Layla

God bless america and all the beautiful woman in it.

[pinkpearledswan]

The angels guide (masterlist)

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

more is to come angels don't worry! my requests are open if you have something specific you would like me to write!!! idk why its labeling it as "mature content?" 𓆩♱𓆪

robin buckley

"i wanna be your girlfriend" You and Robin have been friends since forever, but robin has slowly been viewing you in a different perspective. Pushing her feelings down, too scared to ruin what you’ve already got. When she slowly gives in…do you feel the same? Based on the girl in red song.

"Johanna" A longing love that feels unrequited. Having so many feeling yet can't tell if the other feels the same way? Based on the suki waterhouse song Johanna.

𓆩♱𓆪

steve harrington

but when? A silent suffering that turns into being caught in a trance. Impatiently waiting for it to happen, just to do it yourself. You get possessed by Vecna. Too scared to tell anyone you have all the symptoms, but Steve knows. And he's not letting you go.

Still (coming soon)

Everything just seems to be going downhill in your life. You try to hide it from everyone and tell yourself this is how he shows he loves you, but everything slowly builds up and the dam breaks.

[oohgeminii]

you seem pretty happy for a girl so single?

steve harrington x reader

|| desc - steve is well and truly in love with you, he always has been, but you couldn't seem less interested in his eyes. this leads him to think you must just be immune to his charm (impossible) or fine being single. truth is you're neither of those things, your simply oblivious, as is he too apparently.

val speaks - get it get it i did a spin on 'you seem pretty sad for a girl so in love' haa so funny basically just excited for this album 😋😋 enjoy babas !! ++ this is another steve fic without much of the actual stranger things plot (as in the upside down) bc i loved the one i did like that the other day he he

basically a childhood friends to lovers even tho they've secretly always been lovers slowburn w some cluelessness 😁

word count: 8.3k

the first thing anyone ever knew about steve harrington was that he was loud.

not loud in volume, though he could be, especially when he laughed so hard milk came out of his nose at age eight because you told him the punchline to a joke wrong on purpose, but loud in presence.

even as a little boy, steve had always seemed to fill every room he walked into, every backyard he ran through, every sidewalk he skidded his bike tires across. he was all scraped knees and crooked grins, wild hair that never sat flat no matter how much water he slapped on it, and a habit of speaking before he thought, then somehow charming his way out of whatever trouble that got him into.

and somehow, from the very beginning, wherever steve was, you were too.

your mothers liked to joke that before either of you could even walk, you’d already claimed each other. two little babies in matching sun hats sitting in paddling pools in neighbouring gardens, grabbing at each other’s hands with sticky fingers and refusing to settle unless you were side by side. apparently, steve used to cry when your parents took you inside for naps, little fists clenched, cheeks red, angry at the universe for daring to separate him from his favourite person.

some things never really changed.

you grew up attached at the hip in the kind of way people only are when history roots itself so deep between them that pulling apart would feel like tearing skin.

you learned to ride bikes together, both of you wobbling dangerously down your street while your dads shouted instructions that neither of you listened to.

steve crashed first, straight into a hedge, and you laughed so hard you tipped over too. he came out with leaves in his hair and a branch caught in his shirt collar, grinning like an idiot, and before he even checked his own scraped elbow, he was kneeling beside you asking if you were okay.

that was steve.

always checking for you first.

there were summers spent so thoroughly tangled together they blurred into one endless golden memory.

afternoons in his parents’ pool until your fingers wrinkled and your skin smelled permanently of chlorine, competitions to see who could hold their breath longest underwater, cannonball contests that ended with his mother yelling because water splashed onto her expensive outdoor furniture.

nights where you slept over so often that both houses stopped asking questions, your toothbrush permanently living in the bathroom connected to steve’s bedroom, one of his old shirts becoming your designated pyjama top.

you built blanket forts in his room and swore they were castles. you made secret handshakes that changed every month. you whispered under covers with flashlights when thunderstorms rolled in, talking about stupid things and serious things and everything in between.

you saw every side of each other.

the ugly sides too.

you saw steve cry the first time his dad called him a disappointment.

you saw him go quiet after, quieter than should’ve been possible for a boy like him, shoulders tense and eyes glassy as he sat on your bedroom floor staring at nothing.

you sat beside him and said nothing at all, just leaned your shoulder against his until he leaned back.

that became your thing.

when his parents fought, he came to your house.

when his father got cruel, he came to your house.

when business trips left that giant empty house colder than winter, he stayed at your house, eating dinner at your table and laughing with your parents like he belonged there, because he did.

your mother kissed the top of his head when he looked especially worn down, your father taught him how to fix things in the garage.

your home became the place he exhaled and you became the person he always looked for first.

always.

through bad haircuts and braces and acne and awkward limbs that grew too fast for your bodies to catch up, you stayed constant.

until high school came and suddenly, painfully, neither of you were awkward anymore.

you grew into yourself quietly, like spring unfolding. pretty in a way that didn’t scream for attention, but stole it anyway.

soft eyes that noticed everything. a laugh that was rarer now, but warm enough to make people chase it. intelligence that shone bright and effortless. kindness that lived in every small thing you did. helping someone pick up dropped books, remembering birthdays nobody else did, always offering your notes to the kids who missed class.

you were beautiful in the sort of way people didn’t fully understand until they looked twice.

steve understood immediately.

and steve, god, steve grew into himself like he’d been handcrafted for trouble.

broad shoulders. soft brown eyes hidden behind ridiculous lashes. hair that somehow always looked perfect. that stupid smile capable of making half the female population of hawkins forget their own names.

and steve knew it.

or at least, his ego did.

king steve, they called him.

captain of popularity.

girls hanging off his arm, boys desperate for his approval, parties every weekend. loud music, expensive beer stolen from his parents’ liquor cabinet, people packed into his house hoping to breathe the same air as him.

he played the part beautifully.

cocky grin, easy charm, careless laughter, pretty girls, empty conversations. but there were things everyone noticed that nobody understood.

how steve only went to parties if you were invited too, even when you almost never came. how he always looked around rooms like he was searching for someone. how if anybody talked badly about you, even as a joke, his entire face changed. how he got mean.

how no girl, no matter how gorgeous, ever lasted long.

how every relationship seemed flimsy compared to the quiet girl who sat beside him in class helping him pass english, who rolled her eyes at his jokes but smiled anyway, who knew where he kept spare house keys and which scar on his knee came from which childhood disaster.

what nobody knew was that steve harrington loved you so badly it ached.

it lived in him like breathing. natural, constant, unavoidable. it was in the way he memorised everything about you.

how you tucked your hair behind your ear when concentrating. how you chewed on pen caps while studying. how you always gave him the marshmallows from your hot chocolate because you hated them and he loved them. how your nose scrunched when you laughed for real. how you never noticed when boys stared because you were too busy living inside your own head.

it killed him a little, that obliviousness.

because steve flirted constantly.

he tested waters in stupid ways.

telling you about girls he hooked up with, watching your face for any crack in your expression.

there never was one.

just your soft, distracted little hums. sometimes a wrinkled nose if the girl sounded awful. sometimes advice.

advice.

jesus christ.

he’d stare at you, really stare, eyes warm and helpless and completely gone for you, and you’d blink back like he was just steve.

just your steve.

your best friend.

meanwhile, he was halfway to insanity.

what steve never saw were all the quiet ways you loved him back.

how you kept every note he’d ever scribbled you. how no boy ever compared, which was why you’d only dated twice and barely liked either of them. how every time he brought a girl around, something sharp and sour twisted in your chest. how you knew the exact shade of hazel his eyes turned in sunlight.

how you sometimes laid awake at night, staring at your ceiling, replaying the way he smiled at you that day or how his hand rested warm on your back guiding you through crowds.

how your mother’s teasing words looped endlessly in your head.

you and stevie were made for each other.

you’d laugh it off, call her crazy, then spend hours wondering if maybe she wasn’t. wondering if steve could ever look at you and see more.

wondering what it would feel like if he kissed you. wondering if kissing steve would ruin everything, or finally make sense of everything that already existed between you.

and every morning after, you’d wake up and slip right back into your place beside him like those thoughts had never happened at all.

best friends.

always.

completely blind to the fact that the boy beside you was one heartbeat away from loving you out loud.

and equally blind to the fact that you already loved him too.

