Side blog for @yikesitslush I reblog things so I have a record of them and can read them later(lots of masterlists for my favorite authors) nothing I post is mine unless otherwise stated and if you have a problem with me reposting your stuff just say something
Hello girlypop I was wondering if you could request a crisp autumn match. It would legit make my day I think they are so fun.💚My house is Slytherin, my favorite spot in the castle is the astronomy tower, my favorite class is potions, I’m a huge stoner but I don’t give off stoner vibes so when people find that out about me they are often surprised also I just wanted to add I have an extremely cute cat named Padmé since she is my child. I can’t wait to find out who you think is my perfect match
°•*⁀➷ crisp autumn match // my 1k celebration
╰┈➤ theodore nott
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
♡ theo and you weren’t ever friends. sure, you were in the same house and saw eachother quite often
♡ but still, you had never gotten the opportunity to talk to him alone
♡ one day, you went to the astronomy tower for your usual smoke and there he was
♡ “come here often ?” he asked with a grin, his eyes curious when he saw the joint between your fingers, very similar to the one he was holding
♡ you to stayed there and chatted for hours, giggling at every word the other said
♡ these smoking sessions soon became a regular thing between the two of you
♡ you’d just discuss whatever came to mind, the conversation flowing naturally and without any uncomfortable silences
♡ he would talk about quidditch and you somehow managed to mention your beloved cat in every single sentence, before you two would get into unrelated debates
♡ and that was it, all you ever needed. just you and him, away from everyone else
summary: you have a unique relationship with your best friend eddie. he assures you that best friends make out, grind against each other, and keep it all secret. but when you try to do the same with your other best friend, steve, all of your relationships take an interesting turn.
warnings: nsfw, 18+, minors dni. dubcon. perv!eddie, perv!steve, innocent!reader. softdom!eddie. nicknames used: sweetheart, honey, slut. use of y/n. p in v, no protection (wrap it before you tap it, kids). oral (f and m receiving). bit of steve grappling with the fact that he's bi.
a/n: based on this text post that gained some traction. enjoy <3
Eddie hated to bail on you. Every time he did, he'd always press his lips to your forehead and rock you back and forth in his arms, swaying from foot to foot as he held you. You didn't mind. He didn't do it often, and he'd always make it up to you. Just the thought of what he'd do the next time you hung out made your tummy tingle. You tried to ignore it. You wanted to give Steve your undivided attention. He'd stepped up after Eddie had cancelled on you.
"Right, popcorn, pajamas, some sappy romcom." Steve walked into his living room, carrying a bowl of popcorn in one hand and a soda in the other. "Anything we're missing?"
"Extra butter?"
He wrinkled his nose. "Yeah, it's soaked in it, Y/N. I don't think I can eat it."
You reached out with grabby hands and took the bowl into your lap. "More for me."
"Great." Steve cracked the can open and plopped down beside you. "Can we at least watch one of my picks after this?"
"Maybe."
He scowled at you, but turned obediently to watch the film nonetheless. You'd just said 'maybe' to tease him. You couldn't say 'no' to Steve -- not seriously. He was so sweet, always letting you have your way -- unless it was bad for you, then he put his foot down. Steve said it was because he didn't have a girlfriend to spoil, so all his attention went to you. You didn't mind that, either.
Eddie and Steve were your best friends. They might not have liked each other very much, but that didn't matter. They didn't have to be friends. But you couldn't understand why they didn't like each other. They were both kind, and funny, and liked to take charge. Maybe that was it. They cared about their friends, were brave, were curious. They made you feel good.
Your tummy twisted excitedly again. Yeah, Eddie made you feel very good.
At first, you hadn't been so certain. Eddie's lingering, exploring hands made your tummy flip, your heart flutter. But when he asked if you wanted him to stop, you said 'no.' It felt good. And Eddie understood.
"I know, honey, oh, I know," he'd always coo into your ear as he worked you on his hand until you whined. He knew how hard it was to get worked up so easily. "I'll help you."
That was what best friends were for, right? Eddie had told you that after the first night you spent grinding on his thigh.
"Best friends help each other out just like we do. They're honest with each other, too; tell each other when it gets uncomfortable and they want to stop. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?"
Of course you could. You would do anything for Eddie.
Just the thought made you squeeze your thighs together. By the time the movie was reaching its predictable climax, you were squirming at the memory of Eddie slowly working you open on his fingers.
"Please, Eddie -- need you inside me."
But he'd just shook his head. "One day soon, honey. Just not now."
But when was soon? You flexed your toes, twisted your ankles around, barely paying attention anymore. Steve's hand came down on your feet, which were resting in his lap. You jolted back to reality. Your head was still a little hazy from all your daydreaming.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"Nothing, just feel funny. You know."
Steve gave you a quizzical look, then squeezed your ankle. "Can I help?"
You sat up a little straighter. "Y-You wanna help me?" You'd never gone to Steve for help with anything like this before. Always Eddie. But he was your best friend, too, wasn't he?
He scoffed. "Uh, yeah, that's what best friends are for, right? Come on, lay it on me."
You gathered up the blanket and, without hesitating, sat on Steve's thigh facing the TV. You tucked the blankets in around you, making sure you were both comfy. Steve's hands hovered near your waist. Uncertain. Well, this was his first time with you, after all.
"Thanks," you sighed, and began to rock to and fro on his thigh, grinding against his hard, clenched muscle. Within a few seconds, you'd worked yourself back into a daze, the movie just a blur of colour and sound.
\
This was not happening. There was no way.
But there you were in Steve's lap, rutting against his thigh like a soft little kitten in heat. He kept one hand hovering near your waist, just in case you lost your balance. The other gripped the back of the couch.
He didn't want to scare you off by jumping up and losing his cool. He knew that would just make you retreat further, and then he'd never get anything out of you. And he certainly wasn't complaining. But people didn't just... do this. He shucked the blanket off, just to make sure he wasn't dreaming this up. But there you were in your little PJ shorts, rutting away against him.
"Feeling a little better, sweetheart?" he asked after a few minutes.
You nodded and hummed, holding his knee for balance.
"You do this kind of thing with anyone else? S'okay, you can tell me."
"Uh-huh. Eddie."
"Oh. Eddie, huh? Why him?"
"C-Cause we're best friends," you said as if it were obvious, a little out of breath. "He told me best friends help each other."
Bastard. Leave it to Munson to use your innocence like this. But still, Steve was intrigued.
"What else did he tell you?"
"That best friends can shower together, change in front of each other, and kiss. That -- I'm sorry, Stevie, can I face you?" You stopped, glancing back over your shoulder at him. "Eddie lets me hold onto him."
This had to be a dream. But the wet patch on Steve's jeans from your rutting was real enough. Steve nodded absently. This time, when you settled in his lap, he wrapped one arm around your waist. Your arms came around his shoulders, face nuzzled deep in his neck. Your hot breath tickled just beneath his ear.
"He told me that best friends practice this sort of thing on one another. And that best friends can say 'no' if they're not comfortable, and the other friend always listens and stops."
At least he added a consent clause. That meant Eddie was somewhat redeemable. As you continued to rock against Steve's thigh, his mind was torn in two. He really should tell you that Eddie was lying. That best friends definitely didn't do this normally, and what you had was more friends-with-benefits if anything.
But then you mewled. So sweet and wanton it made him delirious with the thought of taking you right there and then. Instead, he palmed himself through his jeans. You turned your head, feeling his movements.
"You want some help? Eddie taught me how to do it with my hands. And my mouth, if that's what you want."
God fucking dammit. "No, Y/N, you just focus on yourself, okay?"
He wanted to control himself, he really did. He prided himself in being the gentleman -- at least, nowadays he did. But Steve soon found himself unbuckling his jeans and shoving them down just far enough to pull his cock out and stroke it.
Steve started to shake his leg, bouncing you a little, and your dug your fingers into the flesh of his back through his shirt. Your knees pressed into his thigh, seeking more purchase.
"Aw, you like that?" he drawled.
You nodded, unable to speak, rocking your hips hard against him. He spat in his hand, twisting his wrist expertly as he jerked himself off with one hand and helped you ride his thigh with the other. Your little moans pitched higher and higher until --
"Nnnh, Steve! Oh God..."
Just hearing your desperate moans, the way your voice shivered as you called out his name, sent Steve over the edge he hadn't even realized he'd been approaching. He tried to aim away from you, but ropes of hot cum splattered over your thigh.
You slowed, thighs clenching around his leg, fingers tangled in his hair. Settling into him. He rubbed a hand up and down your back.
"Feel better now?" he asked.
You nodded. "Can I stay here? Sometimes I need another one. Eddie calls me greedy."
"Aw, that's not very nice. You can have whatever you want from me, sweetheart. But first we gotta get you cleaned up. Hold on tight."
You did as he told you. Steve reached over to grab a box of tissues to clean you and him up. By the time he was done, your hips were already rolling, searching out sweet friction.
"Y/N," he stopped you before you left for the night, "could you give me Eddie's number? I have some old records I'm looking to sell."
You cocked your head to the side. "Records? Stevie, I don't think you and Eddie have the same taste."
"I wouldn't be so sure about that."
You shrugged and wrote it down. The second you got into your car and sped off, Steve ripped the phone from its cradle and began dialing. He smirked when Eddie answered groggily.
"Hello?"
"Eddie? It's Steve."
"Harrington? Jesus, why're you calling me this late?"
"I just had a very interesting conversation with our best friend Y/N."
Silence. Heavy, crackling silence. Then, "I can explain."
"Nah, no I don't want you to explain."
"Then what do you want?"
Steve hesitated. Just for a second. Just long enough to know this was what he wanted. Just long enough to make Eddie squirm.
"When are you free next?"
\
Steve's house. Friday night. You were going to help him bake a cake for Dustin's birthday, then you'd stay the night. He promised he'd take you to that new diner that had opened up on the edge of town, where they said the pancakes were stacked a mile high on rivers of maple syrup. You skipped up the steps to his door and let yourself in.
"I'm here!" you called as you hung up your coat and toed off your shoes. "I brought sprinkles and chocolate sauce, just in case you needed it. If not, we can make sundaes!"
"How domestic."
You halted between the front hall and the living room, from which the voice had come. It was a familiar voice; just unfamiliar in that setting. Your stomach flipped to see Eddie sitting back on Steve's floral couch, picking at a hole in his jeans.
"Eddie? What are you doing here?"
"I was going to ask you the same thing. You told me you were home studying tonight."
Uh-oh. You hadn't told Eddie the truth because you knew that he didn't like Steve very much. You looked down at your socked feet. Eddie stood up, walked over, and tilted you head up with one finger on your chin.
"'m not. Steve just called and asked if I wanted to help him bake a cake, you know for Dustin's birthday. That's all."
"If that's all, then why not tell me?"
Just then, Steve came upstairs from the basement, where you and him usually had your movie nights. He didn't seem surprised at all to see you -- or Eddie.
"Did you not want me to know you were hanging out with Steve?" Eddie supplied, tilting his head to the side.
"Aw, that can't be it," Steve said as he approached. "You're not ashamed of me, are you, Y/N?"
"N-No. You're -- Steve's my friend." Your eyes darted back to meet Eddie's, mustering all the confidence you could find. "He's my friend, and sometimes I hang out with him."
"Your friend?" Steve's hands came from behind to slip around your wrists. His big, warm body rested behind you, your shoulders meeting his chest. He bent at the middle to rest his chin in the crook of your neck. His breath tickled your ear. "I thought we were best friends."
Eddie sighed sadly, carding his fingers through your hair. "He told me, Y/N. Filled me in on your little movie night fun, and to tell you the truth, I was a little hurt." He shot you a frown, his wide, dark eyes pitiful. "I thought you only did that stuff with me. Thought I had you all to myself."
As he spoke, he moved his thumb to your chin, pulling your lips apart just a little before running it down the front of your throat, adding just enough pressure to make you gasp.
"I-I'm sorry, Eddie. I just -- he's... You're both --"
"But the more I thought about it," he cut you off, and if he'd heard a word of your stammered apology he didn't show it, "the more Steve told me about your shameless rutting again and again and again against his thigh," he stepped closer, cold belt buckle pressing into your tummy, "the more I realized that I wasn't feeling jealous. I just wished I had been there to watch you come apart."
"I'm sorry, Eddie," you said with a pout. And you really were; the thought of him feeling left out made your tummy clench with guilt and pity.
Eddie cupped your face in both hands. He made you feel impossibly small when he did that, his warm, solid grip engulfing you. You wanted to reach up and embrace him. But Steve still held you back, thumbs tracing circles on your inner wrists.
"Aw, baby, I know," Eddie cooed. "But Steve and I talked for awhile, and we agreed that a girl like you can have two best friends. But is that what you want?"
"It would be double the work," Steve warned you, still at your ear. "But it'd be double the fun, too."
You nodded without thinking, then said, "Yes!" You glanced back at Steve, then to Eddie again. "Yes, I want both of you. Please?"
"Oh, she's so polite." Steve grinned up at Eddie. "You teach her that?"
"You're welcome," was Eddie's response before he turned back to you, rubbing circles against the apples of your cheeks. "Why don't we go downstairs and have a little fun, hm? Still feeling a little hurt over here -- maybe you can make it up to me."
"But what about the cake?"
You felt Steve's chuckle rumble against your back. "We'll worry about that later. C'mon, I wanna see what else Eddie's taught you. Is that okay with you?"
It was more than okay. "Yeah, yes," you replied, remembering Eddie's rule about verbal consent. Your tummy did little flips all the way down to the basement where Steve's rec room and bedroom were situated.
The three of you stood at the foot of Steve's bed for a moment. You held both of their hands, not sure where to begin. But Eddie soon slipped from your grip and he came to sit on the edge of the bed, facing the two of you.
"How many times have you been with Steve, sweetheart?"
You felt your face heat up at the question. "Just once."
"Then he hasn't seen much of you, has he. Such a shame; you're such a pretty little thing. Would it be okay if I played with you a little, and we let Steve watch?"
You were in his lap, your mumbled yes against his cheek as you kissed it and then turned to face Steve. Eddie shuffled back so that the two of you sat at the centre of the bed. You were glad you'd worn a skirt. You settled back into him and hooked your ankles over his, spreading your legs.
"Doesn't even have to be asked." Steve's words were an impressed whisper.
"Nah, she's eager. Every time we hang out -- 'Eddie, can we play? Can you play with me?' and assumes the position." His warm hands massaged your legs, fingertips just brushing your inner thighs. "Surprised she hasn't done with with you."
"She jumped into my lap pretty quick. Wasn't too keen on leaving it, either."
Eddie tilted his head to the side so that he could look at your face. "Is that right? Did Steve make you feel good, sweetheart?"
You nodded, already squirming under his touch. Eddie's middle finger traced the edge of your panties, around one leg and then the other.
"Better than I make you feel?"
"I -- um..."
Eddie smirked, and you knew he was joking. "Aw, sweetheart, don't worry. I know." He flipped your skirt up. "Nobody can make you feel the way I do."
You felt exposed, the wet patch on your panties growing with every second as Eddie squeezed your thighs and pressed kisses to your neck and shoulders. Steve sank down into the fat, leather armchair in the corner of his room, taking in the show. Eddie's lips were at your ear. His voice was just soft enough that only you could hear.
"You okay, sweetheart?"
"Y-Yeah..."
"Just nervous?" You nodded, and he kissed the shell of your ear. "Aw, you're okay. I'm right here. We're all friends, and if you wanna stop or slow down, you just tell us. 'Kay?"
"You and Steve are friends?"
"What're you two saying over there?" Steve chuckled, and the two of you glanced over at him.
"You and Eddie are friends, right?" you asked a little louder.
Steve's eyes darted over your shoulder, then back to you. "Yeah, 'course we are."
"So you.." Your breath hitched as Eddie rubbed the heel of his hand against your core. "You help each other, like you guys help me?"
Steve opened and closed his mouth, momentarily stunned. "Wh... Well..."
"We haven't done anything like that. Yet." There was a smirk in Eddie's voice. "Would you be up for that, Stevie?"
Steve licked his lips, eyes flitting between you and Eddie. "I mean... Would you want to see that, Y/N?"
Eddie chuckled. "Considering how wet she just got, I think she would." He slid his fingers into the waistband of your panties. "Let's take these off. Hm?"
You lifted you ass up off the bed, letting Eddie slip your panties down your legs. You kicked them onto the floor. Steve let out a soft groan and settled further into his seat, lower lip disappearing between his teeth only to come back rosy and a little swollen.
Eddie knew just what to do. His expert fingers dipped into your opening, only to come up and circle your clit. You hadn't realized how much tension had developed until he'd at last made contact. You let out a sigh, tipping your head back to rest on Eddie's chest. You felt a laugh rumble against you.
"Just brushed your clit and you're already mewling." Eddie's other hand came up to your jaw, adjusting you so you looked at Steve. "You're both so desperate. Look at him over there, sweetheart."
You opened your eyes to see Steve palming himself through his jeans.
"So worked up," Eddie cooed. "It would be adorable if it weren't so fucking hot."
Eddie went easy on you, sliding one finger into your folds and slowly working you open, his palm adding delicious pressure to your clit. Seeing Steve getting himself worked up in the corner only made it sweeter, and by the time Eddie added a second finger, your hands were up and tangled in his hair. He slid his fingers out of you to suck them clean, moaning around them as he did so.
"Fuck." His voice was hoarse. "Wanna taste?"
You nearly nodded, but his eyes weren't on you. Steve didn't have to be asked twice; he was on his knees in front of you before Eddie had even scooted you both to the edge of the bed. Steve bent to press a kiss to the inside of your ankle. He worked his way up your leg to your knee, then down your inner thigh until he licked a stripe from your opening up to your clit. You let your eyes flutter shut.
\
It was going to be a long night. But Eddie wouldn't have had it any other way.
Eddie had your hands in his, squeezing as Steve sucked your clit hard and you clenched around his fingers. You squirmed around between Eddie's legs, searching for more friction.
"It was like she was in heat, man." Steve had been breathless when he'd recounted his experience with you a few nights prior. "She just... fuck..."
Steve's voice had been deep with arousal, his words distracted. Eddie hadn't planned on jerking off that night. But after that phone call... He couldn't tell if it was the thought of you riding Steve's thigh or the fact that Steve had so openly told him about it, but his orgasm had come quick and hard, doubling him over with its intensity.
Steve's hands were on your knees. Naturally, trying to keep your legs apart. His face was buried in your pussy, his chin slicker every time he surfaced for air. Eddie untangled one of his hands from yours and flipped your top up.
"No bra? Fucking slut, you knew you were going to get some tonight."
You could only mewl in response as he took your tits in his hands and pinched your nipples. He moved his feet further apart, spreading your legs. Steve's hands came down to cup your ass --
No. Eddie stiffened a little before he softened into Steve's grip. Steve's dark eyes flickered up to meet his, questioning. His big hands were on Eddie's thighs, squeezing a little. Eddie gave him a little nod. Interesting development.
"How does she taste?" Eddie asked, trying to keep himself grounded.
Steve replied with a muffle groan, his brow furrowing. Eddie's hand shot out to grip Steve's hair, and he pulled him up, away from your pussy, to look into his eyes.
"Use your words."
"So good, so fucking good." Steve was breathless again, sounding the same as he'd sounded that night.
When he went to return to eating your pussy, Eddie grip tightened and he yanked him back up.
"Don't be greedy." Eddie smirked when a flushed crept over Steve's face. "I'm the one she's making it up to tonight, remember?"
"Can I taste you, Eddie?" you asked, the first coherent sentence in awhile. "Please?"
Eddie ran a hand through your hair. "Aw. Can't say no to you, can I?" You got up, bouncing to your feet beside Steve, and Eddie undid his belt. "But we do this my way. Stay on your knees, Harrington, but get rid of your clothes." Eddie shoved his jeans and boxers down at once, letting out a sigh of relief as his cock sprung free. "Y/N, you're gonna suck my cock and ride Steve, alright? Both of you facing me."
"Is he always this demanding?" Steve scoffed, and you let out a giggle.
Eddie tilted his head. "You tapping out?"
Steve shook his head and undid his pants. Eddie tried not to stare, but when he saw your own gaze drifting to Steve, he grinned.
"Like what you see, Y/N?" Eddie sat back, stroking his cock, spreading the precum that beaded at its slit. "Why don't you get settled on him? I'm patient, I'll wait."
\
Steve held your hip with one hand and braced himself on the ground with the other. You brought yourself down onto his lap, his cock against the curve of your ass and your legs on either side of his. He didn't know where to look: down at your tits, exposed now that you threw your top into the corner; at your ass as he unpinned your skirt and let it slip off; or up at Eddie, who stroked his cock with languid, lazy movements, drawing out every sensation.
Steve's eyes fluttered shut when you sank down on his cock.
"Ffffuck," he grit out through his teeth, your warm, wet heat consuming him, gripping him as he stretched you out. "Oh, fuck, Y/N. You feel so good."
"Play with her tits," he heard Eddie say. "She likes that."
Steve blindly brought his hands up, not trusting himself to keep control if he saw you or Eddie right then. God, you were so soft in his hands. You rolled your hips, your cunt fluttering around him as you moved. He opened his eyes to find you gripping the edge of the bed.
"How's that feel, sweetheart?" Eddie asked. "C'mon, tell Steve how good his cock feels."
"S-so full," you choked out. "Can feel you in my stomach."
Eddie laughed, then leaned forward a little. "Wanna feel me in your throat?"
He tapped the head of his cock against your lips, and Steve groaned as he watched your mouth open, tongue out, and you leaned forward to take Eddie's cock. Steve wrapped an arm around your waist, guiding you up and down, as you busied your hands and mouth. He could only see your head bobbing. Hear the filthy slurping that muffled your moans as he fucked his cock up into you.
Eddie's gaze traveled lazily to his, and a slow grin spread across his face.
"Getting jealous back there?"
"I'm balls deep in her, man. I'm good."
"Didn't say you were jealous of me." Eddie leaned forward, fingers pushing a lock of Steve's hair back from his face. His thumb came down to trace Steve's lower up. "You want a taste?"
Steve's surprise must have shown on his face, because Eddie quickly followed up with, "Or should we save that for next time?"
"N-next time."
Eddie sat back on his elbows, hips jerking up. "Fuck... Hear that, sweetheart? I'm all yours tonight."
\
To say it was overwhelming was an understatement. Being with both of them at once was an assault on the senses -- or maybe a symphony. One cock buried deep in your pussy, sensitive from so much playing, and another slipping your your throat. If it had been with anyone else, you might have called things to a stop.
But Steve's arms were wrapped around you, keeping you grounded at he pounded up into you. One hand came down to your puffy clit, copying what he'd seen Eddie do, wringing out moans muffled by Eddie's cock. And Eddie -- he had one hand in your hair, fingers softly scratching your scalp, putting you into a daze.
Finally, Eddie pushed you off of his cock and sat back, watching you as you put all of your focus into riding Steve.
"You gonna cum, Harrington?" he asked, stroking his cock, which was pink and slick from your attention.
"Mmn," Steve moaned behind you, "could go all night."
He didn't sound like he could. He sounded right on the edge. You leaned back, one hand coming around the back of his neck.
"Please, Stevie," you whispered. "Want you to cum inside me. Wanna feel your cock pulsing and throbbing..."
"Fuck..." His forehead was on your shoulder, both hands on your hips now, driving you down onto his cock.
"Cum for us, Steve," Eddie said, and you felt Steve's hips stutter in their rhythm.
Heat spread through you as Steve came, and he bit into your shoulder -- though it did little to quiet him.
"Fuck," he repeated against your skin. "Sorry, baby."
"No, it's okay. It's just our first time." You turned a little to press a kiss to his cheek. "Just gotta learn each other's bodies, that's all."
"Mmm, I can't wait." Steve nuzzled into your neck, peppering you with kisses.
Eddie whistled. The two of you looked up to see him crooking two fingers at you.
"If you lovers are done basking in the afterglow?"
Getting up from Steve's lap, you felt woefully empty without him. But the moment you knees hit the bed, Eddie had you on your back, licking into your mouth. His cock wasn't as long as Steve's, but it was thicker, and stretched you in an entirely different way. The orgasm that had built up as you'd ridden Steve roared back to life as Eddie gave you a couple slow, gentle thrusts.
"You wanna make her cum? She likes things a little rough." He snapped his hips against yours, balls slapping your ass, and you let out a choked moan. "Hit that spot inside her, hard, and she'll fucking fall apart for you. Won't you, sweetheart?"
You weren't exactly sure what was being asked of you, but you nodded anyway. Eddie held your hips, dragging you onto his cock. You heard him say something to Steve, and suddenly Steve's hot mouth was sealed around one of your nipples. His teeth grazed the sensitive skin there. You gripped the pillow behind your head, trying to move your hips to meet Eddie's thrusts.
"Don't worry, sweetheart, I've got you." Eddie's thumb came down to play with your clit, and all you could do was wrap your legs around his waist.
All you could hear was your heart thudding, skin slapping against skin, and the soft smack of lips -- you opened your eyes to find Eddie's hand on the back of Steve's head, lips locked in a slow, sensual kiss.
It was all suddenly too much. Eddie's expert fingers on your clit, his cock slamming into you, seeing them entangled like that. You didn't know whose name to call out -- not that you could form words. Your orgasm crashed over you, your legs shaking, and the boys finally tore away from one another to watch you shudder and moan beneath them. Eddie followed quickly after you, whispering sweet praises to you and Steve before he choked on his words and came, forehead pressed to yours.
Steve and Eddie laid down on either side of you, all of you out of breath. You could feel their cum leaking out of you, but you didn't care. Before your heart could slow down, Steve was throwing a blanket over you and Eddie was petting your hair.
"You okay, sweetheart? That was a lot."
You nodded. "Kinda sore, though."
"Aw, I'm sorry," Steve cooed, kissing your neck. "Why don't you take a nap before dinner?"
"Then we can keep going?"
Steve's eyes widened and he looked to Eddie. Eddie just shrugged.
"Told you. Greedy." Eddie kissed your forehead. "Yeah, sweetheart. We can keep going."
"'m not greedy," you whined. "Wanting both of you isn't greedy."
"Guess that puts me in the clear." Eddie glanced up at Steve. "How about you, Harrington?"
Steve thought for a moment. "Yeah, guess we're in agreement on this one."
You didn't know exactly what you all agreed to. Sometimes, you felt like the boys knew, but you didn't have a clue. But this time, you felt like maybe none of you knew exactly what you were getting into -- but you knew it felt good, and that you wanted it.
Can someone help me find this fic I read a while back. It’s kind of a Eddie x reader x Steve thing going on where innocent reader was helping Eddie get off and got off herself with his help because as he put it that is what friends are for. And so one time while reader is with Steve he can tell something is up with them because they are incredibly horny and Steve is all like “I’m one of your best friends let me help” and then reader just goes to town and Steve is all like wtf who taught you this was ok
❒ warnings: swearing! hickeys! katsuki accidentally leaves a burn imprint on your hip? idk if that's how it works or whtv but yeh
❒ wc: 1.5k
─❒ authors note: inspired [reel]. too lazy to read over it again to check for mistakes. I'm just pathetic for soft and rough bakugou. pathetic in 2 very different ways but pathetic nonetheless and altogether. WRITING IS SELF INDULGENT isn't it🤭. Yes I'm still trying with this whole smut thingyy
Bundled sheets are crinkled between his rough and scarred fingers. His grip is tight and unrelenting as the pleasure builds to new heights from the persistent snapping of his hips and the way you tighten around him. Katsuki's ragged breathing and drunken words of assertion whisper seductively into your ear as he forces your body to keep up with him; as he demands you stay with him as he loses himself.
"Slow down... Ka-Katsuki" You plead through whimpering stutters.
"No" He'd snap back almost immediately, raising his head to glance at your face that twists and contorts in minor discomfort hidden beneath the face of pleasure with every small movement he makes, and he's so beyond enamoured by the way your brows furrow when your diluted pupils' peak at him through lidded eyes before rolling back as he rubs himself back and forth against you. His eyes soften at the sight of your responsive reaction, and the sweat accumulates on your face as you give yourself to him despite exhaustion.
In a split second, Katsuki's brought down to earth and he's shoving his cock deep inside you, settling firmly pressed up against your heaving chest as you fall numb against the mattress, encaged between his flexed arms and the warmth radiating from your entangled limbs.
"No" He repeats softer than the first time, his thumb brushing circles on your flustered cheeks. "Don't want to"
"Just need a sec- Kats" You reassure weakly, taking advantage of the steady pace he sets just to talk to you. "Just a sec"
"Fine" He huffs, "But 'm not pulling out"
You murmured a frail, 'okay', allowing your eyes to fall shut and your hands to slip from his hair and fall to the bed. Bakugou does not approve but he figures he can give you a second or two.
As you're recuperating, Bakugou's anxious and can't find it in himself to be completely still so he resorts to fidgeting with the sheets, only it doesn't do much as his restlessness continues to grow at an agitatingly fast rate. His tongue swipes across his teeth in a consecutive back-and-forth motion, clinking now and then as he looks for something to occupy his fidgetiness.
"Wanna move" He says and it hasn't even been two minutes.
"Can't keep up with you" You chuckled, looping your arms around his neck.
"Don't care" But his actions say otherwise as he does not attempt to move without your consent. Alas, he sighs and resorts to burying his face deeply in the crook of your neck where his lips press to your heated skin.
His hair lay in disarray at the top of his head with a few loose strands sticking to his forehead, and your hand finds comfort between the unruly locks attempting to salvage the mess.
"Yeah, fuck you make me crazy" He exhaled deeply with a glare burning into your neck. He's unable to comprehend the way you're making him feel and all you're doing is brushing your hands through his hair.
"S not fucking fair" He curses, smothering your neck and throat and shoulders with wet kisses and long-striding swipes of his tongue until it grows sensitive beneath his determination.
Katsuki shifts, starting up a slow but consistent pace with his cock burying between your walls, a replenished moan erupts from your throat and it deafens him; forcing him into a blinded state of bliss that he barely realizes the flickering of sparks beneath his hand and the way his nails dig deep into your hip, not even when you screech his name out between what he derives as a sultry moan and an aching groan. So far into his delusions that he doesn't acknowledge the way your hand grips his biceps for relief or the way your body curves upward against him, trying to wriggle out of his grip which only forces him deeper than he has ever been before.
With each breath that tugs from his lungs, Katsuki loses control.
A cloud of disbelief fogs his mind as he tries to understand how something he's done so many times before can only get better; can only feel so entirely new like it's the very first time you've been this intimate when the experience of his and your actions denote otherwise.
He swears incoherently into your ear until you utter his name between sobs, the safe word you've only used once before making its way out of your swollen lips.
Bakugou stops.
"Fuck" He mutters in panic, hooded eyes widening as his brows pinched into a frown.
"Sorry baby" He's apologizing wholeheartedly, cock twitching in desperate need of continuation but against his desires he pulls out, dragging a heavy breath from your chest as he does. His hands find their place on your cheeks and he's doing a quick once over your body, eyes landing on the reddened area where his hands before cupping your cheeks are imprinted on a bright shade of red.
"Fuck"
"Said that already" You chuckled, tears falling down your cheeks. "M'kay" You assured and you meant it. "Was a little shocked is all"
"Fuck..." He gruffly mutters at himself while brushing his thumb over the tender and sensitive skin causing you to flinch. "I'm gonna get ice"
As he says this, he's already pushing himself off you against your will and rushing to grab an ice pack stored in the freezer.
"Come back here, Katsuki" He hears you calling him just as he re-enters the room. The sound of his name pleading from your lips as you instantly miss his warmth and company exhilarates the organ pumping blood throughout his body.
Katsuki's knees dig into the mattress when he gets onto the bed and you feel the weight dipping in its favour. The sight of his hovering figure above you then returns for a split second, all the time needed for him to press a kiss to your lips, your forehead, and lastly the area beneath your earlobe before his pulling away and placing the ice on the swelling pain on your side.
The frown usually creasing his forehead is relieved and gone, and in place of it is an untroubled expression of relief and calmness.
There's an unwavering flicker of his tenderness and affection for you in the way his eyes trail across your naked body, his careful touch contrasting the aching of your joints and the pulsing of your pussy.
When the ice meets the fiery burn, you can't help the relieved sigh that escapes. And it arises a smudge of guilt in Katsuki that you're quick to assure, your hands placed on his shoulder and dragged up to his neck. "Lay with me"
He's tempted to refuse but how can he when it's what you both want. He glances at his hand that keeps the pack in place, "It's fine Kats, lay on your side next to me"
When it's just the two of you, Katsuki lets his guard down and is often quiet. He rarely speaks but somewhere between the lines he fills the silence. Everything that leaves your lips reaches his ears and pierces his thick skull and during those times, he reminded you of a puppy in a sense of loyalty, affection, and obedience. Katsuki is settled in the confinement of your home and thus he feels it a safe space to let the lovesick side of him show further and naturally, he allows it to take dominance.
His expression had never been softer. His touch had never been more careful. And the way he settles himself on top of you so mindful of your pain, he doesn't lay beside you and remains above you just more to the left away from where his lust took over and left its mark, regretfully stopping him from receiving end. Katsuki buries his head into the crook of your neck and latches his lips onto it like a starved man, tongue licking and flicking back and forth, teeth nipping, the wet sloppy noise of his actions echoing in your ears and drawing fast and heavy breathes from your chest again.
The night was far from over, but for now, he'd let you take a few minutes─ an hour to rest while he busied himself with dressing you in his marks. There were so many other things he could do for the time to pass and you didn't stop him as it began.
