Summary: Living the life with Eddie and your rambunctious toddler, Axel Wayne.
Content Warning: Mentions of a bad childhood, very light profanity (like once).
A/N: This is more written from the angle of Eddie’s relationship with his son and kind of a day-in the-life type fic. Super fluffy. Hope you guys like it. I wanted to try something different in terms of how I wrote this.
Credit: Dividers by @cafekitsune and @condybunny
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Axel Wayne Munson was the center of Eddie’s world. The missing piece that he never knew he needed. When he found out that you were having a boy, he was terrified. The Munson curse was very real and very much prevalent and he didn’t want to bring a child into that. His dad was a dirtbag that gave him a shitty childhood with no love, affection, or even a hint of care. Not until Wayne, at least.
But even with help from his uncle, Eddie was still very much damaged and he had a hard time loving. He didn’t want to pass that on to his son. But once he found out that it was definitely a boy, Eddie realized that he had no choice. That’s when everything shifted.
Eddie changed. Once he knew it was coming, it all began to make sense. He began to see things differently. He may have had an absentee father and not much of a childhood but he knew one thing for certain; his boy was not gonna end up like him. Eddie was going to be the father to his son that he himself should have had. He would be everything that Axel needed- and more.
The day that Axel was born, he was already taking the world by storm. He came out crying and wouldn’t stop. They chalked it up to colic because nothing would soothe him. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t get him to stop. Not until he was in Eddie’s arms.
Axel’s eyes fluttered open, squinting harshly as they tried to adjust to the harsh bright light outside of the womb. But, for a moment, they opened fully. It was a fleeting moment but Eddie felt it like an electrical current. Axel looked at him with big brown eyes that looked just like his and Eddie knew. This little boy was his life now and he vowed right then and there that he would stop at nothing to make sure that he felt loved and that nothing would ever hurt him.
As Axel grew, you got to witness Eddie begin to watch Axel’s childhood unfold. Sometimes you wondered if Eddie sometimes lived out his missed childhood through your son. Sharing experiences with him that Eddie never got to have. It wasn’t until the toddler stage that you really got to see it all play out.
In the morning, you would usually wake up to find Eddie’s side of the bed empty- padding your way down the hallway to find him somewhere in the house with your boy. There were times where you’d find him on the floor with your now almost two-year-old son as they drove Hot Wheels or Matchbox cars on the racetrack rug in Axel’s room.
“Car go!” Axel would say, rolling the car on the floor as Eddie watches.
“What sound does a car make, Ax?” Eddie would implore, looking at his son as Axel looks up at him- throwing his tiny arms up in excitement as he shouts “Broom!”
It never ceases to amaze Eddie just how smart his son was. It seemed like every day he learned something new. A new word, how to do something all by himself, and finding new ways to get into trouble. Like the one morning that you both awoke to the sound of pots can pans clattering, jolting you from your sleep.
“What was that?” You ask, staring at Eddie with wide eyes before you both leap out of bed, hurrying into the kitchen to find Axel wide awake. His curls wild with bed hair as he toddles around the kitchen in his dino footy pajamas, digging through the cupboard where you kept your cookware. Axel grabs onto a wooden cooking spoon as he begins to wack it into the floor.
“Oh-Kay!” Eddie says, rushing over to scoop up Axel into his arms “I think it’s a little too early for that, kid.”
When Axel sees that his dad is finally awake, he beams.
“Dadadada..” He babbles, burying his tiny face in Eddie’s curls before resting it in his father’s shoulder.
“Good morning to you too, gremlin.” Eddie laughs softly, kissing Axel’s head of brown curls that looked just like his “How long have you been up, hm? You scared the shit out of me and mommy.”
Your son lifts his head from Eddie’s shoulder to look at him.
“Oh’s.” He states, pointing his tiny finger towards the pantry. Eddie knew just what he was asking for; breakfast.
“Yeah? You hungry?” Eddie coos “You want some Cheerios?”
Eddie walks over to the pantry, his son in his arms as he looks for Axel’s favorite cereal. That’s when Eddie remembered that they had finished the box yesterday morning while they were cuddled on the couch watching He-Man.
“Shoot.” Eddie shakes his head “We’re out of Oh’s. Sorry, kiddo.”
“No Oh’s?” Axel asks, his little face scrunching up in confusion.
“Yup. No more Oh’s.” Eddie responded “They’re all gone?”
“Gone?” Axel repeats “Where go?”
“Well…” Eddie starts “I’m pretty sure that a chunky little gremlin ate ‘em all!”
Eddie begins to tickle your son’s side as Axel giggles, causing you to smile as you watch. There was nothing that made you happier than seeing your boys happy.
“There should be Cocoa Puffs in here.” You offer “I can go to the store later if-“
“No.” Axel huffs “Mo’ Oh’s.”
“You sure you don’t want-“
“Oh’s!” Axel grumbles, scrunching up his little face to show you that he meant business. He wanted his Cheerios and nothing else would suffice.
“You heard the man.” Eddie jokes “Looks like we’re gonna have to go get more Oh’s.”
“Okay.” You relent “I’ll go get dressed all I’ll go.”
“No, babe, don’t worry about it.” Eddie shakes his head, walking over to you to gently kiss your forehead “I’ve got it. Why don’t you go back to bed? I’ll bring Ax with me. Right, gremlin? How does that sound? Wanna go bye-bye with daddy?”
And Axel can hardly contain his excitement, bouncing his little body up and down in Eddie’s arms as he squeals excitedly.
“Alright, alright.” Eddie laughs “You act like I never take you anywhere.”
Eddie takes him back to his bedroom, stepping around a landmine of toys to get to his dresser.
“Alright, kid. What do you wanna wear today?” He asks “What are we feeling? We’ve got….cars?”
Eddie holds up a tiny 2T shirt with a car pattern, waiting for a reaction. Axel just blinks.
“Okay.” Eddie replies “What about…..this?”
He holds up a blue and white striped polo shirt.
“No!” Axel grumbles, grabbing the shirt in his tiny fist as he yanks it out of Eddie’s hand before dropping it to the floor.
“You know what?” Eddie says, looking down at the discarded shirt “I don’t even blame you. A polo shirt? What was I thinking?”
Axel had a hatred for polo shirts. Eddie knew this. His chubby hand always pulled at the collar as he fussed relentlessly until you took it off of him.
“You know, we would really burn that shirt. Like, the stripes? Totally out. Not a fan of the ‘my daddy has money and I own a yacht’ look.”
Axel begins to babble, waving his arm around dramatically and Eddie listens intently even though he didn’t understand gibberish. When Axel was finally done airing out his grievances, he lets out a grunt.
“….Yeah, you can say that again, dude.” Eddie nods “Might have to let daddy do the clothes shopping for a bit. Mommy means well. You know she thinks you’re handsome in anything you wear. Can’t blame her. You’re pretty damn cute.”
“Ya.” Axel lets out, nodding once for emphasis.
“Alright.” Eddie laughs “You don’t have to be cocky about it. Jeez….”
Eddie then turns back towards the dresser drawer as he rifles through more clothing options.
“Ooh! Hey bub, look what mommy washed.”
Eddie pulls out Axel’s favorite shirt. His tiny Hellfire Club t-shirt. As soon as Axel lays eyes on it, he goes feral in Eddie’s arms- bouncing up and down wildly as he fusses. He holds out his arms as he tries to grab for it, snatching it out of Eddie’s hands as he pulls it close to his chest- rubbing his cheek against the fabric.
“Alright, that’s settled then. Tiny Hellfire shirt, it is.”
Axel then pops his head back up to look up at his dad, grabbing as Eddie’s Judas Priest shirt that he had slept in.
“Da!” Axel lets out, still tugging. Eddie had learned not that long ago what this means when Axel tugs on his shirt. He wanted to match.
“You wanna pick what I wear today too?” Eddie grins “Okay. I’m not complaining. It can be a Hellfire shirt kind of day.”
A half an hour later, Eddie and Axel were dressed for the day. Ready for an errand run.
As Eddie grabs his keys from the hook on the wall, Axel begins to point at his eyes.
“Dada, bight.”
“Shoot! Almost forgot.” Eddie grabs Axel’s favorite accessory; his tiny black sunglasses as he slides them into his face.
“Here we go!” Eddie announces “Can’t leave without those, can we?”
As Eddie looks down at his son and smiles. This tiny little thing that he helped create. This tiny little person that was just like him. A smaller version of the boy Eddie once was. A boy that was forgotten by the world or cast aside from everyone else. Until he found you. Until you showed him the love that he always deserved to have. The love that Eddie would die trying to make sure that his son was showered in.
Axel Wayne Munson was perfect in every way. That no matter what he would do, no matter what he would become, no matter what choices he would make with his life, Eddie would always love him.
Always.
“I love you.” Eddie breathes out, pressing a kiss to Axel’s forehead as the toddler smiled. A smile that Eddie would go through hell for. A smile he would sacrifice everything to see. This boy? He was special. He was everything. It was that moment that Eddie had to shake the thought out of his mind, it was far too early to be crying and emotional.
“Alright, kid.” Eddie says, spinning his keys around on his finger “Lets rock ‘n roll.”
summary: you finally hold your daughter for the first time, then watch Jack fall in love holding her too. A few days of recovery later, the three of you go home together. Safe, whole, and finally a family.
content/warnings: fluff, implied age gap, married Jack and reader, inaccurate medical procedures, happy family, taking baby home.
word count: 1.6k
a/n: happy father’s day to daddy Jack! thanks for reading <3 only one more chapter left.
previous - next
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Chapter Eight
A couple of hours had passed since you’d opened your eyes, and already the room felt different. The monitors were still there, the IV line still taped to the back of your hand, but the particular held-breath quality of the room had eased into something gentler. You were sitting up against the pillows now, sipping water in small careful amounts, and Jack hadn’t let go of your other hand since you woke up… not once, not even when the nurse came in to check your vitals and had to work around him.
“You should eat something when they bring food up,” he said, for probably the third time.
“I will.”
“You lost a lot of blood. You need–”
“Jack.” You looked at him, and something in your expression made him stop mid-sentence. “I know. I’m a doctor too, remember?”
The corner of his mouth lifted, just slightly. It was the first real almost-smile you’d seen from him since you woke up, and it did something warm and aching to your chest.
There was a knock at the door, soft and deliberate, and a nurse stepped in pushing a small bassinet on wheels. Your heart moved before your mind caught up to what was happening.
“Someone’s been asking to meet her mom,” the nurse said, smiling, and wheeled the bassinet gently alongside the bed.
You looked at Jack with tears in your eyes.
He was already on his feet, but he didn’t reach for her. He stood there instead, looking down at the bassinet with an expression that was equal parts adoration and restraint, and when you caught his eye he just shook his head slightly.
“You first,” he said quietly. “I told you. I’ve been waiting for you to hold her first.”
The nurse helped you adjust, propping another pillow against your side for support, and then carefully, carefully lifted the small swaddled little girl from the bassinet and placed her in your arms.
For a moment you couldn't say anything at all. It was a lot.
She was so small. Smaller than you’d imagined even after months of feeling her move, of watching her on every scan, of memorizing the rhythm of her heartbeat through your stethoscope at home. Her face was scrunched and serious, her dark hair soft on her head, and when her eyes opened… barely, just slits… they found nothing in particular and everything at once.
“Hi,” you whispered, and your voice broke completely on the single syllable. “Hi, baby girl.”
Jack made a sound beside you that he immediately tried to suppress and failed to. You looked up at him through the blur of tears that had started without permission. He was crying too. “Come here.”
He sat carefully on the edge of the bed, his whole body angled toward the two of you like he couldn't help it, and you shifted her slightly so he could see her face properly.
“She has your nose,” you mumbled.
“She has your everything else,” he said, voice thick. He reached out one finger, hesitant, and touched the back of her tiny hand, and her fingers curled instinctively around his with a strength that seemed impossible for something so small.
“Do you want to hold her?”
He looked at you. “Are you sure?”
“Jack.” You laughed, exhausted but happy. “She’s your daughter too. You’re allowed to hold her.”
He lifted her with the particular careful precision of someone who had clearly read every page of every medical book about babies and was still terrified of doing it wrong anyway, tucking her against his chest, one large hand supporting her head with a gentleness that didn’t match the size of his large hands at all.
The baby made a small, indignant sound at the transfer and then settled, her cheek against his chest, and Jack closed his eyes.
You watched him hold her—your daughter, his daughter, the two of you finally a family in the way you’d been imagining for over a year now, through loss and fear and everything in between… and felt something in your chest settle into place that had been unsettled since the very first positive test.
“Hi, darling.” Jack said to her, very softly, like the word belonged only to them. “I’m your dad. I’ve been waiting a long time to say that.”
You reached over and rested your hand against his arm, and for a long moment none of you said anything at all.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
A little while later, when the nurse came back to check on you both, she gently suggested trying to feed her, and you took your daughter back into your arms with the slightly nervous determination of someone attempting something entirely new for the first time.
It took a few tries. A little fussing, a little repositioning, Jack hovering close with his hand resting on your shoulder, the nurse offering quiet, practical guidance.
And then she latched.
The nurse left and the room went very quiet. You felt the strange, overwhelming rush of something instinctive and ancient settling into place in your body… and looked up to find Jack watching the two of you with an expression you would remember for the rest of your life.
“Look at her,” he murmured.
“I am.”
“She’s so sure of herself,” he said, and laughed for real, finally releasing something that had been held tight in his chest for days. “She’s been here for less than a day and she already knows exactly what she wants.”
“Wonder where she gets that from,” you said, glancing at him with a smirk.
“No idea,” he said, deadpan, and you both laughed quietly enough not to disturb her.
You looked down at her face, peaceful now, her small fist curled against your skin, and thought about the very first time you’d heard a heartbeat that wasn't your own… that tiny, frantic, impossible sound and beating on a screen, the sound that had once meant so much hope and then so much grief and now, finally, meant only this.
Her. Here. Alive and warm and yours.
Jack leaned down and kissed the top of your head, then the top of hers, and you felt his hand settle warm over both of yours.
“We did it, sweetheart,” he whispered.
“We did it,” you agreed, and let yourself cry again.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
The next few days moved slowly in small increments of progress, measured and monitored, each one a quiet victory. Your blood pressure stabilized. Your numbers improved. You walked the hallway with Jack’s arm around your waist the first time, steadier the second, almost like yourself by the third.
All your friends who passed your door made a habit of glancing in, just for a second, just to see how you were doing because word had clearly traveled, the way it always did at PTMC. Trinity brought a teddy bear and flowers that were entirely too large for the room. Dana cried again, predictably, the moment she held her.
Even Robby stopped by, standing slightly awkward in the doorway until Jack handed him the baby without ceremony, and the sight of him holding her goddaughter so carefully, so completely undone by something so small, made you laugh until your stitches complained.
On the fourth day, Dr. Al-Hashimi came in with the discharge paperwork and a smile that told you everything before she said a word.
“You’re going home,” she said.
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
The apartment was exactly as you’d left it, except now there was a car seat by the door and a bassinet in the bedroom and an entire universe of small, impossible new things waiting to be learned.
Jack carried her in himself, cradled against his chest, narrating quietly to her as he walked through each room like he was introducing her to the place properly. The grand tour, he called it.
“This is the kitchen, where your mom makes terrible decisions about pickles and jam. This is the living room, where we’re going to watch entirely too much television once you’re old enough to have opinions about it.”
You stood in the doorway and watched him, exhausted and sore and more content than you had ever been in your life, and pressed a hand briefly to your own chest… feeling your own heartbeat, steady now, no longer holding its breath.
“Hey,” Jack said, turning to find you watching them. “Come here. Both of you need to be on this couch.”
You crossed the room and sank down beside him, and he shifted their daughter gently into the space between you, and for a long, quiet moment the three of you just stayed there looking at her tiny chest rising and falling against the blanket, her heartbeat steady and small and entirely hers now, out in the world at last.
“We’re home,” you said softly.
Jack pressed a kiss to your temple. “We’re home.”
And for the first time in a very long time, neither of you were afraid of anything at all and of everything all at once.
new dad jack abbot who is just absolutely obsessed with newborn scrunches…like to the point he will fight/race reader to be the first one in front of the bassinet the second your baby moves or makes any noise.
those scrunches are HIS.
he’ll pick the baby up sooo gently, cooing at them as they make all the baby noises, and the second that baby scrunches up to stretch jack is a puddle on the floor. don’t even bother mopping it up cause it’s just gonna keep happening every time that baby wakes up.
the baby’s little legs curl up into their bottom, arms stiff and stretched out, back curved a little and the cheeks…good lord those chubby cheeks get all squished against their arms and their eyebrows raise. their tiny face gets red as their fists flail a little bit.
jack’s got the biggest smile on his face, so soft and warm for his mini me.
“biggggg stretchhhh”, jack will coo, eyebrows dancing in his hairline as he gasps softly when the baby finishes stretching and looks right at him.
“there, much better”, jack says softly, pulling his baby close and letting them rest against his shoulder; “yeah i know…feels so nice to stretch out, huh?”
reader just watches the entire thing unfold with nothing but love in their eyes. half ready to pounce on jack and not wanting to interrupt the moment. reader has no idea how many videos of that exact moment they have on their phone by now. at least a dozen.
when the baby reaches that stage in between three and four weeks old where they technically aren’t a newborn anymore, jack is distraught. his baby is growing up and he doesn’t like it. even more so when he goes to pick the baby up and they just…don’t scrunch.
instead their arms go all the way above their head, stretching out the same way jack would…like a full grown person. their tiny body is still a little arched, but not the same way it used to be. not in full scrunch, legs still dangling below their little body.
jack freezes, almost immediately. he just…stares…loses it. blinks once, then twice before a soft breath comes from his mouth, brows already furrowing before he can stop them.
“um excuse me bean, where the heck is your scrunch?”
his voice almost wavers. bean stares back at him, blinks once before chewing on their fist, unsure why jack’s still got them held out into the air. clearly the scrunch isn’t coming.
bean grunts in protest.
jack brings them close, cradling their tiny head and letting his lips brush against the soft downy hair on top of their head.