-

life carried on the way it always had.

which was strange, really, considering there was this constant thing sitting between you and steve. neither of you touched it, neither of you spoke it aloud, but it lived there all the same. tucked into glances that lingered too long, into hugs that held just a second more than necessary, into the easy way your lives folded around each other like they were built to fit.

more days turned into more weeks, more weeks into more months, and everything stayed beautifully, painfully normal.

you still sat with him while he copied your homework answers in that messy handwriting of his, tongue poking slightly into his cheek in concentration like he was actually trying, even though half the time he was writing complete nonsense because he was too busy talking to focus.

you still spent lunches together. sometimes alone, sometimes with your few close friends, sometimes with whatever crowd steve had orbiting him that week, but even in a room full of people, his attention always drifted back to you.

always.

you were still the first number he called. still the person he showed up for without asking. still the person he looked for in every crowded room.

and he was still yours in all the ways that mattered, without ever actually being yours at all.

one night after dinner at your house, your mother insisting steve stay because she’d made too much food, as if she hadn’t been cooking with him in mind from the start, the two of you found yourselves in your bedroom, exactly where you always ended up.

lying on the floor.

side by side.

staring at the ceiling.

it was a strange little ritual you’d created years ago, one that somehow stuck. whenever something weighed heavy on either of you, whenever thoughts got too loud or life got too complicated, you ended up here. flat on your backs, shoulders nearly touching, eyes aimed upward like answers might be written in the cracks of your ceiling paint.

this was where the real conversations happened.

not the casual chatter, not gossip, not jokes, this was where truths lived. the ugly ones, the tender ones, the ones neither of you gave anybody else.

steve let out a long breath beside you, one hand resting on his stomach, the other tucked behind his head.

“he’s doing it again.”

you turned your head slightly toward him.

“your dad?”

he laughed once, humourless.

“who else?”

his jaw tightened, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

“he’s on this whole thing about how i need to start learning the business now, so when he retires i can just… step in.” his voice hardened around the words. “like it’s some fucking honour.”

you stayed quiet.

you’d learned years ago that steve needed space to unravel before he needed comfort.

“he talks about it like he’s handing me a kingdom,” he muttered. “when really he’s handing me a prison sentence.”

your chest tightened.

because underneath the bitterness, underneath the anger, you heard what steve wasn’t saying.

he was scared, scared of becoming him. scared of looking in the mirror one day and seeing his father staring back.

steve scrubbed a hand over his face.

“i swear to god, i’d rather work in some shitty grocery store for the rest of my life than do what he does.”

that made you smile softly.

not because it was funny, though the dramatic way he said it was very steve, but because you knew him.

you knew this wasn’t about business being boring this was about morality. about goodness. about the way steve, despite all his pretending and ego and polished king-of-hawkins image, had the softest heart of anybody you knew.

he wanted to be kind, gentle. different. nothing like the man who’d raised him.

you reached your hand out between you, your pinky brushing lightly against his.

“what do you actually want?” you asked quietly.

“what?”

“after high school.” you looked back up at the ceiling. “college. life. what do you want, stevie?”

the room went quiet for a second, then two. then he laughed softly under his breath. not a happy laugh, the sad kind.

the self-deprecating kind.

“college?” he scoffed. “c’mon.”

you frowned instantly.

“don’t do that.”

“do what?”

“act like you’re stupid.”

he turned his head to look at you then, brown eyes soft in the dim lamp light.

“i’m not exactly ivy league material.”

“you’re smarter than you think.”

“i’m really not.”

“you are.”

there was firmness in your voice now, the kind that always made him listen.

“you just don’t try because somewhere along the line, somebody convinced you there was no point.”

his expression shifted. small, almost wounded, because you always saw right through him.

always.

you kept going, softer now.

“you’re smart, steve. genuinely smart. not even just academically, you read people better than anyone i know. you remember everything that matters. you’re creative. funny. emotionally intelligent, even if you pretend you aren’t.” you nudged his shoulder gently. “and if i have to spend the rest of my life reminding you of that, i will.”

steve stared at you and god, there was that look again. that look that made your stomach turn over.

warm, completely devastating. then, because he was steve, he ruined the moment on purpose.

“well,” he sighed dramatically, “in that case, i’ll just follow you wherever you go.”

you snorted.

“oh yeah?”

“absolutely.” he folded his hands over his chest. “be your little house wife.”

that made you laugh properly.

bright and sudden.

the kind of laugh that always made him smile like he’d won something.

“house wife?”

“yeah.”

“you?”

“i’d be incredible at it.”

“you can’t cook.”

“i can make toast.”

“you burn toast.”

“crispy toast.”

you laughed harder and soon he was laughing too, that big, warm laugh that filled your whole room.

then the laughter settled into something softer. comfortable quiet. and somewhere in that quiet, the strange truth of it hung there,

every version of the future either of you had ever imagined always included the other. always.

sometimes you were neighbours with houses connected by a garden gate. sometimes coworkers. sometimes roommates in a big city. sometimes pen pals, a ridiculous idea born from sixteen-year-old steve drunkenly declaring he was moving to italy after eating pasta he called religious.

you still teased him for that.

but every dream, every joke, every passing thought about what came next, included us.

never 'me'. never 'you'. always us.

neither of you spoke about the deeper version of that dream.

the one with shared mornings. shared beds. children with messy hair and stubborn attitudes. a home that belonged equally to both of you.

but somewhere, buried deep, you’d both imagined it.

more than once.

steve swallowed hard against that thought.

then casually, too casually, he asked,

“how come you’re still single?”

you turned your head.

“you’re single too.”

a slow smirk spread across his mouth.

“yeah, but i haven’t always been.”

you rolled your eyes.

“neither have i.”

“middle school boyfriends don’t count.”

you laughed.

“according to who?”

“according to me.”

you shook your head, smiling, then shrugged.

“i don’t know.”

and that answer sat strangely warm in steve’s chest.

because maybe, maybe you liked being single. maybe there was nobody. maybe it wasn’t that you didn’t want him specifically.

weirdly, that hurt less.

he smiled faintly, staring back up at the ceiling.

then you asked quietly,

“why haven’t you settled down with anyone?”

his chest tightened because there were a thousand truths he could say. because i’m in love with my best friend. because nobody feels like you. because every girl i kiss isn’t you.

instead, he shrugged.

“i don’t know.”

and selfishly, your heart liked that answer far more than the possibility of him loving somebody else.

silence settled again.

then steve spoke, voice quieter than before, serious,

“promise me something.”

“anything.”

he turned his head toward you.

there was vulnerability there, raw and boyish and achingly honest.

“don’t forget me.”

your brows pulled together instantly.

“steve-”

“i mean it.” he swallowed. “when all this ends. when college happens, life happens… if we end up in different places…” his voice got softer. “don’t forget about me.”

your whole chest ached because forgetting steve harrington would be like forgetting your own name.

impossible.

you reached across the floor and took his hand fully. fingers threading together like second nature. like instinct. like home.

you squeezed once.

“never” you whispered.

and steve squeezed back, holding your hand in the dark like it was something precious.

something worth keeping.

“promise?”

you smiled softly.

“i promise.”

neither of you realised then just how much that promise would come to mean.

-

by the time prom season rolled around, steve was losing his goddamn mind.

he sat at the edge of his bed one night, elbows on his knees, staring blankly at the carpet while every thought in his head somehow circled back to you.

which, admittedly, wasn’t unusual. most roads in steve’s mind led to you, had for years.

but this was different, this was bigger.

this was prom.

the last school dance.

the final stupid, sweaty gymnasium decorated with cheap streamers and glitter and songs that would probably suck and punch that tasted vaguely like chemicals.

and steve wanted one thing.

just one.

you.

not in the way he’d had you before. showing up together because that’s what you always did, wandering in side by side because steve bringing you was as natural as breathing, dancing stupidly together in between him getting dragged off by friends and you laughing at him from the sidelines.

not as best friends.

not as what everyone already assumed you were.

he wanted to take you, really take you.

wanted to stand on your doorstep with flowers and nerves and sweaty palms. wanted to tell you you looked beautiful and mean it so hard it hurt. wanted to dance with his hands on your waist and know it meant something different.

wanted one night where he could pretend, or maybe, if he got lucky, not pretend at all.

so he came up with a plan.

a stupid plan. a deeply embarrassing plan. a plan that, in hindsight, made him want to throw himself directly into traffic.

he was going to make it obvious.

not say it, because apparently despite being steve harrington, king of confidence, he became a complete coward when it came to you, but obvious enough.

obvious enough that if you smiled a little wider than usual, blushed even slightly, acted flustered in any way he’d ask you.

simple. easy. foolproof.

except it was none of those things.

because monday morning, the second he pulled into your driveway, he already started acting insane.

normally, steve would pull up, lean dramatically on the horn once, and wait while you came out rolling your eyes.

his logic always being, your house is right there, you can hear the horn when i get in the car.

instead, that morning, he got out. walked to your front door. and knocked. actually knocked.

when you opened it, bag over your shoulder, hair still slightly messy from rushing around getting ready, he nearly forgot every coherent thought in his head.

you blinked at him then squinted suspiciously.

“…why are you at my door?”

he immediately panicked internally.

say something cool.

say something normal.

“felt like it.”

idiot.

your eyes narrowed further, mouth twitching like you were fighting a smile.

“okay…”

you kept looking at him funny all the way to the car, and honestly, fair enough.

but then he made it worse.

because when you reached the passenger side, he darted ahead and opened your door for you.

you stopped dead.

“what are you doing?”

steve leaned against the open door casually, like he wasn’t having a full body crisis.

