Wordcount: 10k + (It’s a big boy)
A/N: Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.
Summary: Eddie and Reader are strangers turned friends turned lovers turned exes. We follow them on one really tense car ride and experience the ups and downs of their relationship through the songs playing on the radio.
Pairing: Eddie Munson x female Reader
Trigger Warning: Swearing. Mention of alcohol. Mention of food. Mention of drugs.
Wordcount: 10k + (It’s a big boy)
A/N: Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.
Icicles hang from the eaves of the building like tiny cold daggers. A safety hazard for stressed-out Christmas shoppers.
A group of carolers stands a little off to the side, just far enough not to trigger the automatic doors but close enough to make sure none of the shoppers can ignore their incessant crooning.
It’s unfair, really. For her to judge them on their singing. They really aren’t all that bad and, on another day, she maybe would’ve even dropped a dollar or two into the red box saying “donations”. Today is not another day though. Today is today and today is very bad, no good, horrible, terrible, all kinds of shitty.
There are arguably worse places to be stuck with a non-working car than a Walmart parking lot an hour outside of Hawkins. That being said, there are also way better places.
Old Sally has been Old Sally before she was (Y/N)’s and though she has never been the most reliable car to begin with, she always pulled through in the end. Judging by the sounds she made just a few minutes ago when (Y/N) tried to start her, this might actually be The End. Full stop. Capital E. The one where there is no coming back from.
So what do you do when you’re stuck on your way home for the holidays? You call your family. You call mom, calm her down, convince her of the fact that you are okay and not dying and then you make her send dad to come get you. And it should work, right? In theory.
Only not today on this very bad, no good, horrible, terrible all kinds of shitty day.
Because dad has a broken leg from when he slipped on the ice so he can’t drive and mom already had a few eggnogs too many after her holiday party with the ladies from the salon.
“We can send someone else, hun. The Millers’ son is back in town, I’m sure he’d love to give you a ride.”
(Y/N) scoffed at her mother’s words. Kyle Miller had always been a fucking creep, lusting after her even back in high school. So she assured her mother she’d find another way home and told her not to worry.
And now it’s not her mother worrying. It’s her.
That’s what you get for stopping because you craved some flaming hot Cheetos, you dumbass.
She could walk, sure but what about her luggage? And what about the absolutely horrifying fact that she is a woman, it’s cold as fuck outside and about to get dark?
The movies teach us a lot of valuable life lessons. One of them — the most important one maybe — is to never say “it can’t get worse”. Because it will get worse. So much worse.
What the movies don’t tell you, is that even as much as thinking about it has the same effect. Because as soon as the thought crosses (Y/N)’s mind, it gets worse.
“Have yourself a merry little Christmas. Let your heart be light. From now on our troubles will be out of sight.”
(Y/N) wants to stab her fingers into her ears, all the way to her brain if possible. The caroller has a beautiful voice. A voice made to sing this melancholic Christmas classic. Again it’s not her fault that it pushes (Y/N) even closer to a breakdown. Only this time it’s not because of her current predicament. This song rips open wounds far older. Far deeper. Far more painful than anything life can possibly throw her way today.
Christmas lights paint the outside of Hawkins High in a kaleidoscope of bright colors as the soft fall of snow dusts the streets in a blanket looking like sweet powdered sugar.
The music coming from the inside floods out of the gym halls and reaches all the way to where Eddie’s van is parked at the edge of the parking lot.
The icy cold nips at their noses as Eddie and (Y/N) sit in the back of the car, feet dangling above the ground and the smell of weed wafting through the air.
“You’re a liar!”
“No, I’m not!”
“Eddie, you can’t be serious. Grandma got run over by a reindeer is nobody’s favorite Christmas song! “
His dopey smile sends little shivers down her spine. It always does. If there was a price to win for having the best smile, Eddie would always win. At least in her eyes. His smile is phenomenal. It’s breathtaking. It’s perfect. Sure, maybe it’s her loved-up, 16-year-old self talking who is completely, utterly, and unlucky in love with her best friend. But (Y/N) thinks of herself as a rather rational person and she’s almost sure it’s a widely known and accepted fact that Eddie Munson has the world’s best smile. People would have to be insane not to agree.
“Well, it’s mine.”
A frustrated huff falls from (Y/N)’s lips as she lets herself fall backward into the nest of blankets spread out behind them only for Eddie to follow suit just a second later.
“I can’t believe my best friend has the worst taste in Christmas music.”
“Hey, you are the one whose favorite Christmas candy are fucking candy canes.”
Their laughter echoes through the air like a song. One of hope and happiness and magic. This is what Christmas should always feel like, (Y/N) thinks. Easy and joyful and soft.
No stress and no fighting. No rush to be anywhere or do anything. Just here. Just this.
Her and Eddie and the snow and the sparkling lights. And some pretty good weed.
“Okay, okay next question. Ummm — what’s the best Christmas gift you’ve ever been given?”
You — she thinks. The words tickle her at the tip of her tongue, ready to slip out. She can just barely swallow them back down. Really, it’s not something you tell your best friend. Even if it’s true. He came into her life during the Christmas season and he’s been the best thing to ever happen to her.
“My record player, probably.”
“Good answer.”
It’s silly — she’s well aware, how much Eddie’s approval means to her.
“What’s yours?”
“Nuh-uh. Can’t ask the same thing!”
Rolling her eyes at his antics she tries to come up with a different question.
“Okay then, what’s your favorite Christmas memory?”
Eddie considers his words for a moment, carefully crafting a response as if all the world’s fate depends on his reply.
“When I was a kid and had just moved into Wayne’s trailer permanently, that was the first proper Christmas I ever celebrated. It’s not like we had much or anything but it was a lot for a kid who never had anything. Wayne cut down a tree but we couldn’t fit it in the trailer so we put it up outside. Ate Chinese takeout and watched White Christmas — and I got a present.”
“What did you get?”
“A guitar.”
“Did you get Wayne something?”
“Mmmh a mug.”
Her heart fills with delight and love as he tells the story. Eddie rarely talks about his early childhood. Sometimes it feels like Eddie before Wayne never existed. And though both would never admit it, they love each other dearly. They don’t say it out loud but you can see it in so many things, including all the mugs proudly on display, hanging from hooks in the living room area of the trailer. Dozens of “thank yous” and “I love yous” captured in porcelain.
“ Have yourself a merry little Christmas — “
“ I love this song!”
“You do?”
“Mm-hm”
Eddie glances at her from the corner of his eyes then looks back towards the roof of the van. There’s a shyness about him suddenly, one she has seen so very rarely. Eddie isn't shy. He's loud and confident even if half of it is just for show. Overdramatic and dialed up to 11. He's not usually like this.
"Do you um — do you wanna dance?"
"Huh?"
"Do you wanna dance?"
His voice is clearer now, stronger, more assured. It took a moment for Eddie to hype himself up. Get the confidence to ask the question, not really knowing which outcome he is expecting, which ones he's hoping for.
"Do YOU want to dance, Eddie?"
He lifts himself off of the van and stands before her all lanky arms and wild curly hair. He's wearing a black button-down that he swears he borrowed from Wayne. (Y/N) doesn't buy it though, the shirt looks crisp and clean. Still the blackest of blacks that only lives through maybe 5 machine washes before it dulls to a dark gray.
"Figured it's Hawkins High winter formal. Might as well do what's expected of us. And you like this song so —"
Not wasting another second on hesitating, (Y/N) takes a hold of Eddie’s outstretched hand and lets him twirl her into his arms. His hands are just as cold as hers, ice against ice. And yet she wouldn’t change anything about this situation for anything in the world. If feeling delusionally happy comes with a few sacrifices, like freezing, she’ll happily take the risk.
“Eddie, since when do you dance?”
He shrugs his shoulders “There’s a lot of things I’d do to make you smile.”
The cold melts away to make room for something else. A warmth that overtakes her, flesh and mind and everything. A warmth from the inside. All consuming. Magical.
And as they sway to Frank Sinatra’s voice softly carried by the wind, the warmth doesn’t go away. It wraps them in a blanket, shielding them from the outside world. It’s a moment you want to keep forever. One of those where even right then, as it happens, you know it is so much more than a moment. It is forever a part of your story. A part of you.
Eddie lets go of her hands for a second and bends down before reaching his arm out up above their heads.
“Oh, would you look at that, a mistletoe.”
“Eds, that’s not a mistletoe.”
“Yes, it is!” he insists, that signature Eddie Munson smirk on his lips that lets you know that he is well aware that he’s wrong but there’s no way he’ll admit to it. He is committed to being wrong and to making you agree.
“It’s a pine branch. I literally saw you pick it up.”
Eddie takes a deep breath, the air turning into clouds against the cold winter winds, as soon as it leaves his lungs.
“Look, humor me here. Let’s just pretend this is a mistletoe and we’re holding up a tradition. It’s soooo much easier than admitting that I am head over heels, absolutely dumbass in love with you and I might go crazy if I don’t shoot my shot and kiss you at least once. Okay? If we pretend it’s all fun and games then it won’t be so brutal when you end up rejecting me. Okay? Cool!”