“can’t believe you lost your scrunch…when did you get so big?”, he whispers into their skin.
he inhales the new baby scent, which is thankfully—still fully in tact.
jack tells reader dramatically about the events when they emerge from the shower. hands waving in the air. he’s fully dissatisfied and appalled that bean dared to loose their scrunch. not when it was his favorite thing.
“it’s ok honey, now bean has the cute baby stretch”, reader assures him.
jack let’s put a noise that almost sounds like a grunt, but sighs anyways; “It is kinda cute…”
“see? it’s ok”, reader tells him, caressing his hand with their thumb; “we’ve got lots of videos too, jack.”
jack nods, eyes flicking over to look at bean who’s chilling in their bouncer chair. he points at them, eyes narrowed with a quiet humor that’s decorated with a slight seriousness; “you”, he says; “need to stop growing so fast.”
so yeah, he’s a little distraught and has a mini existential crisis…and maybe he watches those videos of every scrunch bean every did later that night in bed while reader is fast asleep next to him. maybe his eyes are a little glossy, sue him. that’s his baby.
Hello, everyone! I just wanted to update you on some fics and just a general update.
I wanted to apologize first for the lack of updates on anything lately. I've been struggling with my mental health for quite some time, but it has gotten worse in the last year. And with the struggles come migraines. They've been pretty bad lately, so I haven't been working on any fics for a few weeks.
Now updates on the fics; I have so many ideas, but I don't know how to get them down. I have tons of topics, prompts, or just general ideas, but I just don't know how to write them out. I'm working really hard to try and get them out, and I'm really hoping to get at least one out this week, but I unfortunately can't make any promises.
It will be slow going due to issues with my computer. I have to shut it down every about 20 minutes. So if you have a computer brand that you really like, and isn't expensive, leave a comment, and I'll do some research!
Thank you, everyone, for having patience with me while I struggle. I really appreciate you! Don't forget my requests are open, but just give me a few days to get it done, edited, and released.
When Y/N has a POTS episode, she faints and is taken into the PTMC, where Jack takes care of her
4.0K+ Words
A/N- Hello, everyone! I know it's been quite a while since I've updated, but I've had such bad writer's block, but hopefully this has brought me out of it. Just a few things: the service dog in the story is named Kaleu, a name from a book I read at the start of the year called Convergence, which I highly recommend! Please remember: when you see a service dog in public, do not pet it unless the handler gives permission, or their vest has come off, but please still ask permission before touching. Service dogs are considered medical devices and should be treated with the same respect.
POTS-Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome
TRIGGER WARNINGS-BLOOD, NEEDLES, MEDICAL INACCURACIES, POTS EPISODE
This is the second time posting this, so hopefully my computer works with me this time!
REQUESTS ARE OPEN
Enjoy!
Dividers by @diviniyae
Jack rested his elbows against the nurse’s hub, rubbing his hands down his face. He exhaled roughly, moving his hand to grip the back of his scrub top, fanning himself with the fabric, attempting to cool himself off slightly. The sounds of the ED flowed around him: the beeping of heart monitors, the pressureized hiss of blood pressure cuffs inflating and deflating, shoes squeaking against the floor, then the high-pitched ringing of the red phone on the top of the nurses' hub. The sound cuts off abruptly as Perlah answers the phone.
“PTMC, go ahead Medic Command.” As Perlah listens, her eyes dart over to where Jack stands, looking down at the tablet in front of him. She responds before setting the phone down, walking over to where Dana is standing a little ways away from the hub. She has a hushed conversation with the charge nurse before rushing up to Robby, talking quickly with the attending.
Dana quickly rests the tablet she was holding down, smoothing her hair as she walks over to the night-shift attending. “Jack? Can I talk to you for a second?” She asks softly, resting her hand on his freckled bicep. Jack nods, putting the tablet back into the metal holder as he passes, with Dana walking next to him. Dana leads them to an empty room, closing the door gently behind her, turning towards the doctor. She watches as Jack sits down on the bed, leaning down, running his palm over where his prosthetic meets his stump.
“We got a call on the red phone for an incoming ambulance,” Dana waits until Jack nods his head, looking back up at her, waiting for her to get to the point. “They’re bringing in Y/N with a pretty deep head lac. They said she fell in the bathroom and hit her head on the counter. When they got to your place, they found her in the bathroom with Kaleu lying next to her on the floor.” Dana watches Jack’s face for a few moments before continuing. “Kaleu had led one of the EMTs to his vest and leash, and he’s on his way with Y/N. They’ll be here an second now.” Jack sits for several seconds before shooting off the bed, rushing around Dana, flinging the door open just as a gurney comes in with Y/N lying on it, Kaleu trotting quickly along with it, his leash wrapped around her wrist.
“Baby! What happened?” Jack asks, as he sprints to the side of the gurney, rushing into the trauma room alongside his wife.
“We found her in the bathroom on the floor with a head lac. She said she was standing at the sink, and the next thing she knew, she was on the floor with Kaleu licking her face to wake her up. He had brought her the phone, and she called us. Was pretty out of it the whole phone call, and when we got there. BP is good at 110/83, heart rate is elevated at 139.” The EMT pats Jack’s back, walking out of the room, over to the nurses’ hub.
Jack moves towards the head of the bed, brushing his hand against Kaleu’s back as he goes, smiling down at the dog. “Hey, baby,” He says as he gets up to his wife’s head, moving her head to the side to look at the laceration on her forehead. “Do you remember what happened?”
“I was in the bathroom when I got dizzy. I didn’t have time to get somewhere safe before I passed out. I came to with Kaleu over me, licking my face with my phone in my hand. I didn’t want to make you rush home in the middle of your shift, so I called 911.” As she talked, her words slurred, worrying Jack of something else being off other than the obvious. Jack pulled a penlight out of his breast pocket, shining it in her eyes. Y/N grimaced and tried to turn away, but Jack held her head firmly, watching her pupils.
“I know, I know, it’s bright. I’m sorry, sweetheart, I have to check.” The attending said to his wife, softly petting her hair out of her face. He looked up when he saw Robby out of the corner of his eye. “I think she has a concussion. Her pupils are equal and reactive, and she seems to know where she is, but she’s slurring her words and is sensitive to light.” Jack turned back to where Y/N lay on the gurney, and she turned her head to look at him. “Y/N, I’m going to say three words, and I want you to remember them and repeat them back when I tell you to, okay?” He waited for her to confirm before talking again. “The three words are glass, tree, and paper. Can you tell me where you are?” Jack asks, watching as Y/N squints her eyes, before answering.
“I’m at the PTMC. Your ED.” She says softly, closing her eyes again.
“Very good. Now, what were those three words I told you to remember?” Jack asks, grabbing his penlight again. “Open your eyes, baby.” He shines the light in her eyes again, apologizing again when she tries to turn her head away from the light.
“Um, tree, and um, I can’t remember the others, sorry.” The attending’s wife says quietly. Jack shares a look with Robby, nodding his head when Robby tilts his head in question. Jack put his penlight away, moving to grab a saline-soaked gauze, bringing it to her head, beginning to wipe the drying blood off her face.
“Okay, baby, this is what we’re gonna do. Robby is going to stitch your forehead up, then you’ll need to go down to CT. I just want to be safe since you’re having some trouble remembering the words I gave you. I’m gonna push you up the line to get you in next, then we’ll keep an eye on you until the end of my shift.”
“Can Kaleu come with me?” Y/N asks softly. The large white Newfoundland perked up when he heard his name, thumping his tail softly against the floor, opening his mouth in an almost smile. Jack smiled down at the dog, chuckling softly at his smile. Jack turned back to his wife, smiling softly at her.
“I’m sorry, baby. Kaleu will have to stay with me; he can’t be in the room with the radiation. But don’t worry, I’ll take good care of him.” Jack smiled down at his wife, leaning down to press a kiss to her freshly cleaned forehead before moving out of the way for Robby to take his place.
“I know you will, Jackie.” Y/N opened her eyes to look at the new person leaning over her. She smiles faintly at the other attending, letting Jack take hold of her hand gently as Robby numbs her head. “Hi, Doctor Robby, fancy meeting you here.” She said with a small giggle, squeezing Jack’s hand tighter as Robby moved the needle around her forehead.
“Hey, Kiddo. Heard you took a tumble. You know, you didn’t have to hurt yourself to come and see us, right? You can just come in.” Robby joked, taking the needle and suture thread from Perluh, starting to stitch Y/N’s head together.
“Oh, where’s the fun in that? I gotta bring some excitement with me.” Y/N joked back, closing her eyes again as Robby got closer to her eye. Kaleu stands from where he lies, jumping up to rest his front paws on the bed, resting his large head on Y/N’s chest, whining softly in the back of his throat. “I’m okay, Kaleu, mama’s okay.” Y/N talks softly to the dog, running her hand down his head, over and over, her hand ever-so-slightly trembling when she picks it up. Jack tightens his hold on her other hand, kissing the pulse point on her wrist to avoid the IV placed in the back of her hand.
The room is quiet until the sound of the heart monitor picks up speed, the blood pressure cuff inflates automatically as her heart rate spikes into the 150s. Jack whips his head up towards the monitor, watching it steady out at 156 beats. He moves closer to his wife, taking his penlight out of his pocket, shining it in her eyes again. She recoils from the light, whimpering softly. “How’re you feeling, Y/N/N?” Jack watches as she opens her eyes to glare at her husband.
“Just peachy, Jackie. Got a killer headache, though.” She goes quiet for a minute before saying what he knew was coming. “Super dizzy. Feel like the room is on its side.” Jack lets go of her hand to move over to the computer near the door, typing in an order before moving back towards the gurney in the middle of the room
“Hey, Perlah? Can you go grab some Ondansetron and Toradol from the pharmacy cart outside, please? I can take over helping Robby.” Jack asks the nurse, who nods and hands him the rest of the threads she's holding to move out of the room. “Okay, baby. Perlah is gonna give you some Toradol for the headache and some Ondansetron for the nausea, I know you’re not mentioning. I don’t want to give you too much right now, so we’ll see if the dizziness goes away as your heart slows down a bit, okay? Sound like a plan?” He asks, handing Robby another thread.
“You’re the doc, here, doc. Whatever you say.” Y/N says with a small smile. Jack huffs through his nose, smiling softly down at his wife.
Perlah comes back with two syringes of medication, setting them both gently down on the table, moving to swab the IV injection port up near the bag of saline. She grabs the first syringe, pushing the plunger down. “Ondansetron, pushed.” Perlah swabs the port again before grabbing the remaining syringe, pushing it just as gently. “Toradol, pushed.” Perlah says to the two attendings, stepping back to throw the used syringes into the sharps container hanging on the wall.
“The Toradol might make you sleepy, sweetheart, but you need to stay awake for me, okay?” Jack asks. He clicks his tongue when he sees Y/N pout, running one gloved finger down her cheek softly. “I know you wanna sleep, Kiddo, but it’s concussion protocol that we keep you awake for a few hours, at least until you come back from CT. Then you can sleep the rest of my shift, I promise.” Jack says softly, handing Robby the last thread. “There, all done with the stitches. Let’s get you wheeled down for CT. Kaleu can come down with us, but he’ll have to come back with me.” Jack says as he throws his gloves away. He pushes the gurney wheel locks down, unlocking the bed, moving out of the room, and pushing the bed towards CT.
As they get to CT, Jack takes Kaleu’s leash from around Y/N’s wrist, moving to drop a kiss on the uninjured side of her forehead. “I’ll be back to get you when you’re done, baby. I love you. Say bye to mama, Kaleu.” Jack tells the dog, letting the large dog lick over his wife’s face one more time before directing him back down to the ED. “She shouldn’t be long, buddy.” Jack consoles the dog when he whines pitifully next to him.
They make their way back down to the ED, stopping next to Dana at the nurses’ hub. Dana looks over at Jack, then down at Kaleu, smiling at the dog as he sits down. “Well, who’s this handsome boy here? You must be Kaleu.” Dana talks to the dog, looking back up at Jack to ask permission to touch the dog. She fully kneels when Jack gives the okay, running her hands down his massive white head. “You did a good job staying with your mom and bringing her the phone today, Kaleu. You’re such a good boy.” Dana praises, smiling when Kaleu opens his mouth, letting his pink tongue loll out of the side of his mouth happily.
“He’s the best boy, aren’t you, Ka?” Jack asks the dog, letting his hand rest on his back, over his pale blue vest. Kaleu licks over Jack's face, pushing himself into Jack’s chest, burying his face into his neck, exhaling loudly. “I know, buddy, you’ve had a rough day, dad’s here now, you can rest now. I’ll take care of her now.” Jack says softly to the dog, settling down on the ground, letting Kaleu push himself further into him. Kaleu falls limp in his lap, letting his breathing even out slowly.
Dana watches with a smile, standing up, looking in to see where an empty bed is. “Go ahead and take him to South 14; the room is empty. We’ll just move the bed out when your girl is done. Neither of you need to sit on the hard floor, not after the day you two have had.”
“Thanks, Dana. I’ll get back to my rounds when she gets back. I can’t leave Kaleu alone right now.” Dana waves him off, walking away as Jack makes his way to South 14, settling on the bed with Kaleu draped over him. The night-shift attending dozes to the sound of Kaleu snoring softly in his ear.
Jack wakes to the sound of knuckles rapping on the door as it opens. He gently nudges Kaleu, waking the dog. “Kaleu, alert,” Jack commands. The white Newfoundland shoots up, jumping off the bed to stand on the ground, watching Jack for his next command. The dog knew that if his wife wasn’t around, Kaleu was to pay attention and listen to the commands Jack gave him. Jack moves to unlock the wheels on the bed they were just lying on, moving it out of the room, letting Dana take it to be stripped and cleaned. Kaleu backed up as the new bed was brought in, Y/N lying in the middle of it. Robby locked the wheels on it before moving to the computer, scanning his badge, and bringing her CT results up. “Kaleu, pressure,” Jack commanded the dog, watching as he jumped onto the bed, draping himself over the younger woman sleeping on the bed. “What does it say?” Jack questioned his friend, looking over the CT charts himself.
“Moderate concussion, no bleeding, swelling, or anything to worry about. Just wake her up every few hours, and she’ll be fine in a few weeks. Just keep an eye on the lac for infection. I think I want to give her a round of antibiotics just to be safe. I don’t want to risk anything, especially with the head. I’ve seen so much go wrong with head injuries. I’ll start with IV Ceftriaxon while she’s here, then I’ll send some Augmentin for at home. Have you given that before?” Robby asks, nodding when Jack agrees. “Good, I’ll let you check on her and be out of your hair. Do you want to do the checks or should I ask Dana or Perlah to do it?” Robby stops at the door to wait for his answer.
“I’ll do them unless I get pulled into a trauma. I’ll let Dana know and be out in a few.” Jack moves closer to the bed, running his hand down Kaleu’s back. “Hey, baby. Can you open those beautiful eyes for me?” Jack asks quietly, smiling when Y/N opens her eyes slightly. “Hey, there you are. I just want to ask a few questions. Do you know what day it is?”
“Thursday.” She slurs, smacking her lips.
“Good, what year is it?” He asks next, turning to pick up the cup of water on the table next to the bed. He brings it to her lips, letting her take a few pulls from the straw before pulling it back, waiting for her to answer.
“2026, April.” She responds, making Jack chuckle.
“Well, I think that answers all my questions. I have to go make my rounds and check in on the residents. Here’s the call button. If you need anything, press it, and one of the nurses or I will come help you. I’m going to come back every two hours and check on you, ask you some questions, but if I get pulled into a trauma, either Dana or Perlah will come check on you, okay? Kaleu is right here. I’ll leave the door open just a little bit if he alerts and needs to come find me.” Jack watches as Y/N nods her head softly, running her small hand over Kaleu’s back. “I’ll be back in two hours, okay, baby? I love you.” Jack plants one last kiss on her forehead before stepping away from the bed, turning to Kaleu one last time. “Kaleu, alert. Find me.” Jack looks at the dog as he raises his head, watching Jack exit the room before turning his large head back to his girl, lying it down on her chest, watching her expression.
Jack leaves the door open just a bit, enough for Kaleu to nose open if he needs to, walking over to the nurses’ hub. “Dana, I have Kaleu on alert; he’ll find me if she needs me, so can you look out for him? I also told her that if I get pulled into a trauma, you or Perlah will do her cognitive checks every two hours. Can you do that?” He asks, moving to pick up a tablet from the holder.
“Of course. I’ll keep my eye on the clock and my other eye out for Kaleu. Go make your rounds, I’ve got your girl. McKay was looking for you over in North 12.” Dana tells the attending, sending him a smile. Jack sends her back a relieved smile, making his way over to North 12 to check on the R4.
Jack had an uneventful next four hours, checking on Y/N and Kaleu every two hours, without incident. His luck is broken with Kaleu nosing the door open to Y/N’s room forcefully, rushing to where he can smell Jack, sitting at his computer, charting. The huge Newfoundland barks at Jack, pulling his attention from the computer, grabbing a hold of his pant leg when he gets close, tugging him towards her room.
Jack flips on the light, looking over the monitors, locking onto her heart rate. “Dana! Get Robby!” He yells to the charge nurse, who nods back and rushes off to find the day shift attending. Jack rushes back into the room, pushing for the blood pressure cuff to inflate, watching as it sends out a normal reading.
“What happened? I thought she was stable?” Robby asked when he entered the room, snapping on a pair of gloves.
“She was, but Kaleu came and got me, and I found her like this. BP is good, 114/84, heart rate is 187.” Jack says, moving to shine his penlight in her eyes. “I want to start with four of metoprolol, see if that brings it down.” Jack looks towards Dana, watching her nod and rush out to the med cart. She comes back with the syringe, handing it to Robby. He quickly swabs the IV port, pushing the medication. They watch the monitor for several long minutes, waiting for the numbers to go down. “It’s not budging. Push two of Esmolol.” Jack orders, watching as Dana pulls it from her pocket, handing it over to Robby. “You read my mind, Dana?” Jack jokes, watching the monitor.
“I just know you that well.” The older woman says, her eyes also glued to the screen. Everyone in the room lets out a breath as they watch the numbers slowly lower, seeing her blood pressure stay steady while her heart rate goes down. Y/N sighs in her sleep, snuggling further down into the bed. Robby steps up to the computer, scanning his badge in while Dana leaves the room, going back to the hub.