“being nice?”

you laughed softly, confused and amused all at once.

“you are nice.”

“being nicer.”

you stared at him for a second then shook your head, smiling to yourself as you got in. that smile hit him like a truck.

holy shit.

was that wider than normal? was that flirty? was that polite?

what did that mean-

and thus began the longest week of steve harrington’s life.

because once he started, he couldn’t stop.

every class you didn’t share, he was waiting outside when the bell rang.

leaning against lockers trying to look casual, heart kicking up every time your face lit up when you saw him.

he carried your books.

your bag.

once, your stupid heavy history textbook that you always complained about.

he held doors open.

walked you to every class.

blew off tommy and half his friend group every lunch just to sit with you.

actually did his half of your joint assignment, not copied, not barely attempted, actually did it, and when you looked at him like he’d grown another head, he just shrugged like it was no big deal while internally screaming notice me.

he bought you lunch monday.

again on wednesday.

again on thursday.

sat in the library with you after school willingly.

willingly. the library.

for hours.

and every single thing you did made his brain short circuit.

because you just accepted it. completely. you didn’t question him much, didn’t pull away, didn’t act weird, didn’t reject any of it. you simply smiled that sweet little smile and let him fuss over you.

let him carry your things. let him buy your lunch. let him walk you around school like you were something precious.

and worst of all you looked happy about it. which should’ve been good. right? that should’ve been good.

except now steve was spiralling because what the hell did happy mean?

did you know what he was doing? were you oblivious? were you pitying him? were you just enjoying the attention?

meanwhile, you were living in your own version of insanity.

because steve had always made you feel special.

always.

from childhood to now, there had never been a moment where you doubted your place in his life.

but this?

this was different. this was soft, intentional. sweet in ways that made your stomach flip.

it felt suspiciously like being courted. like being wanted. like being his girl.

and god you liked it. liked it so much it scared you. so no, you didn’t question it. because if you asked, what if it stopped? what if he laughed and said he was just messing around? what if this tenderness disappeared?

so instead, you quietly soaked it in.

let yourself pretend just for a little while. let yourself imagine this was what loving steve openly might feel like.

which meant steve’s giant, ridiculous plan was failing spectacularly for one very simple reason-

the both of you were idiots.

by friday, steve was at breaking point.

he sat in his last class barely hearing a word the teacher said, knee bouncing under the desk.

what the hell was happening? surely by now, if you liked him, you would’ve said something. asked him what all this meant. given him something obvious back.

right?

unless you didn’t like him. unless you just thought he was being nice. unless this was normal to you because he’d always treated you well and you saw no difference.

jesus christ.

he’d spent an entire week acting like a lovesick freak and somehow ended up more confused than when he started.

the final bell rang and steve made a decision.

enough.

no more weird signals, no more spiralling, no more stupid plans.

he was asking you tonight.

flat out.

whatever happened, happened because he was absolutely not surviving another week of this.

what steve didn’t know was that at that exact same moment, sitting in class chewing the end of your pen and smiling stupidly to yourself remembering how he tucked your hair behind your ear at lunch you were thinking,

please don’t stop whatever this is.

please let me keep having this version of you.

even if it’s not real.

even if it’s only for a little while.

-

steve waited outside your last class.

again.

at this point, it had become routine. somewhere in his ridiculous attempt at flirting came a habit he’d accidentally fallen in love with.

there was just something about it.

the way your face always softened the second you spotted him leaning against the lockers. the little smile you never seemed able to hold back. the way you automatically walked toward him, like your feet knew where they belonged before your brain caught up.

it made something warm settle in his chest every single time.

so yes, even if his original reasons for waiting outside your classes had been pathetic and embarrassingly romantic, now he did it simply because he liked it.

liked being the person you looked for, liked walking beside you through crowded halls, liked carrying your books even when you insisted they “weren’t heavy.”

liked the feeling of everyone seeing you together.

he liked it far too much.

that friday, though, he was restless.

you noticed almost immediately.

the way his fingers tapped against his leg. the way his jaw kept tightening. the way he kept opening his mouth like he wanted to say something, only to close it again.

still, you didn’t ask.

if there was one thing years of knowing steve harrington had taught you, it was that when he was ready to talk, he would.

until then, you let silence be comfortable.

and it always was with him.

the drive home was dipped in golden evening light, quiet except for the radio humming softly in the background and the occasional sound of steve drumming his thumbs against the steering wheel.

when he took a corner too fast his hand instinctively shot out, catching your thigh for a second to steady you.

warm, solid, gone too quickly.

neither of you said anything but your stomach flipped anyway.

when he pulled up between your houses, you reached for the door handle-

“wait.”

your hand froze.

you turned back.

steve looked terrified, actually terrified.

your heart immediately started hammering.

oh my god.

oh my god.

was he-

this was it. this had to be it.

the weird week, the sweet gestures, the way he’d been looking at you, the way he’d been hovering close like he couldn’t help himself-

this was him asking you to prom.

your whole body went warm.

steve swallowed hard. right. just say it.

say prom.

“do you wanna go prom-”

your breath caught.

his heart launched into his throat.

“-dress shopping with me?”

silence.

steve internally punched himself in the face.

coward. absolute coward.

you blinked.

then laughed softly, trying to ignore how quickly hope had risen and crashed in your chest.

“are you getting a dress this year too, stevie?”

he huffed a little laugh, looking down, shaking his head.

“no, i mean…” he rubbed the back of his neck. “y’know, i’ll drive us to the city. we can get all fancy and buy expensive shit we probably don’t need. get ice cream on the way home.”

he looked up at you then.

hopeful. boyish.

impossibly handsome.

you smiled, a real one.

“that sounds nice.”

his shoulders loosened instantly.

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

you opened the door, stepping out, then turned back with a grin.

“it’s a date.”

and walked away.

steve sat frozen in his car.

date.

date?

did you mean date date?

or date as in phrase?

people said that all the time.

right?

right??

he smacked his forehead gently against the steering wheel.

meanwhile, halfway to your front door, you were spiralling too.

why would you say it’s a date? why would you say that?

that sounds romantic. that sounds intentional. he’s going to think you meant it romantically.

except he doesn’t like you.

probably.

so now you sound insane.

great.

perfect.

wonderful.

still, somehow, both of you went to bed smiling because stupid was easier when it felt this good.

-

nice and early the next morning, steve was at your door.

knocking.

again.

except this time when you opened it, you were very much not ready.

hair wild, sleep still heavy in your eyes, oversized sleep shirt hanging off one shoulder, soft pyjama shorts, bare legs and sleepy confusion.

steve forgot how breathing worked.

you frowned at him.

“why are you here?”

his brain completely short circuited.

“…shopping.”

you groaned.

“shit.”

you looked over your shoulder at the clock and winced.

“i overslept.”

steve finally recovered enough to shrug casually.

“i’ll wait.”

he walked past you like he belonged there, because he did, headed straight to your room, kicked off his shoes, and threw himself face down onto your bed.

dramatically, arms spread, muffled voice immediately rambling into your duvet.

“had the weirdest dream last night.”

you stood at your mirror trying to brush your hair while pulling on jeans.

“what?”

more muffled nonsense.

something about a shark. your third grade teacher. a ferrari. possibly italy.

you laughed.

“i understood none of that.”

he lifted his face slightly, cheek squished against your pillow.

“it made sense in dream logic.”

“sure.”

then face planted again, continuing to ramble while you got ready, his voice muffled into your blankets.

it was domestic in a way neither of you thought too hard about.

easy, dangerously easy.

soon enough, you were in the car headed toward the city.

the windows down, music loud. summer warmth creeping in. you stopped at a roadside place for breakfast sandwiches, then got back on the road. where steve immediately became unbearable.

“bite.”

you looked at him.

“…what?”

“feed me.”

“you have hands.”

“i’m driving. i need to concentrate.”

you stared.

he opened his mouth expectantly.

“bite.”

your eyes narrowed, he looked ridiculous.

you hated how cute it was.

with a sigh, you held the sandwich up for him. he leaned over dramatically, taking a huge bite, cheeks full like a chipmunk.

you laughed despite yourself.

“you’re such an idiot.”

secretly, steve loved the little annoyed crease between your brows. loved making you roll your eyes. loved that you always indulged him anyway.

shopping somehow started with your dress.

steve had expected torture. hours of standing around, fabric talk, waiting, boredom.

instead he got to watch you try on dresses, which was apparently heaven. every single dress had him losing his mind quietly.

blue. green. white. sparkly. simple. dramatic.

even the absolutely hideous monstrosity he tossed into your pile as a joke, some bright orange ruffled nightmare, looked unfairly cute because you came out striking poses and making ridiculous model faces until he laughed so hard he nearly cried.

“that one?” you asked, spinning.

“burn it.”

you grinned.

but then you stepped out wearing soft baby pink.

simple, elegant, gentle, completely you, and steve forgot how to speak.

you looked beautiful.

not pretty, not cute, beautiful. the kind that hurt to look at because it made wanting feel too big inside his chest.

you smiled shyly at your reflection.