Pants draw from your chest as you comb your fingers through his dishevelled hair and linger them down his spine. This pulls a satisfied moan from Katsuki who embraces the gesture; the feeling of your nails scratching up and down his back as your chest rises and presses firmly against his chest before it falls and repeats. His hand adjusts the ice but he doesn't pull away, so content with the moment despite the little accident and not reaching his end. But he's certain if you keep this up, he'll cum in no time, and then he supposes he can give you maybe another hour to rest.
☣ copyright @archonsabyss all rights reserved // do not copy; steal; plagiarize; reword or repost my works to any other platform! No translations!! All credits to original owners of characters/anime/pictures that are not my own!
Celine Dion’s ‘My Heart Will Go On’ classic is immortalized as you’ve never seen it before on a t-shirt with the classic hard rock combo of skulls, fire and satanic symbolism. AVAILABLE HERE
Part 1: Welcome to Hawkins
Part 2: The Convergence
Part 3: Foundations
Part 4: Deja Vu
Part 5: Routine
Part 6: Kinship
Part 7: Hope
Part 8: Shattered
Part 9: Stupid Teenagers
Part 10: Pity Party
Part 11: What Really Matters
If you like what I write, feel free to buy me a coffee ❤️
| Series Summary — Steve Harrington is in love with you but is convinced you're out of his league and refuses to acknowledge his feelings. But when Dustin Henderson returns from summer camp with a secret Russian code, your lives change completely. |
| Warnings — Use of female pronouns, graphic depictions of violence, d3ath, bodily harm, bl00d, forced dr*g use. All warnings come from what occurs during Season 3 and the Russian base. [Y/N] endures experiences that can be found triggering. If you would like an in-depth warning list, you can message me! Please inform me if I missed anything. |
| Author's Note — This is the first chapter of a series. It contains all of Season 3, which is why it's incredibly long. The series will eventually contain smut. It is a reader insert written in the third person, therefore there will be no physical descriptions such as weight, eye/hair/skin color. And it's for those who want to be the main character and It-Girl so enjoy. |
[Y/N] moved through the effervescent crowd brimming the Starcourt Mall, the smell of deep-fried corndogs and the overwhelming fragrance of perfume samples filling the thick air. She stepped inside the parlor, pushing aside the blushing and giggling teenagers, disregarding their harsh glares and low whispers. She stopped at the counter, her ocean-blue uniform tightly squeezed in her closed hand as she breathed heavily. Steve whirled around, prepared to recite his required greeting when his jaded eyes widened and landed on the glittering gaze of [Y/N]. She was early for the beginning of her shift, earlier than she’s ever been, and he furrowed his eyebrows together as she expelled a heavy sigh and hesitantly peered over her shoulder. He stealthily glimpsed at the damp skin of her heaving chest, the edge of her cream-colored bra peeking from her tight blouse. “I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend for five minutes,” The desperate plea fell from her glossed lips, the flushed pink of skin as she leaned over the polished counter distracted him. “I’ll explain later.” She moved around the counter’s edge, urgently grabbing his arms and loosening them as she forcefully wrapped them around herself. His hand brushed against the smooth skin of her lower back, his fingers touching the fabric of her skirt, and her breasts were pressed against his clothed chest but he could feel the warmth radiating from her.
A teenage boy accompanied by a group of his friends stepped inside the parlor and his youthful expression fell as he witnessed [Y/N] in the warm, and extremely stiff, embrace of her supposed boyfriend. She smiled as she stood on her toes, pressing a delicate kiss to his blushing cheek as she softly moved a loose strand of his dark hair. The gesture was soft, unfamiliarly intimate as her polished nails moved behind his ear. He blinked owlishly, his softened eyes resembling warm honey as he thought of the sweetness of her gaze. This was nothing but an unexpected and temporary facade, he forcefully reminded himself; completely and unfortunately fake. The teenage boy glared poisonously before storming outside of the parlor. “He’s gone,” Steve’s voice was hoarse as the words fell from him, swallowing a lump in his throat as she backed away, the sweetness of her perfume fading. “Not that I mind, but what was that?”
[Y/N] walked inside the back room, slamming the swinging door and sliding the moving windows close. From the blurred and textured glass, he could see her remove her small blouse, the clasp of her cream bra barely visible through the glassy haze. She always claimed she wouldn’t wear the dreadful uniform outside of the parlor, so she brought the uniform tucked inside her purse and changed in the back room. Robin didn’t mind and Steve definitely didn’t mind, but the only issue was refraining from sneaking a glimpse. “He wouldn’t leave me alone. I tried telling him I was meeting my boyfriend, but he kept following me. That’s where you come in.”
The young woman was blessed with the appearance of someone plastered on movie screens, painfully attractive and she always was the center of scrutiny whenever she stepped outside of her house. Everyone stared at her and it was a constant and unwavering occurrence. The issue with looking like her was the occasional creep who was convinced their persistence was going to give them a small chance of receiving her attention. But she didn’t have a boyfriend, which Robin couldn’t understand or entirely believe, but she used the boyfriend excuse constantly and normally the fabrication worked, but there was always the uncommon deviation.
[Y/N] slid the window open, the warm lighting of the parlor illuminating the sleekness of her hair as she gave him a heart-stopping grin. He leaned against the back counter attached to the sliding window and she peered upward at him through the thick rim of her lashes. She wiped the faint lipgloss stain from his cheek with her thumb. “Sorry, it had to be believable.” The apology was barely heard as his knuckles blanched from squeezing the counter. His mouth opened and closed as she closed the window, disappearing from sight. Steve smelled the fading softness of her perfume and closed his eyes with defeat. She appeared from the back, grabbed the clear trash bag from the overflowing trash can, and disappeared from the parlor without another word. Throwing away the trash was an idle task she did whenever she didn’t want to help any customers.
There was a small thud as Robin placed the whiteboard on the back counter. “Another one bites the dust,” She said, writing a tally on the ‘You Suck’ section of the whiteboard. “You are oh-for-six, Popeye.”
Steve sighed heavily as he whirled around on his sneaker’s heel, crossing his arms with an exasperated glare. “Yeah, yeah, I can count.” He said, unamused by her antics. Each tally unfortunately represented another failed attempt or missed opportunity of scoring his dream girl—you. It was embarrassing having every failure on display, having to explain a poorly formulated lie as [Y/N] asked what the tallies meant, and having Robin make teasing remarks every time Steve froze and couldn’t string a sentence together whenever there was a shift in the energy between them.
Robin glanced at the black tally mark. “You know that means you suck.”
Steve nodded languidly. “Yup. I can read, too.”
She raised her thin eyebrows. “Since when?”
He expelled a slow breath. “It never used to be like this.” He thought of his experiences during high school and there was an ache as he reminisced. He was always the guy taking girls’ breaths away, leaving them on their bedsheets feeling like their hearts were going to tear through their dresses. It used to be easy, a simple adrenaline rush, but now all [Y/N] had to do was breathe beside him and he was putty in her unaware hands.
Robin didn’t understand his cluttered thoughts. “You know, it’s a crazy idea, but have you considered just telling her the truth?”
Steve scoffed at the sarcastic suggestion. “And risk our friendship?” He had thought about the possibility of revealing the depth of his feelings, he thought about it often, but the overwhelming dread consumed him and he was overcome with the likelihood of their friendship shattering. He didn’t mean for the words to be adorned with the intensity of his emotions, but when Robin’s lighthearted expression faded, he knew he had revealed just how much he cared. There was a moment of silence, or as silent, as an occupied shopping mall could be, and he stared at the streaks on the glass panels. “Or worse, she would tease me about it forever. That would so go to her head.” He joked, attempting to ease the saturation of the conversation, and although Robin chuckled, she knew that there was a thumping heart inside him that wasn’t calloused from high school.
Robin knew when Steve was focused on conversing with a group of girls, displaying a swoon-worthy smile as he scooped through the variety of flavors. He was moments from earning a tally mark on the ‘You Rule’ and those girls were blushing with rosy cheeks, absorbing his smooth words, but she walked inside the parlor. [Y/N], blissfully unaware of the warmth glowing from Steve’s softened gaze, stepped inside with a verdant green, fur-lined blouse and a noticeably tight and small black skirt, her smooth legs barely visible through the black pantyhose and knee-high boots. Her hair was lazily thrown up, strands framing her grinning face.
The words falling from Steve’s mouth disappeared into nothingness as she walked toward the counter with a smile that could have stone-cold men collapse to their knees. His eyes followed her, watching as the sunlight poured inside the parlor from the ceiling window and made her glow with golden warmth. His hand loosened and the scooper fell on top of the vanilla ice cream, disregarding the peeved questions from the girls. Robin knew when Steve easily overlooked a group of girls drowning him within their giggling attention as soon as [Y/N] arrived. Robin had never seen him look at anyone like that and he didn’t even seem to care that the group rolled their eyes and departed without another glance. He spoke with pretty girls every day, but not a single one had him ready to throw everything away for a single glance from her.
When [Y/N] returned, the lingering conversation dissipated and they continued with their tasks. She organized the clear containers of sprinkles and cookie crumbs, meticulously labeling them with a permanent marker. She tossed a cookie crumb inside her mouth, doodling a dainty heart beside the pink sprinkle’s label. Steve languidly swept the back room’s marble floor with a rickety broom. There was a comfortable silence between them as they listened to the faint music that played throughout the mall’s speakers. As she scribbled another drawing, a familiar voice spoke from the register. “I’m Dustin,” He said and [Y/N] froze, a crooked line appearing across the clear container as she listened. Steve’s lazy movements paused suddenly, accidentally spreading the pile of dirt he managed. “Pleasure to meet you. Are they here?” The question broke them from their unsure trance and they disposed of the marker and broom, rushing to the door.
Steve’s sneakers squeaked as she roughly pushed him aside, choosing to ignore his groan as he slammed into the door frame. He hastily grabbed her shoulder, smushing her face as he moved through the swinging door. His hands were raised in the air, unfiltered elation written on his pale face. “Henderson,” He exclaimed and Dustin laughed, pointing at him with a childlike eagerness. “Henderson! [Y/N], he’s back!”
His arm moved toward the bright logo. “You got the job!”
Steve was moving with unseen energy. “I got the job!” He yelled with wide eyes, imitating him playing the trumpet before throwing himself into the personalized handshake they made. They made childish lightsaber sounds, pretending Steve’s intestines fell from his stomach as he was supposedly impaled.
Robin watched the strange scene unravel from the other side of the register. “How many children are you friends with?” She asked, an amused smirk rising on her dark pink-stained lips.
[Y/N] pushed the swinging door open and purposely shoved her shoulder into Steve’s arm as she rushed forward, wrapping her arms around the younger boy. Dustin was the aggravating sibling she didn’t have, a pesky bundle of unchecked energy she grew fond of. Encircled beneath her embrace, he blushed and his smile widened as he immediately hugged her back. Pulling away, she rushed behind the counter. “Tell me everything!” She listened as he recounted his mind-expanding experience during his summer camp retreat, the prototypes of his inventions, and the budding relationship with a girl named Suzie. She occasionally chimed in as she scooped unusually large scoops in the largest bowl they offered, throwing every topping she knew he would like, and intricately placed three soft waffle cones pieces through toothpicks and tossed a handful of bright red cherries.
She placed the makeshift ice cream boat across from Dustin on the rounded table where the cushioned booth was. “She’s brilliant, too. And she doesn’t even care that my real pearls are still coming in. She says kissing is better without teeth.” He shoved a spoonful inside his mouth, the corners of his mouth stained with different colors. Steve nodded slowly with a slightly disgusted expression, processing the revelation, and she feigned a bright smile.
“That’s really…romantic!” She replied after an unsure pause. A group of customers entered the parlor, and the children’s overexcited voices bounced off the walls. From behind the counter, Robin wordlessly pleaded for some form of assistance. “I’m gonna help out Robin and I’ll be back.” Dustin smiled thankfully as she scooted from the booth and slid the ice cream moving panel open.
He motioned to the large plastic bowl of ice cream. “So do you really just get to eat as much of this as you want?”
Steve, resting his forearm on the outer edge of the red booth, nodded. “Yeah, it’s not really a good idea for me, though.” He began, chancing an awkward glance where [Y/N] moved across the room. “I gotta keep in shape for the…ladies.” He explained with a feeble pause. There were no ladies and hasn’t been in quite some time and they both knew this. It wasn’t as if he didn’t try, because he did, but each failed attempt with earning a night out with a pretty girl that walked inside Scoops Ahoy sent his dwindling confidence further a downward spiral. His apprehensive eyes moved toward the smudged glass panel that protected the products from contamination, watching as she scooped a large ball, much larger than the designated size, and smiled as she spoke with a mother and her children. It never made sense to him how easily she charmed every customer like it was second nature, with complete and total ease.
Robin threw an empty cup away near the booth. “Yeah, and how’s that working out for you?”
Steve rolled his eyes at the remark. “Ignore her.”
“She seems cool.”
“She’s not.”
[Y/N] removed her sailor’s cap and shoved Steve aside, casually perched beside him as her exposed thigh beneath the uniform rubbed against his knee. There was nothing remotely romantic, or even sexual, about the careless touch, but it was more than enough to have him distracted by the closeness between them. Dustin sneakily watched as Steve glimpsed at her smooth skin caressing him, swallowing the mouthful of words. “So where’s the rest of the team?” She asked, finally noticing the lack of obnoxious teenagers.
Dustin’s eyes closed with a weary sigh, thrusting the spoon inside a sliced banana piece. A flicker of sorrow flashed across his face. “They ditched me yesterday,” He spat, scooping the ravaged banana slice and shoving it inside his mouth. “My first day back. Can you believe that shit?” Although she could completely believe that, she didn’t express the thought. They were all relishing the summer warmth alongside their boyfriends and girlfriends, holding each other’s sweaty hands and stealing quick kisses in the darkness of the movie theaters. “I swear to God. They’re gonna regret it, though, big time when they don’t get to share in my glory.”
She plucked a cookie chunk from his banana boat. “Glory?” She questioned, crumbs falling against the corners of her mouth.
There was a glint in the lightness of his eyes as he scooted closer. “So, last night we’re trying to get into contact with Suzie and…” The words faded as he nervously glanced around the parlor and brought his hand to the side of his mouth, mumbling a cluttered sentence of unintelligible words.
Steve furrowed his thick eyebrows together, leaning closer. “What?”
Dustin clicked his tongue against his teeth, glancing around the parlor once again before inhaling deeply. He not-so discreetly covered his mouth again, barely whispering. Her brows drew together as her eyes narrowed. “I have no idea what you’re saying right now,” [Y/N] said.
“I intercepted a secret Russian communication!”
Her head lowered. “Oh, why didn’t you just say that, then?” She paused, processing the declaration. “I still don’t know what that means.”
Dustin sighed impatiently, unzipping his overflowing backpack. He shuffled through the contents, placing a weathered book on the tabletop. “I just need your help translating.”
[Y/N] grabbed the tattered book, casually flipping through the yellowed pages. The distinct smell of aged paper flooded the air. She stood from the leather booth, her white sneakers squeaking against the polished floor, and she motioned for them to follow behind her. They moved through the counter and stepped inside the back room, disregarding the confused glance from Robin as Dustin trailed after Steve. He dumped his backpack onto the tabletop designated for employee breaks and retrieved his silver recorder, pressing the button on the side before a robotic male voice began reciting a message. The man repeated the message without a waver in his monotone voice. [Y/N] scribbled possible words on a yellow notepad as audio played, again and again, listening to the foreign words as she flipped through the translation book.
There were a handful of pages discussing the Russian alphabet and they screwed the cap off an erasable marker, transcribing the foreign symbols onto the freshly cleaned whiteboard. Dustin pressed the pause button. “So what do you guys think?”
Steve, with a thoughtful expression, peeled a banana and took a large bite as he rummaged through his thoughts. “It sounded familiar,” He eventually said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “The music right there at the end.”
Dustin’s mouth snapped shut as he watched Steve casually munch on a banana, his patience dwindling. “Why are you listening to the music, Steve?” He asked, his voice rising as he jutted an index finger at the recorder. “Listen to the Russian! We’re translating Russian!”
Steve’s cheeks extended as he spoke, his mouth full and muffled. “I’m trying to listen to the Russian, but there’s music—”
The swinging door flew open as Robin appeared, her freckled cheeks flushed with glaring frustration. “All right, babysitting time is over. One of you needs to get in there.” She aimed a scooper at them accusingly before her eyes narrowed when she saw the information of restocking on the whiteboard was erased and replaced. “Hey, my board! That was important data, guys!”
Dustin shrugged nonchalantly, unbothered by the sudden outburst. “I guarantee you what we’re doing is way more important than your data.”
She quirked an unimpressed eyebrow, cocking her head to the side. “Yeah? And how do you know these Russians are up to no good anyway?”
The younger boy’s eyes widened, peering upward at Steve who stiffened beside him. “How does she know about the Russians?” Steve merely shrugged his voice a garbled mess from the fruit. “You told her about—”
“Why do you automatically assume it was me?” Steve questioned, pointing an accusatory finger at [Y/N]. “Maybe it was [Y/N]!”
Her glossed lips fell slack. “Of course, you’d find a way to blame me—”
“Hello, I can hear you.” Robin interrupted, her arms crossed. “Actually, I can hear everything you say. You three are extremely loud. You think you have evil Russians plotting against our country, on tape, and you’re trying to translate, but you haven’t figured out a single word because you didn’t realize Russians use an entirely different alphabet. Sound about right?”
[Y/N] glanced at the pink ink seeping through the notepad, some of her translations circled and crossed. “Not completely right,” She muttered, circling a single word with the glitter pen. “I’m pretty sure this says yellow!” As enthusiastic as she was for the only translation she managed to complete, she wasn’t completely certain that it was correct.
Robin’s harsh glare softened as the corners of her lips curved. “It’s a good thing you’re pretty,” She said, but there was no mistaking the lightheartedness behind her words. [Y/N] grinned, knowing it wasn’t entirely a compliment, but she never complained when someone mentioned her appearance. Robin hastily reached forward, barely missing the recorder before Steve snatched the device away. “I wanna hear it. Maybe I can help. I’m fluent in four languages, you know?”
“Russian?” Dustin asked, hopeful.
“Ou-yay are-yay umb-day.” The three of them proclaimed, impressed with the foreign sentence. She rolled her eyes. “That was Pig Latin, but I can speak Spanish, French, and Italian, and I’ve been in band class for twelve years. My ears are little geniuses, trust me.” She pulled a chair beside [Y/N] as the silver bell beside the register rang through the silence. “Come on, it’s your turn to sling ice cream, my turn to translate. I don’t even want credit, I’m just bored.” Steve reluctantly took the scooper from her grasp and gave her the recorder.
The emptiness of the Starcourt Mall was unsettlingly quiet. Most, if not all, of the other shops, were cleaned and closed for the night, but there were four people remaining inside an ice cream parlor. The bright lights were still on, the only source of life inside, and almost every counter was wiped and the floor was swept. “The week is long, the silver cat feeds when blue meets yellow in the west.” The four of them read the unusual sentence aloud, but there wasn’t even a flicker of understanding in the depths of their minds. “See, I told you yellow was in there!” Dustin gave an unimpressed side-eye before grabbing his duffle bag and stuffing his torn book inside.
The four of them were exhausted, their thoughts echoing with the Russian recording, and their supposed translation didn’t make sense. “It just can’t be right,” Steve said, pulling the metal gate over the entrance of the parlor and securing the lock.
“Honestly, I think it’s great news,” Dustin said, walking ahead.
Steve, with an unnecessary force, dropped the lock. “How is this great news?” He chuckled humorlessly. “So much for being American heroes. It’s total nonsense.” He knew he was behaving slightly dramatically, but the promise of becoming something more was enough for him to throw his entire self into the task. And maybe, just maybe, [Y/N] could have seen him as something more.
They moved through the desolateness of the mall, occasionally glancing at the locked stores. “It’s not nonsense. It’s too specific. It’s obviously code.”
Steve thought about the suggestion for a moment. “What do you mean code?” He asked.
[Y/N] intently examined a bright pair of heels displayed on the other side of a glass window. “Like a super secret spy code in the movies?”
Steve rolled his eyes as he lightly bumped his shoulder with hers, unconvinced with the possibility. “That’s a total stretch.”
Robin half-shrugged, humming. “I don’t know.” She began, “Listen, just for kicks, let’s entertain the possibility that it is a secret Russian transmission. What’d you think they were gonna say? ‘Fire the warhead at noon’?”
“Exactly, that would defeat the purpose of being a secret,” [Y/N] said, “So maybe it is some kind of weird code and they’re specifically using weird words to hide their true message. Only people who have something to hide would use code to mask their message.”
Dustin high-fived her. “Exactly! You’re on a roll today, [Y/N].”
“So I guess that confirms your suspicions,” Robin said, clutching the strap of her helmet.
Dustin gave her a knowing look. “Evil Russians.”
Robin smiled, gobsmacked that everything they were saying was making sense. “I can’t believe I’m about to agree with this strange child, but, yeah, totally evil Russians.” She giggled.
The four of them slowly walked through the mechanical animals. “So how do we crack it?”
“I guess we translate the rest and hopefully a pattern emerges.”
Dustin’s expression grew serious. “Maybe ‘silver cat’ is a meeting place.”
“Or a person.”
“Or a deadly weapon.” [Y/N] paused, throwing a mischievous glance behind her shoulder, but Steve wasn’t there. Her smile dwindled. “Wait, where’s Steve?” She turned, furrowing her brow as she found him. He was standing beside the mechanical horse, digging inside his uniform’s pockets. He pulled a small handful of coins, some clattering to the floor as he searched for a quarter on his palm. “What are you doing?”
Steve moved the coins around, shaking his head softly. “I need a quarter. Do any of you have a quarter?”
[Y/N]’s eyes crinkled with a light smile as she jogged toward him. “I want a turn!”
He ignored her, motioning for the rest of them to quicken their slow place. “Quarter!” Robin chuckled but threw him a coin regardless. He placed the coin inside the metal slot and the plastic horse began moving, a child-like tune playing. He shushed the three of them as they laughed at Robin’s muttered joke. “Will you guys shut up and listen?”
There was a moment of silence as Dustin’s wide smile fell, realization dawning upon his face. “Holy shit. The music,” He shrugged off his bag and unzipped it, hurriedly pulling out the recorder. “It’s the same exact song on the recording.” The Russian man’s voice played from the recording and the music was the same.
Somewhat unconvinced, Robin shook her head. “Maybe they have horses like this in Russia?”
Steve, crouched by the mechanical horse, pointed at the coin slot. “Indiana Flyer? I don’t think so,” He said, “This code didn’t come from Russia. It came from here.”
Steve appeared from behind a bush of large green leaves, a pair of black binoculars pressed against his concentrated eyes as he surveyed the crowded mall, with Dustin beside him. He wasn’t certain how inconspicuous they were being, especially with how noticeable his bright uniform was. “Do you see anything?” The younger boy questioned, peeking from the crevices of the leaves.
Steve moved his gaze across the food court, watching as people chewed their grease-filled food, then where a group of middle school girls gossiped at the water fountain. “I guess I don’t totally know what I’m looking for.” As soon as the midafternoon began to slow at Scoops, the three of them began investigating the bustling crowds roaming the inside of the mall. But, something that the younger boy seemed to forget, neither of them knew what exactly they were searching for.
Dustin peered over his shoulder. “Evil Russians. Tall, blond, not smiling.” He answered simply as if the answer was glaringly obvious. “Also look for earpieces, camo, duffle bags, that sort of thing.”
He hummed a distracted response before his eyes widened. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Steve declared, blinking repeatedly as if the twisted sight before him was an unfortunate mirage. “Anna Jacobi’s talking to that meathead Mark Lewinsky. Jesus Christ, whatever happened to standards? Lewinsky never even came off the bench.” He said, watching with disgust as Mark pretended to throw a basketball, smiling with pride as Anna giggled.
Dustin narrowed his eyes. “Dude, you are the worst spy in history.” He yanked the binoculars from his grasp and shook his head disapprovingly. “Besides, I don’t get why you’re looking at girls. You have the perfect one right in front of you.” He said, pressing the binoculars against his face as he motioned across the food court.
Steve sighed exasperatedly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Seriously, if you say [Y/N] again—”
“[Y/N]. [Y/N]. [Y/N]. [Y/N].”
“Stop, no. No!”
“[Y/N]. [Y/N]. [Y/N].”
“No.”
“[Y/N].”
“No.”
Steve chanced a softened glimpse where [Y/N] was casually perched between a cushioned booth, drinking a milkshake through a thick straw as she cautiously glanced around the area. This, although it was simple and didn’t require any exertion, must’ve been agony for her. She always said she would never wear the sailor’s uniform outside of the ice cream parlor, but she made the ‘sacrifice’ for them, as she said. So there she was, sipping her milkshake with a displeased expression as she searched for anything that wasn’t supposed to be there. But, as she soon realized, there were many strange people inside Hawkins and she wasn’t given specifics on characteristics to be searching for. And Steve, who was watching her with rose-colored glasses, didn’t bother disguising his blatant staring. He also watched with distaste as several guys purposely roamed the area, speaking in hushed whispers as they watched her from a distance. “Dude, no. I’m not her type. I’m nowhere in the ballpark of what her type is.” He dismissed the idea, but Dustin could hear the gloom laced in his words.
Although the words weren’t explicitly expressed, Dustin knew that was as close to a verbal confession he was going to receive. Steve, though his friend, wasn’t acknowledging his feelings for her and Dustin wasn’t completely certain as to why. “So, what you’re saying is you’re not her type, but she’s your type?” The question was a simple and straightforward one, and easily could have been answered, but Steve hesitated.
That’s exactly what Steve was saying and that was the underlying reason he wouldn’t acknowledge his feelings. Because acknowledging he knew he wasn’t what [Y/N] wanted would only confirm he wasn’t good enough for her and he wasn’t sure he endure that feeling again. “Look, I missed my chance back in high school,” Steve eventually said, deciding that answer was more than enough for the time being. “She could have any guy she wants. She’s got a line waiting for her. Literally, there are, like, seven guys waiting to make a move on her as we speak. I lost what I had back in school. She’ll never go for me.”
Dustin removed the binoculars and gave him a pointed look. “Now that you’re out of high school, which means you’re technically an adult, don’t you think it’s time to move on from primitive constructs such as popularity?” He didn’t understand where the obsession with popularity and social acceptance came from, but he knew where it was supposed to end and it was supposed to have ended when he crossed the stage with his diploma.
The bitterness from Steve’s expression dissipated as the question fell from his mouth. “Oh, primitive constructs?” He mocked, “That some stupid shit you learned at Camp…Nothing?”
Dustin, entirely aware he was deflecting, rolled his eyes. “Camp Know Where, actually.” He corrected, “And no, it’s shit I learned from life. Instead of thinking you’re never gonna have a chance with her because you’re not the cool guy in high school anymore, why don’t you just forget about high school popularity and leagues, and be with somebody you actually like? Like me and Suzie?”
Steve despised knowing every word he spoke was undeniably true, he despised knowing the words of wisdom were coming from a thirteen-year-old middle schooler whose girlfriend probably didn’t even exist. He feigned an agreeing nod. “Oh, yeah! ‘Hotter than Phoebe Cates’ Suzie? And let’s think about how exactly did you score that beautiful girlfriend? Oh, yeah, with my advice. Because that’s how this works, Henderson. I give the advice, you follow through. Not the other way around, all right, pea-brain?”
Dustin rolled his eyes, disregarding the name-calling, and continued looking around the mall, his gaze moving across each and every face. It wasn’t long until he found someone matching his description. “Target acquired.” He said, watching the tall man with long blond hair push through the crowd with a dark blue duffle bag and sunglasses. “Ten o’clock. Sam Goody’s.”
Steve grabbed the binoculars, brown eyes widening as he saw the man walk with a stoic expression. “Shit,” He didn’t know any Russians, but that man was the exact image Dustin had listed earlier. He stood, whistling a specific sound and [Y/N] froze, looking up from her milkshake and meeting Steve’s flailing arms. She sipped a large gulp from the straw before throwing it away, rushing to the boy’s sides. “Let’s go!”
He grabbed her hand, an unnecessary gesture, and pulled her through the conversing crowd and up the escalator, nearly tripping on her stained sneakers. She mumbled a string of apologies as some people yelped as they were pushed. “Slow down,” Dustin demanded, struggling to keep up with Steve’s speed. “You’re getting too close.” His shoulder bumped into a man, mumbling an apology as the guy yelled at him but the man they were following stopped, hesitantly peering over his shoulder at the ruckus. The three of them moved from his line of sight. Dustin grabbed the payphone, feigning a monotone conversation, and [Y/N] and Steve moved behind a large potted plant. She lowered her head, the fabric of his uniform caressing her cheek as he watched behind the leaves for the man to turn around. She could feel the buckle of his belt pressed against her stomach and the sudden warmth of him seeped through his clothes. Her unsure eyes moved upward, watching as his jaw clenched. Steve, noticing the softness of her lips inches away from him, glimpsed down at her, suddenly aware of how close she was to him. His mouth became dry as she stared at him with those gleaming eyes. “Steve, not now!”
They blinked before continuing with their mission. They trailed him to a Jazzercise store and watched from behind a pillar as he dumped his duffle bag on a counter, unzipping his bag to reveal a stereo. “All right everyone, listen up!” He shouted, “I just have one question for you. Who is ready to sweat? That’s right!” The group of brightly dressed women cheered excitedly as he unzipped his jacket, revealing his muscular arms. “Let’s start it nice and easy. Let’s move our thighs. Yeah, ladies, warm it up! Come on, ladies, show me what you got!” The music began playing and Steve’s mouth fell slack as the women wearing tight spandex moved their hips slowly.
[Y/N] rolled her eyes, smacking his shoulder. “Let’s go.” The walk back to Scoops was filled with bickering between Steve and Dustin. As they stepped inside, the smell of sweetness and floor cleaner filling their noses, Robin sprinted outside, jumping on the edge of the fountain. She circled in one spot, mumbling to herself. [Y/N] raised her brow. “Robin, what are you doing?”
She smiled. “I cracked the code.”
“Are you serious? I just did my hair.” [Y/N] could faintly hear the sound of her displeased voice through the pouring rain and crackling thunder. She zipped her waterproof jacket and threw on the hood, pulling the two strings as far as she could manage. The gravel crunched beneath their sodden shoes as they slowly moved across the mall rooftop. Their wary eyes checked the surrounding area for any late-night employees. “So we’re looking for Imperial Panda and Kaufman Shoes?” She asked, elbows perched on the edge of the roof.
Dustin uselessly wiped the glass lens of the binoculars with his drenched sleeve. The air was unusually cold and each breeze chilled her skin, goosebumps rising. “They’re with that whistling guy, ten o’clock.” He said, subtly pointing at the man wearing a yellow raincoat, pushing a red cart with large boxes. The Imperial Panda logo was printed on the sides.
Steve rubbed his palms together, his attempts at warming them were futile. “What do you think’s in there?”
“Guns, bombs?”
“Chemical weapons?” Robin suggested as a crack of thunder and lightning tore through the sky.
[Y/N] ’s bottom lip quivered as another breeze crashed against her. “Whatever it is, they’re armed to the teeth,” Dustin said, eyeing the large weapons clutched in their hands.
Steve wiped the heavy droplets from his face. “Great,” He mumbled, “That’s just great.” The thunder rumbled within the darkness of the clouds and [Y/N] instinctively shifted closer to him, her shaking hand squeezing his crouched knee. Her quivering touch, although ice-cold, ignited a flash of warmth through him. There was something comforting knowing she searched for some form of release within him.
An armed guard unlocked the large double doors. “What’s in there?” Robin asked, unable to decipher much of anything through the downpour.
“It’s just more boxes,” Dustin answered.
Steve reached over and attempted to snatch the binoculars from him. “Let me check it out.”
“No, I’m still looking.” The binoculars were tugged between them, both of the boys muttering profanities. They both lost their grip on it and it slammed onto the metal tube they leaned against. An echoing slam reverberated through the truck’s delivery area. “Duck!”
The four of them tossed themselves onto the gravel of the rooftop with the backs of their head pressed against the brick of the roof’s edge. [Y/N] smashed her soaking cheek against Steve’s raincoat, interlacing her hand with his. They breathed heavily, their frightened eyes wide as the thunder rumbled. From the double doors, a guard screamed something in Russian. She blinked away the raindrops and glanced at their quivering hands. “We need to get out of here.” She said over the rainfall. They all nodded in agreement, rushing to the rooftop entrance.
Their footsteps echoed throughout the descending staircase, the bottom of their sneakers squeaking from the water as they pushed open the employee’s entrance open. The warmth of the corridor enveloped them like a heated blanket. “Well, I think we found your Russians, Dustin.”
[Y/N] scrutinized the polish on the table as she listened to Dustin speak. “The keycard opens the door, but unfortunately the Russian with this keycard also has a massive gun,” He explained the information he uncovered when he returned to the rooftop the following morning. She had scolded him as a mother would, even providing the dreadfully disappointed expression, when they were fueled by anger. “Whatever’s in this room, whatever’s in those boxes, they really don’t want anybody finding it.”
Robin fiddled with her ice cream scooper as Steve spun his sailor’s cap with his index finger. “But there’s got to be a way in.” She said, mostly to herself, as she considered the possible options. There couldn’t be one entrance and if there was, that would’ve been a severe fire hazard.
Steve casually tossed his cap onto the table. “Well, you know, I could just take him out.” He nonchalantly suggested. And that was an egotistical portion of Steve speaking—a portion of him that was also stupid.
[Y/N] stopped messing with the silver chain of her necklace. “Take who out?” She knew she shouldn’t have asked the question because, although removing the guard from the equation would’ve been a good idea if one of them were bulletproof, she knew he was being sincere.