For a second she wants to scoff, tell him to stop joking, to stop playing her for a fool. But there is a sincerity in his eyes she can’t deny. A flicker of something that has always been there but she could never really put a name to. He’s not joking. Not even a little.
“ Okay, sure. Let’s pretend it’s a mistletoe. Cause otherwise I’d have to admit that I am also disgustingly in love with you. “
He smiles at her again, that big smile that makes her knees feel like jello. The one that could win all the prizes. Only this time it’s hers. This one smile and this one moment belong to her. To them.
“ Guess we’ll have to stick to the tradition then, huh? “
“ Guess so.”
… and have yourself a merry little Christmas now.
It’s a cold kiss. Lips chapped from the winter winds and cold fingers grasping even colder faces. It’s hungry and soft. It’s desperate and slow. It’s all a kiss can and should be and more. It’s a hundred little moments wrapped in a perfectly imperfect kiss.
“I think —” Eddie says as he pulls away just far enough to speak. “I think this is my new favorite Christmas memory.”
A flurry of snow starts descending from the sky, gloomy gray clouds pushing away all of the blue. Icy snowflakes gather on (Y/N)’s hat, her hair, her nose — shaking her from her daydream. Enough trips down memory lane. They always seem fun and harmless until you take a wrong turn, drive down a backroad and end up crashing the car and watch it all burn.
“Well fuck.”
It’s bad enough being stuck at a Walmart parking lot, it’s worse when the sky glowers at you, threatening you with the potential of a snowstorm.
“C’mon Sally, why’d you have to do this to me today? It’s Christmas time, don’t you have a heart?”
In place of a response, the old car lets off another puff of smoke from its popped hood.
“That sounds like a no to me!”
A stinging sensation spreads from her heart all the way to the tips of her fingers. His voice still sounds the same as it did 4 years ago. Really, it was stupid to expect anything else. 4 years seem like a lifetime but in reality, they are but a blink.
She doesn’t dare turn around as if standing there unmoving might make him go away. Like a predator walking on, bored by its prey. Only Eddie is no predator. He never was. Though all the town seemed to think differently, he was always a lover and never a fighter.
“You can say hi, you know.”
If life was a movie, this would be the slow-motion scene. The turning around looking at the ex, angel choir singing in the background, love instantly rushing back in.
Only love can only rush back if it ever left in the first place. Not if it was pushed in a metaphorical box, then shoved to the back of a dark metaphorical closet.
Facing him is scary. It’s also inevitable. Things are so shit today, it really can’t get worse. There’s no way.
He looks hot. And maybe that makes things a bit worse, actually. He’s still got the unruly curls and he’s still tall and lanky but the awkwardness of an 18-year-old has worn off and he looks more like the man he is than the boy he used to be.
“Hi, Eddie.”
“Hey (Y/N). You look good — but Sally. I don’t know about her.”
The fact that he talks to her so casually, both enrages and amuses her. Maybe 4 years really are only a blink but that doesn’t mean nothing ever changes.
“Thanks um — you too. Yeah, she started making weird sounds and then the smoke started and ugh. You think you can take a look?”
He grants her a smile and she wants to jump in front of a moving vehicle as the flutters in her heart start. It’s ridiculous that he still has this effect on her. Not after everything. Not after that night 4 years ago.
“I can but I can already tell you’re not driving her anywhere tonight and it’s about to start snowing real fucking heavy. Do you — do you want me to give you a ride home? Your parents’ place I mean. I assume that’s where you’re headed? “
“Hmm, yup. Uh — you don’t have to do that.”
“I know, I want to.”
She wants to punch him. Not in the face but maybe on the arm or something. Hurt him but not really really hurt him. For being so nonchalant. Casual. For being so nice when he had none of that to give that one night 4 years ago and all the months after, right until the day she left for college. Does he think this absolves him? It doesn’t. There is no redemption for breaking her heart, no matter how many good deeds.
But what is the alternative?
With a look at the sky and the looming darkness, (Y/N) lets out a sigh and grabs her luggage from the car. Eddie’s old rusty van is parked right next to her. It holds so many memories, none of which she wants to revisit.
“Christmas, The snow's coming down … “
The choir launches into their next song and a smile takes over Eddie’s face. A smile (Y/N) hasn’t seen in a long time. One that doesn’t have an effect on her at all whatsoever.
“Why are you smiling?”
“Oh, no reason. It really doesn’t matter.”
Eddie likes Gareth’s house. Not just for the fact that the garage is big enough for them to practice in and his parents are nice enough to allow them to do so. It’s a nice place in general. It’s not big or flashy or anything but it’s homey and nice. For a kid growing up in a trailer park, it’s a palace. Not that he doesn’t appreciate what he has, he does. But it’s nice to dream. To imagine himself in a place like this one day, family included.
Walking up the driveway, guitar slung on his back, the icy ground crunches beneath his heavy boots. The garage door is closed so the boys must not have started practicing yet. Sometimes, when she’s home, Gareth’s mom makes them snacks or hot chocolate and they all sit around and pig out before playing some music. It’s nice of her to care for the boys even if they aren’t her kids. It gives him a little glimpse of what it must be like to have a mother.
“They're singing "Deck The Halls"
But it's not like Christmas at all
'Cause I remember when you were here
And all the fun we had last year”
A loud voice catches his attention, belting out the Darlene Love song. His eyes scan the neighborhood before settling on the source of the commotion.
The girl stands on a ladder leaning against the house across the street from Gareth’s. A garland of multicolored lights adorns the roof as she regards her work with pride. Her voice still rings through the neighborhood and it has Eddie in a chokehold.
A siren calling out to a sailor, enchanting him, bewitching him. It’s not that her singing is particularly good, in fact, it’s quite the opposite. Yet something about it has Eddie mesmerized.
It doesn’t seem to bother her what people might think, she’s having a good time and that’s all she cares about. It’s nice, he thinks, to see someone not desperately trying to stick to society’s preconceived notions of what is considered cool. This girl is wearing a big woolen sweater and a hat that seems like someone handmade it and ran out of yarn halfway through so they had to continue with another color. By all means, this girl is not cool. Eddie thinks she might be the coolest person he’s ever seen.
And she’s dancing, shaking her hips to the beat of the song she’s singing. While standing on a ladder. Oh god, she’s dancing — on the ladder.
Life shifts into slow motion. He can almost see it happening before it does. One dance move a little too enthusiastic. A slip. A tumble. A thud as she hits the ground. It happens so slowly and too fast for him to intervene all at the same time. Though as soon as she hits the ground, Eddie shakes out of his mesmerized state and rushes over.
She’s looking up at the sky with a face scrunched in pain and what he can only assume is embarrassment. Her back is flat against the cold snowy ground.
“Holy shit, are you okay?”
The girl slowly pries open one eye and glances at him in confusion. “Are you an angel?”
“Uh no — I’m just Eddie. I’m a friend of Gareth’s. He lives across the street. Did you hurt your head? “
Pushing herself off of the ground into a sitting position the girl smiles up at him sending tiny flutters through his heart. She’s gorgeous. Even with her mismatched hat and the snow in her hair.
“I’m okay. Just a bit bruised but I’ll be fine.”
“You sure? That was a mighty fall.”
“Was it embarrassing?”
“I don’t think anyone but me saw. And I for one think you put on one hell of a performance.”
Her laughter, he thinks, might be even better than her smile.
“Now you’re making fun of me.”
“I’m not. I promise. Hey, what’s your name? “
“Oh sorry, so rude of me— “ she exclaimed before standing up and holding a glove-covered hand out to Eddie. “I’m (Y/N). I just moved here.”
“Well, again, I am Eddie. I’m in a band with Gareth who lives over there.”
“You’re in a band? “ her eyes widen at this revelation.
“Mmh. Corroded Coffin. We play mostly metal stuff.”
“That sounds amazing!”
That’s not the reaction he’s used to. Girls don’t usually take too kindly to his taste in music. It’s not to say there are none who enjoy metal, he just hasn’t found them yet. Until now it seems.
“It does?”
“It does! You think the band would be okay with me sitting in and listening to you guys practice? I don’t really have any friends yet and — “
“Yeah sure, absolutely!”
There’s no doubt in his mind the guys will be ecstatic. It’s not every day a pretty girl shows interest in their band … or them.
“Okay cool. Awesome. “
Walking towards Gareth’s house, their boots leave imprints on the fresh snow. A sign that makes Eddie aware that this is not a dream. This is actually happening. Maybe life is finally turning for him. Giving him something good. Someone special.
“Christmaasss, the snow’s coming down.”
She responds to his singing with a friendly shove of her shoulders against his “Oh come on. Now you’re taking the piss.”
“I’m not.”
She raises her eyebrows in disbelief.
“Okay, maybe a little.”
“You know what that means, right?”
“What?”
“Now you have to play the song during practice.”
A smile takes over his face, pulling at the muscles of his cold cheeks.
“Huh, I think I can do that!”
He doesn’t know how to play the damn song but if it makes her smile like this, he might just have to figure it out.