“i kinda love this one.”

steve could only nod.

because if he opened his mouth, he’d probably propose.

when you disappeared back into the changing room after trying on the final dress, leaving the pink dress hanging outside, steve moved instantly.

straight to the register.

money down.

done.

easy.

when the cashier smiled warmly and said, “that’s sweet- paying for your girlfriend’s prom dress”

steve didn’t even think, didn’t correct her, just smiled softly.

“yeah.”

the word slipped out naturally like truth. he walked back holding the dress bag proudly. when you emerged and saw it, your face scrunched instantly.

“steve harrington-”

“don’t start.”

“i told you i was buying it-”

he shrugged, smiling.

“it’s our last prom, princess. gotta treat you right.”

princess. that stupid nickname. it hit you exactly where it always did.

that awful lovely feeling.

but you’d become very good at hiding it so you only rolled your eyes.

“you’re ridiculous.”

“and generous.”

“annoyingly generous.”

“you love me.”

you smiled softly.

“yeah.”

the quiet honesty of it made his chest tighten because you meant it one way and he heard it another.

then he grinned, standing.

“c’mon.”

you looped your arm through his without thinking.

“your turn.”

shopping for steve’s suit was, thankfully, much quicker.

mostly because he cared significantly less than you did.

he tried on maybe three jackets, two pairs of trousers, one shirt, then stood in front of the mirror shrugging like, yeah, this one’s fine, while you looked at him like he’d lost his mind.

“fine?” you repeated.

steve adjusted the collar lazily. “yeah.”

“fine is your final prom outfit?”

he looked down at himself.

navy suit. clean lines, fitted enough to make his shoulders look unfairly broad. white shirt, sleeves rolled halfway while he changed ties.

hair slightly messy from pulling shirts over his head.

beautiful, unfortunately.

he shrugged again.

“looks good enough.”

you stared.

“good enough” you echoed flatly.

his grin only widened “mhm.”

but then, then he did something so stupidly sweet that your entire brain briefly stopped functioning.

the woman helping fit him asked what colour tie he wanted, before she could even list options, steve answered immediately.

“baby pink.”

you blinked.

he looked over at you casually.

“to match your dress.”

simple, matter-of-fact. like it was obvious. like there was never another option.

to match your dress.

your heart practically punched through your ribs because it was little things. always little things with steve. the details, the quiet thoughtfulness, the instinctive way he always included you in everything.

the way matching your dress mattered to him.

not because it was prom, not because it was fashion, but because it was yours.

you stood there smiling like an idiot while he tried on ties, your mind spiralling somewhere far, far away.

and honestly?

you barely paid attention to anything else after that.

just him.

his hands fixing his cuffs, his soft smile when he caught you staring, the way he kept glancing toward you for approval.

god.

you were in trouble. deep trouble.

when you guys got in the car both taking a deep breath, pausing before the long drive home, you stopped him.

“steve?”

his hand froze on the key.

“yeah?”

your heart hammered.

this was insane, absolutely insane but suddenly you couldn’t keep waiting, couldn’t keep wondering. couldn’t keep pretending every soft thing between you didn’t mean something.

so you looked at him and did exactly what he’d been trying to do all week.

“do you wanna go to prom with me?”

steve blinked.

once.

twice.

“…what?”

you smiled nervously.

“prom.”

he laughed softly, confused.

“we always go together.”

you swallowed then forced yourself to say it.

“i mean… properly with me, steve.”

his entire body went still, heart pounding so hard he could hear it.

“what?”

god.

he looked so confused, so beautiful.

and suddenly courage, reckless, terrifying courage, grabbed hold of you. you leaned forward and kissed him.

soft, quick.

the second your lips touched his, your whole body lit up like lightning.

then panic immediately followed.

oh god.

what did you just do?

you pulled back instantly, mouth already opening to explain, apologise, ramble, but steve’s hand came up, cupping your cheek.

warm, gentle, and he pulled you right back in.

kissed you properly.

like he’d been starving. like he knew exactly what your lips would feel like because he’d imagined it a thousand times, but somehow it was still better.

so much better.

you could actually feel him melt, his whole body softened into it and then, that little sound.

a quiet sigh against your mouth.

soft, content, completely helpless. it shot straight into your chest. your new favourite sound. absolutely.

when he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, breathing hard, smiling in complete disbelief.

then he said-

“i hate you.”

your eyes flew open.

“…what?”

he laughed breathlessly.

“i have been waiting my whole life for you to show literally any sign that you liked me.” he pulled back enough to look at you, eyes wide with mock offence. “and the one week i actually decide to try and something about it, you beat me to it.”

you burst out laughing then he did too, forehead dropping back against yours. then suddenly he leaned back fully, staring at you like you were insane.

“no, seriously- what?”

you blinked.

“what?”

“why now?”

you shrugged, cheeks warm.

“i’ve always liked you, stevie.”

steve’s jaw actually dropped.

“what?”

you laughed.

“i’ve always liked you.”

“then why didn’t you say anything?!”

you gave him a look.

“why didn’t you?”

he stared at you like the answer was obvious.

“because you never acted like you wanted me back. ever.”

you frowned.

“maybe you’re oblivious.”

steve scoffed so hard it was almost offensive then gave you the most irritated look imaginable.

“i do not wanna hear you call anybody oblivious. you are the most oblivious person alive.”

you gasped.

“no i’m not.”

“yes, you are.”

“i’m cautious.”

“cautious of what?”

you went quieter then.

honest.

“reading too far into things.” your fingers picked at your sleeve. “you could’ve just been being nice, y’know? i didn’t wanna lose you.”

steve’s whole face softened instantly.

his hand found yours.

squeezed.

“in no world do you lose me, idiot.”

your eyes rolled automatically, mostly because if you looked at him too long you might cry.

then, lighter, you said,

“been waiting your whole life?” you smiled. “dramatic ass.”

he laughed then shook his head.

“no, i’m serious.”

“right.”

“i am.”

“okay, sure-”

before you could argue, he grabbed your face again and kissed you hard. full of grin and relief and years of built-up wanting.

when he pulled back, he was smiling so wide his cheeks hurt.

“and yeah,” he murmured. “i’ll go to prom with you.”

he winked.

“it’s a date.”

you groaned, laughing.

“that line was awful.”

“worked the first time.”

you shoved his shoulder.

he caught your hand, kissed your knuckles and then finally started the car.

the drive home was spent sharing ice cream, stealing kisses at red lights, and smiling so much both your faces hurt.

and when he parked between your houses that evening for the first time going home next door didn’t feel like enough.

because now, finally, you knew exactly where home was.

and it was sitting in the driver’s seat, smiling at you like he’d found his whole world.

-

the week leading up to prom was, quite possibly, the happiest either of you had ever been.

which was saying something, considering you and steve had spent your whole lives making happiness out of ordinary things.

bike rides and late-night talks. pool days and movie nights. studying together, even when steve mostly just distracted you.

shared dinners. inside jokes.

the quiet comfort of simply existing side by side.

you had already built a life around each other long before romance ever entered the picture.

but now there was kissing. and, quite frankly, that improved everything.

the strange thing was, almost nothing about your relationship changed, and somehow, everything changed.

you still woke up most mornings to the sound of steve’s car horn, or, more recently, to the sound of him knocking on your front door because apparently now he liked seeing your sleepy face. you still rode to school together, still shared lunches, still studied in the library after classes, still spent evenings draped across each other’s bedroom floors talking about life until one of you fell asleep mid-conversation.

you were still you.

he was still steve.

best friends in every way that mattered.

except now, when he saw you, his face immediately softened into the most helpless smile. except now, his hand naturally found yours every chance it got. except now, when he dropped you off at home, you kissed him goodnight. except now, when he made you laugh, he looked at your mouth afterwards like he couldn’t help himself.

except now, he kissed you whenever the urge struck him, which was often.

very often.

because steve had apparently been suppressing years of affection, and now that he was allowed to touch you the way he’d always wanted he simply never stopped.

a kiss on your forehead when he saw you in the morning. a kiss on your cheek while waiting in line for lunch. a kiss against your temple while you studied.

a quick peck when he passed you in the hallway. a longer one when nobody was looking.

soft kisses, laughing kisses, hungry kisses that left you breathless, lazy kisses that happened just because you were standing close.

sometimes he’d stop mid-sentence, stare at you for a second, then kiss you like he’d just remembered he could.

when you’d laugh and ask what that was for, he’d just grin.