“The Russian guard. Haven’t you been listening?”
She squeezed her eyes closed, an incredulous smile curving her lips. “Yeah, I’ve been listening. Just trying to process this amount of stupidity.”
“Oh, come on. I sneak up behind him, I knock him out, and I take his keycard. It’s easy.” And it was because of the delusion he made, entirely convinced he was some Terminator that could overpower a trained Russian guard, that she couldn’t help but laugh at him.
“Stevie, I think you’re forgetting the part where he has a massive gun and you’re not bulletproof.”
His expression deadpanned. “No, [Y/N], I remembered that part. That’s why I would be sneaking.” He slowly moved his two fingers as if they were a person creeping around the corner.
Dustin narrowed his eyes, his forearms crossed over each other. “Well, please, tell me this, and be honest, have you ever actually won a fight?” There was a silence for a moment as the three of them thought of when they had pressed an ice pack against the flushed bruises blossoming on his face and throwing away bloodstained tissues.
“Okay, that was one time—”
[Y/N]’s eyebrows rose at the understatement. “Twice with Jonathan.” She interrupted.
He rubbed his forehead. “That doesn’t count.”
Her face was screwed with confusion. “That definitely counts because, and I’m sorry to break it to you, he kicked your ass. Like, definitely beat the shit out of you.” Steve attempted to protest, but she continued. “You had a busted lip and your eye was swollen and there was a gross amount of blood—”
Robin’s eyes gleamed as she constructed an idea as the three of them bickered. She stood from her chair, the metal scraping against the floor, and grabbed her belongings. She pushed the back room door open and shoved her hand inside the clear tip jar. “What are you doing?” [Y/N] asked, watching as she jogged outside the parlor with a handful of cash.
Robin paused. “I need cash!”
Steve’s expression drooped as he saw the cash in her palm. “Well, half of that’s mine!” He nearly whined. “Where are you going?”
She placed her helmet on, clicking the strap on. “To find a way into that room. A safe way.” She shouted from across the room. “And in the meantime, sling ice cream, behave, and don’t get beat up. It’s her day off, she’s not allowed to help you, dingus!”
“It is fascinating what twenty bucks will get you at the County Recorder’s Office. Starcourt Mall. The complete blueprints.” Robin said as she unrolled the blueprints, flattening the blue and white paper on the table. “So, this is us, Scoops, and this is where we want to get.” She said, dragging her finger across the table.
Steve examined the detailed outline, shaking his head. “I don’t see a way in.” He said.
“There’s not if you’re exclusively talking about doors.” She removed the top layer of the blueprint, revealing the mall’s ventilation.
“Air ducts,” [Y/N] mumbled to herself.
Robin smiled brightly at her. “Exactly,” She said, grabbing a red marker from her whiteboard. “Turns out, this secret room needs air just like any old room. And these air ducts lead all the way here.” She traced a specific duct with the bright red ink, circling their final destination.
Steve grabbed the metal latter, firmly pressing it beneath the air vent near the ceiling. He accepted the screwdriver from [Y/N] and hurriedly unscrewed the screws securing the metal sheet. “Flashlight,” He said, extending his hand outward as he placed the ventilation sheet aside. He pressed the button and the air duct was illuminated with yellow light. “I don’t know, man. I don’t think you can fit in here. It’s like super tight.”
Dustin seemed unphased. “I’ll fit. Trust me,” He said as Steve descended the latter. “No collarbones, remember?”
Robin scrunched her face with confusion. “Um, excuse me?”
Steve hopped off the latter. “Oh, he’s got some disease. Uh, Chry-Chrydo…something. Yeah, I dunno. He’s missing bones and stuff. He can bend like Gumbo.”
Robin gave him a dirty look. “You mean Gumby?”
“I’m pretty sure it’s Gumbo.”
Dustin shouted from the vent, his voice echoing. “Steve, shut up and push me!” Steve rolled his eyes and stepped on the bottom step of the latter, pushing the bottom of his feet. “Not my feet, dumbass. Push my ass.”
“What—”
“Touch my butt! I don’t care!” Steve groaned with disgust as he climbed higher, apprehensively placing his palms on Dustin’s butt. “Come on! Harder! Push harder! You’re playing with my legs.”
Steve tossed his legs over his shoulder. “I’m not playing, I have terrible footing.” Dustin screeched with frustration as there was hardly any movement. “I’m just gonna shove you, okay? One, two…” And he shoved him, but there was only a creak in the vent.
Robin and [Y/N] watched the spectacle with disappointed expressions. From the register, the bell dinged repeatedly. “Ahoy, sailors! All hands on deck.” Erica pushed the small button on the bell over and over, motioning for someone to come around the counter. “Get over here and serve me some samples.”
[Y/N] and Robin shared a knowing look before dragging the little girl to the back. She protested, exclaiming she was going to tell someone to fire them, but once she saw Dustin descending the latter, she was intrigued. He handed her the flashlight and she stepped on the latter, climbing until she reached the top. The beam of light filled the vent as she briefly examined it before climbing back down. “Yeah, I don’t know.”
“You don’t know if you can fit?” [Y/N] asked.
Erica’s face screwed with annoyance. “Oh, I can fit. I just don’t know if I want to.”
“Are you claustrophobic?” Robin asked, unamused.
She snickered. “I don’t have phobias.”
“Okay, what’s the problem?”
She slammed her palms on the table. “The problem is I still haven’t heard what’s in this for Erica!”
Erica was easily convinced if she were given free ice cream for the remainder of her life, which they readily agreed because they were only going to have this job for the remainder of the summer, and memorized the outline of the ventilation blueprints until the Starcourt Mall closed. The four of them rushed to the rooftop, leaving Erica in the Scoops Ahoy back room. The radio static popped from the walkie-talkie as Robin pressed the button. “Erica, do you copy?”
The young girl hummed in response. “I copy,” She responded, “You nerds in position or what?”
The four of them leaned against the rooftop’s edge, intently watching the loading dock and delivery area. “Yeah, we’re in position. It’s all quiet here, so you’ve got the green light.” Robin said softly. The loading dock where the group of armed guards was the other night was ominously empty.
“Green light, roger that.” Erica said, “Commence Operation Child Endangerment.”
Robin rolled her eyes. “Can we maybe not call it that?”
“See you on the other side, nerds.” [Y/N] sighed as the bottom of her sneakers scraped against the gravel of the rooftop. The fabric of her black bellbottom jeans was stained with dust as she scooted beside Steve. The minutes progressed and there still wasn’t a response from the young girl. The child endangerment possibility was becoming glaringly conceivable and the anxiety was coursing through. “All right, nerds. I’m there.”
Robin’s tense expression eased. “Do you see anything?”
There was a pause. “Yeah, I see those boring boxes you’re so excited about.”
“Any guards?”
“Negative.”
“Any booby traps?”
There was another pause, almost deadpanned. “If I could see them, they’d be pretty shit traps, wouldn’t they?”
Robin, knowing Erica was right, only slightly smiled. “Thank you for that.”
There was a loud bang, a grunt escaping her lips as she kicked the ventilation sheet from the wall. “I’m in.” Steve ran both of his hands through his hair as he breathed out a nervous breath. There was an alarm signaling the double doors were moving and Erica appeared from the room with a satisfied smirk. She placed a hand on her hip. “Free ice cream for life.”
They rushed to the delivery area and glanced around, ensuring there weren’t any wandering guards in the shadows, before closing the double doors behind them. Steve pulled out a pocket knife, flipping the blade out and slicing the tan-colored tape on the boxes. He yanked back the box flaps and opened it, revealing a strange metallic box with a handle with a small engraving that showed to twist it clockwise. Steve expelled a breath before twisting the handle, a low hiss escaping with a light fog flowing in the air. There, inside, were four smaller handles. “That’s definitely not Chinese food.” He glanced at the five of them. “Maybe you guys should stand back.” Robin rolled her eyes but moved away regardless of the theatrics with Erica beside her. Dustin remained put. “Dude, just step back.”
“No.”
“Step back.”
“No.”
“Seriously, step back.”
Dustin smacked his hand away. “No!” He shouted assertively. “If you die, I die.” The spectacle was theatrical, somewhat endearing as the younger teenager glared with an acute finality, but also unnecessary.
[Y/N] pushed Steve’s hand aside. “So dramatic,” She mumbled, interlocking her hand around one of the handles and pulling it out, another hiss emitting. When the item was fully out of the box, it was a thick glass vial with a neon green liquid inside, almost moving within. “What the fuck is this?”
There was a menacing rumble as the hinges and screws creaked as the small room shook. The five of them paused, glimpsing around the room as if there were something going to emerge. “Was that just me, or did the room move?” Dustin questioned, nervous shifting his weight on his feet. There was a thunderous mechanical whirring as the room rumbled again.
Robin’s expression was plastered with unease. “You know what, let’s just grab that and go.” She demanded, snatching the green vial from [Y/N]’s loosening grasp, and moved toward the double doors. Dustin flipped open the control panel, pressing the glowing blue button that said ‘Open Door’. He pressed the button again when there wasn’t an immediate response. The doors didn’t open.
The room filled with an obnoxious clicking sound as he repeatedly smashed the glowing button. “Which one do I press, Erica?”
She glared at him as if the answer was obvious, which it was. “Just press the button, nerd.”
He pressed the button once again. “Which one,” He blinked, wondering if he was seeing things incorrectly. “I’m pressing the button, okay? I’m pressing ‘Open Door’.”
Steve, exasperated with the lack of any progress, shoved him aside. “Press the other button!” He demanded, pressing his thumb against the same button as earlier.
[Y/N] appeared by them, pressing the glowing green one. “Maybe it’s this one?”
He gave her a look of disbelief. “That says ‘Close Door’, why would it be that one?”
She tore her harsh gaze from the control panel and glared at him. “I don’t know, Steve, maybe the Russians got confused with the translations!” She moved to press the wrong button again, but he gently smacked her hand away from the panel. “Would you just let me do it?”
“No, you clearly don’t know what you’re doing—” Steve slammed his palm on the smallest button in the middle of the panel and the double doors were barricaded by a scarlet-red barrier. The fluorescent lights flickered before a mechanical whirring trembled the room. There was a stomach-churning drop. This was an unfamiliar speed, something from a rollercoaster, and there weren’t any restraints. “We’re going down! We’re doing down!” Steve screamed, covering [Y/N]’s cowering figure.
She crouched beneath his shrouding arms, her hair flowing upward. “Really, Steve, what gave you that idea?!” Her back was pressed against the metal shelves as Steve enwrapped his arms around her as much as he could. Her hands crumpled his uniform as she gripped the fabric tightly.
Dustin slammed the random buttons. “Why don’t these buttons work?” He screamed, his voice frightened and high-pitch.
Erica rushed forward. “Push the button!”
“What do you think I’m doing?!”
The room jolted with a shattering finality and the five of them collapsed onto the floor with a pained scream. [Y/N] shrieked as she landed on top of Steve, her knee accidentally shoving into his crotch. He groaned, his pale skin reddening as her forehead bumped into his. “My groin,” He strained out, “You fell on my groin. I need you to get off me, please.” If the situation were different, and they weren’t locked inside a Russian base’s elevator, Steve would savor the weight of [Y/N]’s body on top of him, her hair brushing against his face, and have her lips inches away from him. But, the dull pain of his groin being squished clouded his thoughts.
She glanced down where her knee was pressed against and scrambled off of him. “Oh, I’m so sorry!” He released a strained groan as she stood, carefully pulling him from the floor. “Are you okay?”
Steve grimaced as he straightened, concentrated ire on his face. “Yeah, I’m great, now that I know Russians can’t design elevators!” He charged ahead and quite literally tossed Dustin aside, slamming the control panel open with a bang.
“I think we’ve clearly established those buttons don’t work,” Robin said, her chest heaving as she wiped the dampness on her forehead with the back of her hand.
Steve threw his arms into the air. “They’re buttons. They have to do something!”
“Yeah, if we had a keycard!” Robin interjected, “It’s an electronic lock. Same as the loading dock door. If we don’t have a keycard, it won’t operate.”
[Y/N] examined the thick wall concealing the double doors warily. “Meaning we’re stuck in here.”
Erica stepped forward. “Just so you nerds are aware, I’m supposed to be spending the night at Tina’s, and Tina always covers for me. But if I’m not home for Uncle Jack’s party tomorrow and my mom finds out you four are responsible, she’s gonna hunt you down, one by one, and slit your throat.”
Steve, unconcerned by the blatant threat and whining of the small girl, slammed his palms onto the discarded cardboard boxes. “I don’t care about Tina or Uncle Jack’s party! Your mom’s not gonna be able to find us if we’re dead in a Russian elevator!” He shouted with a glower.
Erica recoiled from the severity of Steve’s tone and Dustin jutted an index finger at the evacuation hatch on the ceiling. “What if we climbed out?”
Steve chanced a small glance where [Y/N] spoke with Robin across the elevator, the exhaustion swirling inside her droopy gaze as they analyzed the control panel. He couldn’t decipher exactly what they were whispering in hushed tones, but there was a glimmer of hope they were talking about him. He caught Robin leaning close to [Y/N]’s ear, stealing a noticeable glimpse toward him when she thought he wasn’t looking. He couldn’t see [Y/N]’s reaction to whatever was said.
He stood from the floor, wiping his palms on the fabric of his uniform, before climbing the shelves beside the evacuation hatch. As he neared the opening, he could hear Dustin speaking into the walkie-talkie and repeating the same sentence he had been saying for an hour. “Gotta take it easy on that thing. You’re going to drain the battery.”
Dustin whirled around, facing Steve’s ascending figure. “The mall just opened. Someone can be in range.”
His face scrunched with annoyance. “What do you think? Petey the Mall Cop is gonna rappel down here and save the day?” The metal of the elevator creaked as Steve swung his leg over the opening and stood on his feet.
The younger boy scowled at the harsh sarcasm dripping from his voice. “Why are you such in a bad mood after getting to spend the night with [Y/N] ?”
Steve’s eyes widened as his voice traveled between the walls. He brought his index finger to his mouth and shushed him loudly. “Jesus Christ, will you stop trying to play matchmaker? It’s never happening.”
“I heard you guys talking all night,” Dustin said much quieter, unphased by the theatrics.
“Dude, you were listening in on our conversation? We were just trying to figure a way out of here.” He corrected, slowly maneuvering his way over the elevator’s wires. Which wasn’t a complete lie, just not the entire truth. “After eight hours, we’re still exactly nowhere, which is probably just a little bit of the reason I’m feeling just a tad cranky.” He hopped, undoing his belt and unzipping his shorts.
Dustin’s eyes widened with horror. “What are you doing?” He asked, his voice echoing.
Steve peered over his shoulder, eyebrows pressed together. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m taking a leak. Look away!”
[Y/N] and Robin spoke in hushed whispers as they tried analyzing the control panel. [Y/N] spun around, handing her Steve’s switchblade that fell from his pocket. Across the elevator, a stream of liquid poured down the wall. She narrowed her eyes with confusion, then disgust. “Move your dick over there, your pee is gonna leak onto the floor!” The trickle of urine moved in away in a jagged line. A clanking sound filled the room and [Y/N]’s eyes widened as Erica was attempting to crack open the green vial. “Are you trying to kill us? We don’t even know what that is!”
Robin snatched the tube from her hand. “Exactly. It could be useful.” Erica protested. “We can survive down here a long time without food, but if the human body doesn’t get water, it will die.”
“Thank you, Erica, but I took third-grade science, and drinking this will probably kill us faster. It’s obviously not water.”
As the two girls bickered about the science of water consumption, Robin noticed a distant electrical humming approaching. She pressed her ear against the metal wall, her eyes widened as she heard the faint sound of voices. “We’ve got company,” She whispered, the three of them rushing to the hatch. Upon noticing their concerned expressions and quickened pace, Steve pulled them up, hurriedly closing the hatch before the elevator’s door opened. Two men entered, sniffing the air as they spoke in Russian. One of them blew a puff of smoke from his cigarette as they grabbed and moved some of the Imperial Panda boxes. As they returned back onto their small car and drove away, Steve yanked the green vial from Erica’s grasp and jumped down the hatch, throwing himself onto the floor and placing the green vial between the floor and closing the elevator door.
“Hurry up, let’s go!” He tossed Erica’s backpack under the small crevice, pushing her by the bottom of her shoes, doing the same with Dustin and Robin. But as [Y/N] scooted beneath the elevator door, elbows rubbing against the floor until they burned, the green vial began to crack. Steve gave her one more shove and she rolled over onto her stomach. Pushing herself onto her knees, she pulled Steve’s arms and successfully got him out before the vial shattered with a hiss. A green ooze splashed as the glass splintered into pieces, burning the floor with smoke. Whatever was inside the vial was extremely acidic and seeping through concrete.
“Holy mother of God,” Dustin mumbled beneath his breath and they turned to face his direction, expressions frowning as the only path was a long corridor and they couldn’t see the end. The corridor was illuminated in blue fluorescent light, making it much more ominous.
Their skins were damp with sweat as they trudged forward, the blue light enveloping them as they moved forward inside the long stretched hallway. They all spoke about a variety of different topics as they walked through the corridor that didn’t seem to end. But it wasn’t until they began speaking about why Hawkins was chosen for some secret lab, that Steve, Dustin, and [Y/N] realized this might have been connected with the Upside Down.
Hours must’ve passed after they fastened their pace, somehow approaching the end where the corridor split into two different directions. Steve stepped forward, moving around the corner of the wall before someone drove past in a small vehicle. He quickly disappeared from view and pushed them behind a small storage unit, hiding from sight. They waited until the vehicle’s engine disappeared into nothingness before Steve peeked around the unit, motioning for them to follow him. “Okay, clear.” He whispered, “Come on, let’s go.”
“That was close.” Robin breathed out.
“Too close,” Dustin whispered.
Steve, although distressed from the close encounter, eased their concerns. “Relax, nobody saw us…” His voice trailed off as they turned around a corner, their breaths hitching as their adrenaline spiked. There, merely a few feet away, was what appeared to be the center of the underground lab, suffused with armed guards and scientists with pristine lab coats. The voices echoed through the large space, everyone wearing some form of uniform as they moved with casualness. When a guard on the upper section glanced their way, his hands wrapped around a large gun, they threw themselves behind a red cart.
[Y/N] crouched behind the cart, her face inches from Steve’s as they slowed their panicked breathing. “I saw it. First floor, northwest.” Erica whispered, “The comms room.”
[Y/N] slightly peeked around the handle of the cart. “Are you sure?” She asked, trying to find something that resembled what she was picturing as the comms room. She couldn’t see much through the roaming scientists and guards.
Erica nodded. “Positive. The door was open for a second and I saw a bunch of lights and machines and shit in there.”
“That could be a hundred different things,” Dustin whispered, incredulous.
Robin swallowed nervously. “I’ll take those odds.”
They peered around the corner and once they all knew where the location was, they moved back. “We’re gonna move fast, we’re gonna stay low,” Steve whispered and they all nodded in understanding. Crouching, they nearly crawled behind a large metal crate, waiting as the Russian voices walked across the room, then behind a bulky machine. A scientist unlocked the door and ignorantly walked away, his eyes focused on his file. Steve waved the five of them over. “Let’s go.” He shoved his hand between the door and successfully prevented it from closing. He silently closed the door as soon as they were all in behind him.
A guard swiveled around and his eyes widened as he saw them inside the room, tearing off his thick headphones. He stood on his feet, confused eyes moving between the five of them. His hand hastily encircled around his holster. Robin instinctively rushed forward, her palm extended outward, shouting something in Russian. [Y/N] recognized the Russian words from the message they decoded. The man froze, responding and appearing even more confused. Robin tried again, the desperation evident on her flushed face but the guard wasn’t convinced by the nonsense she was spewing. He unbuttoned his holster, yanking his gun out.
Steve moved before he could even process what his body was doing. He shouted an animalistic sound, sprinting forward at full speed and wrapping his arms around the guard, slamming him into the counter where he was working. The guard pulled him off his waist and tossed Steve onto the table beside them, throwing a heavy punch Steve barely dodged. The man latched onto fingers onto Steve’s uniform, throwing him onto another table. Steve shot his elbow out into his rib, grabbing a metallic phone before smoothly moving it to his hand and colliding it against the guard’s temple. The man groaned as he fell back and smashed his head onto the table behind him, blood staining his skin as he collapsed onto the floor.
Steve breathed heavily as he ran his fingers through his hair. “Dude! You did it,” Dustin yelled with a wide grin. “You won a fight!” The exhilaration was flowing through him as his body ached and his chest burned with every breath. He didn’t even process Dustin’s exclamation until he tore his exhausted gaze from the unconscious guard. He expelled a heavy sigh as he took in the wide-eyed sight of [Y/N] . And as she rushed toward him with a small, yet amazed, smile, he knew it was worth it.
Dustin stole the keycard from the guard’s belt and [Y/N] inspected Steve with worried eyes. Her shaking hands checked his face, pushing his hair away as she analyzed him as Erica and Dustin argued. “Are you okay?” She asked, still unconvinced there was some injury.
Steve grabbed her wrists gently. “Yeah, I’m okay. I promise.” He couldn’t contain the small smile at her concern.
Robin nearly tripped down the stairs from across the room. “Guys, there’s something up there!” They ascended the staircase and a bright, flickering blue glow seeped through the square window on the door. Steve opened the door and they slowly entered after him.
The sight was something pulled from a sci-fi movie; a huge glowing machine that hummed loudly as it spun, scientists wearing lab coats and radioactive gear walking around the machine as they inserted the green vials into the crackling machine, and it oozed with electricity as a bright beam shot at the concrete wall, a portal tearing through. “It’s the gate,” [Y/N] mumbled, closing her eyes as terrifying reality hit her; the Russians were opening The Gate. “We need to get out of here.”
There wasn’t any objection from any of them as they opened the door and descended the staircase. “I don’t understand. You’ve seen this before?”
“Not exactly, just know this isn’t good.” [Y/N] could feel the familiar fear coursing through her as she nearly tripped on the last step. “We need to do something. A lot of people are going to die if we don’t!” She shouted, her quivering hand squeezing Steve’s shoulder.
“And you know about this how?”
Erica glimpsed at the area where the guard lay unconscious and all there was left was a blood stain. “Uh, Steve? Where’s your Russian friend?”
As soon as the words were said, an alarm blared and a flashing red light filled the room. Steve cursed, sprinting to the door and opening it. Across the room, a group of armed guards huddled around the stumbling and bleeding man. They screamed as they noticed Steve from the doorway. He slammed the door closed. “Go! Go! Go!” They sped up the staircase and stormed the portal room, ignoring the questioning glares they earned from the scientists.
The guards shouted at them as they chucked the scientists aside and followed the five as they ran along the machine’s walkway. They could feel the heat of electricity crackling and they could barely hear anything over the blue beam shooting into the wall. “HOLY SHIT!” Dustin screamed as he nearly stumbled off the pathway before [Y/N] yanked him back by his collar.
Steve circled around, spotting another path down a small staircase. “THIS WAY!” They thoughtlessly followed him as he shoved a guard over the railing. A pair of guards appeared from an entrance and [Y/N] screamed, slamming her body into a pile of metal barrels at them. The barrel collapsed onto them and they were squished on the floor. Steve pulled her to her feet and they continued sprinting until they poured into an empty room. Steve planted his sneakers on the floor, struggling to keep the guards from opening the door.
Dustin and Erica lifted a loose panel on the floor, revealing a small escape route. [Y/N] pressed her back into the door, her boots squeaking as the force of the pounding guards was slowly pushing her. “Guys, let’s go!” Dustin shouted, helping Erica and Robin into the secret passage.
“No! Get out of here!”
“Steve, come on!”
Steve exchanged a worried look with [Y/N], who was moments from being thrown from the door, and she frowned, nodding. “Just go get some help!” Dustin hesitated but jumped inside the passage and yanked it closed. As soon as they disappeared from view, the guards gave one final shove and the two of them were thrown onto the floor. They barreled in, aiming a variety of weapons at them. [Y/N] attempted to shove her face into Steve’s arms, knowing it was futile and it wasn’t going to help them, but a guard grabbed her hair, dragging her away from him. She screamed, scratching at his hands but his grasp only tightened. Steve lurched forward, but a guard’s boot kicked his jaw.
Specks of blackness clouded her blurred vision. The pain was unbearable as they jabbed [Y/N]’s stomach until the air was seized from her lungs, punched her face until saliva and blood trickled down her chin and stained her clothes, and slapped her until there was a red handprint bruised on her cheek. She knew she should have answered their questions, she should have explained this was an entire misunderstanding, but something told her she wasn’t going to leave regardless. They interrogated her until the questions were seared into her brain and she flinched as soon as the man inched closer. Tears streamed down her bruised cheeks, mixing with the dripping blood. She sobbed, each erratic breath felt like she was breathing in burning flames. She didn’t know how much time had passed when she grabbed her arms, pulled her from the chair, and dragged her down a hallway. To scream and plead seemed useless as they all continued with their idle tasks as she wept.
They opened a door, carelessly releasing her limp body onto the floor with a harsh thud. She struggled to breathe as her face collided with the floor and her restrained hands were raw from how much she uselessly tugged on them. Beside her laid Steve, bloodied and unconscious. She groaned as she pushed herself off the floor, crouching close to his face she tried nudging him. “Steve? Steve, come on, wake up.” Her voice was hoarse as she spoke, the desperation for him was seeping through her. She had never experienced this intensity of fear as she attempted to nudge his limp body again. He wouldn’t respond, his eyes were swollen and unreactive. She was hoping he would rustle awake, and mutter something about her breath smelling horrible, but he didn’t move. She couldn’t even check his pulse.
A loud buzzer was heard as the military-grade door opened, revealing an older soldier. The way he entered the room and the medallions were sewn into his uniform told her he was dripping with power. She glared at his approaching figure with undiluted hatred. “What did you do to him?” The words burned her throat as she screamed at him and he was momentarily surprised she finally spoke. But he eyed her as if she were nothing but a speck of dust, an inconvenience. She groaned as he backhanded her, ordering the two guards behind him and besides the doorway.
Two small chairs were swiveled to the middle of the room and the guards clumsily placed them both on the seats, back to back, and fastened a secure restraint around them. [Y/N] tried to wiggle free, but she could barely move her own limbs. The older soldier gripped Steve’s damp hair, pulling his bloodied face upward. “Don’t you fucking touch him!” She sneered with venom. The crimson blood stained her teeth as she bared them. He tsk’d and shook his head disapprovingly, releasing Steve’s hair. He pulled a white handkerchief from his pocket, wiping the blood and sweat from his hand. “Steve, Stevie, can you hear me?”
“I think your boyfriend needs a doctor. Good thing we have the very best” The soldier said, circling around to face her. He rested his palms on his knees, leaning inches away from her face until she could smell the tobacco from his breath. “I’m so glad you choose to speak now.” [Y/N], although barely functioning from the pain, spit on his face. She watched with hazy satisfaction as the bloody saliva trickled down his face and stopped his cruel laughter. He wiped away the mess from his face with the white cloth, his wrinkly eyes flaring with fury. “You’re going to regret that, little bitch.” A wide and twisted smile rose on his thin lips as he straightened and exited the room without another word, locking the door behind him.
Her breathing was slow and deliberate as she looked around the desolate room, faintly wheezing with each exhale. The warm blood cascaded down her bruised skin. There was a silver tray across the room beside the examination bed and a moveable lamp. As she glanced around, evaluating the large locks on the door, she was overwhelmed by the hopelessness coursing through her. She couldn’t move with numbing restraints and each movement ignited a blistering ache. Her eyes glistened as she smelled the copper stench from behind her as Steve’s loose mouth leaked. She squeezed her eyes closed, the tears streaming down her face. She remained like that for what felt like hours but must’ve been minutes, and leaned as close as she could to him.
There was a faint shuffle behind her. “You okay, princess?” Steve mumbled.
Her eyes flew open at the unexpected sound of his low voice and gasped with relief. “Steve, Oh, my God,” Her soaking tears fluttered as she tried peering over her shoulder to see him. The agony was still rampant, unwavering, but something eased within her knowing he was okay. “Are you okay?”
His breathing hitched as he listened to the hoarseness of her voice. “My ears are ringing, and I can’t really breathe, my eye feels it’s about to pop out of my skull, but you know, apart from that, I’m doing pretty good.” He knew there was something seriously wrong if she was sobbing behind him, quivering as if the room were filled with ice, and the potent stench of blood filled the air.
She chuckled, choking back a threatening cry. “Don’t worry, we’ll be fine.” She said, but she wasn’t sure if she was trying to convince him or herself. “They’re calling us a doctor.” She informed sarcastically, almost laughing despite the severity of the situation.
Steve swallowed, glimpsing around through the blur. “Is this his place of work?” He asked, chuckling at his own joke. “I love the vibe. Charming.”
She laughed, which sounded more like a huff of air, and realized how much she needed to hear him. The unknowing of his well-being, wondering even for a split second if he was even alive, was the worst terror she had ever experienced. But they weren’t going to survive here, so they needed to escape. “What I’m about to suggest is going to hurt, but we’ve gotta work together. There’s a table to your right and there’s a pair of scissors, if we move at the same time, we could maybe get over there and knocked them onto your lap or something.”
“And I could cut the binds.”
She struggled to smile at the vitality in his voice. “Exactly. See, you’re not just a pretty face.”
“Those morons left scissors in here?”
“Definitely morons.” She wheezed a small laugh, and she coughed a thick blood clot, not bothering to care about the blood dripping down her face. “Okay, on the count of three, we’re gonna hop.”
Although she couldn’t see him, she could feel him nod to himself. “Okay, good, hop on three. I gotcha.”
“One, two, three.” They used their remaining strength to hop and inch to the side. “Okay, that worked! Let’s do it again. One, two, three. Holy shit, it’s working! Again.”
They hopped, but the weight was unbalanced and they landed wrong. The chairs slipped and they collapsed onto their sides. [Y/N] groaned as her temple smacked the concrete. Steve breathed out a wavering sigh and she choked on the threatening sobs. He froze, struggling to peer over his shoulder. “It’s okay, princess.” His soft voice reassured her. “Don’t cry.”
A small puddle of blood pooled beneath her cheek. “It’s not okay, I’m practically choking on my own blood here, we don’t even know if the kids and Robin got out, and we’re going to die in this fucking secret Russian underground base.”
His eyes closed as he listened to the bleakness behind her words. “We’re not gonna die,” He said, but he wasn’t certain he believed his own words. “We’re gonna get out of here, okay? I promise I’m going to get you out of here.” This wasn’t supposed to happen. They were supposed to be American Heroes, plastered on the newspapers for saving the country, but [Y/N] was broken and bleeding. The only woman he’d ever known to literally radiate sunshine was shattering beside him.
A soul-shattering weep tore through her, the putrid smell of her own blood seeping into the air. She tried to slow her breathing, focusing on her thoughts and memories instead of the blinding pain. “Do you remember our first conversation back in sophomore year?” She apprehensively asked. He muttered something beneath his breath. The question was random, but he knew she was asking to tether herself to reality. “You were at basketball practice, I was at cheerleading practice, and you guys kept throwing the balls in our section of the court. I think you guys were trying to get our attention, but you only pissed us off. I yelled at you, calling you every name I could think of and all you did was smirk and tell me to go back to shaking my pom-poms. You were such an asshole around your friends.”
Steve closed his eyes, listening to the story. “I know.” He said softly.
“But it didn’t even matter because you showed up at my locker the next day and apologized. You, Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington, waited all morning by my locker so you could say sorry.” The slice on her lower lip stung as she smiled, remembering the spectacle of Steve Harrington casually against her locker with all the confidence in the world. “I told you to go fuck yourself and you still cheered me on during my cheer solo at the game. I don’t know how we became friends, but I think it was because you liked that you didn’t have to be so uptight with me. You got rid of your ‘King Steve’ facade and you were just my Stevie. You weren’t concerned with all that popularity shit and you were just you.”
Steve didn’t speak immediately, only remembering the words Dustin had told him earlier. He was enthralled with his appearance, his clique, and basketball that he didn’t even consider anything that made him genuinely happy. “It just baffles that everything that people tell you is important, everything that people say you should care about, it’s all just bullshit. But I guess you gotta mess up to figure things out, right? ” He chuckled humorlessly. “I wish I wasn’t such an asshole to you back in high school because maybe, just maybe, we could’ve become friends sooner and things would’ve been different for both of us. I needed you to shake me and yell in my face, ‘Steve, none of this shit matters. Get your life together and maybe instead of being here, I’d be on my way to college right now.”
He could hear the curve of her lips as she spoke. “And I’d be in fashion school and wouldn’t be scooping ice cream with some asshole.”
Steve laughed, ignoring the sharp pain. “Gotta say, though, I liked being your Stevie. It was fun while it lasted.”
Her smile wavered. Your Stevie. She hadn’t even considered how much she liked hearing him say that. “It was.”
The buzzer rang through the room and the door unlocked, revealing the older soldier. He examined them laying against the floor and chuckled at the sight. “Where were you two going?” He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. The two goons easily picked them up from the floor, returning them back to their original position. He leaned closer to Steve’s bruised face. “Try telling the truth this time, yes? It will make your visit with Dr. Zharkov less painful.” He nodded for the doctor to commence with whatever their plans were. He stepped aside, moving closer to where [Y/N] was seated, and cocked his head menacingly. “You can sit and watch this time. You are too sick.”