“ Sooo — how’s the parents?”
Eddie’s voice cuts through the awkward silence. This is strange and unfamiliar. Back then, 4 years ago, there was never a moment of silence with them that came even close to being awkward or uncomfortable. They always had something to say, to joke around and be goofy. Even if they didn’t, they would bask in comfortable silence, happy to just be with each other.
This feels like a whole different life, an alternate universe. There is so much left to say between them, the air is thick with it. But this is not the time and place to say any of it. Maybe there will never be a time or place.
“Yeah, they’re good. I mean dad hurt himself the other day when he slipped on the ice in the driveway but you know how he is. Always clumsy.”
“Runs in the family.”
Almost. He almost gets a smile out of her. Almost.
“ I guess so. How’s Wayne?”
Eddie grins though he keeps his eyes fixed on the snowy road in front of them.
“Working too much. Watching reruns of the same old show. Nothing changed. Same old Wayne.”
It has always been like this, Eddie talking about his uncle. Though his words don’t give it away, the tone of his voice always does. It is filled with adoration, with gratefulness, and love. Wayne is the only proper family that Eddie has ever known and though neither of them will ever outright admit it, at least not sober, the two mean the world to each other.
She misses Wayne, (Y/N) can admit that much. He was always so sweet to her, letting her see behind the perpetually grumpy facade and see the soft-spoken, bighearted man he truly is.
“He still smoking?”
Eddie scoffs “ ‘course.”
“ He promised me he’d try quitting.”
“ He did try, for like 5 hours.”
(Y/N) shakes her head in mock disappointment. “Tell him I am not happy with him. And also tell him I said hi.”
“ Tell him yourself. You can come by whenever. I’m sure you’ll have a lot on your plate while you’re here but he’d love to see you.”
The thought of going back to the trailer fills (Y/N) with a sense of dread. Not because there is anything bad tied to it. No, that’s the problem. All her best memories are connected to the trailer. It’s all happiness and love. The best of times. Going back would only make her face the brutal truth that it’s all over, forever and she can get none of it back. All that’s left of those times are memories and heartbreak.
“ I don’t know, Eddie. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
He asks the question with the innocence of a child. Someone who really doesn’t see the issue. Sometimes she wonders if he does it on purpose or if he really doesn’t get it. Did he move on so easily? Is this not ripping him apart the way it does her?
“Eddie, ex-partners don’t usually go around to visit their ex’s family for the holidays. It’s — it would be awkward.”
She can tell he wants to say something. Can almost see it on the tip of his tongue before he swallows it down and nods in defeat.
“Yeah, you’re right. Sorry.”
The awkward silence is back. Worse than before because now there’s the inkling of guilt nagging away at her. Is she being too harsh? She doesn’t want to hurt or disappoint Eddie, and she’d definitely love to see Wayne. But is it worth it breaking her own heart in the process? Does she not get to be bitter still at the heartbreak and the whole mess Eddie created 4 years ago?
The welcome to Hawkins sign is almost invisible through the thick snowfall as they pass it. It’s weird coming home for the first time in 4 years after spending the last few Christmases on vacation with her parents somewhere. It feels good. Involuntarily, she glances to her left at the boy who, despite it all, still holds her heart in his palms. It feels good and it also feels extremely heartbreaking at the same time.
Static fills the car as the radio signal finally gives up and bows to the harsh winter winds.
"Ah shit, hey take a look in the glove box there's some cassette tapes. I think there's even a Christmas one." Eddie instructs, struggling to drive on the icy roads.
Cold fingers reach out to the glove compartment. The fact that the first thing she sees is a little bag of weed shouldn’t be surprising her, it still paints a little smile on her face though. 4 years but a blink.
There are several tapes, Eddie’s chicken scratch writing indicating what’s on them. Iron Maiden. Sabbath. That one Beach Boys tape he doesn’t want anyone to know about.
And then there’s the Christmas tape. It’s the only one he owns. She knows this because she made it for him after complaining that he didn’t have any Christmas music to listen to during the festive season. There’s a sticker of a sparkly gold star and another of a candy cane stuck to the case and in big red letters it proudly exclaims “Eddie and (Y/N)’s MiX-mas tape.”
She thought she was so clever with that wordplay. If only that naive girl knew how things were gonna end up.
Shaky hands push the cassette into the player. It takes a moment and then the smooth voice of Nat King Cole fills the silence with his rendition of O Come, All Ye Faithful.
This time she can’t suppress the smile. A memory flushes her brain that is too precious and too wholesome and too — important for her to ever stop herself from smiling at the thought of it.
And it seems she’s not the only one.
Eddie dares to glance her way and when he catches sight of her smile, he lets the corner of his lips arch upwards too.
“That was a good Christmas, wasn’t it? “
“ Are you kidding me? That was the best Christmas.”
“What do you mean, Christmas is canceled? “
A gloomy mood rests over the entire trailer park. Families that had been so excited for the season's festivities, who had spent the last weeks barely getting by in order to save some money to be able to give their kids a happy Christmas, now sit inside their cold trailers with sad faces and heavy hearts.
“Power is out. Wayne and some of the neighbors have been trying to get the emergency generators going but those things are so damn old and no one ever comes around to check on them — you know, with us trailer park people being second-class citizens of Hawkins and all. I could maybe power my amp with that generator but that’s about it. Maybe a vinyl player. “
(Y/N) stands on the steps leading up to the Munson’s trailer, a cold dish of her mother’s casserole in her hand and a big silly red bow on top of her head. This isn’t what she had imagined the night to go. She was supposed to spend Christmas Eve with the Munsons. Watch White Christmas or Gremlins or Meet me in St. Louis while the casserole is in the oven. Maybe get a little tipsy on eggnog. Get a mistletoe kiss from her boyfriend and — if she’s really lucky a dance around the Christmas tree from Wayne.
But this? This is just sad. A bunch of families who already struggle enough as it is, looking devastated and knowing that if the power doesn’t magically turn on again, not only will their Christmas eve be ruined but so will the rest of their festivities. No one’s gonna come check or repair anything tomorrow on Christmas day. Not for people at the trailer park.
“Well shit,” Wayne’s voice sounds from inside the trailer, “if the power is out that means the fridge is out. All those good steaks I bought can go straight to the trash. So much for treating ourselves for the holidays.”
(Y/N) never believed in higher powers or miracles or any of that stuff but in that moment something shifts. And maybe it’s just a light bulb moment but it feels like a spark of something magical. An excitement that starts in her heart and spreads all throughout her body.
“Eds, the big BBQ grills out by the picnic tables still work, right?”
“Uh — yeah. Why ?”
The innocence and confusion and softness in his eyes remind her of a puppy dog. Oh, how she loves this boy and all his sweetness. She had a plan for tonight. It was supposed to be their magical Christmas eve and she’s not gonna let anything ruin that for her.
“Christmas is officially back on! Get the tinsel, some candles — oh, and your guitar.”
“My gui — what are you plotting here, babe?”
“Do you trust me?”
The fact that he doesn’t hesitate, not even for a second, sends her heart into a little frenzy. It really is them against the world. Against snow storms and power outages and every other obstacle there can possibly be.
“I do! So what’s the plan boss? “
Eddie never believed in higher powers or miracles or any of that stuff. And though he liked to get lost in fantastical stories of magical realms and creatures, he was well aware of the fact that true magic doesn’t exist.
At least he thought so — until now.
The trailer park is decked out in ribbon and bows, in tinsel and glitter, There is music flowing from a record player hooked to a generator and steaks sizzling on the grill. People are gathered around a campfire, warming their hands with mugs of hot cocoa.
An ocean of candles and some battery-powered Christmas lights illuminate the whole place and the Mayfields even dragged their Christmas tree out of the trailer for everyone to gather around.
There is magic, he thinks and lets his gaze move over the crowd of smiling faces where hours ago all he could see was heartbreak. It’s just not the magic they tell you about in fairytales and movies. It’s a feeling of belonging, of community, of love.
And maybe, (Y/N) is a little bit magical herself.
“ Hey Rockstar, “ the enchantress in question slides up next to him leaning against his van. “ Think the crowd is asking for a song.”
“ The crowd or you?”
“ Oh, definitely the crowd.”
In the candlelight you might mistake her for an angel, Eddie thinks. All golden glow and loving eyes. Whatever it is he’s feeling for this girl, he’s never felt this way about anyone else. For a while it was terrifying. Like all new things. Even the good ones. It was unfamiliar. Strange.
He’s not so scared anymore. Not when she looks at him like this, all gentle and soft. No rough edges or sharp points. It might be time to be brave and let himself feel all the big feelings that used to scare him so much. He thinks the big feelings might just be worth it.
“Hey, what you did for all these people today was — I don’t really know how to say it. You’re just so wonderful and kind and — yeah I don’t know. “
Glove-covered hands take a hold of his face as a cold nose is pressed against his. “Whatever it is you’re feeling right now, I want you to know I feel the same. You don’t have to say it. I know. And I hope you know too.”
He does. Not a doubt in his mind.
“You saved Christmas, baby.”