“been wanting to for years.”

as if that explained everything. as if that wasn’t enough to make your heart explode every single time.

steve, somehow, became even sweeter.

which you honestly hadn’t thought possible.

he was constantly touching you in little ways. fingers brushing yours, hand on the small of your back, absentmindedly tucking your hair behind your ear, resting his chin on your shoulder while reading over your work even though he wasn’t actually reading any of it.

he looked at you like you were his favourite thing on earth, like he still couldn’t quite believe this was real.

truthfully, he couldn’t.

steve had spent years loving you quietly, years convincing himself he was okay with just having you however he could get you.

best friend. neighbour. constant companion.

he had told himself that was enough.

it hadn’t been, not really.

and now he got to kiss you. hold your hand. hear you call him yours in little casual ways that made his brain completely short circuit.

my stevie.

mine.

god.

he’d never been happier.

and you felt exactly the same.

you weren’t even officially dating yet. somehow, neither of you had actually labelled whatever this was, but it didn’t matter.

you were his.

he was yours.

everyone knew it.

that was enough.

for now.

then prom night arrived.

you spent the afternoon at your friend’s house with your three closest girlfriends, all of you crowded around mirrors with makeup scattered everywhere, hairspray thick in the air, music playing too loudly in the background while laughter bounced off the walls.

it was chaos, beautiful chaos.

and, naturally, your friends spent most of it teasing you mercilessly.

“finally,” one of them said dramatically while curling your hair. “do you understand how painful it’s been watching you two circle each other for years?”

another snorted from where she was doing eyeliner.

“literally years.”

“it was embarrassing,” the third added. “for everyone involved.”

you laughed, shaking your head.

“we were not that obvious.”

three deadpan looks met your reflection in the mirror.

then all together-

“you were.”

one of them groaned dramatically.

“he looked at you like you hung the moon.”

you covered your face.

“okay, stop.”

they only laughed harder but beneath the teasing was genuine relief. everyone who loved you had been waiting for this, waiting for you both to finally stop being idiots, waiting for the inevitable.

because to everyone else you and steve had always been a love story waiting to happen.

later, after hugs and promises to meet at prom, you headed home to get dressed.

and when you finally stepped into your baby pink dress, the same one steve secretly bought for you, you stared at yourself for a long moment.

soft curls framing your face, makeup gentle and glowing, the pink bringing warmth to your skin.

for once, nerves hit.

not because of prom.

because of steve.

because you wanted him to look at you and feel what you always felt when you looked at him.

then, a knock at the door.

your stomach flipped instantly.

you carefully made your way downstairs, hand lightly gripping the banister so you wouldn’t trip over your own feet and halfway down, you froze.

your mother had already opened the door.

steve was standing inside.

flowers in hand, pink flowers, the exact shade of your dress, suit fitted perfectly, tie matching you exactly like he’d planned, hair done but still somehow perfectly messy, looking so unfairly handsome it almost knocked the breath from your lungs.

then he looked up and froze. completely.

his whole body went still, flowers slackening slightly in his hand. mouth parting, eyes wide.

you nearly froze too but you also nearly missed a step, so survival instincts forced you forward.

when you reached him, smiling shyly, steve still looked stunned.

then softly, so softly,

“you look so beautiful."

his voice full of awe.

you felt your cheeks warm.

“you look handsome.”

that snapped him into a grin.

your mother immediately started gushing.

“oh, look at you two-”

your father, already prepared, handed her the old camera.

same tradition every dance, same photo spot every year.

except this year felt different, this year felt important.

steve’s hand settled naturally on your waist.

firm, warm, possessive in the gentlest way. you tucked into his side and both of you smiled brighter than you ever had before.

click.

perfect.

the second you stepped outside and the front door shut behind you steve kissed you. immediately. like he physically couldn’t help it.

you laughed softly against his mouth when he pulled away.

“what was that for?”

he shrugged, smiling.

“sorry. i feel like i have to all the time now.”

you blinked.

he looked adorably sheepish.

“i waited too long before.”

your whole chest melted.

you stood on your toes and kissed his cheek.

“good job i don’t mind.”

his smile widened impossibly.

the drive there was perfect. madonna played loudly, steve complained-

“this song again?”

-while secretly singing every word.

badly. using one hand as a fake microphone. you laughed until your stomach hurt and when he caught you looking at him with that soft smile he winked.

god.

you were doomed.

prom itself was… nice.

crowded, hot, loud. friends dragged you apart almost immediately, his crowd calling him over, yours pulling you in. reluctantly, you separated. but only briefly. because, like always, you found your way back to each other.

effortlessly, like magnets, just in time for the slow dance.

his hands found your waist, yours looped around his neck. you swayed together beneath dim lights, forehead resting lightly against his, smiling softly at nothing and everything.

it was perfect, too perfect, too short. because when the song ended, steve frowned.

“that’s bullshit.”

you laughed.

“what?”

“not enough dancing.”

before you could ask what he meant, he grabbed your hand and started pulling you through the crowd.

out the doors, into the parking lot.

you were laughing the whole time.

“stevie- what are you doing?”

he just laughed breathlessly.

“trust me.”

he dragged you to his car, opened the door, turned the radio on, shoved in a cassette, then david bowie filled the warm night air.

steve dramatically bowed.

held out his hand.

“may i have this dance?”

you laughed so hard your cheeks hurt then placed your hand in his.

under stars, in a mostly empty parking lot, next to his car, you slow danced.

giggling, stepping on each other’s feet, swaying dramatically, kissing halfway through because neither of you could help yourselves.

it was perfect. better than prom itself.

afterwards, breathless and smiling, you both looked toward the building, then at each other and silently agreed-

fuck prom.

ice cream was mandatory, then home.

summer air still warm enough that sitting in his back garden felt perfect.

until suddenly steve gasped, shot upright and ran to the pool, crouching beside it staring in dramatically.

you followed quickly.

“what? what?”

he waved urgently.

“come look.”

you leaned closer and he shoved you in. cold water swallowed you whole. when you surfaced gasping, steve was doubled over laughing.

that little bitch.

fine.

game on.

you frowned dramatically.

“ow- steve-”

his laughter stopped instantly.

“…what?”

you grabbed your arm.

“i think i hurt it-”

panic overtook his face.

“shit- how?”

he reached down and his hand out.

the sweetest idiot alive.

you grabbed it and yanked.

he crashed in beside you with a loud splash. when he surfaced, hair plastered down, face full of betrayal, you were laughing hysterically.

he looked annoyed for exactly two seconds before pulling you into him, arms wrapping around your waist holding you close in the water.

laughing softly now too.

then he kissed you.

forehead resting against yours after, smiling wide.

then quietly, like truth he’d been carrying forever,

“i love you.”

your eyes opened.

you smiled.

“i love you too.”

his face softened so completely it almost broke you.

then he hugged you hard like he never wanted to let go.

later, dripping wet, climbing out of the pool steve paused. looked at you seriously, then “that means you’re my girlfriend now, by the way.”

you smiled.

nodded.

“okay.”

he frowned jokingly.

“…okay?”

you blinked.

“what?”

he shoved wet hair back.

“i always thought you were perfectly happy being single.”

you smiled softly.

shrugged.

“maybe i was just waiting for you.”

he rolled his eyes immediately, tugging you into his side as he walked you both inside.

his lips pressed briefly to your temple.

then quietly, certainly, “you always had me.”

his arm tightened around you.

“always.”

-

@prettyfortucker @harringtondarling @katsallthetime @thichnhathanhh @keepdrlving @beth-mirrorball @powerpuffedbjtch @itzeeeee @ddenniiee-729 @teheblue @frozenpeanutbutterr @coldalpsmcu @b0nzey @xceafh @hearts4steve @swirledyouintoallmypoems @saintlaurentdiva @joekeerylice @blurrygir1 @songkangslvr @keerymylove @foreverserving @cciessuzi @livingblythedoli @toopypoopy @ellieluvercentral @evies4ngels @lattewirl @wolfiee10 @maevebloom @drunkedniallh @girlwithkaleidoscopeeyes777 @mabsters @i-got-the-cinema @batmanssssss @bluehexagon8 @magnificentcitadelcrest @pleasecallmeunhinged @purplequeen64-stuff @inherdiary77 @whispersoflost @yikesdrama @chronicstevelover @horanlover7 @ann-aatn @xoxocelestial @isatchl

[pinkpearledswan]

but when? steve!harringtonxreader

@uzmacchiato for dividers <3!!!

a/n - I just want to start this off by saying, if someone you know is suffering, please reach out to them! And if you're suffering in silence, please reach out to someone and if you don't have anyone to reach out to ask/message me!!! Your never alone and your always loved and I LOVE YOU <3!!!!

summary - A silent suffering that turns into being caught in a trance. Impatiently waiting for it to happen, just to do it yourself. You get possessed by Vecna. Too scared to tell anyone you have all the symptoms, but Steve knows. And he's not letting you go.

wc - 1.8k

tw - reader is depressed, and su1s1dal3, brief mention of readers parents being cruel, hurt/comfort, angst, mentions of death/dying, think that's all sorry if i forgot anything.

NOT proofread DON'T steal my work.

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

“Don’t worry, it’ll all be over soon.” the voice from a shadow spoke like smoke fading into a haze.

“But when?” you pleaded, wanting for an answer to when it’ll all end. The shadow crept closer and closer until…

 Shooting up with sweat drenched down your back and your hair and sheets sticking to your skin. Your vision is blurred and your head is throbbing like there's no tomorrow.  This is the fourth nightmare you've had this week.