She didn’t even have time to process what he’d meant by ‘too sick’. A man wearing white medical attire raised a gun-like machine, displaying a large needle with a vial of blue liquid. Steve screamed as the man punctured his neck, the vial injecting into his bloodstream with a hiss. “Honestly, I don’t feel anything.” He blinked away the dwelling tears away. “I feel kinda good. Morons messed up the drug” He revealed, erupting in a fit of giggles.
His cheeks began to throb from how much he was laughing. A wave of nausea overcame her as she struggled to keep her eyes open. “Something’s wrong,” She muttered, licking the dried blood from her lips. The buzzer sound came and the door unlocked, revealing the same crew. The doctor slammed a black bag onto his table, removing the contents one by one.
The soldier glared at Steve, his hands behind his back. “Let’s try this again,” He said, “Who do you work for?”
“Scoops,” Steve struggled to keep the laughter inside. “Scoops Ahoy.”
“How did you find us?”
Steve chuckled. “Totally by accident.” The soldier spat something Russian and Dr. Zharkov retrieved a tool from his array and attached the end to Steve’s fingernail. “Wait, whoa, wait, wait!”
“It was a code!” [Y/N] shouted, “We heard a code! ‘The week is long. The silver cat feeds when blue meets yellow in the west. You can’t be surprised someone overheard that stupid shit because you broadcast it all over town and we cracked your dumb spy code in a fucking day! How does that make your ego feel knowing a couple of stupid kids who scoop ice cream cracked your code and now, people know you’re here!”
His face flushed with rage. “Who knows we are here, little bitch?”
She sneered, sweat beading around her forehead. “Guess you’ll find out, you cunt—” Dr. Zharkov embedded a small makeshift knife into her thigh. She screamed like a wailing banshee as the blade tore through her skin and her eyes were blinded with darkness as the suffering was unlike anything she’d ever felt. The blood trickled down her skin, and the fabric of her clothes was damp with her own blood.
“Who knows we are here?!”
Steve glanced over his shoulder with wide and paranoid eyes. “Dustin knows,” Before she could strain through the black specks overcoming her and scream for him to keep his mouth shut, he continued. “Dustin Henderson knows”
“Dustin Henderson,” The soldier said, his accent thick. “It is your small, curly-haired friend?”
“Oh, curly-haired. Great hair. Small. Kind of like a ‘fro.” Steve knew all of this was wrong, but he couldn’t stop talking. The words were barely forming inside his jumbled head before they escaped him like vomit.
“Where is he?”
“He’s long gone, you big asshole. And he’s probably calling Hopper, and Hopper’s calling the US Cavalry. They’re gonna come in here, commando-style, guns a-blazing, and kick your sorry asses back to Russia. You’re gonna be two pieces of toast.” An emergency alarm began blaring throughout the base, a flashing red light catching their attention. The soldier straightened at the blinking lights and his expression hardened before he disappeared out the door.
Moments passed when the door was slammed open and Dustin sprinted inside, shoving an electric stick into the chest of Dr. Zharkov. He convulsed before collapsing onto the floor. “Henderson!” Steve exclaimed, “That’s crazy, I was just talking about you. Look, you gotta help [Y/N].”
Robin appeared from the doorway, her eyes widening with fear as she took in the twisted sight of [Y/N] soaked with blood, bruised, and basically broken. She collapsed onto the floor, hastily undoing her restraints. Erica stepped inside the interrogation room and the constantly annoyed facade dropped as she saw Robin’s shaking hands covered with dark scarlet. As soon as the restraints around her hands were removed, [Y/N] brought a weak hand toward the blade protruding from her thigh. She weakly wrapped her hand around the handle, squeezing her eyes tightly until the tears streamed down her face. Before she could begin thinking of the pain, she yanked the blade out and screamed until her throat ached. “We’re gonna have to run, okay?” She could barely hear Robin speak over the constant thumping in her head. She latched her loose arm around her shoulders, guiding her through the maze of corridors. The walls were blending together, a dark and hazy mush as she limped.
Dustin struggled to keep Steve upright as they rushed through the flashing red light. Robin gripped onto [Y/N] tightly, her hands slipping from her grasp occasionally as the blood made it slippery. She whispered reassuring nothings as they moved through the corridors, telling her they were only a couple of feet away and to keep her eyes open. She stopped moving as they neared the small vehicle they had stolen, carefully opening the back door and placing [Y/N] inside. Dustin, however, tossed Steve into the back of a red vehicle and didn’t waste any time driving as quickly as they could.
[Y/N] brought her clenched fist to her mouth to refrain from screaming out as they jolted against the metal barrier on the back of the vehicle. “Jesus, slow down!” Steve slurred.
“Dustin, watch out!” Erica shouted as he crashed the vehicle into a pile of barrels.
[Y/N]’s head clashed against the metal barrier and she groaned as she leaned into Steve’s chest. The three of them hopped off the vehicle and unlocked the door. “Come on, let’s go!” Dustin shouted, confused as to why Steve wasn’t in any rush to leave. He yanked on Steve’s ankle, dragging him out and Robin carefully pulled [Y/N] from the back, nearly slipping on her blood. “Here goes nothing,” Dustin muttered to himself as he shoved the keycard into the slot for the elevator. The light turned green and the elevator door opened. The five of them hurried inside and the room immediately began jolting upward.
Steve stood on a metal platform with wheels on the bottom, struggling to balance and remain upright. “Dustin, I’m surfing!” The three of them ignored Steve’s antics as Robin pressed onto her thigh, apologizing as she applied pressure. Erica pulled a sweater out from her My Little Pony backpack and Robin swiftly cut the fabric with Steve’s pocketknife. She wrapped the fabric around her thigh, pulling tightly and making a tourniquet.
“This is ridiculous! You’re still so pretty even all bloodied and bruised. That shouldn’t be possible.” Steve spoke, confused as to what was even happening. Everything was moving quickly and he couldn’t think properly.
[Y/N] struggled to move closer to the elevator wall, a wave of nausea moving through her. “You got a thing for blood and tears, Harrington?” She questioned through clenched teeth, avoiding looking at the bloodied wound.
He giggled. “If it’s on you, then yeah.”
Erica watched him behave erratically. “He seems drunk.” She commented.
Robin wiped the blood from her hands as much as she could manage. “Why would he be drunk?” She asked absentmindedly, her attention centralized on the redness stained on her skin. He misplaced his footing on the moving platform and he slipped off, collapsing onto the floor with a thud. Robin kneeled beside him, placing her hand on his forehead. “He’s burning up.”
Steve didn’t even seem to be understanding the severity of the situation. “How am I burning up? She’s the hot one!” His limp hand pointed at where [Y/N] leaned against the wall, breathing shakily. Her skin was blanched, damp with sweat as she struggled to keep her eyes open. But she chuckled lightly at the delirious remark.
Dustin leaned beside him, ignoring his complaints as he pried his hands away and forcefully pulled his eyelid upward. “His pupils are super dilated.” He said. Steve booped the tip of his nose as Dustin slightly slapped his cheek. “Come on, knock it off.”
[Y/N] gripped Robin’s hand, her weak grasp wavered as she released a shaky breath. “He was drugged.” She mumbled, her mouth suddenly felt dry. “They injected him with something.”
“How many times, dad? I don’t do drugs. It’s only marijuana.” Steve slurred, struggling to blink normally.
Robin swiped the beads of sweat on [Y/N]’s pale forehead. “I think she’s internally bleeding.” She commented and the harshness of their reality intensified as she realized her friend was slowly dying on the floor of a Russian elevator.
Steve smiled widely. “That’s good! That’s where the blood’s supposed to be.”
The amount of crippling stress flowing through Dustin wasn’t something a thirteen-year-old boy was supposed to experience. One of his best friends, someone he even considered an annoying older brother, was drugged and could possibly overdose. Another one of his best friends, someone he thought of as an older sister who would do anything for him, was bleeding out on the floor and there wasn’t anything he could do. He shook his head. “They’re going to be looking for us up there, so we need to know where you parked your car.” He asked Steve.
Steve booped his nose again. “Can we make a pit stop at the food court?”
“Yeah, sure, whatever. You can have as much food as you want, but only if you tell me where you parked your car.”
Steve’s face fell. “The Russians took my car keys,” He said, emptying out his pockets to reveal nothing inside them.
“Shit.”
There was only one rule Steve was given: watch the premiere of the movie and don’t go anywhere. Dustin and Erica were supposed to be babysitting him, perched only a row away from him, while Robin tried to clean [Y/N] as much as she could inside the restroom. But when Robin apprehensively left her alone to call for Dustin’s assistance, Steve inevitably became bored with a movie he didn’t understand. He stole a small glance where the three of them spoke in hushed whispers and when he saw they were distracted, he snuck out of the movie theatre. It wasn’t until long before the blinding lights and nausea overpowered him and he could feel the chunks of popcorn threatening to come out. He sprinted inside the bathroom, completely overlooked [Y/N]’s near-unconscious body, and vomited inside the toilet.
As he flushed the chunks of throw-up, he flopped onto the floor and rested his head against the bathroom stall. “Did you puke it all up?” [Y/N] questioned, propped against the tiles of the bathroom wall. She watched as he wiped the vomit away from his mouth with a piece of toilet paper.
When his sober gaze landed on her, a wave of blinding rage and concern crashed through him. He had seen her condition when they were in the back of the vehicle, zooming through the base’s corridors and bumping their skulls because of Dustin’s driving, but he was barely registering everything. “I don’t know,” He mumbled, his eyes moving across her. She was pale, her eyes sunken eyes were bloodshot and smudged, her face bloodied and bruised. There was a large handprint across her face, her bottom lip split, and there was so much blood staining her skin.
She swallowed the lump lodged within her throat. “That bad, huh?” She whispered, briefly closing her eyes. She had never seen him stare at her with such emotion before.
“You’ve never looked better.” It was such a blatant lie, horrifically untrue, but she was so thankful for the moment of normality.
She clutched her side pathetically. “I don’t think you threw up all of that drug.” She said, the corners of her bloodstained lips rose.
He pushed himself from the tiles of the bathroom floor and scooted across the small distance, sitting beside her. She placed her temple on his shoulder, leaning against him as she encircled her arm around his. “Test it out yourself. Ask me anything.” He didn’t know where Robin or Dustin was, probably trying to devise a plan where they could escape alive, but he knew he was all she had at that moment.
He was expecting a lighthearted question, something to distract her from this unfortunate reality while they waited, but as she glanced upward at him, peering at him with her doe-eyes and exhaustion, she asked him something he didn’t think he would have to answer: ‘Have you ever been in love?’
Steve thought about the question. The answer was simple: Of course, he had and everyone knew of his heartbreak when she chose another guy over him. So he sighed and interlaced his hand with her bloodstained one. “Yeah, Nancy Wheeler. First semester, senior year.” Thinking of the memories with her, it felt like lifetimes ago.
And she asked the question he didn’t even want to think of: ‘Are you still in love with Nancy Wheeler?’ He thought and the revelation was like lightning coursing through his veins. He could feel the depleting warmth escape her hand as she held him tightly as she waited for his answer. He glanced down at her and it was like he was seeing her for the first time, and despite being covered in darkening shades of lilac and green, the darkness of her own blood drenched on her skin, she was painfully beautiful and his stomach lurched. He didn’t love Nancy Wheeler anymore. So he answered truthfully. “No.”
Her dazed gaze appeared almost expectant. “Why?”
The question was simple and he already knew the answer. He had known the answer for years and it was looking straight at him. “I think it’s because I found someone who’s a little bit better for me.” He reluctantly admitted, “Ever since Dustin got home, he’s been saying, ‘You know, you’ve gotta make a move. You gotta make a move.’ And the girl I like is someone I never would have talked to in school because she was so out of my league. And I didn’t, I crushed on her from afar, until she cussed me out at basketball practice in front of all my friends and I was a goner. I never should have tried to move on from her with Nancy. I should have just made a move with her.
Because she’s so funny. I feel like, this summer, I have laughed harder than I have laughed in a really long time. And she’s brave, way braver than me. She took a beating from a Russian soldier and cussed him out after. And she’s so pretty and when she looks at me, I forget how to breathe. She’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met before.” He glanced down at her, eyebrows furrowing with concern when he noticed her eyes were closed. He shook her gently. “[Y/N]?” A flicker of concern flashed through him.
Her eyes fluttered open at the movement. “I was listening, just trying to stop the room from spinning.” Her voice was soft as she spoke and she carefully laid her head against his thighs, whimpering through clenched teeth at the pain the small movement made. “I think this guy is on Russian drugs and isn’t thinking straight.”
Steve smoothed the loose strands of hair on her head. “Really? Because I think he’s thinking a lot more clearly than usual.” This wasn’t exactly how he wanted this conversation to happen. If he ever did manage to discover the courage to reveal his feelings for her, he didn’t think it would happen because she was slowly losing consciousness after being beaten by Russian soldiers.
Her eyes slowly blinked as she breathed a shaky breath. “You’re unbelievable, Steve Harrington.” She mumbled, focusing her bleary gaze on the stitching of his stained uniform. She squeezed his hand as tightly as she could manage and chuckled breathlessly. “You’re going to tell me this all over again when we get out of here, okay? You’re going to pour your stupid heart out to me when I’m not dying on a bathroom floor.”
He smiled, ignoring the sharp pain from his split lip. “I’ll write it down and everything.”
She opened her mouth to respond, but the nausea was intense and she quickly straightened, wincing as she hastily crawled against the floor to the toilet. Leaning against the porcelain of the toilet seat, she vomited. She gagged violently, tears stinging her eyes as the water sloshed around. Steve rushed ahead, gathering her hair from her face, and soothingly rubbed her shoulder as she continued throwing up. She yanked a strip of toilet paper, wiping the remnants off her skin. Her eyebrows pinched together with confusion as the stains on the paper were tarry, unusually dark. The chunks inside the toilet were black, unlike anything she’s ever vomited before.
The bathroom door slammed open and Dustin, Robin, and Erica appeared in the doorway. Steve peered over his shoulder, his wide-eyed expression fully indicating something was wrong. [Y/N] flushed the toilet as she turned to face the three. “I’m internally bleeding.” She informed them confirming Robin’s suggestion from earlier, remembering the pictures she had seen in her health textbooks. “And judging by my throw-up, it’s really bad. I’ve got a few hours.” She shuffled her weight as she struggled to stand on her wobbly legs. The wound on her thigh throbbed, feeling like a splinter as she tried to steady herself. Steve immediately grabbed her arms, gently helping her stand.
The worry on their faces was evident as Dustin nodded firmly, a newfound determination moving through him. “Okay, we need to get out of here, let’s go.” He carefully opened the door, peering outside at the wandering crowds departing from the finished movies. “Blend in.” They stepped outside, [Y/N] subtly clutching onto Steve’s arm for balance as she tried to conceal her limp. “We just have to get on the bus with the rest of these plebes, and home sweet home, here we come.”
Steve’s face blanched. “Uh, Dustin,” He hesitantly said, “We might not wanna go to your house. I might’ve told them your full name.”
Dustin’s eyes widened as he turned to glare at him. “What is wrong with you?”
“Dude, I was drugged.”
“So?”
“So?!”
“So, you resist. You tough it out. You tough it out like a man.”
[Y/N] gnawed on her lower lip to restrain the threatening whimpers as she teetered through the crowd. Everyone was enthralled in their own conversations about the movie, accidentally bumping and shoving her arm as they walked towards the mall exit. As they walked around a corner, there was a line by the entrance as a group of men examined everyone’s ID. “Guys,” Robin said, stopping Steve and Dustin from continuing onward. One of them locked eyes with them and started walking toward them.
“Abort,” Dustin said, whirling around and sprinting in the opposite direction. The five of them ran toward the escalators, cursing as the escalators were blocked by a velvet rope and no longer in service. Robin slipped in between the slide-like sheet between the escalators, sliding down with ease. They all mimicked her, Steve helping [Y/N] step onto the platform.
As they landed on the bottom of the escalators, they moved as quickly as they could behind a counter of a pizzeria at the food court, pressing their backs against the compartments behind the counter. [Y/N] squeezed Steve’s hand as she perched beside him, trying to calm her erratic breathing as the Russian guards spoke into his device. The five of their knees were pressed against their chests as they listened to the sudden silence.
The display car near the center of the mall alarm wailed, honking in a pattern as the metal creaked as it shook in place. The guards spun around, weapons aimed at the shaking car before it was thrown across the food court, colliding with the group of Russian guards and shattering everything it was thrown into. The five of them apprehensively peered over the countertop as the car hissed, glass shards collapsing onto the floor as the guards bled out. There, on the top floor, was the rest of the group.
[Y/N] sighed with relief as they moved around the counter, limping towards the approaching group. Dustin sprinted toward El, a wide smile on his face. “You flung that thing like a hot wheel!” He wrapped his arms around Mike and El.
Erica furrowed her eyebrows with bewilderment. “Lucas?!”
Lucas mimicked her reaction. “What are you doing here?!”
She jutted her thumb towards the three older ones. “Ask them. It’s their fault.”
Steve gently placed [Y/N] on one of the food court’s benches. “True, yeah. Totally true. It’s absolutely our fault.”
Robin glanced between the upside-down car and the group. “I don’t understand what happened to that car.”
Dustin pointed at Eleven. “El has superpowers.”
“She threw it with her mind. Come on, catch up.”
“Who’s El?”
Nancy inched forward, eyeing Robin with uncertainty. “I’m sorry, who are you?”
“I’m Robin, I work with Steve and [Y/N].”
“She cracked the top secret code.”
[Y/N] tightened the cloth around her oozing thigh. “Which is how we found out about the Russians.” She breathed out, cleaning her stained hands with the napkins on the tabletop.
Jonathan glanced at her with confusion. “Russians? What Russians?”
“Those were Russians?” Max asked, looking over where the dead men laid.
“Didn’t you hear our code red?” Dustin asked.
“Yeah, and I couldn’t understand what you were saying.”
“Goddamn low battery!”
“How many times do I have to tell you about the low battery?” Steve exclaimed, slapping his hands together.
Dustin rolled his eyes. “Well, everything worked out, didn’t it, Steve?”
Erica extended her arm toward [Y/N]. “Worked out? [Y/N] is literally dying.”
[Y/N] covered her mouth with her trembling hand, losing the remaining strength she contained, and collapsed onto the floor. Her knees crashed against marble flooring and she braced herself with her hands. She hurled, tarry chunks of vomit spreading across in a muddy puddle. The group rushed toward her, avoiding the vomit, and Steve gripped her hand. She fell to the floor and Steve cradled her in his arms. “What the hell happened to her?” Nancy said, pressing her two fingers against her wrist. Her pulse was there, faint and she missed it the first time, but still there nonetheless.
Nancy had never seen her as anything other than annoyingly perfect, but here she was, deathly pale and barely lucid as she mumbled something beneath her breath. The chilling spectacle was nerve-wracking and she was overcome with the sudden possibility that she was going to die in Steve’s arms.
Steve moved the hair from her damp forehead. “She was tortured by the Russians,” He stuttered, remembering the words she had uttered earlier. “She said she had internal bleeding.”
Robin tucked her hair behind her ears. “She was bleeding out from her thigh. I tried putting a tourniquet around it.”
Nancy pressed the open wound on her thigh, grimacing as the blood oozed between her fingers. Her blood was warm, but her skin was unusually cold. “Shit, she’s dying from blood loss.” Steve didn’t even think about the possibility of blood loss, but as he thought of it now, it was glaringly obvious. She was brutally beaten and he didn’t even know how much blood she lost during that and her thigh was seeping the entire time they escaped the Russian base.
Jonathan examined the pulsing wound, barely noticing something inside. Whatever she was impaled with, a piece of it was still inside her. He pushed himself off his knees. “Keep her talking. Keep her awake, okay?” He gave one final look at the girl, sprinting across the food court without another word.
[Y/N]’s eyes drooped as she struggled to breathe. “Hey, hey, hey, stay awake, [Y/N]. You gotta keep your eyes open.” Steve’s voice wavered as he caressed her cheek, eyes dwelling with burning tears as he shook her head. Her eyes temporarily fluttered open at the sudden movement and she blinked repeatedly, trying tyo stay awake.
Jonathan appeared, crouching to the floor, and grabbed her leg. “[Y/N], there’s still a piece stuck inside your leg and this is gonna hurt like hell, okay? But I need you to stay still.” He applied plastic gloves and gave Steve the wooden spoon. “You’re gonna want to bite down on this, okay?” The group watched the frightening scene unfold, their hearts racing erratically.
Steve placed the wooden spoon between her teeth. Jonathan grabbed the handle of the heated knife and brought the knife’s edge toward her skin before he hesitated, glancing at [Y/N]’s near-unconscious expression. He closed his eyes before he sliced the skin wide enough for his two fingers and [Y/N]’s eyes shot open, screaming loudly at the searing pain. When the wound was large enough for him, he shoved his gloved fingers inside. [Y/N]’s nails dug into Steve and Robin’s hands as she screamed as the tears streamed down her face. His fingers slid around as he tried to find the shrapnel of the blade she was stabbed with and [Y/N] was certain she was seconds from blacking out. After a few seconds, which she was convinced was an eternity, he retracted his hand from beneath her tissue and tossed the piece of the snapped blade onto the floor.
When [Y/N] awoke, she was carefully placed on the back of Nancy’s station wagon and surrounded by concerned children. Her eyes slowly blinked open, revealing the bright neon lights around the Starcourt Mall. She weakly glanced around as the doors closed, Nancy and Jonathan in the driver and passenger’s seats. “Where’s Steve?” She whispered, her mouth dry.
Max grabbed her feeble hand, squeezing reassuringly. “He’s taking Robin, Dustin, and Erica to Dustin’s radio thing. We’re all going to meet up later at Joyce and Hopper’s friend’s house.” She looked down at her thigh it was properly bandaged with clean gauze and the bleeding seemed to have ceased. Max noticed the questioning glance. “Jonathan cauterized it. It was the only way to stop the bleeding. You’re going to have a badass scar.”
Nancy twisted the key inside the ignition but the engine pathetically sputtered. Her eyebrows puckered together and she tried again but to no avail. “What’s wrong?” Jonathan asked as he watched her twist the key again and again.
“You can’t be serious. Come on!” Nancy exclaimed as the engine fizzled.
“Didn’t your mom just buy you this car?” Lucas apprehensively asked.
“Yes! I’m sure it’s fine.”
“Did you leave the lights on?” Will asked.
“No.”
“Do we have gas?”
“Yes!” She twisted the key again. “Come on!”
Jonathan stopped her, yanking her hand from the ignition. “Stop! Pop the hood.” The two of them quickly stepped outside the car, lifting the hood as they inspected the inner workings. [Y/N] pressed her temple against the glass of the window, her gaze moving to the sudden light across the parking lot. The headlights of a car in the distance flashed on as the engine revved almost tauntingly.
Nancy slammed her palm against the window, demanding them to leave the car and rush back inside the building. She yanked open the door and pulled each of the children from the backseats, ushering them inside through the entrance. She grabbed [Y/N]’s arm, threw it over her shoulders, and helped her inside. Once back inside the empty mall, she placed her down on a bench. They all began with their own personal tasks; Mike attempting to reach Steve and Dustin over his walkie-talkie, Nancy finding a suitable gun on the dead guards, and Lucas readying his slingshot. Will gave [Y/N] a water bottle, figuring she must’ve dehydrated, and opened the cap for her. She smiled at the gesture and accepted the bottle.
Jonathan called him over to where they all stood behind the damaged display car. They were going to try and flip it on its side and take the ignition cable from beneath the hood. They all groaned as they pushed with all their strength. The car did move, but not enough to make a difference with its position. El stepped forward, extending her hand outward but nothing happened. Horror transformed her face as she realized her powers were gone.
Mike made the suggestion they use the golden poles from the velvet ropes blocking the escalator to push the car’s side. When they all pushed at the same time, the car flipped over. Nancy popped open the hood with the hatch beside the steering wheel and Jonathan searched for the cable. Will nervously touched the back of his neck and glanced around, feeling the Mind Flayer’s presence.
From outside of Starcourt mall, there was a distant rumbling as if heavy footsteps were shaking the building. [Y/N] struggled to stand from the bench, peering upward at the large glass windows from the skylight of the mall. There was a dark figure approaching the windows, the glass cracking from the weight of the figure. The figure’s face loomed closer, revealing the distorted image of The Mind Flayer. [Y/N] grabbed Mike and El’s hand, who also dragged Max, pulling them away from the cracking skylight. She disregarded the throbbing pain with each step she took and pushed them behind the counter of one of the food joints. She threw her body over them like a protective veil as the Mind Flayer collapsed through the skylight and landed in the center of the food court. Small shards of glass landed on her clothed back as the rumbling thump shook the floor. She closed her eyes tightly as the thunderous snarl from the creature echoed through the walls.
She could hear Dustin from the discarded walkie-talkie, requesting they inform him of their safety, but the Mind Flayer grabbed the device with its tentacle protruding from its mouth, roared, and threw it against the car where it shattered into pieces and the transmission garbled. The Mind Flayer stomped across the food court, nearing the counter where she was covering the kids. She could hear the vulgar sloshing of its flesh as stopped, scrutinizing the area as its opened mouth dripped. The squelching of its footsteps dissipated as it stomped away, moving across the room as it tossed the corpse of the guard.
Mike carefully peered over the counter before falling back. “It’s turned away. If we go up the stairs now, we’ll make it.” He whispered, pointing to the escalator.
Max shook her head. “No way, not with their conditions.”
“We have to try—”
El latched her hand onto Mike’s forearm. “There’s another way to get out,” She whispered, “Through The Gap.” [Y/N] searched for the clothing store and upon seeing how close they were, she nodded. Max gripped her arm, pulling her from the floor and they rushed across, silencing their footsteps. As they stepped inside the entrance of the store, El crashed into a display. The display collapsed onto the floor, the thud echoing. The Mind Flayer roared and stomped toward The Gap, its thick leg blocking the entrance and clawed tentacles protruding from its flesh. They moved close to the floor as they searched for them. There was a deafening shriek as the monster latched onto a mannequin, tossing the plastic figure aside when it realized it wasn’t a person.
[Y/N] concealed them as much as she could manage behind the register counter, tears streaming down her cheeks as she heard the smaller screeching from the tentacle approaching where they were cowering. She could smell the rotten flesh as the squelching became louder. But, Lucas with his slingshot, popped a balloon in the distance. The Mind Flayer shrieked before stomping to find the source. [Y/N] ushered them to the employee corridor behind the register once the creature was far away enough for them to move.
They navigated through the employee corridors and [Y/N], who never would thought she would admit this, was grateful for taking the position at Scoops Ahoy because she never would’ve known where the emergency exits were if she hadn’t been through here before. She pressed the emergency door open, keeping it open as the three younger teenagers barged ahead. They exited the mall and through the gate that prevented non-employees from entering. [Y/N] stopped them, throwing her arm out as Billy glared at them from across the parking lot. His skin was covered with throbbing black veins and he was sweating from the heat of the flames escaping from beneath his smashed car’s hood. “Get back inside,” She demanded, pushing them away from the opened gate.
[Y/N] slammed the glowing red button beside the gate which commenced the whirring of the gate, slowly closing as she turned back around and limped inside. The lights of the employee corridors flickered as they moved as quickly as they could manage. They eventually stopped at the elevator and Mike repeatedly pressed the button on the bottom of the panel. El leaned against the wall, taking the weight off her injured ankle.
“Billy, you don’t have to do this.” Max pleaded from the corridor. Her eyes watered as she tried to bring him back from the Mind Flayer’s influence. “Your name’s Billy Hargrove. You live on 4819 Cherry Lane. Billy, please, I’m Max, I’m your sister—” He backhanded her with a shocking force and she fell to the floor, immediately unconscious. Mike, in a moment of panic, rushed forward with closed fists but he was easily thrown aside, dropping to the ground as he crashed against a wall of pipes. [Y/N] stood before El, covering her as she lurched forward, Steve’s pocketknife displayed. She sliced his arm before he grabbed the blade from her hand and studied the slash on his skin curiously. He cocked his head as his blank gaze returned to her. His black-veined hand wrapped around her throat and slammed her against the elevator door. She choked on her depleting breaths. In one fluid movement, he stabbed the bruised skin of her abdomen. She inhaled a strangled gasp as the blade tore through her flesh and his vacant stare never wavered from hers as he twisted the blade.
El screamed as she saw the darkness of her blood flow between Billy’s fingers before he yanked the blade from her stomach, releasing his tight grasp on her neck. [Y/N] fell to the floor with a whimper as she landed on her own bloodstains. Billy stepped over her limbs as if she were nothing but an inconvenience and merely slapped away El’s hand, smashing her head against the wall before throwing her unconscious figure over his shoulder and leaving the elevator room.
[Y/N] brought her trembling hand to the gushing wound, her drained gaze flooding with warm tears as she saw the redness coating her fingertips. From her peripheral vision, she could see the puddle of blood expand beneath her and the warmth seeped through her clothes, expanding and covering her like a scarlet blanket.
She thought of everything leading to this moment; from the cheerleading practice she endured where she was introduced to Steve Harrington, the Upside Down nearly destroying her town, and the unbreakable bond she formed with the pesky group of teenagers that she loved as if they were own blood. She never thought that cussing out Steve for throwing basketballs at her squad would’ve brought her to her death. But, despite feeling her life drain from her, she wouldn’t have changed a single thing.
She closed her eyes and listened to the thunderous explosions from the fireworks, wondering what the bright colors looked like as they exploded against the Mind Flayer, and allowed the darkness to comfort her.
Steve Harrington descended the escalator as the Mind Flayer collapsed onto the floor, lifeless as The Gate closed. Smoke from the extinguished fireworks clouded the air and scratched his throat as he breathed. He knew the monster was dead, but he still avoided the corpse as he walked beside Robin and checked the surrounding area. Billy was dead, bleeding black ooze, Max was wailing in El’s reassuring embrace beside her brother’s corpse and Mike’s exhausted figure, and the remainder of the group was on the upper level of the mall. “Where is she?” He questioned, glancing around the rubble and debris with concentrated eyes. He couldn’t see her and he knew she had to be around here somewhere. “Guys, where is she?” He was confused. She should have been right there with them.
Mike hesitantly removed his gaze from the puddle of inky blood soaking Billy’s clothes and his sympathetic eyes connected with his. Steve furrowed his eyebrows as Mike didn’t speak, but as he closed his eyes tightly, a teardrop dripping down his cheek, his silence told him everything he needed to know. Steve fought back the crashing wave of tears as he softly shook his head, his broken expression shattering as he refused to believe that she was gone. She was just here an hour ago, barely alive, but alive nonetheless. Robin wiped her damp cheeks as she wept at the revelation. She backed away, nearly stumbling into a large piece of debris as she clutched her aching chest.
The remainder of the group descended the broken escalators and tragic words weren’t necessary to reveal the loss they experienced. Nancy apprehensively loomed closer, softly touching his shoulder. “Steve…” She whispered gently.
Steve whirled around, pushing her hand away from him. “Don’t.” No one, not even Nancy, had ever seen him like this before. This wasn’t just mourning, it was hatred and crippling guilt and torment. “You’re not dead, you’re not dead.” He mumbled to himself as if he said the words enough they would become true. He glanced at Mike’s crying figure. “Where is she?”
Mike reluctantly made eye contact with him. He shook his head softly. “Steve, I don’t think you wanna see her like that.” Because he didn’t want to see her like that but he didn’t have a choice. He didn’t want to see the woman who babysat him and his friends as he grew up lifeless and surrounded by a pool of her own blood. But as Max woke him up and the first thing he saw when his droopy eyes opened was his friend dead. That unfortunate image was seared inside his cluttered mind.
Steve nearly collapsed onto the floor at the words. “Where is she?” His voice cracked and his bottom lip quivered. Mike didn’t speak, only peered over his shoulder where Scoops Ahoy’s broken sign flickered. Steve sprinted inside the parlor and pushed through the employee corridors, frantic eyes searching every section.
When he stepped inside the elevator room, the warm air was pulled from his lungs and he could smell the distinct smell of copper. He always thought dead bodies were supposed to be brutal and grisly, enough to make his stomach churn from the sight, but she still looked like [Y/N]. She looked almost peaceful and if he closed his eyes enough, she could have been sleeping on a bed of roses. But she wasn’t sleeping and the crimson wasn’t blossoming roses. He couldn’t stop the burning tears from streaming as he collapsed onto the floor beside her corpse. Her dark blood stained his knees and his socks as he kneeled. Apprehensive, he carefully touched her cold skin and pushed her hair away from her face. He sobbed at the undeniable truth beneath his shaking touch. He should have been there for her. He loomed closer, pressing a small kiss to her pale temple. He wrapped his arm beneath her legs and his other steadied her back. Her lifeless arm dangled as he carried her bridal style through the flickering corridor. Soon he was crossing the ice cream parlor and the food court where the remainder of the group waited for him.
The helicopters and military stormed the debris of the Starcourt Mall. They escorted him from the premises and brought him where dozens of military troops were stationed outside in the parking lot, ambulances with EMTs preparing IV bags, and some media and news reporters flashing their cameras. But Steve didn’t care. Everything was a blurred haze as he stepped outside of the mall with the woman he loved lifeless in his arms as the sky cried for the earth’s loss.
Someone pulled her from his grasp and a flash of ire coursed through him. He tightened his hands around her, spewing a string of curse words at the person. Robin rushed beside him, a fuzzy blanket wrapped around her shoulders, and muttered something to him about calming down. And he knew he shouldn’t have become angry at the concern she was giving him, but how was he supposed to calm down? She was gone. She died alone. She bled out alone and he should have been there. None of this should have happened. She was supposed to go to fashion school and listen to him pour out his stupid feelings for her after he wrote it all down.