“I’m like a reverse Grinch. And judging by the color of your nose you might just be Rudolf. Go get your guitar and play us some tunes by the fire. Crowd is asking”
He places a kiss on her lips. She tastes like hot chocolate and peppermint candy canes. Christmas personified. And if he didn’t love her so much he’d think this is awfully cheesy. It is, he’s not going to deny it. But he likes cheesy if it involves her.
"Alright. But just for the record, I’d play even if it was only you asking me to. I’ll do anything for you.”
He’s well aware that what she asked for was some melodic tunes on his old dusty acoustic. Something peaceful and slow. And really, he appreciates a good acoustic song, he likes playing them too. But this isn’t where his heart is. It would truly be a disservice to all of humanity if he were to deny the people his electric rendition of O Come, All Ye Faithful.
There have been noise complaints before, especially when he first got the electric guitar. He can’t really blame people either. It’s loud and he just gets so lost in his music sometimes he forgets there are people around who maybe don’t want to hear him play.
They all don’t seem so bothered now. Everyone has a smile painted on their face. The sadness is washed away, lost somewhere in the candlelight flicker and the crackling of the fire.
Eddie never had a big family, hell for most of his life he didn’t have anyone worth being called a part of his family. Not until he got sent to live with Wayne. He wonders if this is what it feels like. This sense of belonging of being a part of something bigger. Even if this moment, like all moments before it, will pass and one day only be a memory, he got to be a part of it now and that means — everything.
His eyes meet Wayne’s across the fire, who gives him a friendly nod of his head and while it means nothing to everyone else, Eddie knows what it means. It’s “I’m proud of you, kid.”
And when he moves his gaze to the right, towards where (Y/N) is bundled up in one of his big flannel jackets, sipping on a mug of hot chocolate, his heart feels lighter than it ever has.
“I love you”, she mouths to him as the battery-powered Christmas lights dip her in hues of blues and reds, and greens.
“ I love you too,” he mouths back. And it’s not scary at all. In fact, it is the easiest thing in the world.
“You really did save Christmas that night!”
“ Don’t be dramatic, Eddie. I just — I did what I could. You and Wayne and the neighbors helped too. It wasn’t just me. And the power came back on like 4 hours later so —”
“ Doesn’t matter. You made everyone really happy that day. I still get asked to play a song every Christmas eve.”
Eddie not only has a great smile, it’s also incredibly infectious. It makes you want to join in even if every particle of your body wants to fight it. A losing game. A fool’s war.
“Well, I got Wayne to dance with me that night. My proudest moment, really.”
“Oh I know”
He gives her a look that’s hard to describe. It’s laced with a secret.
“What’s that look for ?”
Shaking his head, Eddie sends his unruly curls moving. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
Right, cause saying that is the best way in getting people to not worry or be curious.
(Y/N) is just about to continue the conversation, to interrogate him a little more. To really get to the bottom of the look that has settled over his face, when the song switches to the next one.
And that one grabs a hold of her throat and slowly closes its iron fist, cutting off her air supply.
Devoid of air, devoid of all feelings but heartache, the van suddenly feels like a cage.
“I really like that song, turn it up — “
She doesn’t turn it up. Her hands don’t move from where they are tightly gripping the fabric of her pants. Clammy and cold like she has suddenly been plunged into a fever.
It’s not a sickness. Just a most horrible memory.
“The lamp is burnin' low upon my tabletop
The snow is softly falling
The air is still in the silence of my room
I hear your voice softly calling”
Gordon Lightfoot’s voice echoes through the halls of the (Y/L/N) family home. Mom must’ve changed the records having had enough of Dad’s rock Christmas compilation vinyl.
The house is packed with people, family and friends, and neighbors. All of them gathered here to celebrate the most wonderful time of the year. If things were different (Y/N)’s heart would be full of love and gratefulness. To see all her loved ones together. To have a house filled with laughter and joy.
Instead, she finds herself leaning against the wall looking out of the window into the inky black night. Snow is falling softly making this whole scene feel like a cheesy Christmas movie.
Only Christmas movies always have happy endings and there’s a stinging sensation in her heart that tells her this one might not.
“Honey,” her mother’s warm gentle hand takes a hold of her shoulder “ the Lintons are here. You remember their daughter Mary? She went to college last year, wanna go have a chat with her? Let her tell you about what to expect? “
Just a few days ago she would’ve jumped at the chance. Excitement would have flooded her veins and dreams of a future filled her head. Only that future seems like a distant dream now. One made up by a silly little girl who believed in fairytales and happily ever afters. And a love that lasts forever.
“I uh — I’ll be there in a minute. Just wanna see if Eddie makes it or not.”
“ Oh, he’s not here yet? “
No, mother. Obviously not. Otherwise would I be standing here like an idiot watching the window like a delusional child waiting for Santa to never come?
“ Not yet. We — we had a fight. Not sure he’ll come by at all.”
“Sweetheart, I'm so sorry. I’m sure you’ll figure it out though, you two always do.”
They do but things have never been this bad. He never said the things before he said that night last week. He has never looked at her like that either.
“Have you tried calling him?”
Calling him? No, obviously not. That would feel like admitting to being wrong. And she isn’t wrong. She wasn’t wrong that night either. Is it so bad to wish for a future together? To hope and to dream of something magical?
“Well maybe then we aren’t meant to last then. What do I know?!“
His words still sting. It stings worse to know he didn’t immediately regret them after they tumbled from his lips.
“No.”
“Well, okay. Just come join us when you’re ready. And let me know if there is anything I can do.”
Her mom pulls her into a warm hug. She smells like wine and cinnamon and jasmine perfume. She smells like mom and Christmas and for a second (Y/N) feels a spark of contentment.
The spark diminishes the moment her mother leaves to go mingle with the rest of the guests.
Then it’s just her and the night and the empty street and a heart shattered into a million pieces.
She goes through motions like a zombie. Greet guests, hugs, handshakes, smile and nod, eat, drink, give short but friendly answers, try not to fall apart, smile, hug, drink, watch the clock, look out the window, smile. Smile. Smile.
As the lock clicks into place, (Y/N) leans against the counter of the bathroom, hands gripping the fake marble countertop as if it’s the only thing keeping her afloat. Maybe it is.
It’s almost 10. Party started at 6. He knew. He knows.
He’s not here and he probably won't be.
Tears are threatening to fall. Gathering at her lower lashline, turning her eyes glassy. A knot builds in her throat, impossible to swallow. Maybe, she thinks, this is her heart making its way up her body to be thrown up and discarded. Ain’t usable anymore anyway.
Maybe it’s time to admit defeat. To pick up that stupid phone and call him. If not to bring him here at least to get closure. To know for sure he isn’t coming because he doesn’t want to and not because he lies bleeding in a ditch somewhere on the way to her house.
Wiping the tears and fixing her mascara, she makes her way to her room and picks up the phone. Eddie always makes fun of the lip-shaped phone but she loves the thing. Remembering them laughing about it makes her sick.
It rings once. Twice. Three times.
Then a Munson picks up. Not her Munson though.
Wayne’s sleep-laced voice croaks out a tired “hello?”.
She almost feels bad for waking him. But this isn’t her fault. Is it?
“Hi Wayne, sorry for waking you. I was just wondering if Eddie is home?”
“Uh, no sweetheart. Him and the boys are out I think at the Hideout? I’m not entirely sure. I think that’s the place he said.”
One time, when she was just 5 years old, (Y/N) got a sparkly princess dress for Christmas. It was pink and full of glitter and sequins. She loved that thing. Wanted to wear it every day. Refused to take it off when they went to see her grandparents. So her parents let her. Actions and consequences. She wore that thing even when they went outside to play in the snow. She still remembers how fucking cold that was. It chilled her all the way to the bones.
Hearing Eddie choose to go out drinking instead of seeing her makes her feel a different kind of cold, but one that is just as chilling, just as all-consuming.
“Okay, yeah that must be it. Thank you, Wayne. Bye.”
The click of the receiver as she puts it back down sounds deafening through the silence of her room.
Her cries are silent though, just tears. There’s hardly room to breathe in her lungs, let alone sob or scream. But then again, pain doesn’t have to be loud to be serious.
20 minutes later she stands in the living room, some glass of non-alcoholic cranberry cocktail clutched in her hand.
Mom’s record is on its 3rd or 4th loop because they keep putting the needle back to the beginning and no one bothers to change it.
She’s wearing the red crushed velvet dress that Eddie loves so much and she feels like a goddamn fool.
But life keeps moving whether you're ready or not.
So she drinks and she eats and she hugs and she smiles. Only this time her eyes never wander over to the window. Not once.
“Hey, why did you skip the song? I said I like it.”
“Well I don’t”
“You put it on there!”
“Yeah 4 fucking years ago. Eddie this, “ she says and motions with her finger between the two of them “doesn’t change anything. You driving me home. Us reminiscing about the good old times. We’re not friends and I’m still angry at you.”
“For what? Why are you angry at me? What did I do?”
He says it with such absolute disbelief and confusion. As if he really doesn’t know.
Does he really not know?