 Slowlying getting out of bed, your legs wobble like jelly once you stand on your feet. You peak out the window to only see the sun hasn't risen yet. Just the still dark night, no stars and the moon covered by the dusk clouds. 

You look over at the clock for it to read “3:12 AM.” tiredly sighing and slowly making your way to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water.  Pulling back the cabinet and letting your skin touch the cool glass as you grab it.

 You closed the cabinet, but as you went to reach the faucet. You couldn't help but hear a faint ticking. Brushing it off and turning on the faucet. As you filled the glass with cool water the ticking eventually got louder. It sounded like it was getting closer and closer to you. 

Holding your glass you scurred back to your room. Setting the glass on the nightstand and lying back down. You can't help, but think where was that ticking coming from? And why was it sounding like it was getting louder? 

---------------------------------˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚—-----------------------------

While everything with Max was going on. You guys found out what was wrong with her. Why she kept getting random nose bleeds and nightmares of the past that still haunted her. All of those were signs of this other monster from the upside down. Dustin had said his name was Vecna? 

Everyone had been doing their part in trying to find stuff about this Vecna monster. Robin and Nancy had gone to talk to Victor Creel. Supposedly he knew something about this monster?  Meanwhile You, Dustin, Steve, Lucas and Max had headed over to the graveyard so Max could visit Billy. 

You couldn’t help it, but as you were waiting in the car for max. Your mind kept wandering to one of the signs of Vecna that stood out the most. 

The ticking of the clock. 

Specifically a grandfather clock. 

Could this be? I mean surely you are not crazy, or maybe you're just making it up for attention? So people can feel bad for you, but don't they already give you enough pity. Since your parents left you because you weren't the “daughter" they asked for? 

Your mind was running a hundred miles per minute. Until something, or someone snapped you out of what felt like a trance.  

“Hey, you okay?” you quickly shook away the trance you were left in and turned your head towards the voice that spoke. You saw it, saw the concern in his doe eyes, you saw the pity in his expression. 

“Yeah, I'm fine.” you said low like something was weighing on your shoulders. He knew, of course he knew something was going on.

 How could he not know he’s Steve? Yeah, I mean sometimes he's completely clueless, but other times he is not. He’s always making sure everyone is safe, that everyone's okay. 

He decided not to push, but he kept this moment in mind for later. Almost like he was foreshadowing what would happen later on. 

---------------------------------˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚—-----------------------------

After Max had risen, with her eyes rolling into the back of her skull. The pure shock and fear on everyone's face in the moment. The pit in your stomach after it. 

This was it.

This is what was going to happen to you. 

Everyone stayed down in the wheeler's basement that night. Lucas and Max asleep on the only couch. Dustin curled up fast asleep in the chair. You, Robin, Nancy, and Steve scattered on the floor with pillows and blankets. 

The moonlight peaked in through the window. The only thing that had illuminated the basement in that hour. 

“But when?” you had pleaded.

“When? You’ll never know when. Just know you’ll be next.” The voice from before was now more raggaded. More stiff. More close. 

It crept closer like it did before. The clock chimed louder. The air was thicker, harder to breathe in. 

You had gotten a glimpse of its face before…

Shooting up again like before. Your back once again covered in sweat, you kept trying to catch your breath. You quickly glanced around to make sure you hadn’t woken anyone. Making sure no one had noticed. 

Everyone passed out still. Max and Lucas are still asleep, Dustin still curled on the chair, Robin, Steve, and Nancy. All fast asleep. Or so you thought. 

Steve heard you the second you shot up. He heard you quiet gasp, your struggling breaths of air. He saw the slight gloss in your eyes. 

The moment you glanced around he had quickly shut his eyes. Trying his best to make it seem like he’d been asleep this whole time. Good thing you bought it. 

It was odd, but it was concerning. He thought back to earlier that day. When he had asked you if you were okay. They way you responded. The way it looked like you were slowly closing in on yourself. 

It was a harsh thing to say, but it looked like you had gotten worse. He knew you didn't like to talk about your past. The past with your parents, how they disciplined you, how they treated you. How they just got up one day and left.  

Whatever he was thinking, he was close to piecing it all together. 

---------------------------------˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚—-----------------------------

The moment when you were alone, you planned. 

You tagged along to the Creel house to help with Max. You helped bring supplies to Eddie. 

You tried to be there for everyone every second, 

but the moment when you were alone. 

You planned. 

The nightmares, the headaches, the nose bleeds, everything kept getting worse. The ticking and now the visions. 

You knew it was coming. 

How could you not, you were an easy target.

 Most vulnerable.

You didn't want to wait for it to take you. Didn’t want to wait for your death.

Checking off everyday you’ve survived. Living everyday like it was your last.

Deciding while everyone was trying to find the gate to the upside down. You had driven off to lovers lake, for the plan.

Your plan. 

The sun was starting to set, which was perfect. The pinks and oranges from the sky cascade on the water. 

You stood on a small cliff. Looking down, biting your nails, heavy breathing, eyes glossed over. 

Was this really worth it?

This is what was going to happen either way.

Better to get it over with now, right?

Meanwhile away from you, but in the same area. Dustin, Eddie, Max, Lucas, Steve, Nancy, and Robin. Looking for the gate.

“It says it right there.” Dustin looks at the book then points at the water.

“In the water?” Max questions curiously, her brow furrowed. 

“Uhm Henderson, are you sure you're reading that right. That's gotta be some mistake right?” The metal head boy had sheepishly asked as he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. 

Everyone started to crowd around Dustin, trying to see what he was seeing. Everyone, but Steve. 

He had some weird gut feeling that something bad was about to happen. Though I mean it was, but something else besides finding the gate. 

Looking at everyone crowded and arguing, something was missing. Or someone. 

You.

Where were you?

He glanced around him, looking hard into things that were at a distance. Thinking he couldn’t really see anything since he really couldn't it was almost pitch black outside. The sun almost completely set. 

Until.

Until, he saw a familiar silhouette on a small cliff in the distance. 

Your silhouette. 

His whole body froze.

“Uh- Uhm guys I'll be right back.” He stumbled as he quickly ran off. 

Confused voices and yelling were heard, but barely audible. Too focused on getting to you.  

---------------------------------˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚—-----------------------------

The slight breeze chilled your skin, the water below rustled. Hesitating even moving a single muscle.   

Every time you looked down, memories flashed through your mind. The good ones, the bad ones, everyone.  

What would you miss if you really left?

Questions fogged your head. Everything was suddenly starting  to feel harder to carry alone. 

A worried voice from behind called your name confused. Startled by the voice, you quickly whipped your head around. To see Steve.

Deep in his eyes filled with pure confusion, he was slightly out of breath from running up all the way up here. 

“What are you doing?” the puzzled boy asked. The moon was now the only source of light, but that was enough for him to see. To see the glassyness in your eyes, the way you were nervously biting your nails. How you just looked like a corned animal, accepting your fate. 

You just stared at him, didn't respond. What would you even say anyway? ‘Yeah sorry for ditching you guys I just wanted to get my life over with?’ No, so you just stared at him speechless. 

The more he looked at you the more worried he got. “Are you okay?” The concern in his voice was thicker than before.  He carefully stepped closer, getting closer and closer. Till it became a good distance between you and him. 

“Steve-” Breathing deep before you spoke again. “I don’t know what to do-” It was like whatever barrier was holding you up had completely shattered. 

Your voice wasn't steady, you looked ruff, he knew. Thinking back to the way you looked off into the distance. In his beamer while you guys were waiting for max. When you had shot up terrified on the floor of the wheelers basement, thinking no one had noticed. He noticed and he knew. 

“You don't have to do anything, please I promise.” he stepped closer and gently grabbed your shoulders. Spinning you around so you were completely facing him. 

“Look at me please, please everything will be okay I promise” His voice felt soft, it felt safe. 

“But what if it's not?” Your voice was low, more quiet now, yet still shaky. Hot tears raced down your cheeks as a slight frown etched at your lips. 

“But it will I promise, I won't let anything happen to you.” He then enveloped you in his arms. You buried your face in his chest as you sobbed. His hands rubbed soothingly up and down your back. Until one cradled the back of your head while the other rested on the small of your back. 

Everything felt so soothing, so safe, so warm. 

˚₊‧꒰ა ♱ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

[pinkpearledswan]

the concept of joe posting a story and the song being cocteau twins

[pinkpearledswan]

Johanna - Suki Waterhouse robin!buckley x reader

@222luvr for dividers <3

Summary - A longing love that feels unrequited. Having so many feeling yet can't tell if the other feels the same way? Based on the suki waterhouse song Johanna WC -963 Warnings - reader is besties with Steve. He's also very oblivious to the fact her and Robin both like each other! I don't think there's anything else, just mostly confusion and fluff <3!!! note - not proofread please don't steal my work.