“Kaleu, alert, pressure.” Jack softly commands, watching the dog jump back onto the bed, lying himself back over Y/N, closing his blue eyes. The night shift attending steps back from the bed, moving to leave the room, Robby following close behind.
“How often is the POTS spiking like that? I thought she had it under control?” Robby asks, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans back against the hub.
“It was under control for a long time. It’s just recently started acting up again. I’ve been telling her to make an appointment with her cardio, but she hasn’t yet. I might just have to do it for her now.” Jack says. He runs a hand over the scruff on his face, watching through the curtain of Y/N’s room as she sleeps, Kaleu lying over her.
“Until she can get in, I’m gonna prescribe her something different. Has she only taken the heart meds, nothing else?” Robby asks, moving to one of the computers, scanning his badge to open her chart.
“Only heart meds. I’ve told the doctor to give her a cocktail, but he thinks he knows best. He doesn’t see the shit that I see her struggle with.” Jack says, huffing angrily.
“I’m gonna send you guys home with Ivabradine for her heart and Midodrine to hopefully prevent something like this from happening again. Before you guys go home, I want to see her eat something with some salt, too. I’ll send Emma down to get her something from the cafeteria to eat on her next cognitive checks.” Jack nods along with Robby, looking for the new nurse. “I also have a friend who works over in cardio that owes me a favor, I’ll have her get Y/N in for her next available appointment.” Robby winks over at his friend, typing on the computer.
Jack walks closer to his friend, clapping him on the shoulder. “Thank you, brother. You have no idea how much weight that takes off my shoulders. I gotta go find Emma, then make my rounds. I put Kaleu into an alert command, so he’ll watch over her.” Jack pats Robby’s shoulder one more time before wandering off to find the young nurse.
The rest of Jack's shift is quiet, with no more alerts from Kaleu and no traumas. He gently sets his bag down just in front of the door, moving to stand next to the bed. “Kaleu, release.” He commands softly, leaning down to wake his wife. “Hey, baby. Time to go home. Let’s get you dressed.” He says, softly. He carefully helps her sit up, shrugging out of the hospital gown, back into her pants she came in, and changing her bloodied shirt for one of the extras Jack keeps in his backpack. He helps her stand, moving slowly to the door, Kaleu steadying her other side. They slowly make their way past the hub, saying goodbye to Dana and Perlah, moving towards the ambulance bay doors.
Jack gently lowers Y/N to sit on the bench outside, kissing her head before stepping back. “I’m gonna go grab the truck, I’ll be right back. Kaleu, alert.” He commands the dog before quickly walking off, as fast as his prosthetic would allow.
He makes it back to his wife in record time, helping her into the truck, letting Kaleu settle between her legs before closing the door, and getting in on the driver's side. “Let’s get you home.” He says softly, resting his hand on Y/N’s thigh, keeping it there the whole ride home.
When they get home, Jack helps Y/N out of the truck, walking with her tucked into his side, guiding her into their bedroom once they're inside. He helps her out of her pants, leaving his shirt on her, helping her settle back into their bed. He walks around to his side of the bed, stripping out of her scrubs, sitting on the edge of the bed to remove his prosthetic, letting it rest against his bedside table. Once it’s off, he fully gets into bed, pulling Y/N into his side. He watches as Kaleu shakes, fluffing out his fur before jumping on the bed, settling behind Y/N, boxing her in on the bed. Jack smiles to himself, listening as Y/N’s breathing evens out, then Kaleu’s snoring fills the room, before he lets himself drift.
random jack abbot headcannons that i choose to believe are true;
⟢ absolutely does that dad thing where he falls asleep on the couch, open mouth snoring. when someone wakes him up he SWEARS he “wasn’t even sleeping.”
⟢ loves the princess bride with a passion. can quote pretty much the entire movie, still laughs at every joke like it’s the first time he’s hearing it.
⟢ CANNOT visit animal shelters. will come home with every animal there. especially if he sees a dog with three legs.
⟢ if someone/something steps on or runs over his prosthetic & there’s a wall behind him, he 100% will slip off the leg, & scream as loud as he can, followed by; “MY LEG!? YOU RIPPED OFF MY LEG?” (first time he did it to whitaker he almost passed out.)
⟢ says “what are you, a cop?” if people ask him a lot of questions.
⟢ is actually a pretty good singer, get him drunk & he’ll do karaoke.
⟢ likes to hum to himself. turns beet red if he’s ever caught.
⟢ talks to animals like they’re babies. will pretend to wait for them to answer & have a full conversation with them.
⟢ if someone walks away while he’s talking to them, he’ll finish the conversation for them; “oh yeah, thanks dr. abbot, that’s great dr. abbot” & throw a hand in the air like he’s never been more offended.
⟢ once he got comfortable enough without his leg, he absolutely went as a pirate for halloween a few times.
⟢ LOVES scaring robby like it gives him air. will wait around corners, walk up silently behind him. anything to watch him jump. he’s the bane of robby’s existence.
⟢ says “do a flip” if he finds robby on the roof (on the safe side of the railing only !! & if he’s not crying.)
⟢ plays into the whole “grumpy attending” role way too much. he never lets anyone know what he’s thinking. except dana, she always knows.
⟢ takes his coffee black & bitter, sighs like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted.
⟢ exclusively wears sweatpants & those dri fit workout shirts at home.
⟢ actually very sweet & caring/serious when he needs to be. don’t mess with any of his med students/interns unless you wanna lose a hand. he doesn’t play about their safety. calls all of them “kid.”
⟢ loves a good sunrise. he’ll never say it but that’s one of his favorite parts about working nights.
⟢ he & robby carved their initials in the railing on the roof together one night after a hard shift.
⟢ picks up randomly chronically online phrases & uses them to make the med students & interns cringe. his favorite is “i have nothing appropriate to say”, if he doesn’t want to comment. no matter what the context is. he thinks it’s hilarious.
─ ─── ─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ─── ─── ─
might do a part 2 if it’s wanted ?? should I do robby next ?? :)
pairing: steve harrington x shy!reader
words: 1.3k
contains: fluff, established relationship, boyfriend!steve, use of pet names (pretty girl, baby), use of y/n, female reader with she/her pronouns, descriptions of period cramps and pain.
author's note: another request! really felt this as had my period last week and it sucked!! also i've been really obsessed with chocolate covered pretzels lately so that explains the mention of them in this fic. hope you this enjoy anon!! i know i would love steve harrington to take care of me on my period🥺
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Steve Harrington hummed to himself as he walked out of the flower shop—a bouquet of red roses and sunflowers clutched in his hand as he headed back to his beamer.
You had called about an hour ago to reschedule your date—mumbling something about food poisoning and apologising purposefully for cancelling at the last minute. Steve waved away your apologies, his concern for you outweighing the dinner reservation he had made and the new shirt he had bought for the occasion.
You may have only been together for two months but Steve was falling hard and he was falling fast. It should have scared him—after Nancy Wheeler had broken his heart—but when he looked at you, he didn't see hesitation in your eyes like he had seen with Nancy. He didn't spend his evenings wondering if he had done something wrong. No, instead when he looked at you he felt seen. Wanted. Everything he had ever needed and more.
And so, he didn't think twice about grabbing you a bouquet of flowers, some saltine crackers and heading straight to your house—your favourite hoodie of his on his passenger seat as he drove. All he wanted to do was look after you—look after his girl.
The hot water bottle pressed to your lower stomach seemed to offer no reprieve from the cramps you were experiencing. The pain wasn't unbearable but it was enough that you hadn't wanted to leave the house—which was why you had cancelled your date with Steve. You had told him it was food poisoning. You felt bad for the little white lie but your relationship was still new and you felt a little awkward telling him about your period pains.
But Steve hadn't questioned it. And so, you were curled up on your couch watching Family Ties while you prayed that the pain in your lower abdomen would lessen. But of course, it didn't.
You had just managed to find the strength to go into your kitchen to find your emergency stash of chocolate covered pretzels when the doorbell rang.
You groan inwardly—you had a feeling that it was your chatty neighbour. Mrs .Palmer liked to visit you at least once a day when your parents were away. It was sweet, really, but god could she talk. Yesterday, you had spent nearly forty minutes talking about hydrangeas with her.
You adjust your hot water bottle against your lower stomach as you walk slowly towards the front door.
And when you open it and see Steve standing on your front porch—a gorgeous bouquet of sunflowers and red roses in one hand, a large box of saltine crackers in the other and that dark green hoodie of his tucked under his arm—you can't hide the surprise on your face. Eyes wide—lips parted. Hot water bottle still pressed against your cramping stomach.
"Hey, pretty girl," he says with a smile that makes your face warm. Steve had that effect on you. He was always making you feel flustered—loved to watch you squirm when he complimented you for no reason. "Couldn't let you suffer alone—hope that's okay."
You blink—guilt at lying to Steve building in your gut as your eyes flicker over his face and then back at the flowers in his hand. They looked expensive. It made you feel even worse.
"Y-yeah, it-it's fine," you stutter out quietly, averting eye contact as you glance down at the bag of milk chocolate pretzels in your hand.
Steve's eyes follow yours and he smiles, shaking his head. "I don't think pretzels will make you feel better, baby," he tells you as you step aside wordlessly to let him in. "C'mon, you need crackers and some water."
You swallow—watching as Steve walks confidently into your kitchen. You watch as he finds a vase for the bouquet he had brought you—taking care to rearrange them as you stand silently in the doorway. Steve hums to himself—that same Kate Bush song he always seemed to be humming—so at ease with taking care of you that it almost made you feel dizzy with affection for him.
Steve turns to look at you, his eyes softening when he sees the miserable look on your face.
"Oh baby, you don't look so good," he says gently, setting the vase down on your window sill, the hoodie on your kitchen table and stepping closer to you. "I-I mean—you look beautiful. You always do but—" His eyes then drop down to the hot water bottle you had pressed against your lower and he goes quiet.
Your face feels hot and you quickly try to adjust the bottle against your stomach to try and hide it from view. But you knew it was too late—Steve's eyes flicker back to yours in understanding.
"Oh, (y/n)," he says gently, hands cupping your face and ducking down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. "You don't really have food poisoning do you?"
You bite the inside of your cheek and shake your head.
"That's okay," he tells you, pressing another kiss to your forehead and pulling away just enough to look at you. "You should have said, I would have understood."
"I just—I felt a little awkward," you murmur back quietly. "We haven't been together long and I didn't want to gross you out or—"
"No," Steve interrupts—not harshly, just firmly. "No—absolutely not. Periods are natural, (y/n). Not gross. Not at all. I'm not a stupid teenage boy anymore. I'm your boyfriend. You can tell me about this stuff—I want to know when you're not feeling one hundred per cent."
You nod, one hand still clutching the pretzel bag while the other finds the sleeve of his sweater and tugging at it gently.
Steve gets the hint. He smiles as he wraps his arms around you—pulling you against his chest. You practically melt into him, seeking his warmth and that fluttery feeling that lived in your stomach when you were around him.
You don't see it, but Steve smiles as you hug him back. You have always been very shy. Too shy some would say. Steve never thought so—he liked that you quietly observed the world. He liked that you were thoughtful and always thought about what you were about to say. He liked that you would bury your face into his shoulder after he complimented you. Steve just—he really fucking liked you.
You stay like that for a few moments. Steve could have remained there for the entire evening. But he knew you were likely in pain and he couldn't stand the thought of that for even a second.
"Now," he says, pressing another kiss to the top of your head before pulling away to look at you. "What do you need, baby? You need me to order you some pizza? Go out and get more pretzels for you? Maybe some axe throwing?"
You shake your head, biting back a laugh and feeling incredibly touched by his offers—god, he was good. He was so good and had you not been on your period, you probably would have wanted to take him upstairs and spend the night tangled together in your sheets. But that's not what you needed right now.
"Just you is fine," you tell him finally.
Steve smiles, something in his chest tightening as he looks back at you.
"Yeah?" he murmurs, fingers gently brushing your hair behind your ear. "Want me to take care of you?"
"Please."
Steve can't help himself, he leans in to press the sweetest of kisses against your lips. It was soft. Gentle. No rush—just his way of trying to say everything he wasn't ready to say yet."C'mon, I'll look after you," he murmurs, thumb brushing over your chin before he taps your nose gently. "You're in for a long night of cuddling, pretty girl."
When Eddie walks into the cafeteria holding Chrissy Cunningham's hand, Y/N's world stops spinning
3.8K Words
A/N-Hello, everyone! I hope you like this one! Enjoy!
REQUESTS ARE OPEN
DIVIDER BY @dreamlandcreations
Y/N set her tray down in her normal spot at the cafeteria table, right next to Eddie's spot at the head of the table. Gareth and Jeff greeted her softly before going back to their conversation across the table. Y/N sent a smile their way, popping a tater tot in her mouth, waiting for the rest of the table to arrive. Soon, Dustin, Mike, and Will took their seats, Lucas coming not long after.
Y/N talked softly with Will, who sat across from her, smiling and laughing at a retelling of something Mike had done over the summer. Her smile instantly dropped as she watched Eddie get closer to the table, his ring-clad hand entwined with Chrissy Cunningham's smaller one. Eddie sat in his spot, looking at where Will sat. "Hey, man, could you scoot down a seat so Chrissy can sit next to me?" He asked, smiling at the younger boy. Will nodded his head, his eyes cutting to Y/N, moving down a seat.
Y/N sat frozen in her seat, her eyes locked on their joined hands, her breathing shallow. She snapped out of it when he felt Will set his foot on top of hers, giving her a soft smile. She gave herself a soft head shake, looking down at her tray, shoving another tater tot in her mouth. Eddie greeted the rest of the table, but his eyes quickly shot back to Chrissy, and Y/N could almost physically see the hearts thumping out of his brown orbs. She tossed another few tots into her mouth before looking at the rest of the table. She cleared her throat, pushing her chair out from the table.
"I'm not feeling all that great. I think I'm gonna head home; I'll see you guys later." She murmured, picking her tray up from the table, and tossing the whole thing in the garbage can before all but running out to her car in the parking lot.
Eddie watched her leave, a glimmer of worry in his Bambi eyes.
When Y/N got home, she slammed her bedroom door behind her, throwing her backpack on the ground as she moved to her dresser. She pulled a pair of sweatpants and an oversized shirt out, moving to the bathroom to change. She paused as she pulled the shirt over her head, ripping it off quickly when she realized it belonged to Eddie. She chucked it in the corner, moving back into her room to find something else to wear.
When she was dressed, she flung herself onto her bed, covering her face with her pillow, holding it tightly over her face in hopes that she could smother the images of Chrissy and Eddie holding hands out of her head. When it didn't work, she tossed the pillow to the side, turning to her bedside table, flicking on her radio, tuning into The Squawk, just in time to hear Robin and Steve come on air.
"That, ladies and gentlmen was 'I Just Died In Your Arms', by Cutting Crew, and up next is 'You Give Love A Bad Name', by Bon Jovi, right after these commercials. Don't go anywhere, we'll be right back, Hawkins!" Robin's voice faded out, being replaced by the grating, low voice of the long-gone Mayor Kline, saying something about laws being set in place around Hawkins for the foreseeable future. Y/N couldn't help but snort. That's rich, coming from a man who's in prison for breaking just about every law known to man, just to get a little extra money from Starcourt Mall before it went up in flames. Y/N thought gravely.
She turned on her side, pulling the covers up over her shoulder, letting the soothing voice of Jon Bon Jovi lull her into a dreamless sleep.
When Y/N opened her eyes, her room was bathed in an orange glow, the setting sun painting the wall with the most vibrant colors. She rolled onto her side, pulling her hands from under the covers, rubbing them across her eyes, squinting harshly when she moved her hands again, looking at the clock on her dresser. She pushed the covers off of her and trudged out of the room and down the stairs to the kitchen. She stopped to check in the living room for her parents, but the room was empty. If they're not home by now, they're obviously not coming home for a few days. Who knows where they ran off to today? Y/N rolled her eyes, walking into the kitchen and to the fridge.
She rummaged around the fridge for several seconds before pulling leftover pizza out, shoving a bite into her mouth. She pulls herself away from the fridge when she hears a knock on the front door. Her brows furrow as she makes her way to the door, looking through the peephole to see who it is. She rolls her eyes when she spots Eddie on the other side. She walks away from the door, stopping in the kitchen to grab the box of pizza, bringing it up the stairs with her. She closes her bedroom door quietly, sitting down on her bed. She waits for the knocking to stop before exhaling harshly, lying back down on the bed, still chewing the pizza.
Y/N lies for several minutes, staring at the ceiling until it blurs with tears, tears rolling down the side of her face, soaking into the pillow under her head. She wipes the tears away, but they're only replaced with more tears.
She shoots her head up when she hears a sound outside her window. She squints at the glass until she sees a mop of brown, curly hair struggle up onto the roof. She quickly turns onto her side away from the window, pretending to sleep, hoping Eddie would go away. She squeezes her eyes tight when she hears the window slide open, Eddie's boots hitting the carpeted floor with a thud.
He walks around the side of the bed, squating down in front of Y/N on the bed. He raises his ring-clad hand, running it over her hair, pushing some away from her face. His brows furrow when he sees the tear tracks on her cheeks, running his thumb over them. He sighs, moving back over to the window. He looks back at Y/N one more time before stepping out of the window and onto the roof. He turns around, closing the window behind him before crawling down the trelis and into the backyard.
Y/N exhales when she hears the window close, turning onto her back when she hears the trelis shake. She lay on the bed, unmoving for several minutes before getting up. She walks over to the window, flipping the lock and pulling the shades in front of the glass. She shuffles back to the bed, crawling onto the plush mattress and pulling the covers over her head, letting the tears fall unbidden from her eyes.
Eddie sits in his spot at the cafeteria table, his eyes glued to the door. He hadn't seen Y/N in two days now. He had gone to see her the night she left school early, but she had been asleep. It broke his heart to see his best friend sleeping with dried tear tracks on her cheeks, but he hadn't wanted to wake her, so he left soon after. That was two days ago, and she still hasn't shown up at school. As the Hellfire club table filled with its usual occupants, Eddie still stared at the door, even as Chrissy sat down next to him. He sent a brief smile to his girlfriend before returning his gaze to the door, pulling apart a fry held between his fingers.