“Eddie, you broke up with me. For absolutely no reason. “
“What are you talking about?”
“Oh come on now. Don’t play dumb. We had this stupid fight about college and how I wanted to help you with your grades so you could graduate and you blocked me out completely. And every time I talked about our future you got all pissy.”
“ Because I was embarrassed!”
“I get that I really do. But I was so understanding and you just brushed it off like our plans didn’t mean shit to you. And then you broke up with me.”
“What are you talking about? I never broke up with you! You broke up with me!”
He combs his fingers through his hair with irritation written all over his face. What the fuck does he mean? She wasn’t the one breaking up. He was!
He was …. right ?!
“ You literally said and I quote ‘Well maybe we aren’t meant to last then. What do I know?!’“
“Yeah, I was talking out of my ass. I was frustrated and sad and angry but not at you. At myself. And I never broke up with you.”
It’s like the earth shifts. Tectonic plates crashing into each other, shaking everything up, plunging the world into chaos. Her world at least. Everything she thought she knew about him and her and them now seems like a maybe — a perhaps.
“Then why didn’t you show up at my family’s Christmas party? I asked you to come.”
“And then in the car after our fight, you said not to bother.”
“Because I thought you had broken up with me.”
“And then I woke up to a box of my things on the steps of the trailer.”
“It’s the most wonderful time of the year !”
“Oh for fucks sake.”
“It's the hap-happiest season of all”
It was supposed to be. Only it fucking isn’t.
They were supposed to be driving to lovers lake and meet up with some friends, go ice skating, have a good time, and be a loving couple.
It wasn’t supposed to end up with her head leaning against the car window, watching the snow flurry outside and wiping away tears in a way that she thinks he doesn’t notice.
He notices. And he hates himself for making her cry in the first place.
“I don’t understand why you’re being so weird about this. I just want to help you, Eds. I have this whole plan set up on how to get your grades back on track. But I need you to work for it. If that is too much to ask then — I don’t know.”
“ No, go ahead. Say it! ”
“ I don’t know what you mean.”
“If it’s too much to ask then I will just end up not graduating and all our perfect plans will be ruined.”
“I never said that”
He knows he is being unfair. It’s not her fault. In fact, it is entirely his own. He’s awfully aware of this and maybe that’s the whole point. This is on him and she should not be the one having to bear his luggage. They’re just 18, it’s too much of him to ask her to deal with his issues, save him from his own demons.
Nevertheless, it sucks. So bad.
That future she was talking about, dreaming of, he wants that too. More than anything. But it was always too good to be true. Dreams like that aren’t for a boy like him.
He’s not gonna graduate this year, no matter how many study plans and extra work and confidence she puts in. He’s the king of lost causes. Everyone knows. Maybe it’s time for her to realize it too.
She will stay. For him. Wait a whole year. Put her life on pause. All just for little old him who doesn’t deserve it. Only to what? Realize next year that all that confidence and trust was utterly misplaced.
“You don’t have to say it for it to be true.”
“Why are you being so unkind? I’m trying to help you.”
“Well stop trying! It’s not going to work out.”
She’s quiet for a moment and it just about kills him. This isn’t about her or them even. She has to know this, right? That he appreciates her and everything she does. It’s just — useless.
“This as in you graduating or this as in us? “
He hates where this conversation is going. He never meant for it to go there. He loves this girl, he doesn’t want this to end.
But this stupid self-destructive part of him just can’t seem to shut up. It’s like the devil on his shoulder has completely smothered the angel and is whispering all the wrong things into Eddie’s ear.
“The graduating part but maybe —”
“Don’t. Don’t even finish that sentence. What about our plans? What about being meant for each other?”
Shut the fuck up. His mind is screaming at him to just keep his mouth shut. To pull over and kiss her stupid and tell her that they are meant to be together. That she is it for him. Now and then and forever. But the reality of it all is that she deserves so much better. And his demons scream louder than his heart beats.
“Well, maybe we aren’t meant to last then. What do I know?!”
Never in his life will he forget the way she looks at him then. Utter betrayal floods her eyes. Disappointment. Heartbreak. He hates himself for doing this. Why can’t he ever keep the good things in his life? Why must he always mess things up? No wonder everyone leaves. He wouldn’t stay either. The self-sabotaging mess that he is.
“You been thinking about this for a while? Us?”
“ No, of course not. “
“Then why are you saying these things all of a sudden?”
“I don’t know, okay? I don’t know (Y/N).”
It’s the first time he’s ever raised his voice at her and it feels disgusting. Vile. If only he could be like the heroes or magicians in his favorite stories. Brave and strong and maybe possess the magic to change the past or travel back. Back to when things were good and he was able to push his demons back into the furthest corner of his mind.
“Well, my mom’s Christmas party is this weekend so you better figure it out, or don’t bother showing up. Let me out here.”
“ It’s snowing.”
“Eddie, let me the fuck out. My house is just down the street. I can literally see it from here.”
He drives alongside her all the way to her door. She doesn’t look back at him. Not a glance. Nothing.
“It’s good like this. You don’t deserve her anyway.”
He wonders if the devil on his shoulder is truly louder or if the angel is just agreeing with him.
“It's the most wonderful time
Yes the most wonderful time
Oh the most wonderful time
Of the year”
“Oh fuck off, Andy!”
Disgusting. He feels disgusting. Disgusting and sad.
There’s a Christmas party going on right now that he’s supposed to be at. But she doesn’t want him there. Not like this. A guy who can’t even graduate from high school. Who will only hold her back?
He’s sad and drunk. Wayne thinks he’s at the hideout with friends when in reality he just drove his van down the snowy roads of Hawkins, going all over the place except her street. Because he’s scared of what he might see.
It would’ve been so easy to just take another right turn and knock on her door and say sorry. But what if by now she realized how much better off she is without him?
So he doesn’t show up. Instead, he drives back home, parks the van behind the trailer and gets drunk. And because he is a huge masochist and loves hurting himself, he puts on the Christmas tape she made for him.
“Ding Dong. Ding dong. It’s the most — “
“Ding dong. Ding dong. Shut the fuck up, Andy!”
It’s all too much. The songs and the weather and the heartbreak and the self-pity.
Slowly he drags himself out of the van and up the trailer stairs. His feet feel heavy, his heart even heavier.
A wave of warmth engulfs him suddenly as the door swings open. Wayne looks less than excited to see him. Why would he be? If he weren’t so drunk, maybe Eddie would notice the softness in the man’s eyes. The concern edged onto his face.
“Kid, you okay?”
“Just peachy, uncle Wayne.”
“Mmh. Well (Y/N) called asking for you.”
It feels like a bucket of cold water being poured over his head and suddenly all the haze of the alcohol is gone. She called. She cares. Oh god, she still cares.
“What did she say?”
“Not much. Just asked if you’re home.”
“And what did you tell her?”
“The truth. That you’re out with the boys.”
“Ah shit Wayne, what’d you do that for?”
“What? What was I supposed to do? Lie?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m not going to do that. What is going on, Eddie?”
A shuddered breath leaves Eddie’s lips.
“We had a fight. A bad one. I messed things up. I gotta go see her. Shit, I gotta fix this.”
Wayne reaches out and grabs a hold of Eddie’s jacket, pulling him into the warm trailer.
“You’re not going anywhere, kid. You’re drunk. I sure am not gonna let you drive in this state. Go to bed, get a good night's sleep, and tomorrow morning you can drive over and fix it. And you need a goddamn shower.”
He falls asleep at 4am. Wakes up at 6. He has a whole speech prepared. Starting with I’m sorry and ending with I love you. He takes a shower, gets dressed. He even wears the sweater she likes so much.
And as he pulls open the door he is greeted by a box of his stuff sitting on the steps of the trailer.
“So we both thought the other broke up and actually neither of us wanted to actually break up?”
“God, what a mess, Eddie.”
She’s not sure if she wants to laugh or cry. It’s all too much. Her heart is beating too fast. Her mind is racing.
“What do we do now?”
“Nothing, Eds. It’s been 4 years. What does it matter now?”
Everything. It matters and it changes everything but admitting that is scary.
Eddie pulls up the gravel driveway of her childhood home. Two heavy hearts and a million unsaid words fill the car as she grabs the door handle.
“Is this goodbye again?”
“Neither of us said goodbye last time.”
He lets out a humorless chuckle.
“You have a point. First time for everything, huh?”
A stinging sensation starts behind her eyes, pushing the tears to the brink, as she steps out of the car and out into the harsh winter winds.
“Goodnight, Eddie.”
“Hey, (Y/N)” He calls out as she drags her suitcase up the steps of the house.
“Yeah?”
“Just for the record. Even if it doesn’t change anything. I still love you. It matters a lot to me that you didn’t want us to end either.”
He doesn’t know what hurts more. The fact that she nods or watching her walk away and close the door behind her.
She didn’t say goodbye this time either.
Oh, holy shit — she didn’t say goodbye!
“What’s this?”
(Y/N)’s mom sits at the kitchen counter, a mug of coffee in hand and a mischievous smile on her face. It’s way too early for any of her shenanigans even if they come in the form of a vinyl record wrapped in a big red bow.