Sam Owens appeared from the drizzle of the rain, the helicopter’s spotlight illuminating him as he stopped where Steve stood. “Come on, son. You’ve got to let her go.” He couldn’t, though. Because releasing her would mean this wasn’t some vivid nightmare and he wasn’t going to wake up and throw on his uniform and start throwing ice cream scoops into waffle cones as she teased him about how bad he was at pouring the sprinkles. “We can help her, but you’ve got to let her go.”
Stranger Things is a show about people who don't want to be friends with Steve Harrington and how they inevitably become best friends with Steve Harrington. That's like 30% of the plot.
Steve Harrington x fem!reader
[22.4k] A biggie. Best friends to lovers, summer, childhood, pining, crushes, a kiss that wasn't supposed to happen, the last cherry popsicle and three promises.
When you were both eight years old, Steve Harrington handed you the last popsicle and told you he loved you.
It was the most innocent kind of talk, from the mouths of kids, fresh faced, summer freckles, ankles dipped in the pool and sunburn on your cheeks.
You weren’t truly sure you both knew what those words meant back then, the depth and meaning that they held. But you said them back, lemon and sugar on your tongue and he’d beamed at you, brighter than the Indiana sun and that was that.
And that night, when you were camped out on his bedroom floor, the first day of summer vacation and his bed sheets draped across your heads, he shared his secret stash of twizzlers with you, lips tinted red and pinkie fingers linked.
His eyes were solemn when he whispered to you, the dulled yells of his parents downstairs acting as his backing track. His mom was slurring a little, his dad laughing mirthlessly and something smashed. You had both flinched, moved closer together between the pillows and stuffed animals.
You remember his mouth brushing up against the shell of your ear, hushed promises falling from his lips, the kind that only an eight year old could make.
Steve Harrington promised you three things that night:
One, he’d always be your best friend.
Two, he’d always protect you from everything bad and scary.
And three, he’d never break your heart.
He only kept two of those.
Have I known you twenty seconds or twenty years?
“I think Jessica is coming over,” Steve said as he handed you a can of soda, the cold condensation on it making your fingers slip over his.
You screwed your face up and rolled your eyes behind your sunglasses - Steve’s sunglasses - ‘cause it was a rare Saturday that you’d managed to get off work together, seventeen and desperate for time to do nothing with your best friend.
It wasn’t meant, but you let the sound of annoyance slip from your lips, stretching yourself out on one of the Harrington’s sunloungers. Steve looked at you from where he’d sat himself down by the pool edge, exasperated and somewhat fond. You picked at the edge of your bikini bottoms, peachy orange and still damp from the water.
You scrunched your nose, looking over at him from over the top of his old Ray Bans as he took a sip of his cola, eyes on you, waiting for you to talk. He knew you wanted to say something, could tell from your face, the way you twisted your lips and fidgeted with your swimsuit.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
If you didn’t know the boy well enough, you’d have thought his tone was condescending, maybe even a little mocking. But when you were both fifteen, he’d stood by your side at the counter of the ice cream parlour, watching your cheeks flush a pretty shade of pink when the older guy behind the freezer had winked at you, handed you your cone and called you ‘sweetheart’.
Steve had called you the same ever since, never getting tired of the way you lit up at it, all soft and full of affection, lips twisted to hide your smile, nose turning pink.
“I thought it was just gonna be us hanging out today?” You asked, trying to keep your voice level, casual.
It was silly the way your chest was hurting, an anxious creep across your bones, making your skin too warm in a way that the sun wasn’t. It wasn’t necessarily because you didn’t like Jessica, you didn’t really know, honestly.
But you’d been in Steve’s life long enough to know that not many of his girlfriends had liked you. It made hang outs and movie nights awkward, a fresh set of eyes on you, watching the way you and Steve interacted, holding back from the way you’d normally touch him, keeping your head off his shoulder, throwing your legs over the arm of the chair instead of his lap.
You’d go to the kitchen, the bathroom, bringing back more snacks and a drink only to hear the boy being interrogated about how long had Steve known you, didn’t she have a boyfriend and god, why was she always here?
You’d stand with your back against the hallway wall, a packet of twizzlers crushed to your chest as you listened for Steve’s response. It was always the same, sure and strong and leaving no room for argument. It made you feel warm and a little safer, like you belonged in the Harrington house just as much as him, brought up in the large home with its pool and absent parents together, barbecues in the summer, Christmas in the dining room, mom and dads by your sides.
“She’s my best friend,” he’d always say, “where she goes, I go.”
Some girls put up with it for longer than others, dirty looks given to you out of the car window when Steve would insist on dropping you home too, a messy press of a kiss pushed to your cheek before he made sure you got in your front door okay.
There were girls that were done after bumping into you in the school hall, a sweater on your frame, the hem almost covering your shorts and god, they’d think, that looks awfully familiar. They’d sit in whatever class they had next, eyes on the chalkboard but their minds trying to decide if they’d seen that sweater on Steve’s bedroom floor before, thrown lazily over the back of his desk chair.
You’d find them arguing about it at his car after school, voices clipped and raised, drawing a little too much attention and you’d hear your name said like a curse. Steve would let them walk away, hands rubbing at his eyes and when he’d pull himself onto the trunk, he’d find your gaze across the parking lot and he’d smile, a little soft and a little sad.
But he’d look at you from the driver seat when he was taking you both home, eyes flickering with something else as they dare to roam across your shoulders, your chest. You’d catch him staring, brows raised and your knowing smile would make him blush but he’d tell you, everytime:
“Looks better on you anyway.”
Steve shrugged, looking a little guilty but swung a leg into the pool, letting the water swish around his shin.
“I know, but,” another shrug, his gaze on the blue tiles, “she’s my girlfriend.”
You sighed, pushing yourself off of the lounger and walking over to the edge of the pool, chlorine and cedar from the garden filling the warm air. You poked a toe to the boy’s side before sitting down next to him, both feet in the water and the garden slabs sun-warmed against the back of your thighs.
You nudged a shoulder into Steve’s, fighting a smile when he did it back, shuffling closer so your arms brushed together.
“We haven’t hung out just the two of us in ages,” you told him, trying to sound annoyed but your words came out a little mournful, huffy even. “It’s been weeks.”
You knew it wasn’t Steve’s fault. Between school and both of you working weekend jobs, it was hard to find time to see each other. And since the startling realisation of finding out there were kids with superpowers out in Hawkins, other worlds that held monsters and magic, you figured trips to the cinema were at the bottom of both of your lists.
“M’sorry,” Steve said anyway, and you hated the way he sounded, like he really meant it, like it made him sad too. “If the kids didn’t need rides to the arcade all the damn time, maybe we’d-”
You rolled your eyes, fond. “You know it’s not the kids I mind, Harrington.”
And that was true. You and Steve had taken your unofficial babysitter roles pretty seriously, and with six twelve year olds to wrangle together, it would’ve been a hard enough job without the threat of impending doom lurking behind every corner.
You’d grown up thinking monsters only lived under your bed, hiding behind your closet door, and they could be banished with a flashlight, a kiss from your mother, the promise of chocolate chip pancakes in the morning from your father.
But you’d grown up too fast, seeing things that weren’t supposed to be real and you hated the way you knew how to butterfly stitch someone's skin back together, how you’d seen too much of your best friend's blood.
He pressed his nose to your shoulder, warm skin on warm skin and he let his teeth graze you, a playful threat of a bite before he sighed, knowingly, understanding.
“Jess said she likes you,” Steve offered, hands on the grass as he leaned back, head tilted to the sun. He was watching you from under his lashes, the length of them casting shadows over his cheekbones. “Said you had chem together and you were crazy smart.”
You scoffed, laughed mirthless, because the only reason Jessica Preston knew you had class with her was ‘cause she used you to cheat off of you before you moved seats.
“I bet she did,” was the only answer you gave, because the garden gate was suddenly squeaking and Steve was standing up, splashing water over your thighs as he greeted the girl in question.
“Jess, hey!” Steve called out, reaching for her and pressing a kiss to her lips. His came away glossy and a little pink as Jessica reached into her bag, pulling out a tube and quickly reapplying. He gestured to you, smiling, “you two know each other, right?”
You grimaced, holding your hand up in some sort of wave before you pushed Steve’s glasses onto your head.
“Sure,” you said, not sounding sure at all. You stood up, brushing drops of water and small flecks of gravel from your skin. “Chemistry, Mrs Telford’s class.”
Jessica squinted at you, pretty features twisted in confusion and Steve wanted to jump head first into the pool from the awkward silence that had filled the yard.
“Right!” The girl finally gasped out, all false smiles and white teeth. “Totally! Of course.”
And then, you were dismissed.
“Steve, there’s a party tonight,” you heard the girl tell him, stomach twisting as you walked past them, grabbing your shorts from the lounger and dragging them up your legs. “Matt’s parents are gone and,” she tapped a finger on his chest, trailing it down his sternum. “So are mine.”
You wondered if you had too much sun, wondered if the heat was what was making your insides bubble, your chest feeling too tight. You found your way into the kitchen, the open patio door doing nothing to curb the same heat that had leaked in from outside.
You ran the tap, waiting for it to turn freezing before filling a glass and chugging it, back pressed against the counter so you didn’t have to look out the window.
You could still hear them though.
“You can pick me up, right? I’ll be ready at eight and then you can stay over at mine,” Jess was practically purring and it made you slam the now empty glass down into the sink a little harder than you meant to. “We’ll have the place all to ourselves.”
“Uh, actually, we’re having a movie night later,” you froze, turning to look over your shoulder to see Steve gesture to you through the window. Jess followed his hand, lips downturned and eyes holding venom.
“You’re kidding right?” The girl asked, disbelief spilling from her lips. “I’m offering you a night in my bed and you’re turning me down for Back To The Future with her?”
It was actually The Goonies, you’d wanted to tell her, but Steve was licking his lips nervously, eyes flickering between you and Jess and you really wish you could say something to save him.
You stepped out the patio doors, arms crossed self consciously over your chest. “Steve, it’s okay, we-”
Steve shrugged and he didn’t look surprised when Jessica stepped out of his embrace, glossy lips twisted in shock and annoyance.
“We’ve had it planned for a while Jess,” he explained, “movies, pizza and-”
“Well come after,” Jess demanded, like it was simple. “Or better yet, just do your stupid movie night some other time.”
Steve looked confused, staring down at the girl as if he was wondering which part she wasn’t understanding. You grimaced, eyes wanting to fall shut ‘cause you knew what the boy was going to say and god, you wished you could hide from it.
But then he was explaining to her that you were staying over, crashing at his like you always did, like you had done for years.
Steve said it so plainly that you almost wanted to laugh. In fact, your lip twitched, the threat of a smile pulling at it and you turned, toeing at the grass as you waited for the impending blow out. The boy had an endearing habit of stating the truth with such a sincerely soft tone, almost oblivious to the carnage his honesty could sometimes cause.
“I’m sorry,” Jessica stated, voice climbing a little higher in volume and pitch as she took in this new information. “I could’ve sworn you just told me you had another girl staying with you tonight.”
Steve scrunched his nose, mouth parting as he wondered what he was supposed to say to that. He floundered, hands gesturing wildly as he tried to gain some control on the matter.
“Jess, what? It’s not a big deal, it’s not like that.”
And he was right, it wasn’t. Not yet.
Nothing had ever happened with you and Steve, not when you were pressed together at night, side by side in his bed, moving closer as you slept, pillow creases on your cheeks, hands close to places you shouldn’t have been touching.
Nothing happened in the mornings either, when you were both soft with sleep, hair mussed and misbehaving, warm hands and toes pushing into the other's skin as you tried to find the comfort of that lazy feeling in each other.
You’d never noticed him stare at you when you got out of the shower, skin still damp, hair pushed back from your face and a too big shirt clinging to your thighs. He never realised you held your breath when he pulled his top off at night, body warm and solid beside you, fingers desperate to trace a map of constellations across his back, freckle to freckle.
Your realisation that your best friend wasn’t just attractive, but was pretty, was a slow burn. It came as you aged, an appreciation growing as you did, Steve too. You noticed the boys in your class as they grew taller, filling out, and you didn’t realise the same was happening to Steve until the summer you both turned fifteen.
You’d spent school vacation at his parents lake house, watched him laze shirtless on the small motorboat, new muscles flexing, drops of water casting tiny rainbows across the tanned skin it clung to. He’d grown his hair out, chocolate brown strands out of control and messy, boyish as it was pretty. You didn’t know what to do with this new information, new feelings, and when Steve continued to throw you over his shoulder, playing in the shallows of the lake, his wide hands spanning the curves of your thighs, your hips, you ignored the burn his touch left behind.
Jess huffed out a laugh and it sounded dangerous, a little like a threat. She found your gaze, held it until hers dropped to scan you up and down, doing her best to make you feel small.
“Whatever, Harrington,” she shoved past Steve, shoulder edging into his chest as she headed for the gate. “Ask your little friend to suck your dick instead.”
You burned at her words, eyes wide as you stared at a crack in the patio, refusing to watch as she stormed through the gate, the hinges protesting loudly as it was slammed shut, leaving you both in silence.
The trickle of the pool filter was the only sound for a minute, maybe two, then you heard Steve sigh, heavy and world weary. You looked at him, feeling a little guilty.
“Shouldn’t you go after her?” You asked.
Steve gave a half shrug, already moving to sit down on the lounger that you’d spent your morning on. You joined him, sitting on the end so you didn’t touch, like you weren’t supposed to after Jessica’s accusation.
“Nah,” he told you, “it’s fine, it’s… whatever.”
You snorted and the sound made the corners of his mouth lift a little, eyes flitting over to you, always interested in what you were going to say.
“That’s a new height of romance, Harrington,” you mused, foot dipping into a small puddle of pool water. You drew lines and shapes on the dry concrete with your toe, watching the sun dry them out almost instantly. “It’s whatever?”
“I dunno,” Steve sighed, reaching over to pluck his sunglasses back from the top of your head and pushing them over the bridge of his nose. He looked good with them on, you mused, too pretty, too nice. “Wasn’t like we had that much in common.“
“Then why date her in the first place?” You asked, face twisting with annoyance.
Steve had developed a habit in freshman year of dating girls who gave him nothing more than wandering hands in the back of his car, passive aggressive comments when he missed their calls and whiplash when they found out about you.
A smirk tugged at his lips, a handsome match with his Ray Bans and messy hair and he turned to you, eyebrows raised.
“You’re a pig,” you muttered, trying to sound disgusted but Steve was pushing his fingers into your sides, hands dragging over your ribs and you were laughing despite yourself, “get off me!”
You were ignored, unsurprisingly, and you wondered if Jessica had made it back to her car yet, if she’d driven away or if she had heard your shriek of delight when Steve suddenly stood and scooped you up.
One arm was wrapped around your waist, a wide, rough hand pressed against the skin just under your breast, his thumb grazing the of your bikini. The other curved itself on your thigh, your body held tight to his as he ran with you, hurtling you both to the edge of the pool and you pressed your face into his neck when he jumped, bracing yourself for the cool water.
Steve didn’t let you go until you both surfaced, his feet planted on the bottom of the pool as he pushed you both to the surface. Your hands were around his neck and you gasped, water dripping from your lashes and lips, hair a wet mess and he was laughing. That soft laugh that made any summer day feel warmer than it already was, a laugh that reminded you of fresh lemonade and bedroom sheet forts.
He let go of your legs before you waist, letting the lower half of your body slide out of his grasp and slide against his, so you were chest to chest, your abdomens pressed together and you almost lost your footing, chin slipping under the water, eyes gazing up at him despite the way the sun made it hurt.
Maybe it was the way you pressed a hand to his stomach to ground yourself, feeling the muscles tense under your touch, maybe it was the way you were looking at him, maybe he just forgot he wasn’t supposed to look at you like that. But something happened and Steve cleared his throat, letting go of your waist and allowing himself to fall backwards and under the water.
He reappeared a few feet away, hair darker and slicked back, eyes a little wild as he looked at you, like you were suddenly dangerous.
And I'm highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you.
You weren’t overly fond of Nancy Wheeler, not at first.
You couldn’t deny that the dislike you felt for the girl stemmed from jealousy and your own inability to get a handle on your feelings but, you had to admit, she was better than most of the girls Steve had dated before.
Pretty, smart, sharp and with a keen eye. She liked journalism, the quiet and even you. You shared the knowledge of The Upside Down, bonded over the fear you both felt for her brother and his friends and when you passed each other in the hallway, you nodded, civil and overly aware of all the things you’d both seen together.
You weren’t joined at the hip and you didn’t love how she slid her hand into Steve’s, or how he kissed her at her locker, telling you he’d catch up with you at lunch. You’d spent months telling yourself you weren’t jealous of Nancy, just that you missed your best friend and you resented the way the girl took up all his free time.
You missed the way he snuck in your bedroom window, a pointless task and waste of his energy, ‘cause your parents would hear him clambering up their drainpipe, eyes rolling, fond and affectionate, ‘cause it was Steve.
He’d always told you that he did it for the fun of it, to see you smile when his head appeared over the sill and so you’d help him clamber over the window frame. He’d spend the late hours with you, whispering about nothing and laughing about everything, shoulder to shoulder in your bed until you both fell asleep, sprawled on top of the sheets, his shoes in the middle of your floor and his arm slung over your waist.
You liked it when the sun woke you early, the curtain still opened from when you’d forgotten to close them after Steve’s sudden appearances, the light pink and peach as it leaked into your room. It painted stripes of light and shadow over your walls, over the boy’s broad shoulders and cheek, the other smushed into your mattress, hair a mess and lips parted sleepily.
You got to admire him like that, when his eyes were still closed and he was so unaware. Steve couldn’t catch you staring, wondering if his lips were actually as soft as they looked, if he knew how pretty you thought he was, if he thought you were pretty too.
He still picked you up for school in the morning, his BMW sat at the end of your drive but his clothes were sleep creased, hair mussed from spending the night with Nancy instead, sneaking through her bedroom window and not yours. He still smacked a kiss to your cheek when you parted for class but it wasn’t the same, he wasn’t quite just yours anymore and you hated the way it hurt.
So yeah, you could appreciate that Nancy was a nice person and seemed to be good for Steve - at least, until she wasn’t - but you didn’t have to like her for it.
When she broke your best friend’s heart, you’d found him sitting on the hood of his car after school, lips downturned and expression sour, nothing but worry beating in your chest ‘cause you hadn’t seen him since the morning before and no one answered your calls to his house that night.
But then rumours started swirling around the halls, floating over tables in the cafeteria like wildfire and you couldn’t fucking find him. You saw Nancy in the library during your free period, her head bent close to Jonathan Byers as they whispered about something you couldn’t hear, their hands on the table, fingers too close to touching and Nancy had the right to look guilty when her gaze met your own.
So you’d marched straight over to Steve and he crumbled a little when he saw it was you, slipping off the hood and letting you usher him to the front seat. He didn’t really hesitate when you held out your hand to him, silently asking him to let you take care of him.
He placed the car keys in your palm, eyes tired, face sad and you were desperate to fix it. You hadn’t seen Steve like that before and you didn’t know what to do, his pain was yours, your heart beating hard against your chest until you felt like your bones were bruised.
There were talks of the girl cheating on him, wandering around late with Jonathan and you knew they shared the same worries and trauma that you all did when it came to knowing things the rest of the town didn’t, but you didn’t know what was happening between the pair.
So you drove him home, listened when Steve told you that he loved her, that he didn’t know how to fix it. But then it was and then it wasn’t, a game of on and off, yes and no, that you couldn’t really keep up with.
It all came to a head on Halloween, after months of leaving your window open for no one.
Steve climbed in, startling you, hands finding your bedroom floor before his feet did and when he stood, eyes meeting yours, you wanted to be mad at him.
It had been a week since you hung out, passing in the halls and waving when you could, exams stressing you out and his time taken up by Nancy and all the parties he seemed intent on going to. He’d given up trying to get you to go with him, sick of it all after the second time, a spare part, third wheel, an audience to his kisses with Nancy.
But he stood by your bed with the most forlorn expression on his face, features soft and watery and you simply pulled back the sheets, shuffling over to the side that had been made yours when you were both seven, so Steve could claim his.
The boy toed off his shoes, his jacket falling to the carpet as he shrugged it off and you felt like a kid again when he crawled across your mattress, shuffling underneath the covers and pushing himself against you.
Steve got as close to you as he could without asking for a hug, his pride already seemingly too hurt to put himself out there, even with you. But he didn’t hesitate when you turned into him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into you, your nose pressed into his hair. He smelled like smoke and weed from the party, a little like Steve underneath it.
He returned your touch instantly, seeking it out with a desperation that almost shocked you, eager to accept it when it was offered. He tugged you in by the waist, arms wrapped around you and his face pressed into the crook of your neck.
He wished he told you then, that you smelled like summer and afternoons by the pool, like cherry popsicles and promises and home. But he didn’t feel brave enough, not then, not yet.
“We broke up,” Steve finally mumbled, voice a little broken and muffled by your neck and hair. “She broke up w’me. Called us bullshit.”
You frowned, confused, pulling back a little in the hopes that Steve would look at you and explain but his grip on your waist only tightened and you patted at his hair, smoothed the almost curls at the nape of his neck and whispered his name.
“Steve, hey, babe, what?” You received a groan in answer but you persisted, shuffling out of his grasp and gripping his chin with your finger, pushing at him a little pleadingly until the boy looked up and met your gaze.
“What happened?”
Steve didn’t answer until you pulled the sheets over your heads, your own little bed fort that let the dim light of your bedside lamp filter through, soft and warm and hazy. You let go of his chin, your hand smoothing his hair back from his face and he pushed his cheek into your touch as he spoke.
“Nancy, it’s over,” he told you, a frown pulling at his brow, “she said the whole relationship was bullshit, that I was bullshit.”
You held your breath, letting him talk as you smoothed a thumb over his cheekbone, feeling him relax into you despite the way he was letting his words tumble from his lips, mixing in with his emotions until he was stuttering over himself.
“She, she said we were just acting like we were in love?” Steve caught your stare, his eyes confused as he looked at you, as if he could find an answer in your gaze but you just gaped at him. “Said that I only thought I was in love with her ‘cause I was too busy tryin’ to pretend I wasn’t in love with someone else, or some shit like that, I don’t fuckin’ know.”
“What?” You whispered, voice full of surprise because what the fuck?
“Right?” He answered, indignant and wide eyed. “I don’t know what she was talkin’ about, she would answer me, just told me she wasn’t in love with me and god, fucking Byers took her home.”
“Jonathan?”
You screwed up your face, hardly even reacting when Steve groaned again, pushing himself back into you, his face comfortably pressed into your chest, just above the swell of your breast, his mouth warm through your shirt.
It should’ve startled you, the proximity, the intimacy, especially after missing him for so long. But it was still Steve, your best friend, the boy that promised to be there until the very end.
“Why’d Jonathan take her home?” You asked, your cheek pressed to the top of his head as you spoke, the sheets fluttering around you both as Steve shifted, arms wrapping around you more, pulling you until you were flush with his body.
He couldn’t have been touching more of you if he tried.
“She was drunk,” he mumbled into your chest, lips moving over your shirt, making the material shift across your skin and it lit you up, body electric and the air buzzing. “I told him to. She didn’t want me.”
You sighed, eyes closing at the pained sound in the boy’s voice and you let him hold you, your own hand taking into his hair, scratching at his scalp in a way you knew he liked.
“Steve,” you murmured, soft and sympathetic.
He whispered your own name back to you, his tone the same and it made you smile. You could feel his own against your chest, lips lifting, breath coming out in a small huff.
“You could still talk to her tomorrow, y’know?” You said conversationally. You hated yourself for trying to fix it for him, for attempting to out the girl back between you both but fuck if you weren’t a good friend. “Maybe she just said all that shit ‘cause she had too much to drink.”
You twirled a length of the boy’s hair around your finger, making it curl. “Was it Jack Templeman’s punch? That dude makes rocket fuel in a bowl, she might have been absolutely wasted.”
Steve shook his head before he pulled back, falling into your pile of pillows and gazing at you.
“Nah, I don’t wanna chase her,” he said and despite the sadness in his voice, he sounded sure. “I don’t wanna be with someone who thinks I’m bullshit. I mean, I know I’m not perfect, but damn, bullshit?”
You shook your head, gaze hard and you wanted to shake him, to make him understand how wrong Nancy was.
“Steve, you're not bullshit.” He held your stare, lips parted. “You’re the furthest thing from that, I’m sorry I don’t know why Nancy said that, I wish I could-”
He stopped you before you could continue, a small smile lifting at his lips and he found your hands between the tangle of sheets, tugging you over to him and onto his chest. You lay your head there, protesting when Steve’s finger poked at your cheek, fond and soft.
“I know what you’re gonna say, sweetheart, and it’s fine.” He sighed, sleepy and weighted. “You don’t need to fix everything for me, not this time, anyway.“
You fell silent, thinking about the times Steve was referring to, wondering if this was finally the year he stopped needing you. The thought made your chest hurt, your eyes blur and you sniffed.
“My dad’ll be home from that conference soon,” he mumbled softly and you could tell without even looking at Steve that he had his eyes closed. “You can come fight my battles for me then, how’s that sound short stuff?”
It was silly, his words. The way they made you feel. Like you were needed again, important. Like he didn’t wanna face the things that scared him without you. It hurt that after all those years, he still felt like that about his own father but it calmed a part of you to know that he didn’t seem as cut up about Nancy Wheeler as he once was.
“Are you okay?” You asked, tentative, and you made a face ‘cause god, that seemed like a stupid fucking question. “Will you be okay?” You asked instead.
Steve hummed noncommittally and you craned your neck to look up at him, smiling when you were proven right at his closed eyes. His lashes fluttered against his cheeks as you shifted over him, tucking yourself into his side.
“I mean yeah, sure,” he murmured, voice dropping lower and rougher as sleep pulled at him. “I’ll be fine. I’ve got you, haven’t I?”
He turned his face to yours at that, nose nudging at your forehead as he blindly sought out your features, pressing a soft, warm kiss to your temple.
“M’sorry,” he whispered into your hair and you stilled, swallowing the lump that had caught in your throat. “I’m so sorry I’ve not been around.“
You squeezed your eyes closed at his words, letting them burn until you were sure you weren’t going to cry.
You wanted to say it was okay, to soothe him, to make Steve feel better but the lie got caught on your tongue and you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him something that wasn’t true.
You shrugged instead, lips twisted to keep them from turning downwards, his words heavy on you because god, you’d missed him so much.
“I missed you,” Steve whispered and fuck, it lit you up inside. “Like, really missed you.”
He was soft and gentle with it, words brushing against your temple, breath warm, hands twisting in the sides of your shirt, barely grazing at your skin, head butting at yours playfully.
He was Steve, he was late nights, long days, summer rainstorms, driving lessons, flunking your test, Saturday afternoon drives, feet on the dash, music too loud, smile blinding.
He was a little bit yours again.
“Yeah,” you sighed, feeling a little lighter than you had before, eyes falling shut like Steve’s. “I missed you too, Harrington.”
Steve’s breath was becoming slower, chest falling heavy and lazy and you both curled into each other on instinct, sleep pulling both of you together, the same way it did when you were both ten and piled on the sofa, movie still playing.
“You still my best friend?” His voice was a soft mumble, and you heard the worry there, hidden behind a crack of humour.
“Yeah, I’m still your best friend.”
—————
You didn’t see Nancy until a week later, and when you did, you didn’t expect her to corner you at your locker, big eyes wide and asking if you could talk.
You met her after school, walking to the opposite end of the parking lot from where Steve would be waiting on you, perched on the hood of his car as usual.
Nancy saw you coming, her face a little nervous as she bid goodbye to Jonathan who’d been standing beside her and you watched as they squeezed each other's hand before he took off.
You raised your brows as you approached, tugging your headphones to sit around your neck and you wondered what Nancy Wheeler could possibly have to say to you.
The world wasn’t ending, the kids were all safe and she wasn’t your best friend's girl anymore.
She squinted at you, trying to work out your mood, your emotions but you remained a little stoned faced, wondering if Steve would be pissed if had to see you here. You knew they’d spoken since Halloween, a chat that Steve had said felt too formal and stilted, but the air was cleared enough that they could cross paths when dropping Dustin, Will and Lucas at Mike’s house, an awkward wave exchanged from the front door to the car.
“You wanna sit?” Nancy asked, gesturing to a bench that sat by the edge of the school line, shadowed by trees that provided a little coverage from the wind that was picking up now that winter was approaching. You kicked at the leaves on the ground and shoved your hands into your jacket pocket, holding it tighter to your body.
“Sure,” you muttered, following her across the grass, leftover rain sticking to your boots.
The sky was still blue, a crisp Fall day that turned your nose pink, numbed your fingers and had you wishing for a Hawkins summer, the smell of sunscreen and cut grass replaced with rain and the promise of snow.
You sat on opposite ends of the bench, bodies turned to face each other and with the safety of your school bags between you both. You picked a dead leaf off the sole of your shoe, waiting for the other girl to talk.
“Look, I don’t know what Steve’s explained to you,” Nancy said, voice cracking a little with what seemed like nerves. “You know, when we spoke the other week.”
You shrugged, “I mean, not much,” you answered, “but it’s really not my business to know.”
Nancy nodded at that, appreciative, “I guess but I just want us to be friends, you know? I wanted you to understand why I broke it off with Steve. He’s a great guy but-”
“I know he is,” you interrupted, brows pulled together in confusion ‘cause there was never any debate about that. You softened a little when Nancy smiled at you, lips pulled up and eyes a little knowing. “Sorry, that was rude.”
“It’s fine,” she told you, voice lighter than it had been before. “Like I said, Steve’s great… I guess I just didn’t love him the way I should’ve. And maybe that would’ve been a little easier if I didn’t see the way he looked at someone else.”
You frowned, staring at the girl as she looked back at you, silently willing you to catch on.
“What?” You asked, “I thought this was about you and Jonathan? You can’t act as if you haven’t been glued to Byers hip since this happened.”
Nancy had the right to look guilty, picking at her nail before looking back up at you. “Yeah, no, you’re right. I didn’t mean for what happened with Johnathan to happen… it just did, but that doesn’t make it okay.”
She brushed a curl from her face, bringing her bag down to her feet so there was less separating her from you. The wind rushed at you both, stinging your cheeks and whipping at your clothes before it settled back down and let Nancy speak.
“I’m not blaming this on Steve, I’m not, and I shouldn’t have said he was bullshit,” she rushed out, “maybe we were just meant for other people you know? And think that, maybe, Steve doesn’t know that he’s already found his person.”
“I genuinely don’t know what you’re talking about,” you huffed, “but whatever. I’m just glad I don’t have to hear the two of you arguing every other day.”
Nancy nodded, smiling at the way you were avoiding her gaze, your mind suddenly racing with what she’d said.
“For what it’s worth,” the girl murmured, foot nudging friendly against yours, “it would probably make it a lot easier on the poor guy if this girl could admit that she was in love with him too.”
“Alright, yeah,” you stood up suddenly, cheeks flushed and your head a little scattered. “I think you’ve got it twisted Wheeler, but, uh, good talk.”
The girl hid a laugh, pressing her lips together as she watched you gather your bag, eyes shining. Nancy nodded, looking up at you as you stood a little awkwardly. You raised a hand in a goodbye, a small smile lifting at your lips in what seemed like an amicable agreement.
You stopped before you got too far, the sun in your eyes as you squinted back at the girl who was still sitting on the bench.
“Hey, Nancy?” She looked at you, eyes surprised.
“Yeah?”
“Are you happy?” You asked and she was taken aback at how genuine you sounded. She paused, eyes flicking over to where Jonathan’s car was parked, engine idling as he waited for her.
She nodded, resolute. “Yeah, I am,” she answered quietly and confidently.
You nodded too, surprised at how it warmed you to hear that. You never wished ill on the girl, you just didn’t like how she broke your best friend, leaving you to put him back together again, piece by piece.
“I’m glad Steve’s got you, you know,” she called back before you could start to walk away again and her words made your heart stumble. You swallowed, looking at her with parted lips. “He’s lucky to have you.”
And well, wasn’t that a statement to behold?
When you finally clambered into Steve’s car, bringing the chill and some stray leaves from the outside, Steve was frowning softly, concerned by your lateness.
He looked at your flushed cheeks, pink nose and glassy eyes from the sharp wind and cranked up the heat, pointing his vents to your side too.
“Where’ve you been?” He asked, voice worried, “I was gonna call in the kids, start a search party.”
You laughed, a little strained after the conversation you had, rubbing your hands together for warmth and you shrugged, noncommittal.
“I was uh, just catching up with a friend.”
Can I go where you go?
When Steve got a job after graduation at Scoops Ahoy, it was supposed to mean free ice cream and catching a late showing at the cinema after his shifts.
It brought you Robin Buckley, Steve in a sailors hat, a new flavour of ice cream every month and fucking Russians.
You thought dimensions and demogorgons were about as much as you could handle but Dustin came back from camp with a new gadget he’d built, some kind of high tech radio that looked like it was held together with duct tape and paper clips but the thing actually worked.
It worked well enough to pick up secret codes from underground labs, translated by Robin and well, fuck. Suddenly you were trapped in an elevator that wasn’t actually supposed to be an elevator and Erica Sinclair was going to miss her Uncle Jack’s party.
You knew Steve wasn’t happy with you, you could tell by the way his jaw was set, the way that he looked at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention, and his lips twisted and his gaze dropped when you tried to catch his gaze.
It made the air in the elevator crackle and buzz, tension on top of tension as you moved around each other, looking for a way out, hardly touching, hardly speaking. Robin twisted her lips, sympathetic, when she caught your gaze, your face flushed with annoyance.