"Eddie, man. She's not here. She wasn't in my English class or in Jeff's gym class. I'm sure she just has the flu or something; she'll be back in a few days." Gareth said to the older boy, pulling him from his thoughts.
"I'm just worried about her. I had gone to see her the other day, and it looked like she had been crying. I'm just worried somebody said something to her to make her upset." Eddie looked down at his plate, missing the look Will and Gareth shared.
"I'm sure she'll be back tomorrow. I can check on her later if you want? I share history and math with her, I'll take the homework to her and check that she's okay." Chrissy said, smiling softly at her boyfriend. Eddie grinned at her, nodding his head as he leaned in for a kiss, making the head cheerleader giggle softly.
Eddie didn't check the door for the rest of the lunch period.
Y/N huffed out a breath, jaw tight as she stood from the couch, making her way to the door. Eddie had been over the last two days after school, but she has yet to answer the door. She's ready to tell him to get lost when she opens the door, but is greeted by Chrissy on the other side of the door. The scowl drops from her face, replaced by a look of surprise.
"Chrissy, hi." She softly says, her eyes roving over the preppy girl on her doorstep.
"Hi, Y/N! I'm here to drop off homework and check on you. Eddie is really worried about you. I promised him I'd make sure you're okay. Can I come in?" She asks, smiling at the other girl.
"Um, yeah, sure," Y/N says, stepping out of the way for her to walk through the doorway. She follows her to the living room, plopping down on the far end of the sofa. Chrissy sits on the chair closest to Y/N, setting the textbooks and papers down on the coffee table.
"So, what do your parents do?" Chrissy asks after what felt like an eternity of awkward silence between the two.
"Um, my mom owns Hawkins Petals, and my dad is the Hawkins medical supply manager for the hospital and the clinics. But I don't see them much. They're always running off somewhere that's not here, not around me." Y/N says bitterly. She falls silent after that, preferring not to talk about her parents.
They sit in silence for another few minutes before either of them says anything. "Well, I hope you're feeling better. Eddie has been really worried about you." The blonde cheerleader says while standing. "I should be heading out now, Eddie and I have a date planned tonight, and I still need to get ready. Hopefully, we'll see you at school tomorrow!" Chrissy smiles one more time at the other girl before heading towards the door, closing it gently behind her.
Y/N watches her go with tears filling her eyes, looking down at her lap when she hears the door click. She quickly wipes the tears from her eyes, deciding she's not going to cry about Eddie anymore. She'll distance herself from him, and she'll get over this stupid little crush. Starting at school tomorrow, she's not going to interact with Eddie unless she has to.
Y/N walks into the cafeteria alone, walking to the opposite side where her usual table is, moving to where a few girls from some other classes sit. She sits down quietly, refusing to look in Eddie's direction. Amanda greeted her, pulling her into the conversation seamlessly. She doesn't say much the whole lunch period, keeping her head down, staring at the untouched food on the tray. She looks at the clock above the door, seeing that the bell is about to ring, so she gets up, says goodbye to Amanda, and throws her tray in the trash, leaving the room just as the bell rings. Everyone begins to file out of the lunchroom, but Y/N can still hear Eddie call after her, rushing to get closer to her. Y/N fled the lunch room before he could reach her, almost sprinting down the hallway to her next class.
Unfortunately, her next class was history, which meant she had to see Chrissy. She takes the last spot in the back, making sure Chrissy can't sit around her and talk to her. She darts her eyes down to her notebook on the desk when she sees the cheerleader walk in. She keeps her eyes down the whole class, rushing out of the room before Chrissy can catch up to her. She catches sight of Eddie as he comes around the corner, his eyes wide when he spots her. He opens his mouth to say something, but she moves in the opposite direction from him, losing him in the chaos of Hawkins High School's passing period.
Eddie hasn't been able to catch Y/N for four days now. She always walks the other way when she sees him, sits at a different lunch table, and doesn't interact with any of their friends anymore. He's losing his mind trying to figure out what happened. He's sitting with Chrissy and Wayne in their trailer when his life turns upside down.
~*~
"I just don't understand what happened to her. It's like she's a pod person or something!" Eddie knows he sounds insane, but he can't help it! His best friend has dropped his whole group without so much as a look in their direction. "She won't even look at us! She won't talk with Gareth or Jeff in their shared classes. I mean, even if she's mad at me, -for something I don't even know I did!- she could at least still talk to the others!" Eddie rants, pacing back and forth from the dining table to the fold-out bed folded against the wall.
Wayne sighs heavily, rubbing his hand over his forehead. "Eds, yer gonna wear a hole in the carpet, sit down, boy," Wayne says, exasperated. Eddie sits down on the couch, Chrissy threading her fingers through his. Eddie smiles over at her, kissing her temple softly. Wayne sighs again, sitting back in his recliner, taking a pull from his beer. "Eddie, Y/N isn't mad at you; she's hurt."
"Why would she be hurt? I didn't do anything!" Eddie almost yells, getting worked up all over again. Wayne raises his hand, telling Eddie to calm down. Eddie quiets down again, sinking into the couch.
"Chrissy, darling, would you give Eds and me a minute?" Wayne asks, smiling at the petite blonde. She nods and stands, moving to Eddie's bedroom, closing the door behind her. Eddie whips his head around, squinting his eyes at his uncle. "Eds, Y/N is hurt because she's had a crush on you for a long time, and you waltz into the cafeteria holding Chrissy's hand, throwing yer relationship with her in her face. So, of course, she's hurt." Eddie stares at Wayne with a blank look. He blinks several times before opening his mouth, then closes it, opening it again to talk.
"There's no way she likes me! I think I would have noticed if she liked me!" Wayne just stares at Eddie with an unimpressed look on his face, letting his nephew put the puzzle together on his own. "No, no, she can't like me!" The metalhead stands, starting his pacing again, his hands pressed to the top of his head, his breathing harsh. Wayne lets the boy pace, mumbling to himself. "How long have you known? Who all knows?" He asks, sitting back down on the couch.
"I've known since the day she walked through that door, following you back into your room. And I'm pretty sure everyone, but you, knows." Wayne smirks, taking another swig of his beer, still watching his nephew have an existential crisis in their living room.
"I need to talk to her! Oh my-! Wait, Chrissy is here!" Eddie rushes back to his room, swinging the door open before slamming it roughly. Eddie placed his hands on top of his head, closing his eyes for a brief moment before opening them again, looking at Chrissy. "Sh-she likes me. That's why she won't sit with us, or talk to any of us." He whispers, looking anywhere but at Chrissy. He hears her intake of breath, fearing the worst from her. But when she places her hands softly on his cheeks, he opens his eyes to see her giving him a soft, almost sad smile.
"I thought maybe she did when she saw me in the hallway this morning, and all but sprinted away from me," Chrissy wipes the tear rolling down Eddie's cheek away with her thumb, her eyes roving over his face. "It's okay, go talk to her. I'll be fine. She deserves you." Eddie shakes his head, his big Bambi eyes filling with tears again. "Eddie, it's okay. I'll be perfectly fine. I know you like her, too. I would feel so guilty if I kept you from each other." Chrissy moves her hands from his face, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek one last time before moving around him, walking out of the trailer after saying her goodbyes to Wayne.
Y/N lay in bed, The Squawk playing softly on her radio next to her bed. She drummed her fingers on her stomach, along with 'I Love Rock And Roll' by Joan Jett and the Blackhearts, as it floated through the speakers. Robin begins to talk over the radio, but her soothing voice is drowned out by frantic knocking on the front door. Y/N worries for a quick second that whoever is on the other side of the door might break it down.
She sits upright in bed, pushing the covers off her legs, swinging them over the bed, and making her way to the top of the stairs. She stands at the railing, deciding whether she wants to open the door or not. She steps down onto the first stair when she hears his voice.
"Hey, it's- it's Eddie. Open the door, please." His voice sounds rougher and as if he's out of breath. She sits down on the floor, shoving her hands under her legs to keep them from shaking. "Come on, Y/N/N, I know you're home. I just wanna talk." He calls through the door. Tears fill Y/N's eyes, but she can't blink them away.
The house around her goes silent. She can hear every breath she takes, every blink she makes; she's sure every tiny move or sound she makes echoes through the empty house, taunting her, reminding her of just how alone she is. She sits still, waiting for Eddie to either say something else or walk away. He knocks again, softer this time. "I know you're in there. Open the door. Please." He says, gently now.
Y/N softly pads down the stairs, stopping just feet away from the door. She waits a few seconds before moving closer. She doesn't open the door, instead looking through the peephole. Eddie stands on the porch, his hair in disarray, like he has been running his hands through it, over and over again. His cheeks are flushed, his breathing hard. Did he run here? It's like two miles away from the trailer park. Y/N moves to open the door, but thinks better of it. She's trying to get over her crush on Eddie, not let it come back with vengeance. She steps back, closer to the stairs, but stops when another knock sounds through the thick wood.
"I know you're in there, and you can hear me, so please don't do this. Just talk to me, please." Eddie calls, sounding defeated. Y/N stands still for one to many seconds, letting Eddie talk again. "Please, Y/N/N." She shakes her head, moving closer to the stairs. She makes it halfway up the staircase when she hears something that she thought she would never hear. "Chrissy and I broke up." The breath leaves her lungs the second the sentence is out. She turns slowly, staring at the door. "It was mutual, I didn't hurt her. I just- we both found something out. And we couldn't be together if we knew about it. So, please. Open the door and talk to me." He says, and she can hear when he thunks his head on the door.
Y/N rushes down the stairs, missing the bottom step in total as she flies to the door, ripping it open. Eddie stumbles forward, nearly falling into the house before he regains his balance.
Eddie's eyes meet Y/N, searching her face for something, but he's not quite sure what. "Hey, uh, hi." He says, trying to smile, but it comes out as more of a grimace than a smile. Y/N steps to the side, letting Eddie walk into the living room.
The air is thick, sticking to the back of Y/N's throat, making swallowing hard. She sits down on the couch, watching Eddie. He paces once, stops, opens his mouth to say something, but closes it and paces again. He stops again, raising his right hand to rub at the back of his neck, unsure where to start or what to say to make everything better.
"I didn't know." He drops his hand, wringing both hands together, twisting his rings around his fingers. "I promise I didn't know. Chrissy didn't either, until today, when she saw you run the other way when you saw each other in the hallway at school."
"Eddie-"
"I never meant to hurt you, I swear. If I'dve known, I wouldn't have gotten together with Chrissy." Eddie wrings his hands again as he sits down in front of Y/N. "Chrissy is a great, sweet girl, but we were never gonna work out in the long run. I mean, she's a popular cheerleader, and I'm the town freak; it was bound to crash and burn eventually." Eddie pulls Y/N's hands into his lap, rubbing his thumb back and forth on her knuckles. "Being with Chrissy was great, but it didn't feel right. I couldn't figure it out until Wayne told me about you. Then it was almost like the universe stopped spinning, and I could stop ignoring the feeling I had for you that I shoved way back in the recesses of my mind."
"Why didn't you say anything before?"
"'Cause I thought you deserved someone better. Someone that actully has life goals, who didn't take three tries to graduate stupid high school. Someone who doesn't have a stupid dream of making music for a living, touring the world," Eddie pauses, staring at her hands. "And 'cause I'm an idiot. Because I didn't know you felt the same way." Y/N's chest felt tight, her head spinning at his confession. "I ran here, 'cause I know if I didn't talk to you soon, the guilt would eat me alive, knowing that I'm the reason you stopped talking to everyone."
Y/N stares at Eddie for what feels like a million years before she moves closer, pulling her hands from his, resting them on the sides of his face. "I think I deserve to decide who's good enough for me, and whose not. And I know that you're the best for me." Y/N lets Eddie pull her closer, crashing his lips into hers. He's gentle- soft and reverent. His lips are soft, slightly chapped, but Y/N wouldn't have it any other way. She melts into the kiss, letting Eddie pull her into his lap, his large hands resting on her hips.
Eddie pulls away first, opening his eyes to stare into hers. "Hi." He murmurs.
"Hi." Y/N murmurs back, finally smiling for the first time in days.
𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
Summary: After four long years of pining, it's high time you tell your crush you like him and quite possibly your last chance to, luckily there's no better time for love confessions than Valentine's Day. If only you hadn't chosen to do so anonymously, because you're pretty sure he's hoping his secret admirer is someone else.
Warnings: pining, angst, misunderstandings, very brief (blink and you miss it) descriptions of oncoming panic attack (doesn't happen), Heather Holloway being a sweetie, and a whole lot of fluff
a/n: I did way too much for something that was supposed to be 2.k word count wise, and is definitely going to flop because of how late I'm posting it but I don't care because it is still technically Valentine's Day. A HUGE thank you to @kitmon for being my incredible beta-half (get it?) and if you like slow burns (and I mean the best ‘GET TOGETHER ALREADY but also please take your time really finding and understanding each other’ fics), go devour their masterlist. Happy reading and Happy Valentine's day ♡
word count: 10k
You stood posted by a row of lockers, peaking around the corner of the hall to watch as the longtime object of your affections laughed at something one of his friends said.
“Are you stalking him again?”
You jumped, clutching your biology book to your chest as you swiveled around to face Heather, your best friend.
“Geez!” You hissed out, voice low as you checked to make sure you hadn’t attracted his attention.
But it’s you, so of course you hadn’t. Eddie was still leaning up against his locker and chatting away, face framed by the mane he called his hair. His curls were defined much more than usual—clearly he’d washed his hair before school which meant he must have been up early. Why did you know that????
“I’m not stalking him,” you grumbled and Heather giggled. “I’m just observing him.”
“Well, stop observing him and go talk to him.” She nudged your shoulder, giving you a reassuring smile.
“I’m gonna—,” You answered with false bravado that soon wavered, “. . . eventually. Look, I have a plan. Okay, today is a new day, Valentine’s Day and the perfect day for romance. No more watching from the sidelines─”
Heather coughed out a stalking, followed by another cough, all of which you ignored.
“No more quietly pining, I’m telling him how I feel.”
Heather raised her eyebrows, tongue clicking.
“Let me get this straight, you’re not only going to actually exchange words with him, you’re actually going to tell Eddie Munson about your feelings?”
Your heart fluttered just at the mention of him.
Edward Wayne Munson. Eddie.
You’d had a crush on him since your freshman year of high school, and contrary to your best friend’s earlier statement, you had exchanged words with him already. Sorta. Basically.
Freshman year you’d ate shit in the hallway, tripping over literally nothing and all your belongings had scattered, he’d stopped walking to help you pick your things up before he was off again. It wasn’t much conversation, but he did say something about those invisible rocks people left lying around.
Then your sophomore year, he’d sat behind you with his club at the school’s mandatory pep rally. One of his friends had accidentally jostled you and Heather a little too roughly when he was finding his seat and Eddie had apologized on his behalf.
Then last year he’d held the cafeteria door open for you and your friends when you slipped in. That time, you’d been the one to thank him and he had said you’re welcome. Almost unprompted!
So, yeah. Maybe you were a little delusional, it didn’t matter though. What mattered was you were running out of time.
Somehow, Eddie had managed to fail the past two years, allowing you to catch up to him but that meant you were now a senior as well. You’d let the other chances to approach him pass you by because you were too scared of rejection, this was your last chance.
The college acceptance letter you’d received at the start of the week also spurred your bravery, if he rejected you, you only had a few months left until you were on your way to California, there’d be all those states between the two of you.
You had nothing to lose, so today was gonna be the day.
“Yes,” you took a deep breath, slowly exhaling as the determination sank deep into your bones. “I’m gonna tell him.”
“How are you gonna do that?” She cocked her head, the curls of her side ponytail bouncing.
“I’m glad you asked, my friend.” You grabbed her hand, dragging her down the hall to your partially opened locker. You pulled the door open fully to reveal a bouquet of roses, set on top of your books.
Her face wrinkled up in confusion, “You bought yourself flowers again?”
“No.” You glared at her, a hand scratching your head as you hissed out through gritted teeth, “And we promised not to bring that up anymore—these are for Eddie.”
Heather perked up at that, a hand resting over her chest as she fawned, “Dude, that is so cute! When are you gonna give them to him?”
“That’s the thing, I’m not actually going to give them to him directly. I need your help. You’ve got history with him, yeah?”
You already knew she did so it didn’t surprise you when she nodded. You slipped one rose from the bouquet and handed it to her.
“Can you leave this on his desk?”
“Sure! Wow, I can’t believe I get to be part of your love story,” she marveled, twirling the stem between her fingertips.
God, you hoped it’d be a love story and not a tragedy.
“And these are for you.” You pulled out a smaller bouquet of pink roses, and Heather just about burst into tears.
The two of you had been best friends since middle school, and often spent your free time watching corny teen movies, usually living through the main characters of the romance ones. You’d had a couple of almost-boyfriends, in the end you hadn’t been interested in them enough to accept when they’d try to make it official. And Heather simply hadn’t caught the eye of anyone, which was ridiculous to you considering how pretty and nice she was, so you were usually her valentine on Valentine’s Day. This was the first time you actually got her flowers instead of a bunch of chocolates to eat the night away, you’d figured she deserved them.
She’d had a crush on Steve Harrington, but he hadn’t noticed her and ended up dating and getting dumped by Nancy Wheeler. Then he’d dated every other girl except her. You feared your non-existent relationship with Eddie might go the same way.
“Dude,” Heather yanked you in for a hug, squeezing you to the point you thought your ribs might be bruised.
“Uhm. Heather. Ow.”
“Oh, sorry.” She released you, holding you by your shoulders, “Okay, so I just give it to him?”
“No, no, no, no, no. There will be no interactions. Just leave it on his desk.”
“Whatever you say, boss.”
You were about to reply when the first bell cut you off and threw you into a panic, nudging Heather in the direction of the classroom so she could beat Eddie there. Heather took off running once she realized the reason for your worry, only you both failed to remember Eddie was late to everything.
You reluctantly made your way to your first period, plagued by thoughts of Eddie’s reaction to the first rose.
Would he like it? Oh, you hoped he liked it.
What if he thought it was some prank? What if he threw it away? Would he do the same to the rest?
Oh, well. There was no backing out now.