“Don’t know. It was there this morning when I opened the door. Right there on our front porch. Looks like a record to me though.”
“You know who left it?”
“No,” mom shrugs and points to the record resting on the kitchen table. “There’s a letter though.”
It’s a small blue envelope and her name is written on it in a chicken scratch she immediately recognizes. At least it’s still shut which means her mother hasn’t peaked inside and studied all the contents of the letter.
“When did he bring this?”
Her mom denies everything. Even goes as far as throwing her an “I don’t know what you mean”. What she doesn’t account for, is the fact that she is a horrible liar. Truly abysmal.
“Of course you don’t. Well, I'm gonna go upstairs and read this. In peace!”
Her mother’s laughter follows her all the way up until she closes the door to her childhood bedroom and drops down onto her bed.
A beehived Brenda Lee smiles back at (Y/N) from the cover of the vinyl record, a present clutched in her hand and a Christmas tree sparkling in the background.
Why he chose that specific record, she has no clue.
With shaky fingers, she opens and unfolds the letter. Eddie used to do this a lot back when they were together. Leave her letters and notes. She thought it was very old school and very romantic at the same time. Something poetic and artistic about it. Where he wasn’t good at saying the words out loud, he was quite the phenomenal writer.
“(Y/N),
let me start by saying I’m sorry. That’s also what I wanted to tell you that night of the party — and the morning after. I should’ve. I should’ve fought for us and told you how I felt even when I thought we were over. I just never felt like I really deserved you and some fucked up part of my brain made me believe that sooner or later you’d realize that too. I guess I thought it was easier this way. Like ripping off a bandaid. It wasn’t easy. Not even a little bit. That part of me is still there, I doubt it will ever go away. But I am better now. I like to think I have matured but Wayne says I just lost a bit of my stupid in the last few years. I graduated! Crazy I know. I have a job now too. And while I will never be the smartest person in any room, I like to believe I made something of myself. You still deserve better but I hope that maybe this version of me can be enough.
I understand if this changes nothing for you but it changes everything for me. I still love you as much as the moment I saw you fall down the ladder, or kissed you in the snow, or watched you save Christmas.
I knew we were gonna be forever when I watched you across the trailer park, illuminated by candles and Christmas lights. You were dancing with Wayne! It’s the first and only time I’ve ever seen him dance. Both of you were laughing and life just felt like a movie or a song or both.
Brenda Lee was playing in the back and I knew I loved you then and I would love you forever. You were my family then and you always will be.
Now I’m not expecting you to come running back into my arms and start back up where we left it but if you find the time in your busy schedule to come see me during your holiday visit, that would mean the world to me.
Maybe listen to some Christmas tunes.
And even if you don’t I just wanted you to know that my favorite Christmas gift was you. Every year that we were together, it was always you.
I love you (still)
Eddie. “
A frantic knock sounds from the front door of the trailer and shakes Eddie from his nap on the couch. After not being able to sleep at all last night he must’ve dozed off somewhere between the morning cartoons and the breakfast TV.
He really needs to get Wayne one of those big ass keychains that you can clip to your jeans or something. That man forgets his keys at least 3 times a day.
“I’m coming, geez. Wayne, you really gotta — You’re not Wayne!”
She regards him with a smile and that special spark of magic in her eyes. The one he hasn’t seen in 4 years. The one he so desperately missed.
“Well, I hope not. Otherwise what I’m about to do would be pretty weird.”
“What are you — “
But he doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence when her lips meet his in a kiss. It’s sweet and chaotic and rushed and soft. Familiar and nostalgic. She feels so cold against his warm skin but she still tastes like peppermint and smells like winter.
“ So, “ she says as she pulls away from the kiss, just barely but enough to take a breath. “ wanna listen to some tunes?”
The Brenda Lee vinyl is clutched in her hand as she bites her lip in anticipation.
“ And when those blue snowflakes start falling
That's when those blue memories start calling “
Eddie and Reader are strangers turned friends turned lovers turned exes. We follow them on one really tense car ride and experience the ups and downs of their relationship through the songs playing on the radio.
Summary: Steve, having enough of his father's constant disapproval, needs to move out of his parents’ house. Reader is back in town after having inherited the old record store on main street, only she has no place to stay. Eddie, being friends with both, brings the two together and offers a solution. Though neither of them can afford a place by themselves, together they make enough to rent a little house at the edge of Hawkins. Follow the two as the navigate life together and deal with the feelings that arise eventually.
A love story told in 4 seasons.
Pairing: Steve Harrington x female Reader
Trigger Warning: Swearing. Mention of alcohol. Mention of food. Slight mention of intimate situations.
A/N: Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.
FALL // AUTUMN
Fall has slowly but surely taken up residency in Hawkins. Half the leaves have turned shades of orange and red while the rest have started deserting the trees and now crunch under your boot with every step you take.
Steve’s woolen sweater does little to keep the cold out but he’d quite honestly rather freeze to death out here leaning against the backdoor of Family Video than be warm and toasty at home.
“ You’re no fun today, dingus. What’s got you looking all gloomy? “ Robin asks before stuffing her face with another bite of her turkey sandwich.
“ Honestly Harrington. You’re a real downer. “ Eddie agrees, cigarette smoke flowing like a veil around his head.
“ Way to gang up on me guys. And anyway, why are you even here? You don’t work here.”
Eddie unabashedly shrugs his shoulders. Really it shouldn’t come as a surprise to Steve. Eddie has somehow made himself a permanent 3rd party in their chaotic friendship after the events of last spring. Wherever Robin and Steve go, Eddie goes. And while he drives him crazy sometimes with his inability to stay still for even a minute and his big mouth, Steve has to admit that he enjoys having another person around.
“ Maybe I want to rent a movie.”
“ You never rent a movie! You just make us bring them around so you don’t have to pay.”
“ He’s got a point there,” Robin admits, snapping her mouth shut when Eddie throws her a sour look.
“ It’s called being smart, Harrington. You should look it up. Anyway, back to you. Why the long face? You know those frowns are gonna leave wrinkles and your face is the best thing you got going for you. No offense.”
“ I take full offense in that actually. “
He doesn’t. It’s the foundation of their friendship — teasing. It comes with the situation. Befriending someone from high school you never thought you could ever have anything in common with is weird. Not a bad weird, but weird either way.
“ Cut the crap. What’s wrong, Steve? “
Robin isn’t serious a lot. Steve thinks he might be able to count the times on one hand. But when she is, it’s a little terrifying. It makes you want to open up to her just so you don’t let her down. There’s a motherly quality in Robin being serious. Steve isn’t sure he likes it.
“ My dad had a go at me again. You know, the usual. “ You amount to nothing. You’re a disappointment. You put shame on the Harrington name””.
“ I’m sorry, dingus. “
“ I just — I can’t deal with it anymore. I need to get out of that house. Every time I look at my dad I see disappointment in his eyes and every time I look at mom I see — nothing. It’s like she doesn’t really care at all. I’m sick of it. “
“ What happened to that place you went to check out the other day? “
Steve lets out a humorless chuckle “ That was perfect and way too expensive for just me. And anyway, what do I need two bedrooms for anyway? Now if one of youuu guys — “
“ Nope. I love living with my parents. They drive me everywhere, they wash my clothes. You know I would but I’m also not stupid. I'm not leaving the nest when it’s soooo comfortable. And I’ll be off to college soon anyway so — “
It sends a shiver through him, the thought of Robin leaving. Robin and Nancy and all of his old friends. Everyone makes their way out of Hawkins at some point, hell even the kids will leave someday in the not-so-distant future. There is nothing here for them. Everyone leaves but him. Well, he and —
“Eddie?”
No answer. Instead, Eddie seems caught in his own thoughts once again. It happens sometimes. He’s probably planning another d&d campaign or something like that, things Steve knows absolutely nothing about. Sometimes it’s endearing, sometimes it’s aggravating.
“Munson? “
“ Huh? What was that? “
“ You wanna move in with me? “
“ Oh absolutely not, we’d end up killing each other. But I might have an idea.”
A smirk spreads on Eddie’s lips that leave Steve feeling a bit uneasy. It’s not that Eddie has bad ideas or that they come from a bad place, he just tends to go over the top a lot of times.
“I hate the way that sounds, do you hate the way that sounds? “ Steve asks, turning to Robin who only shrugs her shoulders in reply.
“You’re gonna thank me later, Harrington. Trust me.”
Dropping his cigarette, Eddie walks past his friends, tussling Steve’s hair in the process, and leaves without as much as a goodbye.
“ Sooo, that’s a completely normal reaction and not totally weird or anything.”
“ Steve, it’s Eddie. What do you expect? But hey, maybe he’ll surprise us and actually has a good idea on how to get you out of your predicament.“
Yeah, maybe. Only it’s way past the time that believing in a maybe filled Steve with any sort of hope.
Maybe stopped sounding like a possibility a while ago.
Maybe is a pipe dream.
Maybe is disappointment wrapped in a neat pretty bow.