You were everything, how you carried yourself, how you perceived yourself, to how you acted. Like an angel if Robin Buckley were to describe it.

 Yet she could never tell you how she felt truly. I mean you're this perfect angel and then there's Robin. The girl who plays the french horn and rambles nonstop. Why would you be interested in her? 

The both of you were seniors at Hawkins High. Both have english together, both also best friends with Steve Harrington. Robin didn’t know that though and neither did you.

So when you were over at Steve's house. Talking his ear off while trying to watch some random movie he picked up from work. You’d talk about her, Robin. 

                                           -⋆｡°✩-

“I just don't understand how she talks to literally almost everyone, but once I try to speak to her she doesn't want to speak? That doesn't make any sense.”

Shaking your head slightly as you turn towards Steve.

“I mean I haven’t done anything to her or said anything rude about her. Just, why doesn't she want to talk to me?”

The boy puffed out a breath, while his eyes stayed glued on the tv. 

“I don’t know why don’t you ask her?”

“Why don’t I ask her?” You said sarcastically as your eyes burned into him. 

“Yeah I mean you're trying to make a big deal out of something that really shouldn’t be that big of a deal.” he replied smoothly, oblivious to your sarcasm. 

 The soft click of the tv shutting off was what finally made him look at you.

“Hey I was watching that!” quickly turning his head to glare at you. 

“Yeah, and I'm trying to tell you something! Look, I just don't understand what I did. Why she won't talk to me?” Your voice faintly softened, gaze falling on the couch cushion. 

Steve noticed your voice, he noticed your gaze falling low. He obviously didn't know why this girl in your English wasn't talking to you. He also didn’t know why you wanted her to talk to you so badly. 

He spoke low, addressing your name and hoping you’d look up. “Maybe she's just scared to talk to you. I wouldn’t really worry about it too much. Who knows, maybe your teacher will drop this crazy project and pair you with her.”

                                            -⋆｡°✩-

In fact that's exactly what happened. The second you walked in late she knew you’d have to work with her. 

“You're late, I'm assigning  a project with partners and you're with Robin.” The woman pointed towards you. Tapping the pen in her hand against the clipboard that rested in her arm. 

The minute you sat next to her she memorized everything about your appearance. The way your hair was loosely pulled back, how you smelt sweet like it was warming something beneath her. The way your sweater hugged you in all the right places. Not too tight nor too loose.

There was no way you liked girls, I mean look at you. You could basically pull any guy you wanted. I mean they were literally already drooling for you. 

Robin wasn't one to judge a book by its cover, but this scenario she did. 

                                                     -⋆｡°✩-

“And then my teacher just drops this ‘super important’ project and my partner is her!” 

Robin huffed as she wheeled the return cart into the back. 

“Rob, correct me if I'm wrong, but I thought you liked her?” Steve looked at her with a furrowed brow. 

“ Isn’t it obvious dingus? Yes, I do, but how do I know if she likes me? I mean she's all prissy and put together and im-” She just cuts herself off, not being able to finish. 

The bell above the door jingles, both heads turn. Its you, your hair slightly tossold  from the wind and-

  “Hey, what are you doing here?” Steve coos as he leans over the counter.

Your eyes meet his before they fall on hers, on Robins. Flashing a soft smile at the two in front of you.

“Well it's a movie store isn’t it? What do you think I'm coming in here for?” You slightly chuckled 

Oh great the both of you were dating, so maybe judging a book by its cover wasn’t so bad after all. Robin immediately assumed.

“Yeah, so what are you looking for?” The boy glanced around confused before his eyes landed back on you.

“Ah, not sure whatcha got in the back?” You spoke smoothly while stealing a glance over the girl behind the counter next to him. 

“Hey aren’t you in my english?” ‘You grinned slowly and Steve's figure faded into the back. 

“Oh, yeah, yeah I am. You're my uhm- partner for the project.” the girl stumbled over her words slightly, though you didn’t mind. To focused on the freckles that peppered her skin.

“Yeah the ‘super important’ one?” Quickly snapping out of your haze. “Listen, there's this  new cafe that just opened up across the grocery store. Maybe we could work on it there sometime? If you’d like. Preferably this week since it's due next week.” You smiled thoughtfully as you studied her expression carefully. Praying you chose the right words and didn't spook her off or rub off as weird. 

Her eyes lit up “Sure, yeah that sounds good to me. Uh do you want my number- uh you know to call me so we can work on it?”

“Yes I would lov- l-like that” wow now you were stumbling over your words. 

Robin quickly found a piece of paper and started jotting her number down as fast and as clear as she could. As she gave it to you, your fingers brushed hers and blush crept up her cheeks. You slightly giggled, thanking her and headed on your way.

“Oh, so that was her huh?” Steve said coming from the back carrying a box full of tapes. 

a/n - Thanks for reading dolls!!! Just a cutie little robin blurb, possibly if you're interested in a pt2 I would love to write it!!! Stay safe love you all <3!!!

[pinkpearledswan]

dolls should I make a robin!buckley x reader fic based on the suki waterhouse song Johanna????

SHOULD I?!?!?!

yesss <3

no. </3

Voting ended onApr 8

[pinkpearledswan]

DJO IS OPENING FOR TAME IMPALA.

TELL THE NATION THAT DJO IS OPENING FOR TAME IMPALA.

[pinkpearledswan]

i wanna be your girlfriend

Robin Buckley x reader

·༻𐫱༺ ·༻𐫱༺· ·༻𐫱༺· ·༻༻𐫱༺· ·༺· ·༻𐫱

·༻𐫱༺ ·༻𐫱༺· ·༻𐫱༺· ·༻༻𐫱༺· ·༺· ·༻𐫱

summary - You and Robin have been friends since forever, but robin has slowly been viewing you in a different perspective. Pushing her feelings down, too scared to ruin what you’ve already got. When she slowly gives in…do you feel the same?

Set in ending season 3 beginning season 4.

tw - some use of y/n, fem!reader obvi, mention of throwing up, kissing, fluff, that’s abt it.

a/n - hiii omg this is my first ever fic I’ve written. Probably a lot of comas and me using the same words, sorry abt that. All this is based on the song “i wanna be your girlfriend” by girl in red. Honestly I am so scared to see where this fic goes. To me i feel like i rushed it, idk probably too excited. And just sorry if it’s bad again first fic!!! Thank you, love you all<3!!! (also side note formatting kinda weird idk first time ig.)

wc - 2k

·༻𐫱༺ ·༻𐫱༺· ·༻𐫱༺· ·༻༻𐫱༺· ·༺· ·༻𐫱

Robin and you go way back. You've basically known each other since birth. Always together, quite literally attached to the hip at this point. Wherever Robin was, you’d be by her side; and wherever you were, Robin would be there.

As you both grew up, Robin had been seeing you from a different perspective. No longer her best friend, but maybe a crush? No, she couldn't ruin the friendship with the only person who really understands her. (besides Steve.)

The thing is though Robin couldn't stop thinking about you. They way your hair softly swayed when you walked. the way your eyes would light up whenever you saw her. Or the way you never cared when she would endlessly rant on about who knows what. The worst thing was Steve could tell, and oh to him she wanted you bad.

It’s the evening in Hawkins and you're just walking downtown. Letting the soft breeze run through your hair and prick your skin. Family video up ahead, you decided to go in. The bell chimed over head while a familiar voice spoke

“Welcome to family vid-“

Behind the counter Robin spoke. Cutting herself off while glancing up to see who had walked in.

”y/n?” She grinned as you stepped further inside.

”Hey”

“What are you doing here?”

The girl spoke as you walked up to the counter.

It’s not like it was unusual for you to stop by. You’d stop by sometimes for a movie or just to see Robin and Steve. Mostly Robin though.

“I was just walking around. Wanted to stop by, maybe get a movie or something.” You said as you placed your hands on top of the counter. Looking at Robin who was clearly lost in your presence.

”Oh yeah, right.”

She quickly snapped out of it, distracted by the way your hair was slightly tousled from the wind.

“Well you know if you need help-“

”I know.”

You said softly while cutting her off knowing what she was going to say.

she said it almost every time you’ve come in.

You started to wander over to an aisle, studying the movies that were displayed on the shelves. Tucking your hair behind your ears as you slightly tilted down to look at the bottom shelf.

Robin was watching you.

Not in some creepy way, mostly her checking you out. Her chin resting on her hand that was propped up on the counter.

“You're staring.”

A low voice whispered.

Robin whipped her head around to face Steve.

”I don’t know what you're talking about.”

”Sure you do, you do this every time she comes in.”

”You're acting like you don’t do the same when some bubble headed girl comes in to buy a movie.”

“Okay, now I don’t even know what you're talking about, and when did this get to me?”

”Just saying.”

Robin shrugged her shoulders as she fixed the little display on the counter.

Trying to distract herself from checking you out for the millionth time.