Your carefully thought out plan was put into action. You’d made sure to play sick the last 15 minutes of every class to get an excuse note to the nurse, only you didn’t go to the nurse. Instead, you ran around leaving a rose in Eddie’s various hang outs. One at the creepy old bench you knew he did business at. Two roses with the stems placed through the slits of his locker, three on his windshield wipers, one of the younger students in your art class was in Hellfire with him and after swearing him to secrecy, Will had promised to deliver three to Eddie personally, without revealing your identity.
During lunch, you found yourself behind the stage of the cafeteria, in part of the drama department. It’s where Hellfire took place.
You’d been there a handful of times, only when your curiosity for the metalhead got a little too overwhelming for you and you wanted to feel closer to him without having to face him. It was only ever set up on Fridays, the day Eddie got to school early enough to do so.
You made your way over to sit in the chair closest to his throne, casting it a couple of nervous glances.
This would be where you left the last rose, so of course, everything about the set up, the throne had to look daunting to you now; a representation of how you were seeing Eddie as your confession grew nearer. If things didn’t go as planned, it’d be the last time you could come here.
The thought made your stomach hurt, a large void beginning to form there.
The last rose was much too personal to leave just anywhere, where someone without a key to the room would find it. No one but the Hellfire club would occupy this area today. Attached to the rose with a ribbon was a note with a simple message that meant more to you than you cared to admit. You’d written it when you first came up with your plan at the start of the week and had been debating on whether or not to sign your name since then.
The answer should’ve been obvious, right? This whole thing was to let Eddie know how you felt about him, and your romantic intentions were clear with the red roses. This note would finish implying the rest. And if you wanted Eddie to know it was you who admired him, you just had to write your name.
Yeah, simple as that.
You clicked the pen in your grasp, placing it just over the paper.
You wavered, licking your lips as you tried to convince yourself to just own your goddamn name. That’s all you had to do. Write on the paper.
Just write on the paper.
Your hand was beginning to shake, and with a heavy heart, you realized your name wouldn’t be going on this note.
You weren’t brave enough for that. You set your purple pen down, staring down at the words written in pink ink before you rolled the paper up, making sure the ribbon was secured (you’d used a hole puncher to slip the ribbon through) and left it on the seat of the throne before scurrying out of the room as fast as you could.
—
Eddie was at a loss, completely stupefied.
When he’d arrived at his history class, after having mentally prepared himself for the onslaught of boredom he’d face, he was surprised to find a single rose on his desk. By surprised, he meant incredibly suspicious. A glance around the room confirmed he wasn’t being watched, everyone was gossiping about Emmy Switcher’s upcoming party, so he’d settled into his seat and marveled at it.
Eddie wasn’t one to ever really get things on Valentine’s Day, not counting the mandatory valentine’s cards in elementary and middle school. The last time he’d gotten a card was his first senior year, and it had been a prank by a couple of girls on the softball team and their boyfriends. Embarrassed the shit out of him. The following Valentine’s Day he’d faked being sick to avoid falling victim again—god, he craved affection so much it made him pathetic enough to still hope for something gross and cheesy to happen to him.
A rose was harmless though, right? Unless it was poisoned or something. Eddie lifted it to his nose, but all he could pick up was the seductive floral scent and when he didn’t immediately pass out from chloroform, he figured it was just a rose.
He glanced around again in vain, hoping someone would somehow stick out and when no one did, he held it in his grasp, rough fingertips stroking over the soft petals for the duration of the class.
He’d been stunned when he arrived at his locker to find two roses hanging out of it. A few people were staring at him as he carefully pulled them from their place, but they looked more curious rather than shy or mischievous. He had a feeling whoever was leaving the roses for him wasn’t around.
He refused to leave them in his locker, the stems clutched in his hand as he went about his day and found more. Eddie was more than proud to display them, somewhat smug at the attention they were garnishing him.
He’d spent his English class convincing himself he’d never find out exactly who this someone was. He was pretty fucking stressed after that. He tried to come up with a roster of sorts, girls he thought might be interested in him enough to maybe leave him pretty flowers and woo him right out of his Reeboks.
He’d only been able to come up with four—impressive—but his first pick he was quick to scribble out. He hadn’t had a decent interaction with her and he figured it was creepy of him to put her at the top of the list all because of his wishful thinking.
The second girl listed was possible, maybe. Chrissy Cunningham. He’d had a crush on her for as long as he could remember since she was always nice to him. She’d dumped Jason a couple of months ago and he’d been dealing to her for a short amount of time, but she seemed pretty flirty to him. Although, flattery did work on him.
The third name made him nervous, and not in a good way. Tina Sawyer. They’d both got pretty drunk at her Halloween party and hooked up in her bathroom but she avoided him like the plague afterwards, obviously embarrassed about interacting with him, which was typical for the lot of Hawkins.
He’d been sure it was a drunken mistake but sometimes, he’d catch her staring at him, and she didn’t look all that disgusted with him.
The last name on the short list was that of Tammy Thompson. She had made her interest in Eddie pretty clear his junior year, always trying to sit behind him in classes so she could play with his hair. Unfortunately, Tammy was very, for the lack of better words, aggressive with her affections. He’d made out with her once and it had been sloppy and messy in the most unattractive of ways. It was like tonguing a dog.. Then he remembered she’d actually been able to graduate, unlike him, so he was spared.
By lunch, Eddie was ready to try to figure out who his secret admirer was. Out of the two remaining girls on his list, he was leaning more towards Chrissy, who he felt wouldn’t be ashamed to hold his hand in public.
He and his lunchbox full of drugs—and some snacks—made their way to the Hellfire lunch table where he spent a significant amount of time studying the two girls.
“Uh, are you okay, Eddie?”
Eddie glanced up at the concerned face of Will Byers, who’d arrived much later than the rest of the guys and Stephanie, one of the two girls in Hellfire. The question drew the attention of the rest of the table and Eddie internally sighed.
“Yeah, I’m fine—what are those?” Eddie asked, eyes honed in on the roses resting on Will’s tray.
The younger teen handed them over, “A girl told me to give you these.”
Eddie felt his heart skip a beat, “You know who she is?”
Will nodded and before Eddie could demand a name, he rushed, “I’ve been sworn to secrecy!”
Eddie scowled, carefully setting aside his roses so they wouldn’t be involved in his annoyance.
“Byers, I’m gonna level with you. I’ve been in this miserable prison for six long years. While I’ve had my fair share of hookups, I have not ever had a girl like me enough to leave me roses and do cute shit before. And I fear I never will again. That’s why I’m actually gonna need you to tell me who it is so I can have a girlfriend by the end of what is supposed to be the most god awful romantic day of the year. ‘Kay?”
Eddie’s eyebrows dart up, face set in an intimidating glower but Will remembers how scared you looked when you trusted him with this task. He also knows, very well, how it feels to love someone without them ever knowing because you fear what their response will be. He’d also seen Eddie eyeing both Chrissy and Tina.
Will knew what it was like to have that special person interested in someone else, too. So, he’d protect your secret.
“I swore.”
Eddie groaned, head dipping forward in a brief moment of defeat before he slammed his fist on the table, making the other occupants jump.
“Whatever, I’ll find her myself.” Just as Eddie stands, an idea occurs to him. Will said he wouldn’t tell him who it was, but the youngest Byers hadn’t said he wouldn’t tell him who it wasn’t, “Is it Tina?”
Will shakes his head, nose wrinkling. Nothing against her, she just wasn’t the nicest to him or his friends. Not the meanest, still.
Eddie breathes out a sigh, mumbling an oh, thank god as he makes his way to the cafeteria doors. That only left one possibility, and he was due to meet up with her in just five minutes. He couldn’t fight the grin off his face.
──
Your heart was racing a mile a minute, having witnessed everything transpire at the Hellfire table.
You’d selected your lunch table four years ago because of the perfect view of Eddie it provided you, but right then it was killing you. You’d ruined your manicure, picking aggressively at the polish as you watched Will and Eddie, breathing out a sigh of relief when it looked like Will hadn’t revealed your identity.
Eddie hadn’t seemed too happy about that.
Then he stormed out and you fought very hard with yourself to not follow after him because then Heather would be right and you’d be a stalker.
“Regret it yet?” Heather asked after she’d swallowed a bite of her sandwich.
“No.” You sorta lied. Yeah, you kind of regretted it but at the same time, knowing Eddie wouldn’t have to let you down gently made you less anxious. Besides, it wasn’t like you could just climb up the stage and duck past the curtain leading to the hellfire room without one of it’s members spotting you from their table. They’d tell Eddie in a heartbeat, especially if they found out the last rose and that damn note was there.
“Sure,” Heather drawled, glancing over her shoulder as you picked at your food, appetite suddenly gone.
Maybe you really should have written your name on that love note.
“Well, I hope you mean it, because Dream Girl is on her way to meet Ice Cream.” Your head snapped up at the mention of Chrissy Cunningham and Eddie’s code names you’d given them so both you and Heather were free to talk without either of them suspecting anything. You referred to Chrissy as Dream Girl because you’d known all about Eddie’s crush on her (while Heather had been depressed about Steve and Nancy, you’d eaten your weight in ice cream over Eddie and Chrissy’s more than friendly interactions with each other, which had nothing to do with Eddie’s code name—he was ‘ice cream’ because you wanted to lick him all over).
Sure enough, you looked over Heather’s shoulder, following her gaze to see Chrissy bidding her friends goodbye before she walked right out of the doors Eddie had pushed past minutes ago and as you watched her exit through the double doors, something inside you withers and dies a bit.
You knew Eddie sold to her (gave her a discount because she was pretty and because of their flirting, hearing him say that made you want to drive a knife right through your chest), you and Heather had followed them out a couple of times which is how you were both aware of the flirtationship.
After the first time you’d spied on them, the two of you had gone back to your home where Heather held a mock funeral for you. Now, you wished it had been a real one because you were sure Eddie had not only loved your roses, he also assumed they were from Chrissy. They would send him right into her arms at that shitty ass bench. And when he’d get a hold of the love note, well, you’d be the reason why Eddie and Chrissy would be hand in hand come Monday, canoodling by their lockers and kissing like no one else was watching. All the things Eddie should have been doing with you.
You should have signed your name on the fucking note.
─
Eddie had paced a pathway, disturbing the mounds of fallen leaves surrounding the picnic table.
His stuff, another rose he’d found waiting for him included, were on the table and he’d taken off his jacket, despite the chill of the February air. He was working himself up in his head, overheating in the process.
“Eddie?”
His head shot around, grinning as Chrissy—who apparently left him roses—approached him, face broken out in a smile.
“Hey, Chris.” Eddie’s heart was racing a mile a minute, palms sweaty as he rested them over his hips, then quickly realized he looked stupid so he crossed them instead.
She laughed at his nerves with absolutely no malice and they sat down at the bench, getting down to business. She’d been about to hand him a twenty dollar bill after he slid her the ziploc bag of nugs, but he held up his hand.
“On the house.”
“Eddie, it’s always on the house. I feel bad.”
“Then stop.” He emphasized the demand with bulging eyes, smirking when she giggled. She had to like him, right?
Eddie tried to be discreet about it, plucking one of the roses from his growing pile. He played with the stem, even sniffed the petals again in hopes she’d comment about it, maybe look a little excited about it or just give him any sort of reaction to indicate it had been her.
Chrissy was too busy moving things aside in her backpack to make room for the baggy. When she finally did look back up, she smiled, but gave no hint she was even familiar with them.
“Ooh, pretty flowers. Where’d you get those?”
Was she playing coy?
“Uh, someone’s been leaving them for me all around school.” Was it you?
Chrissy’s face lit up and Eddie thought it was finally the moment of truth.
“That’s so sweet! Do you know who it is? Or is it like a secret admirer sort of deal?”
Evidently, not the moment of truth. She had to be toying with him, trying to prolong the reveal. Because if it wasn’t her, he was out of ideas. And he really, really didn’t want to be out of ideas. Not when there was someone out there, maybe thinking about him.
“I actually have no idea who it is,” he sighed out, hoping if it was her, she’d just put him out of his damn misery already.
Chrissy, glanced down at the table and Eddie perked up. Nerves? Was she finally gonna come out with it?
“It wasn’t me, Eddie…but, I wish it had been.”
Eddie didn’t know what to say, mouth dropped open a little as his eyebrows quirked up in surprise.
Okay. Hadn’t been expecting that. He was expecting a yes it was me or a no it wasn’t me but not Chrissy confirming it hadn’t been her while also telling him she liked him.
“So, you haven’t been leaving them for me?”
Chrissy shook her head and reached across the table to place her smaller hand over his, palm warm against his skin. Eddie’s eyes squeezed shut as he groaned, head falling forward to rest against the table.
“Eddie?” Chrissy asked, concern lacing her voice.
He let out a very long sigh, a little miffed at how messy this whole thing had gotten. Now, there was his, Chrissy’s and someone else’s feelings in the mix. Christ.
“‘M’sorry, Chrissy.” Eddie sat up straight, face grim as he slowly pulled his hand out from underneath hers. “You’re great, fantastic, actually. You’re really nice and really pretty, but… I’ve been going crazy all day, trying to figure out who’s behind these.”
He gestures to the roses at his side, the sight of them filling him with an intense wave of longing.
“It’s been like years since I’ve gotten anything with real meaning behind it for any occasion—” he wasn’t counting the hellfire club or Wayne, referring to romantic intentions—“let alone Valentine’s Day, and someone in this school seems to be thinking about me.”
Eddie thought about what it must have taken to do something like this, it may have seemed like a trivial thought, something simple to others. He knew it wasn’t. He had no idea who it was, but he put himself in their position. They had to know enough about him to know his schedule, where he spent time, and then make the time to leave them in those spots just before he got there.
He’d spent the time waiting for Chrissy considering the anonymity of it. On the chance it wasn’t her, there was someone else in the school who was too afraid to approach him directly. He’d thought it might be out of fear of being seen with him, seen doing anything remotely romantic with him. Then, why even bother? They had to be afraid of his reaction, it’s what he would be nervous about if the positions were flipped.
And god, he’d never felt more alive before, more seen and all it took was a couple of roses. He felt like those fawning girls in John Hughes movies.
“Before today, I never would have approached you about this, you know? I know we flirt, but I never would have been brave enough to cross that line.” He admitted, looking into her shiny blue eyes. Aw, man. Eddie hated making girls cry but it was true, he would have been waiting for her to make a move, or for Tina to make a move. Any of his past hookups, really. He’d have been with any of them—having craved affection and everything that came with it so bad—if they had just been the ones to initiate things on a more permanent basis.
He would have. Past tense. They could all form a conga line and confess their undying love for him but, unless they were the one who left him the roses—the one who made him brave enough to actually go around confronting people in an attempt to seek her out—he’d let them down.
“She made me brave, makes me feel really wanted and I don't even know who she is. It’s not you, it’s just─”
“I’m not her.” Chrissy finished for him, wiping under one of her eyes. “It’s alright, Eddie. I mean, I’m obviously a little sad, but it’s not your fault or hers. I do hope you find her, though. She’d be lucky to have you.”
She gave Eddie a sad smile, making him feel even guiltier but it’d be pretty shitty of him to try to be with her when he’d be thinking of someone else.
“Thanks, Chrissy.” Eddie stood up and gathered his things. It was clear she was upset and would probably need some time to gather herself, he didn’t want to force her to leave first or linger around and make it awkward.
He left her with a small, parting smile, relieved that he hadn’t charged her. Would have felt like a douchebag to make her pay for weed and turn her down in the span of five minutes when she’d been nothing but pleasant to him.
Eddie shook it off, determination setting in once more. Sure, he was back to the drawing board, but if all else failed, he could corner young Byers again until he finally gave him a name.
He’d come up with a pretty good list of ways he could force Will to give up the name by the time school let out and he got to the Hellfire room.
It wasn’t until he set his little bouquet and the lunchbox down (he didn’t bother with backpacks, just shoved whatever he needed in his pants pockets or the box), walking around the throne in a circle like some fucking animal because he was so restless, that he saw the rose.
The flash of white had caught his eyes and he dove down to grab it, trying to be as careful with pulling the piece of paper away from the stem of the rose, only he realized whoever left it had hole punched the thing together so he ripped the ribbon with his teeth rather than rip the note.
The ribbon was stuffed into his back pocket as he eagerly sat himself down, rose clutched in one hand and the note in his other.
Eddie,
Please excuse my lack of eloquence in this note and also in our real life encounters.
Eddie felt a shiver of excitement wash over his skin, cheeks a bright shade of pink at the confirmation he’d indeed interacted with his secret admirer before. Fuck, she’d talked to him! It made her feel even more real.
She was a real person, someone he could probably hold hands with and kiss. Unless, this was done in a purely platonic way which would be a little fucked up. Red roses to be friends? C’mon. He read on.
I hoped you liked the flowers. I was actually debating on getting you different ones, something a little more personalized to you, but I ended up going with roses because, well, they convey romance better.
Eddie leaned over the arm of the throne, sagging back as he allowed himself to completely collapse with relief. Just for a few seconds, then his eyes were glued to the pink penmanship.
I’m trying really hard not to sound creepy because I’m totally not creepy and I know what you're thinking, ‘that’s what a creep would say’ but I swear I’m not, I just. I admire you. A lot. I have for so, so long. I admire the way you keep going, even when things are absolute shit for you, I like how you watch out for the younger classmen that come in and don’t really have anywhere to go. I like the way you dress, how pretty your hair is (even when it’s frizzy which is so unfair), how passionate you get with your rants (even though sometimes you’re an asshole about it).
And I like your laugh I LOVE your laugh. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had what feels like the worst fucking day of my life and I’m ready to breakdown and cry and scream, but I don’t. Because I can hear you laugh your ass off at something one of your friends said in the cafeteria, by your locker or even when you’re just walking past me. And I wish I was there, laughing alongside you or making you laugh. I don’t know how your laughter makes me feel better, it just does. I get all smiley and I feel warm inside and I want to give you a hug for it, for making me feel better without even trying.
But I can’t. You kind of scare me. Not in the mean, scary way, I’m just not sure you’ll like me. Or that it’ll go anywhere, or even if it should.