"Yeah, maybe.”
“Steve Harrington?”
“ Mmmh.”
“ Pretty boy Harrington?”
“ The very same.”
For the first time since he brought it up (Y/N) lifts her eyes away from the boxes of vinyl records and properly looks at Eddie.
The record store has that certain kind of boxed-in smell. Like dust and leather. Like old books and cardboard. Like home. And it’s hers now. All hers. With all the good and bad.
And there’s no record store without Eddie Munson.
“I’m still trying to come to terms with the fact that you are friends with Steve and now you’re asking me to move in with him?”
“I’m not asking you to do anything. I’m just offering a solution to a problem. Steve is — surprisingly kind of cool. He has a stable income, not much but stable. And he’s not nearly as messy as I am. You can take it or leave it. Just think sleeping in the backroom of the record store doesn’t sound super comfortable. “
He’s right. He usually is, (Y/N) just hates to let him know that. Boy gets awfully smug when he knows he’s right.
She’s not sure how many more nights she can go sleeping on the thin futon she keeps at the back office, without ruining her back for all eternity. It’s stuffy in here and nights get awfully cold. Maybe renting a place with Steve Harrington isn’t the worst of all scenarios. But it feels an awful lot like admitting defeat.
“I know what you’re thinking. This isn’t you failing, this is you accepting help from a friend, okay? “
There’s a sense of sincerity in Eddie’s deep brown eyes that she will never quite get used to. Beneath the teasing and the jokes there’s a bond so thick it can never be broken. A thread woven by two trailer park kids who never had anything but each other.
“ I hate that you know me so well.”
“ I know. But hey, if it makes you feel better you can return the favor.”
A smirk threatens to pull at the corner of his lips. Barely there but there after all. He knows that whatever he’s asking for, she’ll say yes. He’s her friend, her brother by choice not by blood. There is no way she’ll ever say no.
“ Oh yeah? And what favor would that be?”
“ Give me a job. “
“ Huh? “
“With everything that happened I can’t — I can’t continue dealing. And though I am officially acquitted that doesn’t mean shit in this hellhole of a town. So you can imagine how ecstatic businesses are about hiring Eddie Munson, acquitted in the eyes of the law but still a killer to all of Hawkins.”
She hates the way his voice shakes when he speaks. Though he tries to veil his pain with jokes and laughter, it doesn’t really work. There’s fear and sadness lacing his words. There was always a hidden sadness in this boy but ever since the incident of last spring, of which she still hasn’t heard the entire story, it’s more prominent, less hidden.
“ You’ll always have a job here if you want it. I hope you know that.”
“ Oh, I know.”
“ And I’ll be giving you all the shitty shifts.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything else. Aaand you’ll let me have band practice in the back? “
“ Of course.”
And when he smiles at her with the same smile of a 5-year-old Eddie, the one she ran through sprinklers with, the one whose ceiling she glued glow-in-the-dark stars to, she knows she did the right thing. And she’ll do it all over again for the rest of both their lives.
“Soooo I can tell Steve you’re in?”
“ You can tell Steve I’m willing to take a look at the place.”
An overgrown path flanked by elms and maple trees leads up to the property. It’s a kaleidoscope of reds and oranges, a few specks of green still trying to hold onto the last drops of summer. It feels like a dream, a watercolor painting of the perfect fall scenario. Picturesque. Beautiful.
The house is small but enough. It’s cute. It’s homey. There are two bedrooms, a small kitchen, an open area for living and dining, and a bathroom. The floor is brushed wood, the walls all painted a dusty off-white.
(Y/N) can see herself living here. She can almost smell the coffee rising from her mug as she lounges on the bench swing by the front porch. Can taste the lemonade and ice cream and beer she will hand out in summer as her friends hang out in the backyard. There’s a fireplace made for Christmas stockings and a hook on the front door to hang a floral wreath when springtime calls.
It’s easy to get lost in dreams of what could be. And then her eyes meet Steve across the way and she is being reminded of what is.
“ What do you think? “
I think it’s perfect.
I think I want to spend my whole life here.
I think I want to make this my home.
All those thoughts run through her head but none of them make it past her lips. She hardly knows this guy, there’s no way she’s gonna share all her heart's desires with him on a Tuesday morning when he hasn’t even had a coffee yet.
“ I think we’re gonna need a couch.”
She can almost see the gears turning and the lightbulb switching on as the words she spoke start registering in his mind. And then he smiles and she must admit, despite everything in her wanting to deny it, that Steve Harrington has a really great smile. One that almost brings a little glimpse of summer back into the cold fall morning.
“ So that’s a yes? “
“ Yes, Harrington. I think we should try this.”
He goes in for a hug then thinks better of it and pulls his arms quickly deciding to punch the air in excitement instead. There’s a nerdy quality to him. She wonders if he knows. It’s slightly endearing. Slightly.
“ Awesome. Cool. Great. Uh — I don’t have a couch but I do have a TV.”
“ Cool! I have a coffee machine, a record player, and a cat.”
Mondays are a drag. Even when you’re your own boss. It’s one of the basic pillars of humanity. Mondays suck.
The air is brisk and sharp when (Y/N) makes her way out of her cozy warm bedroom and steps into the living area of the house. The floor is cold beneath her bare feet. They really need to invest in a rug or something, she thinks before her eyes meet the empty living room. A rug and a couch.
Steve’s door is still closed. The guy doesn’t get up before noon if he doesn’t have to go to work. Or maybe he just doesn’t wander out of his room. It’s been two weeks now and living with him is surprisingly easy. He’s not loud, he’s not messy. He’s barely around as it is. Most of the time he’s either at work or hanging out with this girl called Robin. Who (Y/N) thinks might be his girlfriend, she’s not entirely sure though.
The captain, (Y/N)’s black cat who used to live in the alleyway behind the record store, weaves his way around her ankles, his soft fur brushing against her skin.
"You hungry Cap? Let me brush my teeth real quick and I'll feed you, okay?"
Cap looks up at her with big black eyes and that's as good a reply as she can expect from the chubby cat.
The bathroom of their new house is small and cluttered. There’s makeup and lotions and hair products everywhere. The shower curtain is an ugly shade of washed-out blue and a little too short, which results in the bathroom partially flooding every time someone takes a shower.
Their bathroom is a bit of a mess but it’s a controlled mess, one (Y/N) is slowly but surely getting used to. What she doesn’t expect is to open the door and be greeted by a half-naked stranger.
Confusion and shock color the blonde girl’s face as she catches sight of (Y/N) through the mirror. An oversize shirt falls down her body, ending just below her butt, a sliver of red panties peeking out as she turns around.
“Holy fuck, who the hell are you?”
“You know what, I was gonna ask you the exact same thing.”
“I’m Leslie,” the girl says matter-of-factly as if not knowing should make (Y/N) feel some kind of shame. It reminds her of the way Tammy Thompson used to talk after coming back from her Nashville trip that one time in year 10.
“Good for you, what are you doing in my bathroom?”
“ Uh — this is Steve’s bathroom.”
There’s a part of (Y/N) that wants to laugh. That wants to let out a hearty giggle and face the absolute ridiculousness of the situation. Though that part has to submit to the part of her that hates Monday mornings and hasn’t had a coffee yet.
“It’s also my bathroom. Do you see those lipsticks over there? You think those belong to Steve?”
Like the flip of a switch, the girl’s face falls. A deep unease settles over her features making her look much younger than the previous mask of post-coital confidence.
“Shit, are you the girlfriend?”
It’s not the first time someone has asked that question since they moved in together. It comes with the situation. There’s a certain expectation when people of different genders share a living space. (Y/N) thinks it’s absolute bullshit. Men and women can totally be just platonic friends. Not that her and Steve are even that.
“No I’m — you know what? Wait here.”
Life is just a sequence of battles being thrown your way. The art is to know which ones are worth fighting and which ones to pass on to your housemate.
A whiff of cold air slaps (Y/N) in the face as she opens the door to Steve’s room. The blue curtain flows with the breeze finding its way through the open window. It’s the first time she’s stepped foot in here since they properly moved in. His room smells clean, like crisp fall air and fresh linen. And a little bit like expensive cologne. There’s a dresser on one side of the room, his bed on the other. Other than that it’s pretty bare.
Wrinkled sheets hide the bottom half of Steve’s body, his chest proudly on display as he spreads out starfish-like on his bed. Man, that boy has a lot of chest hair. For a moment (Y/N)’s mind goes on a little time travel mission. Back to high school days. Back to when Steve was on the basketball team and took every chance to be on the skins team during training. Did he have as much chest hair then?
Before she can fully form the thought she shakes her head in displeasure. What business has she thinking about Steve Harrington’s fucking chest hair? Absolutely none.
“ Harrington, wake up.”
Nothing. Of course not.
God, she fucking hates Mondays.
“ Steve! Wake the fuck up!”
Absolutely no reaction.
Desperate times, desperate measures.
Grumbling to herself (Y/N) makes her way toward Steve’s sleeping form.
“I swear to god, if I end up seeing your penis I’m going to strangle you!”