He’d told you not to come.
Not out of meanness, or because you had fallen out, simply because he didn’t want you in harm's way. You’d ended up yelling at each other, a hundred feet below the mall and trapped in a metal box because why did it matter when Robin and the kids were stuck there too?
Steve, of course, cared that he had another friend, a thirteen year old and a ten year old to keep safe and he had every intention of doing so. But he couldn’t help but feel sick, his stomach rolling, at the thought of you being put in a dangerous situation.
You’d told him that he was being stupid, that you weren’t leaving him. You thought you’d seen all the dangers Hawkins had to offer, you could handle yourself, you could help him.
His worst fears came true when you all got split up, Dustin and Erica hopefully somewhere above you all, on their way for help, for something, anything.
But then a man came, tall and dressed in uniform, badges adorning his chest, and he took one look at the way Steve stood in front of you when he entered and swung for the side of his head.
The boy fell backwards, dazed, groaning at the shock and pain of it all before pulling himself off of the floor, body slow and sluggish. He lifted his head in time to see the same man gripping you by the back of your neck, hair fisted painfully in his grasp as he pulled you out of the room. Robin was yelling, swearing as she tried to get a grip on you, her hand wrapped around your ankle from where she was on the floor but you were pulled from her easily, a swift kick sent to her stomach for the audacity of her trying.
Steve felt his heart leave his chest, plummeting to his stomach, his blood running cold and everything around him slowed down. His vision was fuzzy but he could see the panic on your face, lips parted in a gasp as you tried to get to grips with what was happening.
Russians. A lab. Under Starcourt Mall.
He couldn’t move fast enough and he wanted to yell out, he wanted to run. But it was like being trapped in a bad dream, body damp, sheets tangled around his limbs as he tried his best to scream, to move, but nothing fucking happened.
The door slammed shut before the ringing in his ears could stop and he could taste blood in his tongue, metallic and horribly warm. He made his fists bleed from pounding on the door, knuckles cracked and bruised, voice wrecked from yelling your name.
He only stopped when the man came back, pulled him from Robin's side and threw more hits to his face, his body. His skin was littered with angry bruises, almost black, skipping the shades of lavender and pink, turning inky within minutes.
Between each punch, Steve spat out blood and asked where you were, groaning as he spoke. He was ignored, time and time again, until he lost it completely, tried to lash out, fists swinging, legs thrashing and he wasn’t sure if he was crying, or it was just blood dripping down his face but he wanted to sob, desperate for you.
He was thrown to a chair, tied back to back with Robin as some guy in a white coat threatened him with surgical equipment that looked like it didn’t belong in a hospital and when his eyes fell shut with the weight of his injuries, he wondered if he’d ever see his best friend again.
You were finally gathered up in what could’ve been hours later, maybe one, maybe five. A guard tugged at your wrists, taped together and red raw from where you’d tried to pull them apart and suddenly you were pushed through the same door they’d taken you from, thrown at Steve’s feet and the yelling continued.
Who did you work for, who did you work for, who did you work for?
It didn’t end until people were dead and Starcourt Mall was on fire.
Alarms had gone off, Dustin rushing in with an electric cattle prod of all things, weidling it like battleaxe and telling you all you had to run. You weren’t sure who was supporting who as you all tumbled back to the surface, dripping blood and tears onto the mall floor as Steve gripped your hand with a fierceness you’d never experienced from him before.
But then there were guns, El broken but still fighting, the rest of your friends, concern and confusion written on their faces ‘cause when you had all been fighting Russian Soviets, they’d been fighting Billy, the evil inside of him turning him into something different from the boy you’d seen in the school halls.
You’d held Max when he fell, body bloodied and ripped open, eyes glassy like he’d known what was coming. You left the mall that night with a new fear of loud noises, of fireworks that cracked and snapped in the sky. You knew what burning flesh smelled like, you knew that there was more to be said about monsters, more danger in the world than just the creatures that lurked in the cracks of the earth.
You knew that evil could come in the shape of a man, a familiar face, behind a uniform, a doctor's white lab coat.
You were tired, beaten, a little bloodied and bruised and your throat was raw after you’d screamed for Steve, fists beating on the door as you went ignored. You heard him from behind the steel walls, his voice as wrecked and panicked as your own and you sobbed when you heard his yells turn to groans, sickening wet thumps of bone hitting bone, breaking up the sound of him calling out your name.
You sat beside him in the ambulance, hands still clutching each other tightly, fear of being torn apart again ripping through you both. The medic wanted to take him to hospital, to make sure his cheekbone wasn’t shattered, that you both weren’t suffering from shock or concussion but Steve refused, just wanting to go fucking home.
The sky was angry, red and crying, plumes of black and crimson smoke billowing from the broken building and you didn’t know what to do. People were dead and the whole world seemed to be burning.
But Steve took you by the hand, pulled you to his side as you made sure everyone was okay, as well as they could be considering the circumstances and the boy stood a little numb as he watched you drop to your knees and fold Max into a hug, tears streaking through the blood and dirt on your cheeks when you pressed a kiss to El’s forehead.
Everyone was a little broken, barely standing, barely breathing and it didn’t seem difficult to continue the lie to your parents, calling them from a pay phone to say that you were okay, you had seen the news but it was fine, you had been at Steve’s the whole time, you’d be home in the morning.
You let Jonathan bundle you both into the back of his car, one of his old jackets thrown around your shoulders as Nancy sat in the front, Steve beside you, shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh. He dropped you both at Steve’s front door, little to be said between the hour of you as shock and tiredness tugged at your bodies, your heads. Hands were pressed to shoulders, squeezing softly, telling each other everything you all needed to say but couldn’t - not then, not just yet.
The Harrington house was empty, as expected and the rooms felt darker and colder than they had before, empty and too big, your harsh breaths rattling too loudly and you could feel a panic building inside you, clawing at your chest.
It grew when you looked at Steve’s face, dried blood and dark bruises making him look like he was about to fall apart and when you squeezed your eyes closed, you could hear the way he yelled your name, raw and broken.
A sob bubbled from your throat, spilling from your lips and you’d barely taken a breath before Steve was in front of you, arms pulling you into him, a hand around your neck, foreheads pressed together. It was supposed to ground you - and it did, in a way - but the cries still came, stuttered and broken, the heavy kind of sobs that made your body heave with the exertion of it all.
Steve held you through it, both of you swaying unsteady on your feet in the middle of his hall, shoes streaking dirt across Mrs. Harrington’s white tiles. Neither of you could ask the other if they were okay, ‘cause the answer was obvious but when your tears finally stopped, your face wet and your head sore, the boy took you by the hand and led you up the stairs.
He walked past his bedroom door, the little slice of heaven you most wanted at that moment in time, the only place in the large house that truly felt like home to you both. It was a surprise when he nudged open the door to the main bathroom, rarely used due to all the ensuites that were accessed through bedrooms but the large corner tub there suddenly looked like a gift from above.
You felt like a spare part when Steve let go of you long enough to turn the taps, filling the bath with hot water and a mixture of his mother’s expensive soaps and bath milks, sweet smelling bubbles and steam filling the room.
You found a first aid kit underneath the sink, pushed to the back of the cupboard, unused and when you motioned to the boy to sit on the closed toilet seat, he did without arguing. He spread his legs for you without you needing to ask, standing between his knees with a bottle of antiseptic and some cotton balls, more tears slipping down your cheeks as you mumbled out apologies, dabbing the stinging liquid into his skin.
Steve simply held onto your legs, eyes closed and his hands wrapped around the back of your knees, his thumbs stroking over the sensitive skin there as he whispered back, telling you it was okay, it’s fine, I'm fine sweetheart.
The cuts on his face didn’t seem as angry, as severe, when you wiped away the blood that crusted around them but the dark bruises seemed mean and vicious against the pale cast of his skin, shock seeping out all the colour from his cheeks.
He let you press a kiss to his forehead, clutching at the sides of his head, fingers buried in his damp, messy hair and the push of your lips was fierce, conveying everything you wanted to say but couldn’t, because fuck, you didn’t know how to tell your best friend that you think you were falling in love with him. Because how else could the thought of losing someone hurt so fucking much?
Steve left you alone to bathe, skin stinging as you stripped down to your underwear, your body and bones lazy as you pulled at your jeans and shirt. You gave up when you got down to your underwear, cotton pants and lacy bralette mismatching in a clash of cherry print and forest green and they both stuck to your skin as you slid into the hot water.
You drew your knees to your chest, eyes closed and head pressed there as you let the heat nip at you, cuts and scrapes protesting but it was good to feel something when your head felt numb, your chest hollow. You weren’t sure how long you sat there for but you could've sworn someone was calling your name, a knock on the door echoing on the tiles and your mouth felt too fuzzy to answer.
Steve could only hear the slow, steady drip of the tap and panic rose in his chest when you didn’t answer him and he had thoughts of you unconscious and slipping beneath the bubbles.
So he knocked once more, heart racing before he turned the handle and pushed at the door a little, calling out your name.
He heard the water splash at the sides of the tub, movement at least. But then he heard you sniff, the noise turning to soft sobs and it gripped at his heart, crushed it a little and before he knew it, he was in the bathroom, bare feet on the tiles and staring down at you, tucked into the smallest ball you could amongst the bubbles.
Neither of you spoke as Steve pulled off the shirt and cotton sweats he’d changed into, his own eyes glassey as he left his boxers on, stepping into the water with you, sitting down in the space behind you.
It felt like the most natural thing in the world when he spread his legs and pulled you into them, your back to his bare chest as he wrapped his arms around your knees too, holding you to him. He let you cry like that, head bent over yours, the two of you curled into the water together, steam licking at your skin. You think you felt a tear drop from his eye, warm as it slid through your hair and onto your cheek and the feel of it made you search for his hand, scrambling desperately under the hot water and foam so you could link your fingers through his.
Your grip on each other was as tight as it was when he’d pulled you to your feet after Dustin saved you from pliers and scalpels, the same way it had been when a six year old Steve had helped you up from the playground, knees scraped and front tooth missing after falling from the monkey bars. It was the same touch you granted him when you were twelve and he had to go to the emergency room, his arm broken after falling off of his bike. You’d begged to ride in the ambulance with him and his mom, his ink stained fingers reaching for you, not Mrs. Harrington.
When you had no tears left to give and the water was turning lukewarm, Steve turned the tap again, let the hot water fill the room back up with steam and soothe your tired bodies. He grabbed a sponge, tapped at your knee until you turned to him, face to face and unbelievably vulnerable.
But you let him smooth the sponge over the bare skin that he could see, up your arms, wiping away the soot from the fire, the stubborn dried blood that didn’t want to leave. He squeezed warm water over your chest, looking at your eyes and definitely not your bra, the pretty, green lace turning darker against your skin.
He pressed a kiss to your hair when you let your head fall into him, too tired to sit up and when you couldn’t hear the far away whine of sirens in the distance anymore, he helped you stand, the water that was light pink with blood swirling down the drain. He wrapped you both in towels, murmuring the whole time that you were okay, he had you, it was gonna be fine.
You pulled your favourite shirt from underneath his pillow, tugging it on and falling into his bed, the smell of Steve and home surrounding you in the same way that the sheets did, soft and comforting. The boy clambered in beside you, body stiff and pain settling in his bones but you glued yourself to his side, hands intertwined and pressed between your chests and you couldn’t close your eyes until Steve leaned into you, breath warm and smelling of mint as he pressed his lips to your ear as he told you:
“Remember when I promised you that I’d protect you from everything bad?”
You nodded, remembering that cherry flavoured popsicle and the way Steve’s pool looked so much bigger and deeper back then.
“We were eight, Steve.”
He hummed in agreement, forehead rubbing fond against your own and you revelled in the fact that you both smelled like the same cotton and lemongrass body wash.
“We were,” he agreed, voice a soft whisper, cracking a little from the yelling that had ripped his throat apart. “But the promise still stands, sweetheart.”
You opened your eyes to look at them and he looked a little fuzzy as you teared up. But Steve shook his head gently, hand tightening around your smaller one.
“No more tears, please babe,” he sniffed too, as if the entire night suddenly hit him, “I got you now, yeah? I’m never gonna let anythin’ happen to you, promise.”
You slept then, a little broken and fitful, but every time you shifted in your sleep, the boy followed, bodies traversing across the mattress and between the sheets. When you woke in the morning, you had your head on Steve’s chest, a leg thrown over his own, your thigh hitched high over his and his arms were a vice grip around you, his face pressed to the top of your head.
The sheets were on the floor, a pillow by the door as if it had been kicked and the sun was shining through the gap in the curtain, bright and warm and mocking.
The world felt a little different after that night, and so did your friendship with Steve Harrington.
I've loved you three summers now, honey, but I want 'em all.
Working at Family Video with both Robin and Steve meant that you got to spend a lot more time with your friends. It also meant that Robin was more privy to watching how you and Steve interacted with each other and it had the girl taking notes on your relationship with the boy like her new favourite science experiment.
“Look, I’m just saying, he’s not really dated since Starcourt and the boy lost it over you that night.”
You rolled your eyes, still putting away the videos that were stacked in your arms as Robin followed you up and down the aisles. The store was quiet, a Tuesday afternoon giving you little to do but you’d graduated after you fought a monster and survived the soviets, so applying for colleges wasn’t all that high on your to do list.
Your parents had taken that news better than Steve’s, both couples perplexed at their kids' choices to stay in Hawkins and work for the summer but at least your Dad had threatened bodily harm against you when you’d told him.
You eyed Steve who was on the other end of the store, leaning lazy against the counter as he ticked off the delivery list. He looked a little older, like you did, but the stubble on his jaw and the broadness of his shoulders made your lips part every time you chanced a look.
He was still Steve, but he was a little taller, a little stronger. He was still late night drives and sneaking through your window, mixtapes on your birthday and cherry popsicles in his backyard during the summer. Maybe he flirted a little more with you, comments suggestive and compliments coming easier but you tried not to think about it. When you did, late at night and alone in bed, it made your head spin, your lips part, your eyes close.
You sighed, turning to Robin to tell her with an exasperated whisper, “we’ve been best friends since pre-k, of course he was upset that I was dragged away by a fucking Russian Soviet, Robin.”
She rolled her eyes at you, stumbling over her own foot as she tried to keep up. Steve glanced up at you both at the noise, brows furrowed as you both froze, eyes a little wide and you waved, hands raised awkwardly in unison.
“What’re you both doing?” He called out, suspicion lacing his voice and you felt heat travel from your chest to your cheeks.
“Nothing,” Robin called out at the same time you told him you were fixing the horror section.
Your voices piled over each other and you wanted to groan, because Robin couldn’t lie to save herself and now you both looked like idiots. But Steve just smiled, fond, and turned back to his stack of papers.
“I'm telling you,” Robin continued, voice a little lower now, “Steve likes you, like, he likes you, likes you. Why can’t you see that?”
You stopped and turned at her last words, truly taken aback at how sincere she sounded, how confused she seemed.
‘Cause Steve was still Steve and you were still you and nothing in the world could really change that. Steve had promised you that he’d always be your best friend, and at nineteen, that still seemed like a pretty sweet deal.
You shrugged, pushing the last copy of Nightmare On Elm Street onto the shelf and you crossed your arms over your chest, suddenly feeling far too exposed at her interrogation.
“It’s not like that,” you told her, whispering still, “it’s never been like that with Steve.”
She huffed, swiping a finger along the row of videos and blowing away the dust she’d collected. Robin turned, an eyebrow raised. “Would you want it to be like that? ‘Cause seriously, dude, I still can’t believe that, in like, sixteen years of friendship, you’ve never even kissed once.”
You shrugged again, holding back on telling the girl that sometimes you thought the same.
When you were fourteen, you thought that Steve was going to be your first kiss. Looking back, you weren’t sure why, you just did. Maybe it was a feeling, maybe it was hope, maybe it was just inevitable.
‘Cause you grew up beside the boy and never once did he feel like a brother, and that had to mean something, right? He held your hand when you watched scary movies, when you crossed the road on Main Street, when it was rush hour, just like your parents had told you to when you were seven. He never dropped your hand, he never kicked you from his side of the bed when the movies you watched together became too much.
You went through middle school and high school still the same, joined at the hip, still sharing secrets, still holding hands when things got too hard.
But then one summer, Hayley Collins had a birthday party and you’d been sick, too ill to attend but Steve had still stood underneath your bedroom window, features twisted with conflict as you told him it was fine, he could go without you. You remember telling him to have fun, and to bring you back some candy.
He did. He brought you back fistfuls of sweet stuff, bags of M&M’s and pop rocks but you didn’t expect him to bring his lips to your ear and tell you a secret you never expected.
Steve had had his first kiss. A game of spin the bottle in Hayley’s basement with her cousin who was from out of town. A girl a year older, a girl who had pretty blonde curls and a reason to wear a real bra.
You remembered the feeling when your heart sank and the pop rocks stopped fizzing on your tongue. You wondered why the sugar tasted bitter, why your eyes were suddenly pricking with hot tears and when the boy asked if you were okay, a grin slipping from his lips, you lied and told him that you still felt sick.
You turned to Robin, a fake smile pulling at your lips as you tried to act casual, as if her words weren’t kickstarting a feeling in your chest that you had been trying so hard to ignore for the last five years.
You furrowed your brow, turned to the cart that was still full of videos no thanks to your friend, and picked up another pile. You stacked them until they reached your chin, until they gave you a reason to walk to the other side of the stands and take a deep breath.
“I haven’t really thought about it,” you lied, and it felt heavy on your tongue, tasting too sweet and sinful. Because of course you had. “It’s not something that’s crossed my mind.”
Robin saw right through you and you could tell by the way her brows rose and she hid her smile behind a press of her lips.
“Sure,” she said, voice too light. “Humour me then. What do you think would happen if you did let it cross your mind?”
You stared at her, mouth agape, because what the fuck was the girl getting at.
She grabbed some of the videos you were holding, The Exorcist close to slipping from its slot underneath your chin and she started stacking them beside you, completely out of alphabetical order, but that was a problem for another day.
“Just listen,” she said and you hated how she sounded excited. “What do you think would happen if you asked Steve to kiss you?”
She dropped a box, cursing when the corner of it hit her toe but she bounced back up, bright eyes still brimming with all the thoughts that were swirling round her head at once.
“Cause you know he would, right? Like the poor guy can’t say no to you, he’s never been able to.”
You made a sound of protest, heart hammering in your chest because Steve was still right there, fingers running though his hair, pen between his lips and so completely fucking oblivious.
But Robin suddenly stopped and spun to face you. She wrapped a hand around your wrist, soft and warm and you could tell she was choosing her words carefully before she said them, a sure fire way to tell that the girl was being serious.
“There’s a reason that none of his girlfriends have stuck around, babe,” Robin murmured, sincerity lacing every word. “It’s ‘cause he always picks you, every time.”
—————
It had been a week since Robin had cornered you at work, whispering to you about Steve and kissing and god, you couldn’t stop thinking about it.
You thought about it when he gave you a ride home after work, sun setting, the day turning pink and casting indigo shadows over his face, the line of his jaw, the curve of his mouth.
You thought about it when he pushed himself into you during Saturday morning shifts, his body lazy as he leant against you, his chest to your back and his head on your shoulder. It felt softer and intimate than when he’d done it before, your mind running wild with the idea that if you turned around and kissed him, right there in the middle of Family Video, he might kiss you back.
You thought about it when you were lying by his pool, his parents gone, the kids and Dustin’s new friend Eddie starting water fights on the lawn. You’d watch the way Steve watched you, jealous eyes and lips pouted when Eddie soaked you with a water balloon, skin damp, cheeks flushed and eyes bright. You watched how he softened and lit up again, your attention on him when you shook your wet hair over his bare chest and you couldn’t help but notice how his gaze followed the movements you made when you bent to slide your shorts back up your legs.
So maybe it was for those reasons that you turned to him one Friday night, when it was just the two of you out in his backyard, and asked him why he’d never kissed you.
It could’ve been the joint you’d been sharing making you feel braver, or maybe the shadows that you were hiding in, the spaces that the pool lights didn’t quite reach.
Maybe it was the way Steve had been looking at you each time you took the joint from his lips and put it between your own. Hair a little messy, eyes hooded, jaw slack.
Maybe it was because of all of it. Maybe it was because you were nineteen and growing impatient. Maybe it was sixteen years of build up. Of wondering, wanting, waiting.
The air smelled the same way it did when you were eight, chlorine and cedar from the trees, that afternoon's sunscreen mixing with weed and smoke. Your tongue was stained red from the popsicle you’d had, Steve’s blue and there were new freckles on both of your faces, noses a little pink from lying out in the sun all day.
And when the afternoon faded into evening and the sky was lilac, Steve produced a joint with a grin, a wiggle of his brows and suddenly you were lying on the deck together, the pool filter trickling in the background and laughing soft as you blew smoke into the night.
There was a buzz of insects from the forest that stood behind the house, the faint hum of someone’s music that played from a couple of yards over and you felt the warmth radiate from the boy from where he lay beside you.
Your bare feet pointed to opposite ends of the pool, one of yours dipped into the water and your heads were touching, cheek to cheek. If you turned to look at him, you knew your lips could slip over his easily and the thought of it made your body fizz.
He had just plucked the joint from your mouth, thumb grazing clumsy over your top lip, fitting pretty into the dip of your Cupid’s bow when you tilted your head, cheek resting on the patio, the slabs still warm from the afternoon sun.
“Hey, Harrington,” you sounded quiet and lazy, like you didn’t have a care in the world. But god, your heart was in your throat, pulsing like a warning. “You ever thought ‘bout kissing me?”
If Steve was shocked, he didn’t show it, not really. His eyes widened slightly, joint hanging slack from his lips and he stubbed it out on the concrete before swallowing, hard.
He turned to you, noses almost brushing and you watched the way his gaze settled on your lips.
“Why d’you ask?” His voice was a hush, warm and rough.
You shrugged, boldness faltering because he hadn’t answered your question but holy shit, he was still looking at your mouth, the way your tongue snuck out to wet your bottom lip before you spoke.
“Just something Robin said,” you told him, nose scrunched.
Your words made his lips part, nodding in understanding because of course Robin was involved and the girl had been at him too, hounding him in the stockroom at work, calling him out on his obvious crush on your over old, dusty videos.
But all the boy could say was, “oh.”
And then there was silence, for a second, maybe two. It felt like minutes, like an hour, like the sky was suddenly crashing down on you, as if lavender clouds and the stars were going to bury you were you lay but then-
“I have,” Steve said, quietly sure. You looked over at him as he blew out a breath, “course I’ve thought about it. ‘Bout kissing you.”
“Oh,” it was your turn to keep silent, his admission washing over you like a tsunami sized wave, one that you weren’t sure you’d be able to keep your head above.
You sat up suddenly, shocking Steve and he leaned up onto his elbows with wide eyes, watching as you turned to face him, legs crossed and knees knocking into his thighs.
“Why haven’t we?” You asked, bemusement colouring your tone and you couldn’t help but press your hand to his where it lay on the deck. Your fingers brushed over his, a new kind of touch. “Why haven’t we ever kissed?”
You wondered if he could hear your heartbeat, if it was rattling against your ribs as loud as it seemed to be. You held your breath as Steve sat up too, mirroring your pose and crossing his legs until you were knee to knee and looking like a couple of innocent kids again.
He shrugged, blowing out another breath and he tugged a hand through the front of his hair, making it stand on end. He looked a little wild, like you short circuited him, like you were half way to ruining him.
The boy’s voice cracked a little when he tried to answer and you wondered if this was okay, if you should’ve asked but then Steve was speaking, his thumb drawing absentminded circles over your bare knee.
“I’m not really sure,” he said and he spoke soft and quiet, like he was telling you a secret. “I suppose I just didn’t wanna lose my best friend.”
It was the answer you expected. Best friend first, the prospect of a girl to kiss in the background of his mind. You should’ve been happy, you should’ve felt loved, but the idea of never having Steve in the way you realised you wanted him was becoming more crushing by the day.
“Or maybe,” he suddenly continued, “I guess… I guess I didn’t realise I was allowed to.”
Your lips parted at that, a small bomb dropped in the middle of the Harrington’s backyard. You waited for the pool to empty, for the small wave to hit your back, for the sky to light up but nothing came and Steve was watching you, waiting.
“You’re allowed to,” you whispered and oh my god, you didn’t feel high enough for this, but you continued, tummy dropping and skin electric. “You’ve always been allowed to.”
You heard Steve’s breath hitch and it only felt natural when his hand came up to cup the back of your neck, thumb pressed to the spot behind your ear and god, he was leaning in and so were you.
“I just don’t know if we should,” he was telling you but he was still moving into you and his hand never fell away from your face.
“It’s just a kiss,” you told him, voice shot, lips falling apart and you could smell his aftershave, the leftover chlorine that stuck to his skin and he was summer, he was cherry and smoke and god, he was forbidden, he was yours. “Friends can kiss, doesn’t have to mean anything.”
“It’s really just curiosity, right?”
His nose was bumping against yours, both of your eyes fluttering closed at the feel of the other's breath falling across your lips and you wondered if he’d taste like his popsicle, blue raspberry, sugar and fizz.
You nodded at his question, too gone to speak and the movement made your top lip brush against his. Sparks against your skin, electric, dangerous and it made you sigh.
“Steve?” You whispered, eyes squeezed shut like you were seven again and making a wish beside your birthday cake, candles making your skin glow.
He hummed, thumb still pushing against that spot on your neck, “yeah sweetheart?”
“Will you kiss me?”
And fuck, maybe Robin was right because the boy didn’t say no. In fact, Steve didn’t say anything, he just moved into you until your nose was pressed into his cheek and his lips were plush against yours and oh my god you were kissing your best friend.
He still tasted like raspberry, like you thought he would. Like summer and promises and pool days and a little smoke and Steve.
It was a slow push of his lips to your own, mouths slanting over each other’s, soft and languid like you both knew this was your only chance. You thought you heard him moan, a soft, low noise that made your chest hurt and when the kiss lingered, you brought your hands to his cheeks, fingers splayed over his jaw as you tugged him a little closer, greedy.
And when his tongue licked at the curve of your bottom lip, his hand travelled to tilt at your chin, asking you to open for him, you did, no questions asked. You sighed, blissed out, when his tongue slid over yours, a hand falling to fist in his t-shirt, soft cotton crumpled in your hand because you felt like you were going to float away.
Then Steve was pulling back, chest heaving, forehead pressed to yours and eyes still slammed shut as he gave you another secret, pressed to the corner of your mouth, your jaw, the curve of your neck.
“I always thought you were gonna be my first kiss,” he said it like a confession, like something holy. “M’sorry you weren’t.”
And then he was back on you, lips melted between your own and you knew that the pretty noises that you pulled from him would play like a record in your dreams for months on end. Steve was grasping at your hip, the material of your dress bunched under his hand, making the cotton hitch higher up your thighs.
You were in his lap, wide hands on your sides, guiding you as you kissed him, lovesick, eyes closed, body buzzing and you fell across his knees, thighs shifting apart to cage him underneath you and oh my god.
Fuck.
You sat a little higher than him, knees planted on the deck and his head was tilted back to kiss you as you crowded him. One hand was on your jaw, thumb rubbing against your cheek as he kissed you deeper now, a little dirty and when he pulled a small moan from you, his hand clasped at the back of your thigh, skin on skin.
You could feel him hard underneath you and it made your head feel fuzzy, your body pleading with you to drag yourself along the length of him, hips rolling, chest heaving.
When you pulled back, panting, the reflections of the pool were bouncing off your faces, ripples of light dancing across the boy's features, hitting his eyes and turning them caramel. You felt golden when he touched you, skin lit up, the air around you both crackling like a storm was coming.
Maybe it was still the weed, maybe it was a new found courage, maybe it was just teenage hormones and the thought of seeing each other naked for the first time since you were both four, but when Steve asked if he could take you inside, you didn’t hesitate to say yes.
It felt different in his bedroom when you both tumbled in, colliding with the dresser as you kissed each other like you meant it, like you’d never do it again. The room felt smaller, darker, softer, more intimate than it had ever been for you and suddenly you felt like a girl at the end of date.
Steve touched you like you were more than just his best friend and it made your stomach roll, your thighs rub together and you couldn’t quite get over the way his hand spanned the width of your cheek, fingertips grazing your hairline whilst his thumb managed to pull at your bottom lip, eager for more of you.
It all got a little wild after that, loose change and bottles of aftershave cologne clattering off of the drawers, falling to the floor as Steve picked you up and slammed you on top of it, legs spreading for him to fit in between. Hands roamed up your thighs, pushing at the soft skin there until he hitched a knee up and over his hip, pressing himself into you.
Your dress came off first, his shirt following, a mix of colours on the carpet and he pressed his lips to the skin he uncovered, mouth over lavender lace and delicate straps.
It felt desperate, you felt desperate. And when he sucked a bruise into the column of your throat, you keened, high and needy. It made the boy groan, mouth vibrating against your chest as he kissed over the lace triangles covering you, his gaze flicking up to watch you nod at him before he was pushing one aside, tongue smoothing over a nipple.
It made you grab at his hair, fingers delving deep, tugging in appreciation and you were prepared for the sound it pulled from him, low in the back of his throat and it made his eyes flutter shut.
“Sweetheart,” Steve huffed out, hands skimming up and down your sides as he pressed his forehead to yours, “I’m gonna come in my pants if you keep that up.”
He sounded wild, unravelled and sharp around the edges. It made you feel full of power, pretty lips and lace and soft skin, and you pressed the softest kiss to Steve’s mouth, his breath coming in harsh pants and before you could ask, you were being manhandled again, legs around his waist and his hands on your ass.
He sat you both on the bed like that, spread out pretty on top of him, knees pushed into the mattress as you pulled at his belt, holding yourself up as he shuffled out of his jeans. He sucked tiny bruises on your collar bones as your bra was peeled off, nothing but your underwear separating you both and you felt his hands drag down your back, a touch that was so affectionate and soft that it took your breath away.
Then night seemed slower after that, like time paused for you both, just for you to remember every touch. Like the world stopped spinning on its axis just for you two, just so you would both remember the way the other felt, ‘cause fuck, you had a feeling this wouldn’t happen again.
“We don’t have to go any further,” Steve gasped, lips barely leaving yours as pushed and pulled at your hips, helping you rock over him, body rolling across his lap. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
But you were ready to climb him, your hands grabbing at his hair to tug him back to you, kisses swallowing his words and telling the boy that you wanted exactly the opposite.
It was strange how natural it felt, to tug the length of him out of his boxers, the feel of him hot and hard in your hand. You shuffled in Steve’s lap as he palmed you over the lace of your underwear, breath uneven. It didn’t take long for him to tug them down your legs as he slid on a condom, your foot kicking purple lace to his bedroom floor and you suddenly felt like you were underwater; body moving lazy and slow as you lifted yourself onto your knees, Steve’s hands strong and reassuring as you took him in your hand and sunk down onto him.
Neither of you moved, bodies tangled and still as you fit perfectly in his lap, arms wrapped around each other as you panted heavy into parted lips. Steve whispered your name, like a prayer, soft and broken before he pushed his lips to yours, head tilted into you so he could catch your lips deep and slow.
He grunted in surprise when you tightened around him, body clenching on his at the touch of his tongue across your bottom lip and you whimpered, hips beginning to wiggle. This was more than you’d felt before, more than wandering hands in back seats, more than a quick and fast hook-up in a party bathroom, more than fingers under skirts in your bedroom when your parents were asleep across the hall.
“Can I move?” You ask, quiet, your hands grappling desperately at Steve’s shoulders palming over the muscles there. “I need to move, Steve, please.” If you were begging, you didn’t care, because you felt so full, so tight around him and you couldn’t help but admire the way the boy looked underneath you.
But Steve didn’t have you waiting long, any teasing long forgotten about ‘cause he felt like he was wound too tight and you felt like fucking heaven around him. You didn’t know your eyes were wet until his thumb smoothed over your cheekbone, breath stuttering and you both gasped and swore when you lifted yourself up, just to rock yourself back down.
He moaned your name so prettily, lips glossy from your kisses and his eyes were hooded, gaze set on you, jaw slack, hands roaming across the expanse of your back as he held you to him.
You moved over him with purpose, Steve answering with low groans and he pulled soft whimpers from you, your hand catching his face so you could look at him, gazes heavy and hot, pinned to each other. Your thumb found the curve of his bottom lip, tugging a little and Steve moaned when the pad of it slid over the edge of his teeth.
“Steve,” you gasped, hips moving messy and the boy grabbed at your ass, helping you ride him a little faster.
“That’s it, sweetheart, tell me, tell me what you want and I’ll give you it,” he pressed his lips to yours as he spoke, words slipping over your lips, your tongue and god, they tasted sweet. “I’ll give you anything.”
“More,” was all you could manage, breath hitching, eyes slamming shut ‘cause Steve’s hand dropped between you both, skin slick and he pressed his thumb over your clit; quick, hot circles that made stars flash behind your eyelids.
“Close?” Steve asked, voice rough and you nodded, moving a little wilder over him, the boy reciprocated, hands holding your hips still so he could thrust up hard into you until you were biting down on the muscle on his shoulder, thighs tensing, eyes tearing up.
Steve whispered your name when he came, arms tight around you, head buried in the crook of your neck, eyes squeezed shut, hoping and praying that he’d always remember the way you felt around him.
He kissed you one last time that night, bodies still naked and stretched out between his sheets and you didn’t say anything to each other as you caught your breaths, eyes wide on each other. There was a part of you that wished you could have the excuse of alcohol, too messy after some party to remember. You couldn’t blame the weed either, the half smoked joint still stubbed out in the backyard, hardly enough to do anything than let you both share a buzz.