”You know if you like her why don’t you ju-“

Robin quickly cupped her hand over Steve's mouth to shut him up. Hoping you couldn't overhear their conversation. Obviously you didn’t, but when she basically smacked him in the face you glanced over. They both awkwardly straightened up. Steve ran his hands through his hair looking everywhere, but where you were standing. While Robin removed her hand from his mouth and gave you this nervous smile as she kicked Steve from under the counter. Taking your glance back over at the tape in your hands.

———————

Robin just prayed you didn't overhear her and Steve talking yesterday. She didn’t let it go, that's all she worried about for the past days. It also didn’t help that all she thought about was you. Every scenario that played in her head, you starred in it. Every scenario she wished was real. What if you didn’t like her the same? What if you only saw her as a friend? She was scared, she couldn't ruin what’s already going on.

Lying in your bed staring at the ceiling and counting down the minutes until it was time to leave. Steve had invited you to some house party that one of his old high school friends was hosting. He had mentioned Robin was going as well. Which was amazing, but you had felt Robin was being weird towards you. She hasn’t been herself around you it seems. Was she upset with you? Or just hiding something from you? Why would she be hiding something, all three of you had nearly died together underground with Russians? You brushed the thought away as you stood up walking to the bathroom to fix your hair. Taking a good look at yourself in the mirror. You were dressed in worn jeans and a let's just say well loved Smiths shirt that’s been through it. Your hair was slightly curled, more of a messy style since you were just laying down. A tad bit of makeup on mostly just mascara and eyeliner that you swiped from your mom that’s definitely expired. Probably going to give you pink eye, but who cares. Time ticked as you carefully sprayed perfume and checked yourself out one last time before heading out the door.

The drive to the party was just horrible. Not the kind of horrible like you just got into a wreck or the traffic was terrible. No, the kind of horrible that feels like something is wrong, but nothing is wrong or maybe something is wrong? You can’t help, but wonder about Robin again. Usually if there’s a party or event or something, you and Robin would always get ready together. Not that you guys really got ready, I mean you both didn’t really dress up, just the same old jeans and a shirt kinda thing. Anyway that’s not the point. The point is how close you guys are, but how far you feel from her right now.

—————-

Robin couldn't stop glancing around the room. Her eyes scanned each person who would walk in the door. One of her fingers anxiously tapped against the red solo cup in her hand filled with whatever was in that huge punch bowl in the kitchen. Bodies of people filled and crowded the room. Steve had wandered to who knows where, leaving Robin alone as she waited for you. It didn’t take long before you parked and walked up to the house. Oh and once you stepped inside a wave of heat violently hit your skin along with the smell of alcohol and sweat. You had tried to look over everyone before someone had grabbed your arm. Quickly startled at the touch, but soon a sigh of relief when you turned to see Robin.

“Hey, you're not gonna believe it, but Steve left me, don’t know where he is. I also have no idea what I'm drinking, but I'm sooo glad you're here.”

The girl threw you a faint smile and took a good look over you as she slightly squeezed your upper arm.

”I’m not surprised and wow this place reeks.” You respond. Your voice muffled by the noise, but I guess Robin somewhat heard you since she laughed at your comment on the party.

”Come on!”

She dragged you through the room packed with intoxicated and somewhat sober people and into the kitchen. Grabbing a cup and filling it with the mysterious punch. Then holding it out at you.

”Here, drink this.”

You take the cup, peek inside and sniff it before you take a sip.

”Ugh, what is this?” You grimaced as the liquid rushed down your throat.

”Like I said no idea” she laughed

———

You both drank and danced. Mostly Robin drank because you knew you'd probably have to take her home since you still couldn't find Steve. So you drank “responsibly” while she kept refilling her cup. Although it didn't take long for her to stumble and stutter over her words when she tried to talk to you. Before she could refill her cup again you had tried to catch up to her. Pushing through tight bodies of sweaty people.

“hey don’t ya think that's enough Robs?”

You said trying to speak over the blaring music as you grabbed her wrist.

“ Maybe, but- you know you could uhm… never have enough!”

The girl's words slurred. She had no idea what she was talking about.

You quickly slid your arm around her waist and pulled her out of the kitchen. Her arm lazily fell around your shoulders as you hurried through the people and out on the porch. The heat from inside soon went away and the cold of the night pricked at your skin.

Robin's full attention was on you and before she could even register. Everything she’s thinking just slips out like soap.

”you know- you look good tonight. Like re-really good.”

Her voice was low and her words all fell on top of each other. Her body naturally pressed closer to you. Like that was her body's sign of giving up on trying to stand straight.

“Oh yeah?” You responded. Distracted by trying to carefully help her down, the porch steps. Making sure she doesn’t fall.

“Oh yeah, though the more I think about it, you look good all the time. Almost like effortlessly.”

” Well thanks Robs, that's very sweet of you.”

As you safely get her down the steps, her arm then slides down to grip your waist rather than your shoulders. Your breath slightly hitching at the change. Realizing how close you both are. It never felt this way though, you guys were always this close sometimes. This time though felt different.

You eventually get her to your car. She tries to talk, mostly though throwing you random compliments that slur together into gibberish. Your cheeks heats up every time her face gets close when she’s drunkly blabbering. What is with you tonight?

“ You know like were b-best friends and all, but l-like imagine if we were more you know?”

Half the time she talked her words slurred together and you could barely make out what she was saying. Right now though…you heard every word even if they still toppled over each other.

You turn to look at her as you start the car. This time you really looked at her.

Her makeup was messy, mascara and eyeliner smudged. Her hair was wild but somewhat tamed. Her freckles that kissed her skin. Her eyes glossy, her cheeks flushed pink, which was either from alcohol or from you? No, that couldn’t be right, but in this moment it was definitely both after what she just said.

You're staring.

“Uhm..I know that you're drunk.” You hesitate, as you quickly snap out of what felt like a trance.

She giggled, about to say something else before she hurried and opened the door. You knew what was coming next. Instantly leaning over and gently pulling her hair back while she threw up.

_________

As you drove, Robin slowly recovered after she just threw up almost everything she drank. The both of you sitting in silence, not full silence since the radio was faintly playing in the back. Neither of you were uncomfortable. Just repeating the words Robin had said in your head like a broken record. “Imagine if we were more than friends.” Oh you could, but you kept denying it.

Meanwhile Robin had the same problem except she couldn’t keep denying it anymore.

Pulling into her driveway. Placing the car in park.

”Hey uhm are you okay?”

You turn towards her with a sympathetic look on your face.

”Yeah… Yeah I'm fine, don't worry about me.”

her voice was quiet and raspy, but she didn't look at you. She couldn't look at your face. Couldn't meet your eyes.

“Robin. Look at me.”

you spoke, voice soft but firm enough to make her look.

She slowly turned, finally facing you. She sighed and hesitated before speaking.

”Look y/n, i-im terrified of really telling you this, but I can’t hold it back anymore. I really like you, like since forever and I’ve just been so scared to tell you. I mean like I’ve been thinking, what if you didn't like me the same way? Or you’d just back down and never speak to me again and-”

Before she could even finish, your mind just took over your body.

Capturing her lips with your own. Before you could pull back, her hands threaded through your hair and rested on the back of your head, pulling you closer.

The kiss wasn’t rushed or demanding. I just felt peaceful. Like it was healing something in the both of you. She pulled back, resting her forehead on your own. Catching your breath.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for that.”

Robin whispered, as her hands rested on your cheeks and pulled you in again.

·༻𐫱༺ ·༻𐫱༺· ·༻𐫱༺· ·༻༻𐫱༺· ·༺· ·༻𐫱

taglist-

@reading-the-stars @marvelhoe13

[pinkpearledswan]

lil sneak of my Robin Buckley x reader fic

Robin and you go way back. you've basically known each other since birth.

Always together, quite literally attached to the hip at this point. Wherever Robin was, you'd be by her side; and wherever you were, Robin would be there.

As you both grew up, Robin had been seeing you from a different perspective.

No longer her best friend, but maybe a crush? No, she couldn't ruin the friendship with the only person who really understands her. (besides Steve.)

The thing is though Robin couldn't stop thinking about you. They way your hair softly swayed when you walked. The way your eyes would light up whenever you saw her. Or the way you never cared when she would endlessly rant on about who knows what. The worst thing was Steve could tell, and oh to him she wanted you bad.

a/n- oki first time actually writing a fic!!! also dw i won’t make u wait too long for the whole thing🤍

[pinkpearledswan]

now should I write a robin x reader fic based on “i wanna be your girlfriend” by girl in red???

[pinkpearledswan]

guy im gonna start writing it tmr and just tell me if you would like to be in the taglist when it gets posted 💋💋💋

[pinkpearledswan]

now should I write a robin x reader fic based on “i wanna be your girlfriend” by girl in red???

[pinkpearledswan]

now why am I getting supper irrelevant stuff on my tumblr feed.

ts is pissing me off

[pinkpearledswan]

OMG CAN WE TALK ABOUT THIS??? LITERALLY THE CUTEST SCENE💕💕💕

[pinkpearledswan]

im so terrified for the final omg.