In a swift motion, she grabs the pillow from beneath his head and smacks him across his stupid pretty face.
“What the fuck, (Y/N).”
“Oh, that does it then, physical violence?”
His voice is raspy and laced with sleep. It would be sexy if it was anyone but pretty boy Steve Harrington.
“What do you want?”
“I’d like to use my own bathroom in peace.”
Steve lifts his arms off of his face, regarding her with curious confusion. His eyebrow almost disappears behind his stupidly perfect hair. Where everyone else would sport an impressive case of bedhead, Steve’s mane looks perfectly styled as if every strand has been placed with precision. Maybe, she thinks, he’s some kind of wizard brewing potions and casting spells to keep his hair looking nice at all times.
Or maybe his hair is just that great.
“You need my help to go to the bathroom?”
“No, Harrington. I need you to get your friend out.”
“My frie — oh shit.”
He’s not naked. Thank god. He’s just wearing really tight boxer briefs. Gray ones.
It’s a face (Y/N) never thought she’d ever find out firsthand. Steve Harrington is a boxer briefs kinda guy. That’s another thing that comes with living together. Sooner or later you’ll figure out stuff about the other you never needed to know. You’ll know anyway. And from then on the knowledge is yours to do with as you see fit.
(Y/N) tries to push the info to the furthest corner of her brain, right there in a dusty box that holds most of what she learned in geometry class and the names of all the drunk girls she’s ever made friends with in a bar bathroom.
Then again, at least he’s not naked.
It takes Steve a full 25 minutes to convince Leslie that (Y/N) is in fact not his girlfriend and another 20 to get her out of the house. She leaves with a promise of him calling again. It’s a promise he has no intention of keeping, even (Y/N) can tell. It’s a soft lie. One meant not to hurt but to cushion the inevitable fall.
It’s gonna hurt anyway and for a second (Y/N) feels bad for the girl. Only for a second though. Her third cup of coffee washes away those feelings.
“I’m really sorry about that,” Steve exclaims as he drops down onto the floor next to her, his own cup of coffee in hand. “It’s not gonna happen again.”
“We should set up some rules.”
“For when we have dates over?”
“For living together.”
“Okay uh yeah — that makes sense. I guess.”
(Y/N) rips a page from one of the many notebooks lying around.
“What should I call it?” She asks before Steve takes the sharpie from her hand and scribbles something onto the blank page.
Steve and (Y/N)’s roommate rules.
“Okay sounds good. 1. Dates need to be out by morning or announced in advance. That cool with you?”
Steve nods his head in approval, hair shaking with every move.
“ Anything you wanna add? “
“ Mmmm.” His lips almost disappear with the way he sucks them in, trying to speak up but worried about upsetting her.
“ Spit it out, Harrington.”
“You play your music really loudly. And no offense but I can only do so much Bon Jovi before I want to stab a fork in my ear.”
“That is absolutely offensive and also blasphemy but I accept it. Put it on the list.”
A silence settles over the two as the morning sun rises above the horizon, throwing long rays of autumn sun through the windows. A scene quite serene and calm. If it wasn’t for the fact that (Y/N)’s ass is almost numb from sitting on the freezing cold floor.
“We need a fucking couch.”
“ We really do.”
(Y/N)’s eyes fall towards Steve’s figure sitting next to her. His chest still bare. His legs still bare. The guy is still in his boxer briefs and one lone sock.
“Put some clothes on man.”
3. No walking around in underwear.
A shrill beeping sound wakes Steve from a dreamless slumber. For a second his mind travels to bad places. Dark memories clouded in fear. Sounds from a world like this but different. Warped and disfigured and wrong.
Then his mind fog disappears slowly but surely and he realizes that he is in fact not in the upside down but at home. At home in his own house in his own room in his own bed.
And the sound? That’s the fire alarm.
Oh shit, the fire alarm.
Throwing his blanket off of himself, Steve hurries out of his room and rounds the corner expecting the worst. Ever since — things started happening, he always expects the worst.
He’s not greeted by flames. There is no fire. Nothing is ablaze.
But there’s (Y/N), looking down sadly at a tray of what he thinks might be muffins. If they’re supposed to be dark chocolate they look perfect. If they’re supposed to be anything else they’re badly burned.
“ What the hell is going on? “ he asks as he pushed the button, turning off the horrible beeping sound.
“ I was stress-baking and ended up forgetting about the muffins while they were in the oven. I blame that fancy-ass wine yours.”
When he left home, Steve took a few bottles of the expensive Cabernet his parents keep in their wine cabinet. Not because he likes to drink it, in fact, it all tastes like bitter, overpriced grape juice to him. No, that was purely out of spite.
“Why are you drinking wine and baking at — “ he glances at the clock on the microwave, “midnight? “
A strand of hair falls in front of her face and for a split second, he wants to push it away, comb it behind her ear. Then he reminds himself that he hardly knows the girl. You don’t go around brushing people’s hair off their faces if you don’t know them. That’s something intimate. Like kissing the top of someone's head. Like tugging them in when they fall asleep on the couch.
“Just — everything with the record store is stressing me out. I’ve never had to manage a whole store by myself. I don’t know the first thing about owning a business. And right now it’s still going alright but what if I mess up? What if people stop coming by and the store stops making money and then we will never be able to buy a couch.”
He’s not seen her like that before. Sad. He hates it. Her mouth is pulled into a frown and where her eyes usually glimmer with mischief and excitement, they look dull and glassy now.
He wants it on record that the glimmer in her eyes was something he discovered purely by accident and not because he looks at her that much. It’s all purely circumstantial.
“So I don’t know anything about owning a business. But I do know one thing.”
“ Yeah? And what’s that?”
“ No matter what happens. People will always need music. People will always need a record store.”
Many times in his life, Steve found himself in situations knowing he said the wrong thing at the wrong time. Stupid intrusive thoughts have tumbled from his lips too many times to count.
This time, he thinks he might’ve said exactly what needed to be said. At least if her smile is any indication of it.
“ Thanks, Harrington. That’s a very sweet thing to say.”
He shrugs his shoulders casually as if it’s no big deal.
It’s a little bit of a big deal.
“And about that couch? We’ll figure that out, I promise. In the meantime — “
He squats down to the floor, opens the cabinet beneath the kitchen sink, and pulls out the thick roll of shiny silver duct tape.
“What are you doing, you weirdo? “
“I’m planning.”
“Planning what? “
“ Our future.”
With a determination that’s even foreign to himself, Steve struts into the living area and kneels down on where the couch would be.
“Come on, come sit on our couch.”
Slowly but surely he creates a, someone lopsided and imperfect, duct tape outline on the wooden floors.
He can almost see it. A cozy L-shaped sofa in the middle of the room. Maybe a nice forest green. Maybe shiny brown leather.
It doesn’t matter really. It will be theirs. In his own home. That he pays for with his own money. Where disappointment doesn’t try to grab and pull at him from every corner. Where he is just Steve and that’s enough.
"Hey, (Y/N)?"
"Yeah?"
"No more midnight baking, okay? Can we put that on the list?"
She laughs and nods.
"Yeah, that's okay with me. Hey, you know what?” (Y/N) asks as she drops down on the floor next to him, crossing her legs and handing a glass of wine to him, keeping one to herself.
“What’s that?”
“I really enjoy living with you. I think we’re a good team.”
“Yeah, I think so too.”
“You know what else?”
“Hmmm?”
“I can’t wait to decorate our house for Christmas.”
Our house.
Steve nods and takes a sip from the glass. Yup, still bitter and overpriced grape juice.
“Maybe by winter we’ll have a couch.”
Laughter echoes through the halls of the little house as it stands nestled between elms and maple trees. The night is inky black but the little light that comes from the house casts a glow into the dark.
There is no pain in this house. It doesn’t live here anymore. There is only laughter. And friendship. And the promise of something more. Something grand. Something that is entirely their own.
Sometimes a maybe is more than disappointment wrapped in a pretty bow.
Sometimes maybe is a chance.
Sometimes maybe is the beginning of something wonderful.
She said, “Ooh-ooh-ooh”
Kiss me like your ex is in the room
- x by the jonas brothers featuring karol g
Plot: Each dealing with the aftermath of a break up, Y/N and Steve Harrington decide that the best way to deal with their heartbreak is for them to fake date, in the hopes it makes their exes jealous.
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Female!Reader
Warnings: Mentions of heartbreak if that sort of stuff upsets you. As always, if I miss any triggers, please let me know.
Notes: I’ve had this idea for ages, and it’s taken me so long to write, but here we are. Once again, not beta’d, so any mistakes are my own.
I live for this story I’m not even joking. This is some of the best writing I have ever read on this entire website in all my ... almost 10 years on tumblr. (Embarrassing to admit I’ve been stuck on this hellsite for so long but oh well)
Eddie joins the California rock band The Wylde Hearts on their first ever US tour as a roadie. Life happens. Love happens. Hearts breaks and are put back together.
A 1970s AU inspired by the movie Almost Famous and the book Daisy Jones and the Six.
Chapters:
Hawkins or “That is who I am and who I want to be.”