In the morning, you pulled on your clothes, wrinkled on Steve’s bedroom floor, still smelling of smoke and the boy. You tiptoed around his room, searching for your underwear, your shoes, all while the boy lay on his bed, face down, hair mussed and the white sheets barely covering his waist.
You wish you had it in you to let yourself drop back down into bed with, to have the courage to press a kiss to the freckle on his right shoulder, smooth a soft hand down his spine. But the sun was coming in through the window and your lips were still swollen from your best friend’s kisses and everything was starting to taste like a mistake.
You didn’t know it, but Steve was awake as you left, eyes open and face pressed into the pillow that still smelled like your shampoo, heart beating wild in his chest but he didn’t move, didn’t call out to stop you. And well, that was that.
My heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue.
You didn’t talk about it.
A week passed and neither did Steve and before you knew it, you were a month down the line, the feel of your best friend's lips on your skin feeling like a fever dream and you didn’t know if you’d ever be able to forget the feel of him moving against you, inside you.
It hurt to look at him, for a while. It got worse before it got better, stilted conversations and awkward eye contact, the taste of regret in both of your tongues and all the things you wanted to say to each other were left unsaid.
But it was fine.
Steve asked you round for a movie one Friday, videos stacked on the coffee table in his living room, your favourite sweater of his lying out on the arm of the sofa along with red vines and the good kinda popcorn.
You didn’t push yourself into his side like you normally would and you didn’t know if that disappointed him or not, but when he dropped you off home later that night, the sky was a dark, rosy pink, the lingering smell of rain in the air and he smacked a messy kiss to your cheek before you climbed out of his car.
It was fine. Until it wasn’t.
Steve started dating again, one girl, two girls, three girls. Lucy on Saturday, Matthew David’s cousin Paula the next Friday, Cindy from last year's cheer squad the week after.
You didn’t ask about it and he didn’t tell you, just poking an affectionate finger to the apple of your cheek when he told you he’d see you the next day. You were his best friend, again, still, only.
It was fine until one Friday shift, when you disappeared into the back room a little earlier than the store closed. You came back out in a new dress, short and pretty, with blush on your cheeks and a gloss on your lips. Robin had wolf whistled, Steve had frowned.
“Where are you going?”
His tone of voice cut you in half, accusatory and a little shocked. Steve leaned over the counter, a finger picking delicately at a lock of hair that you’d spent too long trying to get to sit nicely.
“A date,” you told him, voice soft, gaze lowered as you tried to cram lip gloss tubes and perfume bottles into your bag.
“With who?” Was the instantaneous response, that same tone of voice.
You saw Robin’s gaze flitting between the pair of you, not privy to the events that took place a month prior, but not for a lack of trying. The girl was perfectly aware that something happened. She just didn’t know what and neither your or Steve had told her anything.
“Nate Owens,” you told him and god, why was it so hard to meet his eye? “You know, he was on the team with you.”
Steve pulled his brows together, bewildered at your answer. “Yeah, I know him, why the fuck are you going on a date with Owens?”
You heard Robin’s sharp intake of breath and she watched as you squinted at the boy, annoyance on your features. Knowing what was to come, she grabbed the last of the returns and made her way to the other side of the empty store, leaving you two alone.
“What?” You huffed out, exasperated already. Your stomach was tumbling and you hated the way you didn’t know why. Maybe it was first date jitters, maybe it was the way Steve was looking at you, maybe it was because you knew you had absolutely no interest in dating anyone that wasn’t your bet fucking friend. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Steve grappled for something to say, stuttering over excuses until he tutted and grabbed the stapler, carelessly turning it over in his hands as he told you, “you’ve got nothing in common with him, like, at all.”
You scoffed, pulling at the hem of your dress and smoothing out imaginary creases, you were annoyed, something burning and twisting inside of you. “Sure Harrington, I forgot you choose all your dates based on compatibility and shared goals for the future.”
“He’s a douchebag,” Steve tried again, “he’s only after one thing.”
“Yeah, well, maybe I am too,” you said loftily and you didn’t look for Steve’s reaction, you didn’t want to. You moved from behind the counter, leaving a cloud of perfume in your wake and headed for the door. “Robs, I’ll call you later, ‘kay?”
Before the girl could answer, Steve was tailing you, moving across the store with that stupid stapler still in his hand and he called out your name, making you stop and turn.
“He’s just gonna hurt you,” the boy explained and you hated how his voice had turned a little softer. “You can do so much better than him.”
“Yeah?” You turned fully, chin raised and shoulders set as you locked eyes with Steve. “Who should I date then, Steve? Who’s good enough?”
The air felt electric, fully charged as the boy stared back, lips parting, chest barely moving as if he was holding his breath. If Robin was still there, you didn’t know, your mind only registering the way the boy was still silent in front of you.
“That’s what I thought,” you eventually muttered, hot tears threatening to prick at the corner of your eyes. “Don’t wait sixteen years to start taking an interest in my love life Harrington, I’ve got by just fine without your advice.”
You’d opened the door by the time Steve replied, voice hot and clipped with anger and something else, a tone you’d never heard him use with you before. “Yeah, well, don’t come fucking crying to me when he turns out to be a dick.”
You laughed humorlessly, your back turned to him as you faced the night outside, the cool air nipping at the heat on your cheeks. You wanted to go home, to chance a look at Robin and silently ask her to clamber into bed with you, if she’d let you cry onto her shoulder as you ate pizza and watched reruns of Charlie’s Angels.
There was also a part of you that wanted to turn to Steve, glassy eyed and confused, to ask why it suddenly felt like you were fighting for the first time since middle school.
But you didn’t.
You walked out into the night and let the door slam shut behind you.
If you’d hung around, you would’ve heard Robin slam down the copy of Stand By Me that she was holding, eyes a little angry and disappointed as she looked at the boy and said:
“You’re a fucking idiot.”
‘Yeah,’ Steve thought, ‘he knew he was.’
----------
You hated that Steve was right, you hated that Nate Owens was a pig, you hated that he did nothing but look at your chest over the dinner table, you hated that he tried to lean in for a kiss the minute you both got back into his car, you hated that he got pissy with you when you didn’t let him push his hand up your dress, you hated that he told you to put out or get out.
You hated that he left you on the side of the road, a little out of town, at a restaurant that you didn’t really know, dinner paid for with his daddy’s money.
You hated that when you finally found a payphone at the side of a dark gas station, you punched in Steve’s number. You hated that you started to cry when you heard his voice, you hated that he told you was coming to get you.
Steve found you easily despite your awful directions, and when he asked if you were okay, voice quiet and gentle, you choked out a little sob, feeling pathetic and Steve told you to stay put, that he would be there as fast as he could.
He definitely broke some laws to get to you, flashing through amber lights faster than he was supposed to and when he pulled into the station only twenty minutes later, his heart ached at the way you leaned against the brick wall, half in shadows with your arms wrapped around you, the slight wind picking at the hem of you dress, lifting it from you thighs.
Steve got out of the car before you could move, pushing yourself off of the wall and he hated that your eyes were glassy, that you seemed embarrassed. You let him tug one of his sweatshirts over your head, one he specifically grabbed for you before rushing out of his door, ‘cause he watched you leave work without a jacket and if he’d been in a better mood when you were going on your date - if you’d have been going on a date with him - he would’ve teased you about being cold later.
Steve opened the passenger door, waiting for you to fold yourself into the front of his car and when he got back in, the only light coming from the old neon sign that was flashing red, telling customers that the store was open.
He wrapped his hands around the steering wheel, squeezing it until his knuckles turned white and he glanced at you, expression almost unreadable.
“Did he hurt you?” he asked.
“No,” you shook your head, and it was true. You’d thrown an elbow into the Nate’s chest when he tried to push you too far, too fast, the sharp point of your arm catching him just below his throat and he’d turned on you, telling you to get the fuck out. “The only thing hurt is my pride, but I guess that’s on me, huh?”
Steve sighed at that, turning fully in his seat so he could face you, his hand coming up to press into your cheek, his thumb running gently under your eye, catching the tears there before they fell.
“Sweetheart-” Steve started, but you were overwhelmingly emotional, everything from the night and Nate and Steve suddenly becoming too much and god, you just wanted to yell with it.
“What? Is this the part where you say I told you so?” You tried to sound biting, but the words hitched in your throat, fresh tears springing to your eyes. “Why’re you even here Steve?”
You knew why.
“Cause you asked me,” he answered, simply and that was all there was to it, wasn’t there? “And I’m not gonna tell you shit, I’m… I’m sorry I acted like that early, I dunno what was wrong with me.”
You wanted to press further, you wanted to ask him if he truly didn’t know the reason he acted like an asshole. You wanted to ask if he was jealous, if he wanted you the way you wanted him, if he missed you, if he thought about you when he went on all these dates, if he wanted to kiss you again, if he thought about it all the time, the same way that you did.
But Steve was still talking, fingers slipping from your face to pick at a stand of hair, playing with the end of it absentmindedly. The car felt too small, too warm and too dark, and you were sure that the last time you were both this close, you’d been in Steve's bed, wrapped around him as he made you come.
“He didn’t deserve even an hour of your time,” he told you, brows knitted together in a frown. “And you deserve better than Nate fucking Owens, you’re too good for him,” he repeated his statement from earlier and it made you chest ache, your tummy tumble over because god, you wanted to be brave.
“Who’s good enough then, Steve?” You breathed it out, voice almost a whisper because you were so close to losing it, to grabbing the boy by his face and telling him how you felt, how’d fallen in love with him fuck knows how many years ago and you’d only recently let yourself believe it.
He started, wide eyed, lips parted and waiting, the same reaction he’d had back at Family Video. But you didn’t walk away this time, you let out a huff of laughter, no humour in it as you sat back in the seat and started out of the windscreen. The gas station was deserted, the night creeping into a new day, the clock ticking closer to midnight and the light was still flickering.
It painted you both crimson, eyes brighter than they should’ve been, cheeks rosy. You pushed a foot to the dash, dress slipping up your thigh and gathering in the crease of your leg, showing off way too much skin but you didn’t care.
“I grew up with all the other guys in our grade knowing that I was Steve Harrington’s best friend,” you told him, voice hushed and cracking, “all of them too scared to touch me ‘cause your stupid ten year old ass always threatened to beat them up.”
He was still staring, lip twitching as if he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to laugh or not because it was true. But then he watched a tear slip down your cheek and it caught the light, a flash of ruby before it got caught on your top lip and you licked it away.
“Then in high school, I was a challenge, ‘cause I was still Steve Harrington’s best fucking friend. Boy’s would either be terrified to talk to me or treat me like the best prize they could win. They thought I was off limits, some thought I was your girlfriend and god, Steve, fuck…”
You swallowed, hard, breath catching in your chest and the car was so silent, the boy watching, listening.
“I never thought that I wanted that, to be anything more than your friend. I didn’t,” you tried to sound convincing, but even to your own ears, your protests sounded weak. “But then you kissed me.”
You looked at him from under your lashes, hands twisted nervously in your lap, his sweater fisted between your fingers and you hated the way it smelled like him, like mint and cedar and smoke and suddenly, it was all too much.
“I know I asked you to,” you blurted out, eyes brimming with tears again, spilling over the line of your lashes and suddenly, you didn’t care about what you said anymore. “But fuck! Robin said that you never say no to me, that you’d do anything for me and god, I just wanted it once, I didn’t know it would go that far that night… I don’t regret it,” you rambled, words falling clumsily over the next and you chanced a look at him, his eyes full of shock but there was a softness behind it, familiar and fond. “I don’t regret it at all, I just-”
You sucked in a breath, let your head fall back onto the rest and let your eyes fall closed before you admitted another secret.
“I just can’t stop thinking about it.”
You kept your eyes closed as you kept talking, the words, the confessions, falling so much easier now that you’d started. The dark made you feel a little bolder, the silence of the boy encouraging you to just keep spilling your heart out, no interruptions.
“I thought that maybe you would feel the same, that you’d say something first, ‘cause you’ve always been braver but then you started dating that girl, then the other one. And maybe I was just stupid, maybe I was wrong,” you sighed, gazing to the side to catch Steve’s eye, a warmth blooming over your entire body, embarrassment, adrenaline and the feeling that you were throwing yourself off a cliff surging over you. “But there was a part of me that thought you’d maybe figure out you loved me too.”
You didn’t know what you expected, really. There was such a large part of you that still believed you were only going to ever be friends, that if Steve wanted more, he would've told you by now. That part told you you were imagining things, that sleeping together was nothing more than an experiment, a product of being high and bored with your best friend. It told you to ignore the way you thought he looked at you, the way that sometimes, you were so sure his touch lingered for longer than it needed to.
But then there was a voice in the back of your head, a shit, it sounded a little like Robin’s and it told you that the boy before you would do anything for you, anything you asked. And wasn’t that why he was here now? It told you that friends didn’t look at each other like that, that friends didn’t have to untangle themselves from each other's arms each morning, that friends didn’t kiss like you had both done.
Steve whispered your name then, a hand reaching out to catch yours.
“You know I love you,” he whispered, voice a little shocked, a little awed. He sounded broken too, like he didn’t know what he was supposed to say, like he was terrified of saying the wrong thing. “I’ve always loved you, you’re my best friend.”
Your heart fell.
“I- I don’t wanna lose you,” Steve said and he was rambling, falling over his words as his eyes searched your face for something he wasn’t going to find. The softness you’d held in your features was gone. “Babe, you’re my best friend, I can’t lose you-”
“Don’t call me that,” you choked out, your heart racing, your stomach twisting. You thought you might be sick. “Fuck, shit, take me home.”
You pulled your hand away from where the boy held it, your demand sounding harsh and too loud in the quiet of the car. You couldn’t look at him. The red light was still flashing, flickering and it suddenly felt like it was splitting your head in two, like it was pulsing to the same beat as your heart.
Steve said your name again, pleading, his hand on your arm, silently begging you to turn, to look at him.
“Can you let me explain? Please, god, I didn’t mean it like that, you have to understand-”
“Take me home, Steve, please.”
But he ignored you, tugging the keys out of the ignition and leaning forward, a hand tilting at your chin to try and a catch your gaze but your cheeks felt too hot and the burn at your eyes told you that you were going to start crying again and all you could think about was the list of boys who were too scared to make you theirs, too happy with a quick fuck in the back of their shitty cars and you never used to care because you were only ever happy with one boy.
You knew you should’ve let him talk, that you owed him his chance to speak but the burning sensation of embarrassment and rejection was creeping up your spine like poison and you hated it, you couldn’t stand it.
You panicked.
You pulled at the door handle, fingers clumsy as you pushed the door open, clambering out with Steve’s sweater still swamping your frame and you could hear the boy calling your name even after you slammed the door shut.
You made a start for the alleyway behind the gas station, somewhere the car couldn’t follow and by the time you made it a few streets over, you realised Steve wasn’t coming for you anyway.
You got halfway home before the rain started falling, a pathetic spit that misted into the air and soaked you through. It made your hair stick to your cheeks, Steve’s sweater damp and hanging heavy on your body and by the time you reached home, it didn’t smell like him anymore.
Good, you thought.
Because when you were eight years old, Steve Harrington was the first big to tell you he loved you and then he promised you three things:
One, he’d always be your best friend. Two, he’d always protect you from everything bad and scary. And three, he’d never break your heart.
It took almost twelve years, but shit, the boy finally broke one of them.
Take me out, and take me home.
It took Steve twelve years to break his promise to you, but only four days to fix it.
Which was impressive really, when he spent the first three days agonising over what to say to you. You’d been avoiding him like the plague, worse than the plague, quite frankly.
He expected you at work the next day, chest sore from holding his breath as he watched the door, eyes tired from staying up all night.
He’d stayed in that gas station parking lot for too long after you’d left, eyes wide as he watched you leave, disappearing behind the alleyway almost instantly.
Steve had slammed his hands on the dash, overwhelmed with everything you’d said, admitted to him, with glassy eyes and he fucking hated how he’d made your bottom lip tremble, your breath hitch and stutter as you tried not to cry.
He’d panicked.
And you’d left.
He’d driven home slowly, trying to catch sight of you on the sidewalks that led home, rolling down the streets that looked unfamiliar to see if you were there, trying to find shortcuts. When the rain had started, he’d cursed, no sight of you anywhere and by the time he’d pulled up outside your house, he was relieved to see your bedroom light on, a sign you’d made it home safely.
He wanted to knock on the door, to climb into your bedroom window and try to make you smile again, to stop you crying because he couldn’t fucking stand it when you cried, especially because of him.
But the window was shut, a rare sight and he knew it was a hint, a very obvious clue for him to stay the fuck away. He watched your light flicker off, the house bathed in darkness and he’d sat, pushing the heels of his hands to his eyes and cursing himself.
He should’ve told you, he shouldn’t have been so fucking scared.
You didn’t show up at work and when he asked Robin if she’d heard from you, the girl had told him that you were sick, had called in early and spoke to Keith.
“She’s put in a line for the entire week, actually, said it’s a bad bug,” Robin had told him knowingly. “Whatever you’ve done, Harrington, I suggest you fix it.”
Steve didn’t ask how Robin knew, didn’t press her for any more details, ‘cause he knew her too well, knew she wouldn’t tell him shit so he just slammed a video he was supposed to be rewinding on the desk, and sighed, heavy and tired.
“I know.”
You didn’t answer his calls. With your parents visiting family out of town, there was no one in the house but you and you made a point of refusing to pick up the phone at all.
Robin would visit, not bothering to knock as she slipped into your house, huffing and humming to herself as she climbed your stairs, barging into your room unannounced.
She set a careful gaze on you, a lump underneath the duvet, as she dumped your favourite snacks at the foot of your bed.
“You’re not sick, are you?” You hated how it didn’t even sound like a question, just an accusation. “You wanna tell me what happened?”
And you did, you told her everything from the joint, to your kiss, the entire night. You told her about Nate, about your confession, about the way Steve looked at you when you told him that you thought he loved you too.
Robin listened, curled up by your pillows beside you, your head on her shoulder and her cheek resting on yours, a bag of Reece’s Pieces between you both.
“I know that this probably isn’t what you wanna hear right now,” the girl began, patting your hand with her own, “you know, with you being all heart broken and what not.”
You huffed.
“But I don’t believe for a second that Steve doesn’t love you, that he isn’t in love with you.”
“Robin, please,” you groaned, shoving your face into her arm, because she was right, you didn’t wanna hear it. You’d spent too long trying to convince yourself that she was right, Steve was in love with you, only to blurt out your feelings for him and have him look at you, sheer panic on his face, in return.
She sighed, knowing it was useless trying to make you see her side of things, so she pushed her nose to your temple, blew a raspberry to the side of your head and stole another Reece’s Piece.
“Have you spoken to him?” She asked, voice unusually quiet.
You shook your head.
“Have you let him try?” The girl said knowingly.
You shook your head again.
Another huff, a somewhat affectionate butt of her head to yours and then she turned, shuffling against the pillows until you were face to face.
“He’s really broken up about this,” she told you and her words made you wanna cry again. “You need to let him explain.”
You sniffed, eyes watering and despite the ache that still lived in your chest, you nodded.
“‘Cause I don’t think you said things right, y’know?” Robin squinted at you, trying to make sense of what you’d told her Steve had said that night. “He’s a guy, shit, he’s Steve. Communication isn’t his strong point.”
“I don’t know what’s more clearer than ‘you’re my best friend, I can’t lose you’. Idiot or not, he made it pretty obvious that we’re never gonna be anything more.”
The movie that you had both hardly been watching was over, the screen fading to black and the credits rolling. A love song started to play, soppy and too cheery and you grunted, searching for the remote between the sheets before angrily pressing the off button. Silence fell over you and Robin snorted, flinging herself over your lap and looking up at you with a small smile.
She pressed a finger to the tip of your nose and you scowled.
“Ever think that maybe he’s just scared?”
Your frown deepened and you stared down at your friend, lips parted at the absurdity of her question.
“What?” You scoffed. “I’ve watched him take down a demogorgon with a baseball bat, Robin, the boy isn’t scared of much anymore-”
“He also got his heart broken by the first girl he told he loved,” Robin interrupted. “He dates girls that he isn’t really interested in, that are the complete opposite of you. His folks are never around, he’s made his own family out of his friends.”
You swallowed, throat suddenly feeling thick, your chest tight.
“You're probably the most constant thing in his life, y’know,” she mused, voice unbearably soft. The girl brought a hand up to tuck a stand of your hair behind your ear, the gesture fond. “He’s always had you, maybe he’s just scared to fuck things up and lose you.”
You couldn’t say anything. You didn't want to. ‘Cause that stupid burn was scratching at your eyes again, at the back of your throat and you were so done with crying, you were so over pushing your face into your pillow to dry your face.
Robin sat up suddenly, stretching and bending down to pull on her shoes. She popped another piece of chocolate in her mouth before smacking a kiss to your cheek and you were still silent, bundled up between pillows and blankets in bed.
“Talk to him, babe,” she told you, heading for the door without any other goodbye, “ I’m sure he’s got a lot to say.”
Fuck.
You picked and put down your phone six times before you decided to pull on your shoes and start walking. It didn’t take long to walk from yours to the Harrington’s, but you moved at a snail's pace, playing tightrope along the edge of the sidewalk before you stopped at the corner of Steve’s street, heart suddenly ready to burst from your chest. The sun started to set as you waited, hesitating. The sky turned from blue to lilac, tangerine and peach and the air became still.
You walked up his front path, hand raised, ready to knock.
It was a sparkler between your ribs kinda feeling, jump off a cliff kind of feeling, take a shot of tequila kind of feeling, risk fucking everything kind of feeling.
You’d walked away from the boy, his words stuck in his throat, your name dying on his lips and now you were ready to make it up to him. ‘Cause Steve was right, whatever either of you felt, you couldn’t lose him either.
The idea of rejection hurt, but not having Steve Harrington in your life hurt even more.
So you knocked.
Once, twice, three times, but no one answered. His car was in the drive, no parents to be seen and you took a deep breath before you plucked up the courage to open the door like you normally could.
Your footsteps echoed in the large hallway and the only sound you could hear came from the backyard, the tinny sound of music playing from outside. You found him there, spread out lazy by the edge of the pool, shirt off, one leg dipped into the water and his hair messy from swimming and the leftover heat from the day.
Shadows from the tree branches above fell over him, cutting through the gold light, streaks of pink and rose painting his skin pretty and you stood for just a second, watching through the open patio doors.
You tugged anxiously at the tagged hem of your shorts, the T-shirt you’d tucked into it suddenly feeling too constricting and you wanted to pull at the collar, you wanted to take off running again, because the sight of him hurt.
Before you could step out into the last patch of sun, Steve sat up, muscles flexing, pool water swirling and he froze, lips parted and staring at you.
It had only been four days since you’d last seen him, but it felt like far too much time had passed. You hadn’t gone that long without him in years, not since your parents told you that they were taking you to Utah to spend a summer with your grandparents. They’d cut the trip short by two weeks, aggravated and done with their fifteen year old daughter who didn’t shut up about how much she kissed her best friend.
Yearly trips to the lake house with the Harrington’s resumed the summer after that.
The boy whispered your name as if he’d scare you off and he sounded tired, sounded a little broken, just like Robin had said.
You lifted your hand in an awkward wave, stepping out into the yard and into the streak of sun that stretched across the patio. It warmed you, skin lit up, a golden glow slanting over both of you and even from where you stood, Steve’s eyes looked like honey.
“Hey.”
He stood, a hand raking through his still damp hair, making it even messier than usual and he mimicked you, hand raised, wingers waggling shyly, as if you hadn’t known each other for seventeen years.
“I was just coming to see you,” Steve admitted and he sounded as nervous as you felt. “I tried calling you. A lot.”
You nodded, feeling guilty and it burned at your chest. “I know, I’m sorry.”
Steve nodded, bare foot scuffling against the slabs and you wanted to crawl back into your bed, already feeling defeated. It wasn’t supposed to feel like this with Steve.
“I was gonna come round, you know,” Steve started again, gesturing to you, he looked lost, a little helpless. “Before now I mean… I just- I didn’t wanna upset you and you didn’t answer the phone so I just,” he shrugged, looking at the pool instead of you. “I didn’t wanna upset you any more.”
Almost silence; the trickle of the pool filter, the buzz of insects, the sway of the wind in the tree branches.
And then, “I’ve missed you,” Steve said, voice softer than before. “A lot.”
You let out the breath you didn’t know you’d been holding then, feet moving forward and you let yourself fall into one of the loungers, a space beside the pool that was so overly familiar.
You looked at the boy then, and god, he was the last cherry popsicle, he was sunshine, he was summer, he was full of promises and all your secrets, he was late nights and early mornings, first crushes and last kisses.
“I’ve missed you too,” you told him, voice hurting with sincerity.
It seemed to be all the boy needed to surge into action, because he relaxed at your admission, moving to the other lounger so he could sit across from you, bare knees almost bumping and he was leaning forward, invading your senses and he smelled like chlorine and sunscreen, mint and cedar and boy and summer and Steve.
“Why’d you leave?”
“I’m sorry,” you told him, eyes suddenly filling with tears because you were so embarrassed by it all. From your outburst to your storming away, leaving the boy sitting confused after he’d come to get you. “I just- I couldn’t sit there and handle the rejection, I never should have said anything, it was so stupid of me-”
You were stopped by his hand reaching out and covering your own, that familiar warmth of his fingers twisting between yours, a wide, rough palm, calloused on your own.
You looked at him, cheeks warm with your ramblings and he sighed, affection radiating from him as he gazed at you. He didn’t look confused this time, or panicked. Maybe a little bit scared but there was something else there and it shone a little brighter.
“Sweetheart, I never once tried to reject you,” Steve huffed out a soft laugh, “shit, I don’t think I could if my life depended on it.”
“What?” You froze, brows knitting together as you replayed the same conversation you both had in the car and you shook your head, confused. “You literally told me I was your best friend, Steve, that you couldn’t lose me.”
“And that’s true!” He burst out, “you just never let me finish!”
He sighed, using his free hand to scrub over his face and he took a deep breath before he faced you again.
“I panicked.” He said it so simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I’m so sorry babe but I fuckin’ panicked. You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to hear those words from you, you can’t even fucking imagine how long. I just didn’t wanna mess it up, I couldn’t. I couldn’t risk not having you.”
A sound of surprise left your lips at his words and you wanted to laugh at the irony of them, ‘cause yes, yes could imagine. But you kept quiet, letting the boy speak, making up for how you didn’t last time. You squeezed his hand instead, hoping it was reassuring enough.
You watched him lick his lips as he thought about his next words and your brows rose when he suddenly moved, kneeling in front of you and tapping at your knee, silently asking for you to spread your legs and let him in. You did, almost embarrassed by the lack of hesitation on your par but Steve moved into the space tour created for him, suddenly too close.
You exhaled a little slower, could count the new freckles on his nose, could see the small scar that cut through his brow, the one you gave him when you were seven and pillow fights got too boisterous.
He smoothed his hands up and down your thighs, a touch that brought comfort and he took another deep breath, readying himself for what he wanted to tell you.
“I’ve been in love with you since we were sixteen,” he said slowly, each word dropping like an atom bomb and you wondered if the earth was shaking. “Maybe longer, I was probably too stupid to work it out before then.”
You let out a disbelieving laugh and Steve grinned at the sound.
“It took me a little while,” he admitted, gaze lowering as if he were suddenly shy, “I didn’t know the difference between loving you and being in love with you. You’ve been in my life for as long as I can remember.”
His fingers found the frayed hem of your shorts, twisting the strands between his fingers absentmindedly.
“I remember Nancy telling me that, uh,” he cleared his throat, words catching on his lips with nerves and hesitation, “she uh, told me that I didn’t love her like I thought I did. That I was in love with someone else.”
You inhaled sharply, remembering the girl telling you something similar that day on the bench. You’d been confused and a little irritated at her, defensive maybe, now that you looked back on it. You remembered the way she twisted her lips to hide a grin that she didn’t want to annoy you with, eyes all too knowing.
“I kinda realised then,” Steve nodded, eyes finding yours from under his lashes and god, you wondered when his face had moved so close to yours. “She was totally right, I just didn’t really wanna admit it.”
“Why not?” You asked, voice a little sad, ‘cause that had been years ago, and you felt overlooked, like so many missed opportunities had passed you both by and god, were the two of you really that stupid?
“I was stupid!” Steve burst out and you laughed, a little sad with watery eyes but shit, you were too. “So I kept dating random girls, anyone, really. Tried to take my mind off you, tried to forget about you in my bed.”
God, the memory made you burn.
“I didn’t know what to do,” he whispered, still leaning into you, eyes closed like he was at confession. “Asking you out on a date seemed so ridiculous when I already know you better than anyone else.”
Your nose grazed Steve’s, and you let out a small sigh because as much as you were hurt by it all, you understood. You and Steve had seen every movie there was to see, had taken trips out of town to every concert, spent too many evenings at burger joints and ice cream parlours. You probably wouldn’t have guessed you were on a date with the boy unless he was in a tux and there was a chandelier above you.
And that seemed like a big ask.
“I would’ve loved to go on a date with you,” you said anyway, cause the idea of Steve pulling up outside your door with flowers in his hand gave you butterflies, tugging at your heart in a way that made you warm.
“Yeah?” He smiled, blinding and it only widened when you nodded.
He moved impossibly closer still, cheek to cheek so he could find your ear with his lips, hands moving to your thighs, thumbs rubbing circles on the inside.
“I spent so long tryin’ to work up the courage to ask you to be my girlfriend,” his admission sounded like his biggest secret yet and you held your breath as he whispered it to you. “So long that years passed and we got older and suddenly the word ‘girlfriend’ didn’t seem enough.”
It was strange, but you knew what Steve meant. The word seemed too arbitrary, too normal, to describe the relationship you had with each other, how you felt about the other.
“I know,” you told him, voice just as soft and quiet as his. “I’d still like to be yours though.”
His grin was contagious, warmer than the sun that was starting to set, brighter than the rays on the pool and you swore the world was spinning a little faster in excitement, as if the planets and the moon were just as happy as you were.
“Yeah?” He asked, low and rough, nose pressing to your cheek, lips just brushing yours.
You nodded, eyes fluttering closed, waiting, wanting.
“Can we always be this close?” Steve asked, and you melted a little at the question, at that soft sincerity he always managed to give you.
“Yeah, god, please,” you answered and your voice sounded a little husky, a little pleading because you couldn’t imagine anything else. “Can you kiss me, now?”
The boy swore under his breath, the curse mixing with a huff of laughter and he smiled against you, mouth pressing happy to your cheek and you beamed at him, lashes tickling his skin, both of you warm against the other.
“Could never really figure out how to say no to you, y’know that?” He whispered, as if he was giving away a secret. Steve let his lips hover over yours, his hands wrapping around the small of your back, fingers playing with your belt loops, pulling you flush with him. Your hands smoothed over his bare chest and around his neck, skin hot with the sun, with being near you.
“Can I take you on a date?”
Something bloomed inside of you, wildflowers between your ribs, a new day of summer, a heatwave in your chest.
“If I say yes, will you kiss me?” you asked, a little bratty, a little teasing. You’d waited so long for both, you didn’t know what you wanted first.
But then Steve was pushing into you, lips pressing down onto your own, his hand along the underside of your jaw as he used his thumb to push a little under your chin, tilting you up to his mouth so he could lick into you, adoration pouring into you. You felt the way he loved you, like the way everyone else saw it. It still felt new, his lips on yours, new in an exciting way, new in a ‘god, I could get used to this’ way.
“Lemme take you on a date,” he said again, a smile on his lips, pressing it to yours and his voice was sunshine but rougher, even warmer and it made you smile that cheek hurting kinda smile.
You nodded.
“You still my best friend, Harrington?”
Steve pulled back to look at you, eyes shining. “That and more, sweetheart.” And when he said that, it felt enough. ‘More’.
“You still gonna protect me from everything bad and scary?” You nudged the tip of your nose to his, voice sweet.
“With everything I have in me,” he answered honestly, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth, catching your laughter. “Baseball bat and all.”
“Promise you won’t break my heart?” You asked, forehead to his, eyes full of every emotion you felt. Love, excitement, fear, hope, nervousness, adoration.
“Promise you won’t break mine?” Steve whispered back, a hand on your cheek, thumb grazing over your lip.
“I promise,” you told him, hands gripping right at his shoulders, running across the nape of his neck, diving into his hair.
“I promise,” he repeated, and shit, you believed him.
Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader x Robin Buckley
Description: You and Eddie have been together for a while, and as a bisexual couple there's one thing you can agree on: Robin Buckley and Steve Harrington are hot.
Warnings: SMUT (18+ only, Minors DNI!!!!), Oral (F Receiving), Fingering (F Receiving), Semi-Public (they're in Steve's backyard), Robin only partakes in sexual acts with Reader and does not interact romantically or sexually with Steve or Eddie in any way.
A/N: I want so desperately to be the plaything of these three. Oh and yes, there will be a part 2 eventually.
Word Count: 6660
It was a cool summer evening in Hawkins, the breeze blowing lightly as the four of you passed around an expertly rolled joint, courtesy of your boyfriend Eddie Munson, and your faces were lit by the soft otherworldly blue of the pool lights. You’d all gathered at Steve’s place for your weekly movie night before collectively deciding that nothing sounded properly appealing. You’d also collectively realized that a dip in the pool sounded much more inviting.