You’re so confident, Eddie. And you’re stupid attractive (you are, and I’m sure you’re aware but I’ll go ahead and tell you I’m also physically attracted to you) and it’s so overwhelming that I can’t contain it anymore and I don’t really want to. We only have a couple of months before we’re out of here (I have a feeling this is gonna be your year, you’ll be free of this sentence, too), and I don’t want to have any regrets. The only way I’d ever regret you is by not telling you how I feel.
So, here I am, Eddie Munson. Never thought I’d ever be confessing like this, but for the first time in my life, I feel brave. And it’s all because of you. Thank you, Eddie. I’ll be running around— dodging teachers and detention write ups— like Rocky in his training montages to get these roses to you because you deserve your flowers and I’d be delighted to give them to you today, and every single Valentine’s Day after. Actually, I want to give you even more than that. If you’ll have me.
Love,
What the fuck?
Eddie hastily searched the bottom portion of the back side of the paper, where the note ended for a signature, a name, initials, something but that’s where it ended.
There was no name.
“NO! FUCK! NO! No, no, no, no, NO! I’ll have you, take me, just tell me who you are!” Eddie groaned out, note dropped into his lap so he could clench the roots of his hair with both fists as he doubled over.
This had to be a nightmare. It was the only reasonable explanation for someone to say all those wonderfuckingful things, just for them to disappear.
His heart hurt and he blinked frantically to ward off the onslaught of water and sniffed to deter the tingle in his nose.
The unmistakable sound of his own little rat pack making their way towards the room wasn’t enough to get him to pull himself together.
“Eddie, dude, are you okay?”
Eddie recalled his final option, head shooting to glance around at their faces in search of one in particular.
“Byers. Where’s Byers?”
“His mom picked him up after lunch, wasn’t feeling good,” Mike informed him, completely unaware his grand Valentine’s gesture for Jane had been the cause of his sudden illness.
It was the final straw for Eddie, he snatched the lunchbox and flowers and grumbled out, “Sessions canceled.”
He must have looked pissed as none of them protested, probably having something to do with most of them having dates afterwards.
He almost made it out of the room when Gareth called him back, holding up a purple pen he’d found on the table and figured Eddie was about to forget.
“Is this yours?”
Eddie scoffed and rolled his eyes.
“No.” Then he walked out.
Before promptly storming back in, swiping the pen out of Gareth’s meaty hands. Eddie clicked the pen and scribbled furiously over the side of his fist until the ink finally ran. It wasn’t purple. The ink filler was pink.
His secret admirer’s pen.
“What a cruel parting gift,” he sighed, shoving the pen in his pocket before making his exit. Again.
The really sad thing was Eddie couldn’t even sink into depression in the peace of his room. Emmy Switcher had approached Rick about wanting some herbal refreshments at her party and since he was still under house arrest (how Rick managed to deal and supply in his circumstances baffled him) the job fell upon Eddie. He’d driven to Rick’s restocked, then hit the party.
It was a horn fest, couples everywhere he looked. All heart-eyed and attached at the tongue. It was disgusting.
Eddie was pouting, quietly fuming that it wasn’t him and his secret admirer making out or cuddling or doing something equally romantic but noooooo. Just had to take the ‘secret’ aspect to its extreme.
He banished himself to a dark corner, only interacting with people when approached for drugs or weed. He’d caught sight of Chrissy and it had looked like she wanted to come over but he’d purposely shifted his gaze. Despite the gaping hole left where his heart was, it wasn’t Chrissy or Tina, or the girl in the upstairs restroom, who’d thrown herself at him when he’d been searching for a free bathroom to piss in, that he wanted. Eddie wasn’t in the mood to rebound.
Which was kind of crazy considering he hadn’t even been in a relationship, hadn’t been dumped. He wanted everything in that note, especially the promise of more and only with its author.
Now, Eddie hadn’t been in love before. Some serious lust and want, yeah, however, reading that note made him feel like he was falling a little bit in love and he wanted, very badly, to dive headfirst the rest of the way. Clearly, that wasn’t going to happen.
Once he’d sold out the rest of Rick’s inventory, he stole a beer and headed for the front door.
Once outside, Eddie took a minute to breathe. He hadn’t realized how stuffy it had been in there until he was no longer engulfed by the claustrophobic displays of affection.
He trudged down the pathway and paused when he saw the figure of a girl sitting on the lawn. Her head was directed down towards the ground and she was most definitely not wearing the right clothes for the outside weather.
Eddie cursed under his breath, plans to immediately drive home and get crossed put on hold as he walked over, noting the dew already coating the grass.
“Hey, you okay?”
─
Drinking your sorrows away probably wasn’t the best idea, considering how much of a lightweight you were.
Originally, you’d wanted to lock yourself away in your room for the night—and probably the rest of the weekend as well as maybe the next school week; nothing wrong with playing sick to avoid facing reality and your problems─to cry and pass out. Heather, on the other hand, had plans for you. She’d dolled you up, having to force you to wash your face and re-do your makeup once when you had started crying—put you in a cute outfit and dragged you to Emmy Switcher’s party.
You knew her intentions were pure—as pure as underage drinking could be—but she knew her mistake when the party started to couple up. You’d been approached multiple times and she’d try to encourage you to go for the decent acting ones, you just hadn’t wanted to. When Chrissy Cunningham showed up, you’d gone for shots of the hard liquor (over the sink of course in case you gagged it up, which you did a decent amount of), sure that Eddie would soon follow and you’d be forced to witness their affection.
Obviously, you ended up shitfaced and somehow lost track of Heather. Or maybe she lost track of you. You’d very briefly attempted to find her, accidentally spotted Chrissy, now making eyes at Eddie who’d shown up, and you’d promptly headed outside, eager for some fresh air and an escape from the madhouse. The high alcohol level in your blood kept you from feeling how chilly it really was and you settled into the grass, twirling strands of it around your fingers.
You weren’t sure how long you were out there when someone approached you.
“Hey, you okay?”
You looked up, ready to ask them to just leave you when you locked eyes with Eddie Munson. Most of the liquid courage coursing through your veins evaporated, you couldn’t look at him for long, gaze moving back to the grass. What a way to start sobering up.
“I’m fine.”
“You sure? ‘Cause,” Eddie sat down next to you, one leg crossed and his other, knee up with his arm resting over it. His unopened beer was at his side, “You’re outside, alone, in the cold and you look pretty fucking sad.”
You scoffed, fingers still playing with the strands of grass as you tried to think of something to say that wouldn’t make you seem pathetic. In that time, Eddie took you in.
He knew you, he’d seen you around school and you were nice enough to greet him. Pleasantries in passing. Pretty Hallway Girl, as you’d been dubbed—though never referred to as—until he knew your name. It had been the first one he had jotted down on his list for his secret admirer’s identity, of course he realized with your lack of interactions, it wasn’t likely. He entertained the idea of dating you often, you’d just never shown any real interest in him. Eddie thought about it a lot. Anytime he caught sight of you, really. Your pretty face didn’t make it easy for him to stop. He was a really, really big sucker for your eyes and that smile you’d give him during those brief interactions; like the two of you had some sort of secret between each other. Warmed him up inside.
And here you were, all sad at a party. He didn’t really mind not getting crossed if it meant he got to comfort you, keep you company.
“I’m just drunk,” you finally blurted out, unable to come up with anything else, “And bummed.”
Try devastated.
“You look it,” he joked, nudging his shoulder against yours.
“You don’t look that much better.” You shot back.
“That’s fair,” he sighed, breath visible in the night air as he tilted his head back. “I’m pretty bummed, myself.”
You really didn’t want to ask, figuring he’d already had some sort of lover’s quarrel with Chrissy and you didn’t want to get in the middle of it.
But you were an idiot, so you asked, “Why are you bummed?”
You watched him dig around the pockets of his leather jacket, pulling out a lighter and a pack of cigarettes. He pulled one out of the pack, clenching it in between his teeth as he shoved the pack back into the pocket before he shrugged off the jacket entirely—denim vest included—putting it around your shoulders.
It caught you off guard but you were grateful, your body having decided to become once more susceptible to the chill of the air and dewy grass. Eddie must have been a freaking space heater because the lining inside was blissfully warm.
“Thank you,” you mumbled, shimmying around in it until you could slip your arms into the long sleeves of it, your fingers barely poking past the hem.
“You’re welcome,” he shrugged, flicking the lighter to life as he lit the cigarette. After he’d taken a drag, he answered you.
“Love,” Eddie blew out along with a wispy plume of smoke, “Didn’t expect it to be so complicated.”
You wanted to mime the action of staking yourself in the heart. Of course he was in love with her. She was wonderful! And on top of that, he thought she’d been the one leaving him roses! Had he read the note? Assumed it was her, too? DUH! You were definitely playing sick next week.
“Yeah, well. Join the club,” you grumbled, hugging his jacket around you. It was as close as you were ever gonna get to actually hugging him.
Eddie raised an eyebrow, hoping to school his disappointment. While he wasn’t looking for anyone else tonight, it was still displeasing to hear you were taken but of course you were. He couldn’t imagine you dating sporadically, you seemed much too wonderful for someone to even consider giving you up. No, he was gonna hurt himself with ideas involving you and a high school sweetheart stemming back to your freshman days, probably.
“Ah, I see. Is he here?”
You froze for a moment, “Uhm, yeah. He is.”
“Then why come? Or did it happen in there?” He jabbed a thumb behind him, gesturing to the party inside.
“No, it didn’t happen tonight, it was earlier. In the day. I didn’t really want to come but my best friend dragged me out here. I thought I was doing good, apparently not ‘cause here I am. I’m mostly bummed because of myself, though. I didn’t follow through on something I sort of promised myself and I messed everything up. For me. Not for him. I think he’s pretty happy, so I don’t want to ruin that. He deserves to be happy.”
Eddie could tell you meant it, you were vague as hell but whatever you’d done, however it ended, you genuinely seemed to want your boyfriend (ex-boyfriend?) to be happy. He hoped it wasn’t something you had to cave into for one of those meatheads. You deserved better than those jerks.
“That’s pretty selfless of you if you ask me,” Eddie raised the cigarette to his lips, admiring you.
“Eh, I guess. I fully plan on punishing myself for it, though. Really make sure to rub the salt in there, you know?” You finally turned to grin at him, despite the sinking feeling in your stomach.
Eddie thought about how he couldn’t just stop going to school so he could avoid having to look at all the faces in the crowds and wonder if his admirer is one of them.
“Oh, sweetheart, I’m right there with you.”
Sweetheart. He really was trying to kill you.
“Eddie, get your ass in there and make up with her.” You lightly slapped his arm and jabbed your finger in the direction of the house. You were not about to let your sacrifice be in vain and he’d better stop unknowingly torturing you like this.
“I can’t!” He laughed, amused with your sudden bossy attitude.
“Why not?” You whined, eager to just get him away from you. It wasn’t fair, he wasn’t being fair.
“Because I have no idea who she is.”
Once again you froze, eyes widening. Luckily for you, Eddie didn’t look too much into your reaction. He figured most people would be surprised over him nursing a heartbreak from someone he didn’t quite actually know, or was aware that he knew.
“What?” You asked, trying to seem as uninterested as possible as you played with the ends of his jacket sleeves.
“Fuck it. Someone left me roses all around the school and this really amazing love note.” For a moment, Eddie entertained the idea of trying to convey exactly what it meant to him, then he thought better of it. He’d either seem crazy, desperate or like some pathetic guy in love (which, he kind of was on the cusp of), “Pretty sure it was a girl.”
Not a single dude in the high school was romantic enough to pull it off, maybe leave him an entire bouquet, but not expand upon it like she had.
Eddie licked his lips, raising the cigarette to them once more and ready to admit that he had no fucking clue who she was, but he figured he might as well make one last rally.
“Wouldn’t happen to be you, would it?”
“Not me,” you lied flawlessly, with a gentle shake of your head. “Sorry, Eddie.”
Sorry I’m a big liar because HOLY FUCKING SHIT, wasn’t expecting that.
“I figured. Still had to try, your boyfriend probably would have kicked my ass, though.” Yeah, Eddie hated Valentine’s Day.
He stubbed the cigarette out into the wet grass, and laid the rest of the way down, hands covering his eyes as the back of his head met the ground.
You frowned down at him.
“I don’t have a boyfriend.”
Hello.
Eddie peaked at you through his fingers, “No?”
You shook your head and as Eddie moved to push himself back up, he yelped.
He shifted onto his side, digging around his pocket for whatever it was that stabbed him.
“Ouch,” He hissed, yanking the purple pen out. “Damn, that hurt like a bitch.”
Your eyes squinted at it in suspicion.
“Is that my pen?”
“Huh?”
“My favorite—and pricey—pen. I lost it at school today.” In fact, you were sure you had and you were sure that was your pen. You’d broken off the clip of it by accident and you recognized the large crack in the body of it, having once given into an intrusive thought regarding whether or not you had the strength to break it while you were bored in class. You did have the strength and luckily for you, it still worked.
When Eddie made no move to give your pen back, you figured he didn’t believe you so you added, “The ink is pink, right?”
Eddie continued to stare at you, mouth slightly parted in awe, and you suddenly felt very nervous, glancing behind you to see if there was something that caught his attention but all you could see were the empty lawns.
“What?”
He finally blinked, licking his lips again.
“You’re a really good liar.”
“What?” You repeated, this time your question was laced more so with confusion than panic. He was right, but why was he saying that?
His lips slowly parted up at the corners until he was grinning at you so wide, his dimples were showing and you could feel your heart beating wildly against your rib cage, as if it was trying to break free to fly right over to him.
“This is your pen?”
“Yes!” Is that what his happiness was about? That he was holding your prized pen hostage?
“This is your pen?” You could tell he was having fun at your expense now, getting more giddy by the minute.
“Yes!” You laughed out, his joy contagious even if he was teasing you with your own belongings. “That is my pen. Give me my pen!”
He clicked it closed with his thumb, “I found it where we hold Hellfire sessions, same pen that was used to write my love note.”
And just like that, your heartbeat seemed to stop all together, smile dropping instantly as you wished a giant hole could form in the ground below you and swallow you up.
“That’s not my pen,” you denied, shrugging off his jacket as you quickly rose to your feet. “I gotta go, bye, Eddie.”
When you saw him starting to hastily rise, you bolted, literally running back into the house to try to find Heather and get the hell out of there.
You heard Eddie frantically calling your name but you didn’t stop, forcing your way through the bodies as you desperately searched for your best friend.
Luck was finally on your side because you were soon smashed into her back by a passing group.
“Whoa,” she laughed, turning to steady you, “There you are, I’ve been searching for you everywh—hey, what’s wrong?”
You were sure she must have noticed the panic on your face, eyes shiny with tears you refused to let fall in public.
“I wanna go home, we have to leave.” You grabbed her hand, pulling her into a secluded corner as your head darted in the direction of the front door. You wanted to make a run for it but you feared running into Eddie on the way.
“What happened?” Heather asked, voice initially soft before hardening as her protective nature came out, “Did someone do something?”
You shook your head, chest heaving with your breaths. You were so close to having a panic attack.
“Eddie. He knows. He knows, Heather.” And because she was your best friend, she understood, mouth and eyes going wide.
“Holy crap. Wait—isn’t this what you wanted?”
“No—yes—I don’t know! I can’t face him!” There was a reason you hadn’t written your name down on the note, regardless of how badly you wanted to. You were just scared.
“Why not?” She bent down, leaned in closer to hear you. This girl and her twenty questions.
“It doesn’t matter, he didn’t want it to be me, anyways. He would’ve asked earlier, and he only did it now because of that stupid pen!” You should have kept your mouth shut and just gone to buy another over the weekend, “Can we just please get out of here? We can try the side gate in the backyard.”
“Is Eddie looking for you?”
“Yes, that’s why we have to leave!” Whatever Eddie had to say, you didn’t want to hear it. Yeah, maybe he could want you but if he didn’t, was searching for you to let you down gently you’d be heartbroken.
“He knows and you don’t think he wanted it to be you?”
“Yes!”
“Then why would he be looking for you?”
You refused to answer her, pushing her towards the back door instead. She went willingly for a few steps, then Heather stopped and you bumped into her back again as she craned her neck to look over her shoulder.
“I think it's too late for that.” She pointed at something behind you and you followed her finger.
Eddie was standing on top of the kitchen table a bunch of guys had carried into the living room to play beer pong on, eyes searching the room with his lips set in a frown.
He was attracting attention, a multitude of heads turning to peer up at him in curiosity.
Oh, god. He was looking for you, you were probably going to get rejected at a fucking Valentine’s Day party in some stranger’s living room.
Eddie must have caught the attention of someone near the sound system because the volume of the music was lowered and you could hear everyone muttering amongst themselves, asking what had happened to the music before they noticed Eddie.
He glanced around, not even a little nervous at the amount of people staring at him. He hadn’t planned on making a huge show of it, figured they were all too drunk to pay him any attention, luckily he was used to being a spectacle.
Eddie used it to his advantage, calling out your full name.
The crowd muttered, everyone looking at each other in confusion or maybe trying to catch sight of you.
It wasn’t long before someone recognized you, head turning in your direction, followed by many more—a domino effect—until just about everyone was staring at you, including Eddie.
He hopped off the table and made his way towards you, crowd parting to allow him. Heather slipped her hand into yours at your side, giving you a reassuring squeeze before she too stepped away, leaving you to finally face Eddie.
Eddie didn’t look at anyone else, gaze trained solely on you.
“Hi, again.”
You blinked, unable to keep yourself from glancing at the crowd around you, curious—nosey—to see what would happen next.
Guess you were going to have to finally face reality, no more running. You didn’t think you could break through the crowd, anyways.
“Hi,” you whispered but you knew Eddie had heard you, his lips pursed into a smile, eyes lighting up when you didn’t shut down.
“You ran away before I could tell you how I feel.” Eddie took another step, pretty much invading your personal space but he was desperate to be close to you and maybe body block you in case you tried to flee. He didn’t want you to run away again, to disappear like he feared you had when you hadn’t left your name on the note.
“It’s only fair right? Since I know?”
You nodded again, the drum of your heartbeat loud in your ears. You were surprised you could hear Eddie over it.
Eddie stared down at you, lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn’t look upset or frustrated. It looked like he was thinking about something.
Little did you know he was reciting the note in his head to give him some courage, he’d memorized it.