Robin was currently the only one actually in the pool, at least fully submerged in it, as Steve was laid back in one of the beach chairs he’d set up and you and Eddie lingered by the edge as you smoked. You’re not sure how it started, but Eddie and Robin had engaged in a heated debate on the intricacies of pleasuring a woman.
“Listen, all I’m saying is I think a girl would know her way around lady bits better than a guy,” Robin protested, one arm holding the side of the pool as she gestured wildly with the other hand and the water lapped softly at her movements.
You kicked your feet in the water as you sat on the rough concrete edge and leaned into Eddie’s bare chest behind you as he took a drag, giggling as he and Robin continued their spat.
“And I’m saying,” Eddie nodded his head sharply in emphasis, his hair tickling your cheek as he leaned forward and exhaled a puff of smoke, “It’s about the experience. You gotta know what you’re doing.”
Steve piped up from the chair he was lounging in behind you. “Oh? And is experience something Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson has a lot of?” he jabbed, reaching forward to grab the joint from Eddie’s hand.
Eddie scoffed as he handed it off, returning his hands to your sides and giving them a squeeze as you let out a giggly squeal, “With this one, I sure do.” You rolled your eyes and lightly elbowed him, feeling the gentle, ticklish warmth from where his fingers touched.
Steve grimaced at the public display of affection with mock disgust as he pressed the joint to his lips and inhaled deeply. “And on that note, I’m gonna grab another beer,” he said, jumping up to walk towards the kitchen. “Get you guys anything?” he called over his shoulder.
You all placed your orders as he walked away before Eddie took notice, “Hey! Harrington! At least leave the weed behind, would you?”
Steve turned around, standing in the doorway as he leaned against his arm and made a show of taking the longest drag yet. From the distance all you could see was the small glowing spot grow in intensity between his fingers as he wiggled his eyebrows tauntingly.
“Consider it payment for me letting you guys use my pool!” he called back as he lowered the joint to flick the ash off on the ground.
“Oh fuck you, Harrington,” Eddie protested with a flash of his middle finger, his rings glinting in the low light.
Steve chuckled, “You wish, Munson.” He finished what was left of it before putting it out and tossing the roach in the trash can as he left for the kitchen.
The metalhead coughed and cleared his throat, waving his hand in front of his face to pretend it was just a delayed effect of the weed smoke and not that Steve Harrington had just called him out, knowingly or not.
Trying to regain his composure and ignore the knowing smirk you were giving him, Eddie immediately turned to Robin to continue their earlier debate.
“So let me get this straight,” he started, moving to sit next to you as he held his hands up in contemplation, “you really think that just having a vagina makes you better at eating one?” The disbelief was clear on his face.
Robin furrowed her eyebrows and nodded her head like it was obvious, “Well, yeah? Don’t you think you’d be better at sucking dick since you know what feels good?”
You snickered at her bluntness, pushing yourself off the edge and sliding into the embrace of the cool water next to Robin. You shivered slightly as you immersed yourself fully, acclimating to the cold slowly before inserting yourself into the debate. “She’s got a point there, babe.” You swam behind her and wrapped your arms around her neck, and Robin tried really hard not to focus on the way your breasts pressed against her back as you let your legs float up behind you. “Us girls just get each other.”
Eddie crossed his legs and leaned forward, squinting at the two of you. “Yeah? And just how much experience do either of you have at eating pussy?” When your eyes widened and Robin just stammered and sputtered incoherent thoughts, he grinned. “That’s what I thought,” he commented triumphantly as he cocked his head to either side.
“That’s not fair!” you whined as you brought your hand up, splashing him lightly as he guarded his face with a chuckle before replacing it on Robin’s shoulder to steady yourself. “It’s not like ladies are openly lining up to sleep with each other left and right. We’d be stoned in the streets!”
“Exactly! I’d love to get some experience, obviously, but I’d rather not out myself publicly,” Robin added, bouncing on the balls of her feet in slight irritation as you held on. “You stare at boobs, you get a pat on the back.” She placed a hand on her chest as she continued, “I stare at boobs, and it’s like I’ve committed a felony.”
“Okay,” you started, letting go of Robin and wading over to stand next to her, “So maybe experience is key to specific partners, but I say having a vagina means you understand the basics more,” you compromised, looking up at Eddie as you raised a brow, waiting for his response.
You heard the sliding glass door open as The Hair returned. “Oh my god, are you guys still on about this?” Steve walked out, heaving a sigh and carrying a six pack before setting them down with a soft thunk at the edge of the pool as he sat down next to Eddie.
“Yes, Steve. I need to be right,” Robin joked as she slowly waved her arms back and forth in the water and you nodded vehemently in agreement.
You grabbed a beer as you leaned against the edge, wet hands fumbling a bit before you were able to pop the tab and gulp down the cheap beverage. It felt pleasantly cold going down your throat as you bit back a slight wince of disgust at the aftertaste. Robin found herself enraptured by the way your throat bobbed with every swallow, eyes following the planes of your neck as you tilted your head back. She didn’t catch herself staring at you until it was too late--Eddie noticed and already had a devilish smirk forming on his face.
He’d known for a long time that you were bi, just the same as him. You’d both sort of come out to each other a while back when, ironically, discussing your attractions towards the two people you were hanging out with right now. He licked his lips, lost in thought for a moment as he clasped his hands together in his lap with a knowing smile.
You placed your now empty can back on the rough concrete with a clang, the pleasant buzz filling your mind as you looked up at Steve. “Don’t you think you’d be better at giving a guy head?” you asked, and he spit his drink as you clamored to shield yourself from the spray of beer that attacked you from his lips.
“Excuse me?” he replied, eyes going wide as he curled his lip and looked at you incredulously.
You dipped your head underneath the water to wash off the spittle before resurfacing with a gasp and a shake of your head. “You have a dick!” you exclaimed as you wiped your face with your forearm, causing Eddie to laugh at your brashness. “You’ve had your dick sucked, haven’t you?”
Steve continued to stare at you as if you’d lost your head and Eddie was cackling as he clapped his hands. Robin swam over and punched him lightly in the leg as she chuckled. “She asked you a question, pretty boy.”
Steve’s cheeks flushed and he vigorously shook his head, his perfectly styled hair bobbing with his movements as he blinked. “I mean, yeah, but-”
“So you know what feels good!” you interrupted, nodding your head dramatically.
Steve’s eyebrows furrowed as he threw a hand up, “I mean, I guess? Yeah?” He shook his head again and waved his hand dismissively, “If we’re being serious, I’m pretty sure women are a lot more complicated than men down there.”
“Hmm… agree to disagree,” you murmured as you floated over to lean your head against Robin’s shoulder, one hand coming to wrap around her bicep as you pressed it against her side.
You were usually pretty cuddly with all of your friends, but the slight buzz of alcohol was definitely making you lean into your movements more, and Robin blushed slightly at the contact. You hummed contentedly as you relaxed in the water, cheek warm against Robin’s skin.
Eddie locked eyes with Robin, giving her a wink that made her knit her brows together in confusion before he turned to you, “So…” he began, waiting for you to turn your attention to him, “I think we can settle this little dispute of ours.”
“What are you talking about, Eds?” you asked him, letting go of your hold on Robin to swim back to him. You rested your hands on the edge of the pool as you stared up at him sweetly. His deep brown eyes bored into your own as he simply smirked at you for a moment, relishing in the look of anticipation on your face.
Steve swung his legs over the edge of the pool, dipping his feet into the water as he leaned forward. “Yeah, what are you getting at, Munson?”
Eddie tilted his head and shrugged, a cheeky grin plastered on his face as he reached down to brush your cheek with the pad of his thumb, his gaze never leaving your face, “I’m saying that we have two lovely ladies right here who are obviously into each other.”
Your jaw dropped and Robin gasped. Steve was also speechless, raising his eyebrows at the metalhead before looking back between the two of you. It was as if he were trying to suddenly connect the dots that had been right in front of his face the entire time.
“Eddie!” you hissed finally as you pulled back from him, heat rising to your cheeks.
Robin was a flustered mess, backing up and bracing herself on the ladder as she tried to compose herself. “W-We’re just friends! And-and you two are dating!” she fumbled with her words as she pointed to the both of you, “Not that you’re not attractive, Y/N! And not that I wouldn’t-I mean, I’m sure I’d enjoy sleepi-I mean, any girl would be lucky to kiss you, let alone-!”
Eddie sat back as Robin continued her rambling, leaning on his hands and looking like the cat who got the cream as he looked over to Steve. “It’s not just me who sees this, right?”
Steve, still grappling with the shock of Eddie Munson so openly offering his girlfriend to their mutual friend, continued to stare at you and Robin. Mulling it over in his head and seeing the way the two of you scrambled to compose yourselves, he shrugged his shoulders and just decided to go with it. “You wanted to be right, Buckley,” he teased, and Robin gave him an exasperated look with her mouth agape as she slapped a hand down on the water’s surface to splash at him for his betrayal.
You definitely wouldn’t have said this sober, but the buzz of alcohol and the floating embrace of your high were definitely winning you over. You couldn’t help yourself when you scoffed at the two boys indignantly and replied, “Well then… then it’s only fair if you two test it out, too!”
Eddie wet his lips in contemplation, but he was having too much fun teasing you. “Hmm, I’m pretty sure the argument was about pleasing a lady originally,” he commented, not missing the way Steve was staring at him out of the corner of his eye. “We should focus on one experiment at a time, I think.”
Your heart was racing and you could tell Robin was equally paralyzed when you glanced over at her. Her eyes kept glancing down to your lips as she exhaled shakily. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to touch her, to kiss her, and you’d received Eddie’s explicit blessing in this regard, but the last thing you wanted to do was ruin the friendship you shared with some silly little dispute.
“Do… Do you want to do this?” you asked quietly with a slight nod of your head in her direction.
Robin looked like a deer in the headlights as she stared into your eyes and gripped the ladder bars like her life depended on it. Her lips parted to say something, but instead she just swallowed it back and nodded her head enthusiastically before letting go of the ladder. You slowly made your way towards her, the water sloshing softly around your chest as you approached and you raised a hand to her cheek. Her skin was soft beneath your touch and you inhaled deeply, the closeness of your bodies meaning something completely different to you now as you took in the scent of chlorine and her strong-smelling strawberry shampoo. Leaning forward, you tentatively pressed your lips against hers as she shuddered and gasped softly into your mouth.
She was still entirely too tense and you pulled away, searching her expression for any hesitation. Robin’s bottom lip quivered in anticipation and she nodded again, her hand slowly coming up out of the water to wrap around your neck as you kissed her.
You’d never kissed a girl before, as much as you’d thought about it. It felt completely different to kissing Eddie and you delighted in how soft her lips were, your fingers tickling down her sides to grip her waist. She was still careful with her movements, not really sure how to hold you or reciprocate your touches, and her fingers threaded through your hair as droplets of water from her hand cascaded down your neck.
“Shit,” Steve whispered under his breath as he watched you two make out, not wanting to be gross towards his friends but unable to take his eyes off of the both of you.
“See? What did I tell you?” he said with a shit-eating grin. He noted the way Steve’s gaze was focused on you specifically, eyes hungrily tracing along the curve of your back beneath the water as you leaned into the kiss. “She’s hot, isn’t she?” Eddie muttered as he leaned towards him, chuckling when Steve simply nodded without tearing his eyes away. He’d always found you attractive and probably would have made a move on you if Munson hadn’t gotten to you first.
You pressed against Robin, deepening the kiss as you pushed her back to the pool wall. Your instincts were taking over as you lifted your thigh between her legs, sighing as you felt the warmth of her core through her swimsuit. You took advantage of Robin’s moan to dip your tongue into her mouth and swirl it against hers. You could feel her heart hammering against her chest as you slid your hand up her body to rest behind her head. You both pulled away, breathing heavily as you stroked the nape of her neck gently.
“L-Let me… let me take over,” Robin asked quietly, grabbing your shoulders when you nodded and gently flipping you so you were against the wall now, looking you up and down before taking your face in her hands and crashing her lips into yours. You leaned into the kiss and she experimentally nipped at your bottom lip, smiling as you whimpered softly.
Gaining more confidence, she kissed the corner of your mouth before planting her lips along your jawline, nipping at the skin as your hand came up to hold the back of her head. Her lips ghosted along your neck, her breath tickling your skin as she brought a hand to your breast. You gasped as she kneaded the skin, her thumb brushing over your nipple through the fabric of your bikini top.
“You… oh you feel amazing,” Robin murmured into your neck as you clung to her for dear life, trying to grind into her to gain any semblance of friction for the building heat in your loins.
“You," your breath hitched when she ran her tongue along the droplets of water littering your skin, "you too." Your mind was too muddled by lust and beer to say anything else. You trailed your other hand down to cup her through her swimsuit bottoms and she bucked into your hand, moaning low as you pressed a finger to her clothed slit.
“S-Somebody’s impatient,” Robin joked as her face contorted in pleasure, gently sucking on your neck as she reached under your top to pinch at your nipples in retaliation before rubbing soothing circles over them with her thumbs. Each swipe of her fingers sent tingling shocks to your core and you moaned wantonly at her ministrations. You glanced over at the two guys you had all but forgotten about in your haze, half-lidded eyes darting between the two of them as they watched you.
The boys were struggling on the sidelines. Steve cleared his throat quietly as he looked away from you and desperately tried to adjust his hard on in his trunks, and Eddie was all but palming himself, attempting to maintain some restraint as he watched the love of his life fulfill one of the only fantasies he couldn’t make a reality for her. His gaze was dark and predatory, earning a shudder from you as he smirked.
Their eyes on you only turned you on further as you started to stroke Robin’s cunt through her swimsuit, all of your nerves on fire as you pleasured each other. Something about the water of the pool only added to the feeling of her skin on yours, the lack of friction allowing her thumbs to swipe over your pebbled nipples with ease. You shut your eyes and whined, pulling her head up to kiss her again as you moaned into her mouth.
Robin removed her hands from your tits to grab you by the hips, lifting you in the water as she tried to get you to sit on the edge in front of her. Eddie caught on and moved over to lift you up as you pushed off the edge with your hands, and he sat behind you with your back to his chest as he started to trail kisses on your neck. He ran his tongue up your spine and neck, the contrast of his hot mouth on your quickly cooling skin causing goosebumps to spread across your body. Your attention was pulled back in front of you as you felt Robin’s fingers dance up your calves. With her hands on your knees, Robin gently pried your legs open as she moved between them, looking up at you as she bit her lip. Your bikini top was pushed up your chest, exposing your breasts to the cool night air as droplets of water trailed down your skin, and you heard Steve groan at the sight of you as Robin dove down to begin planting sloppy kisses on the expanse of your inner thighs.
Robin bit and sucked on a spot just outside your center and you gasped, bucking your hips into her face. She traced her tongue along the edge of your swimsuit, so close to where you needed it but just out of reach, and you whimpered as you pouted down at her. You shuddered as you felt Eddie’s fingers trace along the string of your bikini bottom, pulling one of the knots loose as Robin worked in tandem to peel them off of your dripping center. Robin’s breath hitched in her throat as you were exposed fully to her, suddenly a little self conscious about what she was about to do.
“Come on, Buckley. I thought you said you knew what to do here,” Eddie teased lightly with a smirk as he brought a hand to your chest, groping your breast as he pinched and pulled at the skin.
Her eyes flashed up to your boyfriend for a second before looking back at your wet slit, exhaling shakily, “Shut up, Munson.”
You giggled but it caught in your throat when Robin’s tongue licked gently at your folds, throwing your head back against Eddie’s shoulder when she applied a little more pressure. She flattened her tongue against you, stroking it along your labia before swirling her tongue around the hood of your clit.
“Fuck, Robin, just like that,” you praised, your hand resting against the back of her head as she hummed against you, your fingers lacing through the damp strands as you watched her.
She might not be the best at reading social cues, but damn if she wasn’t an expert at reading your body’s reactions to her tongue. She dipped it deep inside of your core as her nose brushed up against your clit and your breathing quickened, moaning loudly as she learned how to make your body melt against her. Her arms reached underneath your legs, fingers digging into the plush of your ass as she pulled you closer.
Eddie held you up from behind with his arms around your waist when you began to slump against him, drinking in the sight of you. Your tits bounced slightly as your chest heaved, and he could almost feel you gently tugging on Robin’s hair the way you usually did to him.
“You look so fucking gorgeous babe. So absolutely fucked-out from Robin’s tongue.” You shuddered from his praise as you held onto his arm and he looked over to Steve, still sitting uncomfortably with a rather prominent tent in his shorts, and another cheshire cat grin crossed his face. “Harrington. Get over here,” he called out, gesturing with a nod of his head in your direction.
Steve looked from side to side, as if suddenly any other Harrington had appeared and he was referring to them. He raised his eyebrows and pointed to himself, mouthing “me?” before taking a deep breath and awkwardly standing up, walking towards the three of you. He muttered a low "fuck" as he approached, getting a better look at the way Robin was absolutely devouring you.
"If there's one thing I learned in science class," Eddie began as he traced feather-light circles onto your stomach, "it's that experiments,” he whispered, his breath tickling the shell of your ear, “should have a control group."
Steve screwed his face to the side, snapped out of the trance for a moment. "Our friend is eating out your… fuck, very hot girlfriend,” he stated, his gaze hot on your skin, “and you're spewing nerd shit?"
You half giggled and whimpered at the compliment, locking eyes with him for a second, and he felt his cock twitch against the mesh of his shorts. Robin remained focused on the task at hand, her eyes locked on the way your mouth parted in a permanent "o" as she licked long stripes up your slit, sliding one hand along the underside of your thigh to tease a finger at your entrance as her arm splashed gently on the water’s surface.
Eddie was desperately trying to keep his composure, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard and continued, "All I'm saying is that we need to compare groups. I would be going in with a bias: I know my way around my girl's body. You," he punctuated as he pointed a finger into the other man's chest, "Steve Harrington, do not."
Steve glanced down at the ringed finger pressed against his sternum and then back up at Eddie’s face, not sure what to do about the way his body reacted to the commanding nature of the touch. The two of them stared at each other, tension building as Eddie ran the tip of his tongue across his bottom lip. You watched the two of them, waiting with bated breath for one of them to cave and kiss the other.
Robin slowly pressed a finger inside of you, moaning softly as she watched it disappear into your pussy. Your gaze was immediately drawn down to watch her, all attention focused on the way she started to curl the digit against your walls, pressing it up into the spongy spot that made you see stars. Steve’s head turned back to the two of you and he swallowed hard as he watched, registering what Eddie was saying as he suddenly started feeling far too warm out of the water.
“Aww, is Stevie boy getting all worked up?” Eddie teased, biting his lip as he brought his hand up to cup the other man’s jaw. Steve was surprised to say the least, but he couldn’t argue that there was something alluring about the whole situation and the metalhead in front of him whose smirk was likely to do him in completely. “You can touch her,” he reassured, punctuating with the slow movement of his own fingers tracing softly across Steve’s stubbled chin before pulling his hand away quickly, “and don’t worry, she’s talked about you too,” he added, turning to you. “She wants this, don’t you Y/N?”
Robin had wrapped her lips around your clit, sucking hard as you cried out. Eddie chuckled and you glanced over at him, nodding lazily as your eyes darted between him and Steve. He wasn’t what you would call boyfriend material for yourself personally, but you couldn’t deny he was attractive. And you certainly couldn’t deny the ways you’d fantasized about having him in your bed with Eddie.
It was all the confirmation Steve needed before he grabbed your head in his hands and pulled you into a searing kiss. He tasted like beer and weed and something else altogether that you could only describe as him, and you melted into his touch as he carded his fingers through the hair at the nape of your neck, gripping it as he tugged slightly and tilted your head back to kiss you deeper. He delved his tongue into your mouth and groaned in relief as you sighed against him, lowering a hand to palm at your breast. You gasped as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, keening into his mouth as Robin added another finger. Steve pulled away from you, pupils blown out with lust as he stared into your eyes before he let go of you to slide into the pool.
“Alright Buckley, my turn,” Steve stated, tapping his overzealous friend on the shoulder. Robin pouted as she pulled away from your clit with a pop, watching as you clamped around her fingers as she slowly slid them out.
You felt bad for your friend and looked down at her, beckoning for her to join you on the pool’s edge as you leaned back. “Come here, Robin. Let me take care of you.”
Robin’s eyes widened as she pulled herself out of the water, splashing Steve in the process as he spit and sputtered with all the water in his face and mouth, and you giggled at her eagerness. You took her hand in yours as you brought her closer to you, sighing as she pressed her lips to yours. You could taste yourself on her as your tongue dove into her mouth, dancing with hers as you felt Steve position himself between your legs. Much like Robin had, he couldn’t help himself from leaving teasing kisses up and down your thighs.
Eddie scooted back from you as you moved to lie down, dragging Robin with you as she threw a leg over your hip and straddled your stomach, thoroughly soaking your drying skin. You cupped her sex again, watching in awe as she started to grind down against your hand. “You look so beautiful,” you praised, earning a blush and a breathy “oh” from Robin as she braced herself with her hands on your tits. You nudged her swimsuit bottoms to the side as you brushed your fingers against her bare slit, biting your lip as you felt the warm, slick wetness there. “Fuck, is this for me?” you breathed out, feeling your thighs quiver when she nodded, absolutely speechless. You teased two fingers at her entrance, rubbing them up and down her slit before sliding them in her pussy with ease, groaning when she started to bounce on them while she groped at your chest.
Steve was taking his sweet time with you, kissing and sucking at the plush of your thighs before laving his tongue at the junction just outside your dripping center. You felt yourself clench on nothing as you whimpered, desperate for his attention on your core. He spread you with his thumbs, breath hot on your cunt as he hovered there for a moment.
“Fuck, Steve, please,” you begged, thighs twitching in his hold as you squirmed beneath his gaze.
Your voice was like music to his ears and he groaned softly, spurred into action as he dove straight into you without warning. You cried out in pleasure as your back arched slightly. He dipped his tongue into you with long, flat swipes as he brought his thumb up to flick at your clit.
Eddie pulled your head into his lap, his hard on pressing against your cheek through his trunks as he ran his hands through your hair. You stared up at him through long lashes as he smirked at you. “Enjoying yourself?” he teased.
You reached your free hand to brush his hair out of his face. “Fuck yes,” you replied, earning a chuckle from him. “This is not how I expected the night to g--ah!”
You felt Steve smile against you as he swiped at your clit with the tip of his tongue. “Don’t forget about me down here, princess,” he murmured into your folds, the vibrations of his voice adding to your pleasure.
“Mm, she really is a little pillow princess right now, isn’t she?” Eddie snickered, watching your eyes screw shut as Steve tongue-fucked you and Robin rode your fingers.
“Sh-shut up, Eds,” you eked out between moans, moving your hand to lazily stroke at his clothed cock as he inhaled sharply at the contact. “I’ve--hah--I’ve done plenty,” you protested.
Robin hummed in agreement, “You’re, f-fuck, perfect.” She tweaked your nipples in her fingers as she bounced on your hand and you whined. “F-feel so good.”
Steve sucked on your clit harshly and you bucked, nearly throwing Robin off of you as your abdominal muscles contracted. He was intent on reminding you of his presence between your legs as he inserted his fingers, keeping you spread with one hand while he focused his lips and tongue on your bud. He listened closely to your moans as he pressed into you, his pace picking up when he found the spot that made you keen loudly. He timed his thrusts with swirls of his tongue around your clit and you became a whimpering mess as you felt the knot in your stomach begin to build.
“Shit, Harrington. Sounds like you know what you’re doing after all,” Eddie praised as he started to rock his hips into your face. Your mouth watered and, if you were in a better position, you would have immediately taken his cock down your throat. For now, he seemed content to simply taunt you and grin down at you while the other two had their fun with you.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck-” you chanted as your hips moved to thrust back onto Steve’s fingers, your eyes rolling back in pleasure as he rubbed along your inner walls. “Shit, yes. Right there, don’t stop. Fuck.”
Your eyes flashed open to look at Robin, watching the way her tits bounced with her movements. Your mind was hazy, and all you could think was how badly you wanted to watch her come undone with you. You mirrored Steve’s thrusts with your own hand as you started rubbing her clit with your thumb.
“A-ah! Fuck!” Robin cried out, grinding on you with more fervor as you felt her pussy squeeze and flutter around your fingers. “Oh god, Y/N, I--Shit,” she stammered as you finger fucked her. You delighted in the moans she made as they grew higher and higher in pitch and you licked your lips, grabbing her hip with your hand to steady her.
Steve was more than enjoying himself if his noises were anything to go by. He grunted and groaned into your pussy as he sucked at your clit, stilling his thrusts to rapidly curl his fingers into you over and over. The focused attention against that one spot had you moaning like a porn star, crying out as you neared your peak.
“You gonna cum on Harrington’s fingers, pretty girl?” Eddie whispered to you, “Gonna show him just how beautiful it is when you snap?”
You whined at his dirty talk, catching glimpses of Steve’s head between your thighs whenever Robin bounced up. Your eyes met his, half-lidded and heady with the smell and taste of you filling his senses, and he made a show of swirling the flat of his tongue on your pearl as he continued to press his fingers into that perfect spot.
He withdrew slightly to press a kiss against your clit. “Fuck yes, cum for me princess,” he groaned into your folds between laps of his tongue, returning his lips to your bud as he redoubled his efforts.
“Oh, oh god--” The pleasure in you finally peaked, crashing you into your orgasm as you screamed out his name. Steve continued his assault through your climax as you bucked against him, whimpering from the overstimulation as your every nerve was set ablaze and you squirmed under his touch as he slid his fingers out.
Robin watched you, absolutely awe-struck as she rode your hand and finally tipped over the edge, moaning your name and praises as she convulsed around your fingers. You reached up to cup her jaw as you pulled her down to kiss you, moaning into each other’s mouths as the warm tingles of afterglow washed over you. You pulled your fingers out to roam over her hip and grab into the plush of her ass, loving the way she gasped into your mouth at the simplest touch even now.
You heard Steve get out of the pool as you slanted your lips against Robin’s. “So. You think I win?” he chortled as he sat next to Eddie, grabbing a towel to wipe your slick off of his face.
Robin pulled away from you quickly, staring defiantly at Steve. “That’s not fair! You pushed me away before I was done,” she retorted. “I totally would have won if you weren’t so greedy.”
He gave her a once over, noting the way her breathing was still ragged and her face and chest flushed as she hovered over you, “Looks like you ‘won’ plenty to me.”
Robin rolled her eyes as she slid off of you, sitting on her heels next to you as she offered her hand to help you sit up. Without their body heat, your damp skin suddenly felt much colder in the night’s breeze.
“That was…” you began, trailing off as you fixed your bikini and struggled to find the words to say. You looked between Steve and Eddie, heat rising in your cheeks when you looked down at Steve’s groin. Steve noticed your glance and scratched the back of his head, clearly bashful despite the fact that he just ate you out a moment prior. Eddie caught on and raised his eyebrows, mouth hung open in a smile with his tongue in his cheek.
“See something you like, sweetheart?” Eddie grinned, watching as your eyes flashed back over to his face. You knew he was painfully hard by now as well, and you felt yourself salivate at the idea of the two of them using you to sate their lust.
“Y-You…” you breathed out shakily, heat building in your core again as you pressed your thighs together. “Both of you, um,” you bit your lip as your gaze traveled between them, “can I… help?”
Steve’s eyebrows rose, “I mean, you really don’t have to--”
“No, it’s okay,” you reassured him, crawling towards him and looking up at him through your long lashes as you placed a hand on his thigh, “I want to.”
You heard Steve’s breath hitch in his throat as he looked over to your boyfriend who was twirling a curl around his finger absentmindedly while he watched you intently. “You… You want both of us?”
You felt the blood rush to your face, losing some of your spontaneous bravado. “Um, actually,” you began, turning to Robin who quirked an eyebrow at you as you chewed on your lip, “I want all three of you.”
Robin froze for a moment, mulling the thought over in her mind. “O-Okay,” she agreed, “but only if you two,” she pointed at Steve and Eddie with a warning look, “agree to not, um, stare? I refuse to be some boy’s lesbian wet dream.”
Steve put his hands up in mock surrender. “At this point, that would just be weird,” he chuckled, “I’m only in this for her,” he admitted as he stared into your eyes, full of lust as he openly ogled your body right in front of him as you stroked your thumb on his leg.
“That goes without saying for me,” Eddie added, giving Steve a playful punch on the shoulder, “although I’d be lying if I said I didn’t wanna see what Harrington’s packing.”
“Dude,” Steve turned his head and looked at him incredulously, and Eddie gave him an innocent shrug as he snickered.
Robin chuckled, relieved as she turned back to you, “Looks like we’re all on the same page then.” She gave you a sultry, almost predatory glance that was so unlike her usual demeanor you couldn’t help but shudder under her gaze.
Steve took your hand in his as he stood up, dragging you up with him as he placed his other at the small of your back and pulled you flush against him. He was every bit as toned as you had expected him to be as your hands came to rest on his chest, and his cock pressed into your stomach deliciously through his trunks. His eyes darted back and forth between yours, his lips parted as his face hovered only inches away from you. Robin was close behind, her hands on your hips as she pressed into you in much the same as you had done to her earlier, her breasts flattened against your back as she kissed at the crook of your neck. You moaned breathily as Steve ran his index finger along the lower curve of your spine.
Eddie approached the three of you, cupping your cheek gently as he turned your face towards him and kissed you tenderly. When he pulled away, he gazed into your eyes with such love and trust that you couldn’t help but smile softly at him, whispering, “I love you.”
“I love you too, gorgeous,” he replied, giving you a wink. “Now, how about we take this somewhere more comfortable?”
Loki Laufeyson x Original Female Character (reader)
Ratings/Tags: Explicit. Fluff, angst, smut. Mentions of sexual abuse (not done by main characters), trauma, and thoughts of suicide. Action, fight sequences, gore.
This entire series is inspired by songs. The complete playlist could be found here on Spotify.
(⚡ Action Sequence) (💋 Smut) (💢 Angst / Trauma) (🎶 Song Fics) (👑 My favorites)
Season 1
Chapter 01 | One, Two, Fly 🎶
Chapter 02 | Grrrl, Like ⚡
| Grrrl, Like (part 2) 👑⚡
Chapter 03 | You Should See Me In A Crown
| You Should See Me In A Crown (part 2) 👑⚡
Chapter 04 | Wildest Dreams 🎶
Chapter 05 | Coffee
Chapter 06 | Positions 🎶
Chapter 07 | Man With The Horn 🎶
Chapter 08 | Sugar
Chapter 09 | Swim 💋
Chapter 10 | Woman 💢
Chapter 11 | Goddess 💢
Chapter 12 | Six-Inch Heels 👑💋🎶
Chapter 13 | Crush 💢
Chapter 14 | Flashing Lights 👑💋🎶
Season 2
Chapter 15 | Put On Repeat 💋🎶
Chapter 16 | Boys Like You 💋
Chapter 17 | Brother
Chapter 18 | Do It For Me 💋
Chapter 19 | Feel It 👑💋
Chapter 20 | Elastic Heart
Chapter 21 | Destiny ⚡💢🎶
Chapter 22 | Darkside Of The Moon 💢
Chapter 23 | The Ruler and The Killer ⚡
Chapter 24 | Local God 💋
Chapter 25 | If You Let Me 💋
Chapter 26 | So This Is Love 👑
Chapter 27 | Heavy In Your Arms 💢
Chapter 28 | Leading Us Along ⚡💢
Chapter 29 | Demons ⚡💢
Chapter 30 | I'm So Sick ⚡💢🎶
Chapter 31 | Misguided Ghosts ⚡💢
Chapter 32 | War With Heaven 💢
Chapter 33 | Love Like You 🎶
Chapter 34 | Mine 👑💋
strictly 18+ only // all content warnings can be found on each link
forewarning: obviously the voices aren’t going to sound exactly like the actors / characters so I’ve gone more for how the vibes and attitudes fit with the characters, you’ll just have to use your imagination tbh my darlings!!
most of these are intended for female / afab listeners
other than that go wild and happy listening my babies <3
Eddie Munson
cute goofy Eddie learning to dom
blowing shy virgin Eddie at a party
switch! Eddie wants to make you feel good
waking you up by eating you out
more switch! Eddie, dom then sub
pegging tied up Eddie
grinding on him whilst he works
Eddie being goofy and cuddly leading to a makeout session
getting fucked by the dungeon master
listening to Eddie jerk off
Steve Harrington
teasing you (fwb situation)
fucking you in a sundress in the middle of a park
jealous dom Steve
makeup sex with jealous Steve
Steve dirty talking and teasing you
voyeuristic Steve watching you get yourself off
Billy Hargrove
Billy gets you back for being a brat all day
putting you in your place (degradation)
Billy gets possessive when you wear your ex’s shirt
you get jealous so Billy reminds you you’re his
Billy’s jealous over your new roommate
Billy commanding and degrading you
Robin Buckley
friends to lovers, sharing a bed
shower sex with Robin
Robin wakes you up to fuck you
your first time with Robin
Robin helping you forget about your boyfriend
spending your day off in bed with Robin
experimenting, your first time with a girl
Robin worshipping your pussy
Nancy Wheeler
morning sex with Nancy
Nancy teaches you how to please her
more morning sex with Nancy
sharing a tent with Nancy
Nancy touching herself next to you until you wake up
Jonathan Byers
trying to be (soft) dom for the first time
needy sub Jonathan
first time with shy Jonathan
Jonathan isn’t getting the hint, so you take charge
riding devoted sub Jonathan after a stressful day
link to search website yourself
main masterlist // stranger things masterlist
p.s. I will keep adding more as and when I find them / when they’re sent to me <3
on that note, if you find any you think would fit the characters please do feel free to send them my way so I can add them to the list!!