He didn’t leave you waiting for long.
“I admire you. A lot.” Your breath hitched as the words you’d jotted down were repeated to you, “So much that I want to stand on expensive looking, antique tables and crash parties for you. I like the way you get animated when you talk, the way you give into your intrusive thoughts at the most random of times—yeah, I saw you trying to see if your finger fit in the pencil sharpener in the library once—I like how kind you are, even when people don’t deserve it.
“I like how you’ve never made me feel ostracized, never made anybody feel like that and I like how dramatic you are—storming off, making an exit, falling flat on your face in hallways then staying there like a dead body before you decide to reanimate again once you’re done being embarrassed. I like how you beat up your locker when it won’t open and then you give it a couple of pats to apologize once it finally does.”
Eddie chuckled at those particular memories, having been thoroughly amused when watching you and you feel your face get hot at being the cause of his cute laugh.
“And I really like your face, your pretty eyes, all of this,” Eddie gestured to you, to all of you from head to toe, “… you’re beautiful. Although, I gotta say, you drove me really fucking crazy today. Made me feel emotions I didn’t know I was capable of feeling and you scared the shit out of me when I thought I’d never get to know who the person I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with is.”
Okay, maybe you didn’t want the ground to swallow you whole.
“I know we only have a couple of months left of school and you’re probably going off to continue being amazing at some college in some big city a million miles away—‘cause that’s my luck—but I’m willing to work with that. I want to drive those million miles to give you flowers and hold your hand, kiss you, listen to you complain about your bad days, hear you brag about your good ones, kill all the bugs you’re afraid of—even though some of them freak me out, you make me feel brave, too—and just be all around disgustingly domestic with you.
“And yes, that includes all the not so fun domestic stuff like fights—which we’ll get over, I’ll do just about anything, even cave first, if you give me those big, coy eyes of yours—and taxes. I want to do it all with you. If you’ll have me.” Eddie ended, eyes wide and just a little out of breath.
There it was. He’d thrown it all out there, everything he wanted to offer (because he wanted to give you everything, even though it kind of terrified him).
And you—you were just staring at him, left to gape at him since you’d expected… well, you hadn’t really known what to expect since you usually ran from the consequences—be they good or bad—of your actions.
He wanted to be with you. Holy crap, Eddie Munson wanted to be your boyfriend. Wanted to do boyfriend things like visit you at college and hold your hand. You’d thought, the whole time, it had just been you observing him. You never thought he’d be observing you, too. It all sounded too good to be true, you couldn’t really think, couldn’t really form words.
You didn’t have to, Eddie grew anxious, maybe even a little impatient despite having decided the moment you’d run away from him in the front yard that he’d chase after you for as long as it took him to get you to give him a chance.
He found himself blurting out his strongest desire, “Can I kiss you?”
This was it, you were faced with another opportunity, and this one was the actual last opportunity you had to tell him how you feel, without any anonymity. No more hiding, no more running.
“Yeah,” you breathed out and he was on you before you’d even finished saying that singular word, his surprisingly soft lips pressing desperately against yours as his hands moved to frame your face, one of his thumbs stroking along your cheek.
Your eyelids fluttered shut as you returned the kiss and just like that, what he intended to be a simple but firm kiss, turned into your lips moving against each other, a little wet and enough to have Eddie want to pop his leg up like in the fucking movies.
The only reason he kept himself from introducing his tongue to yours like he so badly wanted to was the sounds of encouragement around him; cheering and hollering. You broke away, having also heard your peers whooping and wolf whistling, to hide your face in his chest, bashfulness returning full force.
Eddie laughed and kissed the top of your head, unable to contain his grin and joy. He definitely wasn’t used to this, more accustomed to jeering, not cheering. A couple of people even clapped him on the shoulder.
“You know what, I think they’re rooting for us, sweetheart.”
You pulled away just enough to look up at him, offering a small, pleased smile of your own.
“They’re not the only ones.”
Well, he had to give you some tongue for that one. The cheering and sounds of excitement got louder as he did.
—
You hadn’t walked into school hand in hand with Eddie when Monday came around—though you’d spent pretty much the entire weekend with him, driving around town, lounging around your room (he’d come in through your window) and making out—he hadn’t mentioned anything about meeting up in the parking lot and you weren’t offended in the slightest. While you wanted to see him, you appreciated the extra time to calm your excited nerves before you did.
Heather ran up to you the second you made it to your locker, grin stretching from ear to ear.
“I still can’t believe it. It didn’t even happen to me and I’m pinching myself because of how romantic it was!”
“Imagine how I feel,” You were all smiles as you turned the combination for your locker. But of course, since it was openly known as one of, if not, the shittiest of lockers in the school—having belonged to several wrestlers and football players before you, who’d evidently cared for it on the rough side—it didn't budge when you tugged at it.
You wouldn’t miss it when you graduated.
With a sigh, you pulled the straps of your backpack off of your shoulders and handed it to Heather. Then, you yanked aggressively at the small locker handle. It was your routine though, so you knew it wouldn’t open then, either. It was only when you slammed your fist against it, after all the yanking, that it opened.
Roses immediately flooded out of it, piling onto the ground at your feet. You and Heather watched with open mouths, glancing at passersby, who also looked on in surprise, until your stuffed locker finally finished its floral avalanche.
“Like ‘em?”
You jumped up, and then internally scolded yourself for almost trampling a couple of your flowers. You carefully twisted around to face Eddie, who was leaning back against the row of lockers behind you, smug smirk on his handsome face.
“Yeah, what are all of these for?” You asked, still marveling at them as he pushed himself off the lockers to wrap his arms around your middle and press a kiss to the side of your head.
“I realized I never got to ask you to be my Valentine or give you flowers. So, I bought some Saturday morning,” They were on sale so he’d gone purposely overboard, “used my uncle’s collection of mugs as vases to keep them alive, then woke up at the asscrack of dawn this morning to get here before you did. I probably broke your locker even more, by the way. So, be my Valentine?”
“I’m pretty sure it was part of the terms and agreements of our relationship, but yes. I’ll be your Valentine.”
Eddie closed your locker for you, pressing his weight against it to make sure it was secure and no more roses would escape before he scooped up the ones that had fallen out, arranging them into a large bouquet which he handed to you, leaning in to give you a kiss.
You hummed happily against his lips, nose wrinkling in glee when you felt him smile.
Eddie let out a content sigh when you parted before glancing to his side at your gawking best friend.
“Hey, Heather.” Eddie wasn’t at all bothered by the audience. “Nice shoes.”
“Thanks! They’re new. You done sucking face?”
“For now,” he promised, then turned his attention back to you. “I’ll see you later, beautiful. I’ve got a test to barely pass. Gotta make sure I walk that stage with you.”
Eddie pinched your cheek, pressed another kiss to your forehead and rushed off down the hall. You’d barely locked eyes with Heather when Eddie came running back, taking your face in his hands as he muttered something about one more and gave you a kiss that had you a little shaky on your feet.
‘One more’ actually turned out to mean a couple more pecks before he really forced himself away, blowing you a kiss just as he disappeared around the corner.
“He’s whipped,” Heather stated.
“Pretty sure I’m falling in love with him.”
“That’s appropriate.” You both nodded before you turned to face your closed locker, arms full of sweet smelling roses.
“. . . You still need to get your books, don’t you?”
“Yeah.”
Heather slid her arms through the straps of your backpack, over her front, so she could hold your flowers for you as you prepared to battle your locker again. It was totally worth it.
—
Eddie never ended up giving you your pen back, it’s the one he used to write love letters to you while you were away at college.
summary: Some messages aren’t spoken, they’re broadcast. After a string of awkward encounters leaves one boy hopelessly smitten and one girl hopelessly overwhelmed, an unexpected plan sparks to life at Hawkins’ small-town radio station.
characters: steve harrington x shy! reader (robin mentioned)
warnings: PINING YEARNING!!
word count: 4.0k
authors note: i was orginally going to make a series but then i realized i couldn't wait that long lol
Steve Harrington swears he’s not stalking you.
He tells Robin this every time she catches him staring off into the distance like he’s trying to telepathically summon you back into the building-but, okay, maybe your timing has become suspiciously perfect. Every time you show up, he tries to be cool, tries to be smooth, tries to be… well, Steve. And every time, you run like someone lit a match under your shoes.
He didn’t understand it at first.
He thought maybe he said the wrong thing, or maybe he had something in his teeth, or maybe you just hated him-which, honestly, would be devastating because you have the kind of smile that lives in his head for days.
But today was the breaking point.
Attempt #1 - Family Video
You stepped up to the counter holding Back to the Future with both hands like it was something fragile. You whispered hi, looking everywhere but his eyes. Steve’s heart did this stupid gymnastic flip.
“Hey, uh-so I was wondering if maybe-”
He never finished because you blurted, “I left my oven on!”
Then you bolted.
Attempt #2 - Starcourt Mall
He saw you outside Sam Goody a week later and lit up like a Christmas tree. You froze like a startled deer. He took two steps toward you-two!-and you spun so fast he swore he saw cartoon dust clouds behind you.
“I think she blacked out,” he told Robin that night.
Attempt #3 - The Arcade
This one actually hurt a little.
You turned around, saw him, whispered “I forgot something,” then walked out so quickly you left your coat hanging on a Dig Dug cabinet.
He stood there holding it, wondering if he really was that intimidating.
He wasn’t.
Everyone knew Steve Harrington couldn’t intimidate a goldfish.
By the time he got back to Family Video, coat still in hand, he collapsed in the break room chair and stared up at the ceiling.
“Okay,” he groaned. “That’s it. I’m done. She hates me.”
Robin didn’t even look up from her magazine.
“She doesn’t hate you. You just… you know… terrify her.”
Steve threw his hands up.
“How? How am I terrifying?!”
Robin shrugged.
“You’re tall. Pretty. Loud. It’s a dangerous combination.”
He glared.
She wasn’t wrong.
Robin finally set the magazine aside and narrowed her eyes at him like she was solving a math equation.
“You want her to go out with you, right?”
Steve nodded miserably.
“Then stop trying to talk to her in person,” she said, leaning back in her chair. “Try something she can’t run away from.”
He blinked. “Like what?”
Robin grinned.
And that should’ve been his first warning.
“Like the radio.”
Steve blinked again.
“The-what?”
Robin slapped the break room table excitedly.
“The Squawk, dingus. WSQK. It’s time to broadcast your heart.”
Steve stared.
His fate was sealed.
-
The WSQK station sits on the edge of Hawkins like an abandoned birdhouse-sun-bleached siding, a cracked “ON AIR” sign hanging crooked in the window, and a radio tower that looks like it survived ten different lightning strikes. The parking lot is mostly weeds and gravel, the kind of place no one pays attention to.
But today… Steve Harrington storms through its front door like a man on a mission.
The inside smells like dust, leftover pizza, and those weird foam covers on microphones. Posters of old concerts peel on the walls, and everything hums faintly-machines warming, waiting, whispering.
Robin swivels in her chair, lazily rolling toward him on her wheeled stool with a half-eaten granola bar in hand.
She takes one look at him-hair mussed, eyes wild, frustration radiating off him like static-and sighs.
“Oh boy,” she says. “Which failed attempt are we on now? Seven? Eight? Did you accidentally call her the wrong name? Spill something on her? Blink too hard?”
Steve groans dramatically, dropping onto the opposite chair and dragging both hands through his hair.
“I can’t do it, Rob. I seriously can’t do it.”
His voice cracks a little, and it kills her.
“What happened this time?” she asks, tossing the granola wrapper at the trash and missing so badly it lands in the hallway.
He leans back, staring at the stained ceiling tiles like they personally offended him.
“She ran,” he mutters. “Again. Like full-on sprint. I wasn’t even close enough to scare her. I didn’t shout. Or-like-wave my arms. I barely breathed.”
He sits up suddenly.
“Do I look scary when I breathe?”
Robin pats his shoulder with faux sympathy.
“You look scary all the time, dingus.”
He drops his forehead onto the soundboard.
The buttons light up beneath his skin like a sad, defeated Christmas tree.
“I like her,” he says quietly, voice muffled against the equipment.
“I really like her. More than I’ve liked anyone in a long time. And she keeps running away from me like I’m the goddamn boogeyman.”
Robin kicks herself back over, stool squeaking against the tile.
“Maybe she’s shy.”
“I know she’s shy!” he snaps, lifting his head. “I don’t want to make her uncomfortable. I don’t want to freak her out. And every time I go to tell her how I feel-every time I even think about asking her out-she’s gone before I can finish a single syllable.”
A long pause.
The hum of the station seems louder.
A soft song plays faintly from the monitor, tinny but warm.
Then Robin’s eyes light up. Dangerous. Brilliant.
“You wanna talk to her?”
Steve looks exhausted.
“Uh, yeah, Robin, that’s kind of the issue here.”
“Then don’t talk to her,” she says casually, swiveling once.
“Talk to everyone. Through the airwaves.”
He stares at her.
She stares back.
He blinks.
She grins, shark-like.
“You’re on a radio show,” she says. “Literally surrounded by microphones. She listens to The Squawk-you said so yourself. So… don’t ask her out in person.”
The realization hits him like a dropped amplifier.
“Oh my god,” he whispers. “You want me to confess to her… over the radio?”
“Not confess.” Robin wiggles her brows.
“Send her a message.”
He leans in automatically, curiosity sparking through the frustration.
“What kind of message?”
“A subtle one,” she says. “A sequence of songs. Each song starting with a letter. And together, they’ll spell something out.”
Steve sits back, wiping a hand across his mouth as a smile threatens.
“A message… through music.”
“Bingo.”
She points at the record shelves along the wall-thousands of discs, all humming with possibility.
“Because if she keeps running away from you… maybe she’ll listen to you instead.”
A slow grin spreads across his face, bright and boyish and hopeful.
“You know,” he says softly, “that might actually work.”
Robin kicks off the desk, spinning away dramatically.
“Oh, it’s definitely gonna work.”
She pauses mid-spin, pointing at him again.
“Question is… what do you want it to spell?”
Steve doesn’t even have to think.
He breathes out the words like he’s been holding them in too long.
“Go out with me.”
The fluorescent lights flicker above them.
Outside, the radio tower crackles in the wind.
And inside the tiny station, surrounded by static and vinyl and hope-
a plan begins to hum to life.
-
WSQK The Squawk crackles through your bedroom speakers the way it always does-like someone fed electricity through a bird’s nest. The station hums faintly against your windowpane, rainclouds settling low over Hawkins in a thick gray blanket that makes the whole world feel softer, quieter, a little more secret.
Your room is your refuge.
Warm lamplight pools across your quilt, posters of movie soundtracks and mixtape covers lining the walls. Your books are stacked in uneven towers, your Walkman sits on your desk, and the radio-your old, slightly battered one with the dented antenna-fills every inch of the space with familiar static.
You always listen at this hour.
You always have.
The Squawk is comforting in a way most things aren’t.
You settle cross-legged on your bed, notebook open but ignored, pen tapping lightly against your knee as a DJ segment ends with Robin’s unmistakably chaotic laugh drifting through the speakers. Then the switch clicks-
a beat of silence-
and a new song begins.
A song you never hear on this station.
“Girls Just Want to Have Fun.”
Cyndi Lauper’s bright, glittering voice bursts into the room like the sun kicking clouds aside.
You blink.
Okay… interesting choice.
The Squawk usually sticks to classic rock and mellow hits, not vibrant pop you dance to with your hairbrush as a microphone.
Still-it gets you smiling.
The kind of smile you try to hide behind your hand, even though no one’s watching.
You start to sway a little.
Tap your pen to the beat.
Hum along softly.
But halfway through, a strange feeling creeps in-something warm and fluttery settling in your chest, something that makes your pulse pick up.
Because… this song reminds you of something.
Someone.
Dark hair.
Soft brown eyes.
A voice that cracks when he gets nervous around you.
A boy who keeps smiling at you even when you panic and run the other way.
Steve Harrington.
Your face heats instantly.
Ridiculous.
Absolutely ridiculous.
You draw a tiny circle on your notebook. Then another.
Then you write the letter:
G
You don’t know why you write it, but you do.
Something about it feels right.
Like the song is trying to tap your shoulder.
The track fades out, replaced by Robin’s voice-brighter than usual.
“And that was our surprise pick of the day! Keep listening, Hawkins. We’ve got something… fun planned this week.”
You don’t think she’s talking to you.
Not really.
But your heart does a strange little skip anyway.
The next song comes on-something totally normal.
But your thoughts never settle.
Because for the first time, you wonder…
What if someone is trying to tell you something?
And what if you’ve been too shy, too scared, too busy running-to hear them?
You close your notebook, slide it under your pillow, and curl up beneath your blanket-feeling like the air itself is humming with possibility.
One letter down.
And the music has only just begun.
-
The next afternoon drapes itself over Hawkins like a sleepy blanket. The sky hangs low and silver, not quite raining but definitely thinking about it. The kind of weather that makes everything feel slowed down, softened at the edges, almost like the world is waiting for something.
You kick off your shoes by your bedroom door, shrug out of your jacket, and toss your bag onto the chair beside your desk. The moment you press the power button on your radio, the room fills with a familiar ripple of static-like warm air greeting you, like the start of your favorite ritual.
You settle onto your bed again, tugging your blanket over your legs as you flip absentmindedly through one of your paperbacks. You’re reading the same paragraph over and over without absorbing any of it. Because you’re waiting.
You tell yourself you aren’t.
But you’re waiting.
Robin’s voice filters through the speakers, sharp and lively as always:
“Alright Hawkins, we’re rolling into our afternoon set. Don’t go anywhere-we’ve got more surprises up our sleeves.”
Surprises.
Your stomach knots with that word.
Then the first notes of the next song slide into the room-smooth, bright, and immediately recognizable.
“Our Lips Are Sealed.”
The Go-Go’s.
You sit up straighter, heart thumping a little harder.
Another pop song.
Another upbeat, out-of-character choice for The Squawk.
Another title starting with-
Your mind connects it before your hands do.
O.
Slowly, with a kind of quiet reverence, you reach for your notebook under the pillow.
Open to yesterday’s page.
The lonely, penciled G in the corner.
You draw a second letter beside it:
O
Your chest warms-an ache, a flutter, something delicate and bewildering.
Two letters.
A pattern.
A message?
Your book slips from your lap as you lean forward, elbows on your knees, letting the song wash over you. The Go-Go’s harmonize through the static, their voices buoyant, secretive, like they’re whispering directly into your ear.
Your lips part on a small, shaky breath.
Because the truth is:
You’ve been holding your own secret too.
You like Steve Harrington.
You like him so much you freeze.
So much you run.
So much your heart gets tangled in your ribs when he walks into a room.
And suddenly… suddenly it feels like maybe-just maybe-you aren’t the only one tangled.
The song fades, the last synth note trailing like a ribbon through the speakers.
Robin and another voice-Steve’s voice-come through faintly, adjusting knobs in the studio. You can’t make out their words, but you hear laughter. A soft thud. A sarcastic mutter that sounds undeniably like him.
You swallow hard.
Is this for you?
It can’t be.
There’s no way.
But when you lie back on your pillow, notebook still open on your stomach, the letters G and O stare up at you like the beginning of a sentence waiting to be read.
And you feel it-
in your fingertips,
in your breath,
in the marrow of your bones:
Something is happening.
Something meant for you.
The radio hums on, switching to another normal song.
But your mind is still stuck on the message beginning to take shape.
GO…
You bite your lip, cheeks warming, heart fluttering wildly like a trapped bird.
And for once-
you don’t feel like running.
-
Time doesn’t move normally after that.
It doesn’t pass in hours or classes or the scrape of your locker door.
It moves in songs.
Every afternoon, WSQK flickers to life in your room, in your car, through the little radio hanging from your shower caddy. The Squawk becomes the pulse of your days, beating steady and sure, tugging you forward like a thread around your ribs.
And each day brings a new letter.
MONDAY - “OUT OF TOUCH - Daryl Hall & John Oates” (O)
You’re brushing your hair in the bathroom when the opening synth riff hits the tile like a heartbeat.
“What are you doing to me?” you whisper, gripping the counter as you scribble another O in your notebook.
The word grows:
G O O
The mirror fogs from your breath.
TUESDAY - “UP WHERE WE BELONG - Joe Cocker & Jennifer Warnes” (U)
You’re lying on your stomach, chin in your hands, when the song floats from your radio-warm, slow, impossibly romantic.
Your pen shakes.
You add U.
G O O U
The message is starting to peek through the fog.
Something in your chest begins to unfold, petal by petal.
WEDNESDAY - “TAKE ON ME - a-ha” (T)
The school day is a blur, but the second you get home, you’re curled near the radio like a moth to a flame.
When the familiar, spiraling synth kicks in, your breath catches.
You write T with a trembling hand.
G O O U T
Your heart thuds so hard it feels like it might break the skin.
THURSDAY - “WITH OR WITHOUT YOU - U2” (W)
The U2 ballad pours through your speakers like spilled honey-slow, aching, full of longing that sinks straight into your bones.
You don’t write it right away.
You sit in silence, gripping your notebook, tears pricking unexpectedly at the corners of your eyes because-
If this means what you think it means…
No one’s ever wanted you like this before.
You’re halfway through doing homework when the song blasts so loudly you almost fall off your bed.
You laugh-bright, surprised, breathless.
You write I and underline it twice.
G O O U T W I
You press the heel of your hand to your smile, trying to smother the butterflies taking flight in your stomach.
SATURDAY - “TIME AFTER TIME - Cyndi Lauper” (T)
You’re helping your mom fold laundry when you hear the first slow, familiar notes.
Your hands freeze mid-towel fold.
The world blurs.
You whisper the letter before your hand even finds your notebook:
“T…”
G O O U T W I T
A shiver crawls down your spine.
SUNDAY - “HEAVEN IS A PLACE ON EARTH - Belinda Carlisle” (H)
You almost drop your cereal bowl when the song pours from the radio in a bright ribbon of sunlight and 80s glitter.
The letter hits you like a jolt:
H
G O O U T W I T H
Your breath stumbles.
Your fingers tremble.
Everything inside you blooms into something enormous and terrifying and beautiful.
You’re lying on your bed now, the sun setting in amber streaks across your wall, notebook resting open on your chest. The letters stare up at you, undeniable.
GO OUT WITH
With…
Who?
You know the answer.
You’ve known since Monday.
Maybe longer.
Steve Harrington’s smile sits behind your eyelids like an afterimage=-warm, boyish, hopeful.
Your heart thumps.
The message is almost complete.
One letter left.
One final song.
You swallow hard, hugging your pillow to your chest as the room grows darker.
Whatever comes next…
you’re ready to hear it.
-
The radio crackles to life in your room like it’s alive, the hum of WSQK filling the air with warmth and tension. Outside, rain taps the windowpane in soft, steady fingers, painting the world gray and shimmering. You curl beneath your blanket, notebook in your lap, heart already thudding with anticipation.
Earlier songs had built the message carefully:
G O O U T W I T H
And now… the final letters remained.
Then the familiar, slightly raspy, totally unmistakable voice of Steve Harrington comes through the speakers.
“Hey… uh, Hawkins,” he says, voice hesitant, a little nervous, but brimming with that dumb charm you can’t help but love.
“Okay, so… I’ve been trying to get someone’s attention for… a while now. And, uh… maybe this is the weirdest way to do it, but… sometimes the best things are worth being a little ridiculous.”
You freeze.
It’s him.
It has to be him.
Steve clears his throat.
“So, if you’ve been following along with the songs this week, you already know the letters so far. And… well. I guess it’s time to finish it.”
The first notes of a song drift through the speakers-soft, melodic, and familiar:
“Man in the Mirror” - Michael Jackson.
You bite your lip, heart skipping.
The first of the final letters.
He continues, voice almost whispering, but full of determination:
“M. That’s for you. And… the very last letter…”
Another song begins immediately after-brighter, slightly playful, almost like it’s teasing you:
“Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic” - The Police.
“E,” Steve says, clearly speaking it just for you, even though the radio waves carry it to all of Hawkins.
“And… well… the message should be clear now. If you’ve been paying attention…”
He pauses. You can hear the nerves in his voice, that familiar hesitancy that melts your heart.
“G O O U T W I T H M E,” he says slowly, letting the words hang in the air, letting them sink in.
“That’s me asking… you. Out. And, uh…” His voice softens, warming. “If you want to… meet me… I’ll be at the place where we first met. You know… the parking lot at Hawkins High.”
Your breath catches.
Rain streaks down the window, blurring the world outside into silver streaks, but your heart is on fire.
The words echo in your head: the place where we first met.
Steve’s voice comes again, quieter, almost shy:
“I’ll… I’ll be waiting. Rain, shine, whatever… I’ll be there. Please-just… come.”
The song swells again behind his voice, the chorus spilling over you like sunlight through clouds, and your hands shake around the notebook in your lap.
The letters stare back at you.
G O O U T W I T H M E
Your heart pounds, chest tight, cheeks warm.
All your fear, all your hesitation, all those times you ran-they’re gone.
Because it’s him.
Steve Harrington.
As ridiculous and nervous and perfect as ever.
And he’s waiting for you.
You grab your jacket.
Notebook tucked under your arm.
And you step into the rain.
This time, you’re not running away.
You’re running toward him.
-
The rain falls in steady sheets over the Hawkins High parking lot, the streetlights casting halos in the mist. Puddles ripple underfoot as your sneakers splash through them, water soaking your jeans, your hair plastered to your forehead. The air smells like wet asphalt and pine and something impossibly like hope.
You round the corner near the old bleachers, heart hammering in your chest like it wants to break free. Each step closer makes your stomach twist tighter with anticipation, excitement, and just a hint of fear.
And then you see him.
Steve stands near the edge of the lot, hood down, rain dripping off his hair, eyelashes heavy with droplets. His jacket clings to him, soaked through, but he doesn’t seem to care. He’s staring at the entrance, posture tense, shoulders slightly hunched, fingers fiddling with the hem of his shirt.
When he sees you-really sees you-his entire body seems to shift. His lips curve into a grin that’s equal parts relief and disbelief. His eyes, wide and warm, track you like he’s been holding his breath for this moment for weeks.
“You came,” he says, voice rough with wetness and emotion, almost drowned out by the rain around you.
You can’t speak. Your throat is tight, lumped with every word you wanted to say, every time you ran, every glance you stole when you thought he wasn’t looking.
Steve takes a tentative step forward.
“You… you really did come. I thought… I thought maybe you’d… run again.”
You shake your head, droplets scattering from your hair like tiny fireworks.
“No,” you whisper.
“I… I wanted to see you.”
He swallows, takes another step, and then suddenly the rain feels warmer, somehow softer, as if the clouds themselves are giving you permission. He closes the distance between you in two long strides, and then-he’s close enough that you can see every freckle, every drop of water on his eyelashes, every beat of his nervous smile.
Without thinking, you both lean forward at the same time. The rain pelts around you, drowning out everything else: the empty parking lot, the wet asphalt, the sound of the world. There’s only him. Only you. Only the heartbeat in your chest syncing with his.
And then, finally… your lips meet.
Soft, hesitant at first, tasting faintly of rain and peppermint gum. The world collapses around you. The rain soaks you to the bone, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing else matters except this: the boy who chased you through Family Video, the mall, the arcade-Steve Harrington-is here, and you’re here, and somehow, finally, you’re together.
He pulls back just slightly, forehead resting against yours, breath ragged and warm against your skin.
“I’ve been trying to tell you… for weeks,” he murmurs, voice low and sincere.
“Every time I saw you, I just… I didn’t know how. But now? Now I know. I want… I want to take you out. Please. Don’t run this time.”
You laugh softly, water dripping from your hair onto the puddled ground.
“I won’t,” you whisper.
The rain falls heavier, soaking both of you completely, but it feels like sunlight on your skin. You reach for his hand, fingers intertwining, and the tension that’s built up over days, over weeks, over unspoken words-finally melts away.
Steve grins, shakes his head, wet hair plastered to his forehead.
“You’re amazing, you know that?” he says.
“You’re… ridiculous, beautiful, perfect… and somehow, you stayed.”
You smile, leaning into him, your nose brushing his cheek.
“And you’re Steve Harrington. And somehow… I’m crazy about you.”
He laughs, breathy and triumphant, and presses one last kiss to your temple before taking your hand firmly in his.
“Then it’s official,” he says, voice carrying over the rain-soaked lot.
“Date number one… starts now.”
The rain continues to fall, sheets of silver washing over the empty parking lot. Steam rises from puddles. Lights shimmer in the wet asphalt. And there, standing together, soaked to the bone but unshakably connected, the two of you step forward into something new. Behind you, faintly, the hum of WSQK drifts through the night air, a soft melody threading through the patter of raindrops. The songs, the static, the shared signals-all of it becomes part of this moment, like the soundtrack of your hearts finally syncing. And as Steve squeezes your hand, you realize: some messages were meant to be heard, some songs meant to be lived, and somehow, every note led you here.
Hii!! I love your Vampire!Steve Harrington series! I was wondering if you could write one continuing that he takes too much but after that he refuses to feed from reader, until he finally collapsed from hunger and they finally set everything straight and he starts feeding from her again? I literally get so much joy from all of your steve harrington stories, they're all so cute!💜💜 thanks, love
hawkins after dark au, vampire!steve, 1k words
previous part
Ever since that night on the living room floor, Steve has built a wall of distance between you and him.
That's not to say he's not talking to you. No, he is endlessly affectionate. More than he ever has been. He holds you constantly. His arms are a permanent fixture around your waist, his face buried in your hair as if he can't bear to let go. He dotes on you with a soft intensity, adoration evident in every step, in every endearment, in every look.
But he won't feed.
At first, he makes excuses. Haphazard ones, ones you can see through immediately, because you know him. You know the face he makes when he lies to you. He doesn't do it often, but now it's become second nature.
“Not tonight, sweetheart, I’m okay,” Steve murmurs, kissing your temple. “You need your strength.” He stocks the fridge with more iron-rich juices and food than you can ever eat, just in case.
The excuses run out eventually, and they turn into quiet refusals. A gentle but firm turning of his head when you tilt your neck in invitation. A pained, “Please, don’t,” whispered into your skin when you guide his hand to the button of your shirt.
You notice the change.
He moves slower. He looks thinner, more tired. His face grows paler, absent of any flush.
He is fading, and you cannot stand it.
“Steve, please,” you beg one evening, holding his cool, listless hands in yours. “Look at you. You’re starving.”
“I’m fine,” he insists, his voice a hollow echo. He tries for a smile. It is a ghost of his usual grin, and it falls flat, because, again, you know him. “Just tired, sweetheart.”
Something in you snaps.
It isn't fear, not anymore. It’s frustration, hot and sharp, born from weeks of watching him dim. “Stop it,” you say, your voice low and trembling. “Stop lying to me. I'm looking at you, Steve. You are not fine.”
He blinks, surprised by the edge in your tone. “Angel—”
“No.” You pull your hands back, standing up. The distance feels terrible, but you need him to see. “You are starving yourself. You are wasting away right in front of me, and for what? To punish yourself? To protect me from some… some phantom danger you’ve built up in your head?”
He looks down at his lap, his jaw tight. “It wasn’t a phantom. You fainted. You were limp in my arms. Your heartbeat was… it was barely there. You almost died, sweetheart, and I can't—”
“And whose fault was that?” you fire back. “Mine. I didn’t say the word. I got lost in it, too. Stop blaming yourself, Steve, please, I can't stand it! You are... it was never on you. And now you won't even let me touch you!”
The second the words leave your mouth, a choked sob escapes you. You wrap your arms around yourself, as if you can hold the pieces together. “I can’t do it,” you whisper, the fight draining out of you, as tears spill over, hot and fast, onto your cheeks. “I can’t stand here and watch the love of my life fade into dust because he’s too scared to live. I can’t. It’s killing me, too.”
The sight of your tears, hearing the devastation in your voice—it does what your anger could not. “Oh, baby, no,” he breathes, surging to his feet. He sways, weak from hunger, but he reaches for you. “Don’t cry, please. God, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
He pulls you into his arms, and you collapse against him, crying into his shirt. He holds you up, his own body trembling.
“You’re right,” he murmurs into your hair, his voice thick with his own unshed tears. “I... I've been so stupid. I thought I was being strong. I thought I was keeping you safe.”
“You’re keeping yourself in a cage,” you sob against his chest. “And you’re locking me out. I want in, Steve, I want all of you. Please, just let me in.”
He lets out a sad, wounded noise from the back of his throat, and crushes you to his chest. “Oh, my sweet girl,” he whispers. He presses a desperate kiss to your hair, your temple, anywhere he can reach. “Look what I’ve done. God, this… this is hurting you worse, isn’t it?”
You nod against him, still hiccuping, breaths uneven and shaking, fingers clinging to the fabric of his shirt like he is the air you breathe.
“Please don’t do this,” you plead, your voice muffled and broken against the soft cotton of his shirt. “Please, Steve. I can’t… I can’t just stand by and watch you fade away. I can’t lose you to this. Not like this.”
Steve lets out a shaky breath, a sound full of surrender and sorrow. Gently, he eases you back just enough to see your face. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers again, his thumb stroking your damp cheek.
He leans in, pressing his forehead to yours, closing his eyes. “You’re my heart,” he murmurs. “And I’ve been starving my own heart. How stupid can I be?”
A wet, half-laugh escapes you, mingling with a sob. “Pretty stupid, apparently.”
He huffs a soft, broken laugh in return, the sound so familiar and dear it makes fresh tears well in your eyes. “Okay,” he says. “No more. I’m done hiding from you.” He takes your hand and brings it to his lips, kissing your knuckles, eyes fixed on yours. “You want all of me?”
You nod, unable to speak past the emotion welling up in your throat.
“Then you’ve got me," Steve promises softly. His eyes drift to the side of your neck. The hunger is there, yes, but its mixed with a tender soft of affection that you'll never get tired of seeing on his features. “May I?” he asks, his voice a soft rumble.
“Yes,” you breathe, tilting your head. “Always yes.”
He moves slow, giving you a chance to back out. When you don't, he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, his nose brushing your skin, inhaling deeply. “Thank you. For never giving up on me.”
Summary: You’re convinced Steve has a thing for Robin, but he really just has a thing for you. 5.6k wc
Warnings & What to Expect: Slight angst, a dash of hurt/comfort, set in season 4, Max is kind of a jerk (I mean she’s going through a lot ya’ll), reader is head over heels for Steve - it’s mutual, reader is oblivious tho, Dustin being a slight menace (when is he not?), happy ending (& let’s pretend Max doesn’t end up in a coma/trance 🤗)
Masterlist If Interested!
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Steve Harrington was unfairly good looking all the time. The jeans that hugged his waist just right, the polo shirts whether long or short tucked in - snug around his biceps, Nike sneakers that always seemed pristine somehow, and the perfectly styled hair.
God, his hair. You wanted to card your fingers through the soft brown locks, tugging at them, desperate to watch him fall apart at your touch.
It was so unfair that he always looked like a Greek God, but it was even more unfair when you realized you had feelings for the man.
Not only were you stuck in his orbit all the time suffering over how hopelessly attracted you were to him, but you were also pretty sure that he had a thing going on with Robin Buckley.
Now if you asked Steve and Robin that? They’d freak out, assert they were just friends, platonic with a capital P. You almost believed them sometimes; mostly when Steve would turn those puppy dog eyes on you and you almost thought you had a chance with him.
Like earlier today, when Steve had grabbed your wrist, thumb stroking delicately against your pulse point; asking how you were holding up after learning your little sister likely only had 24 hours left to live, unless your friends figured out a way to stop Vecna’s curse.
Or like last week, when you and the party had gone out to the local diner. The kids had practically scarfed down the shared fries, leaving you none and your meal hadn’t come with any.
Upon seeing the disappointed look on your face, Steve had pushed his plate of the fried goodness towards you, claiming he wasn’t hungry anymore when you knew he’d normally demolish his food whole.
There was also that time a month ago when you and Steve were in charge of getting the popcorn and snacks at the movies tor everyone. When the teens behind you in line had been a bit rambunctious and bumped into you, Steve was quick to place his hand on your lower back, guiding you just a bit closer to him. He hadn’t taken it off until you were done ordering.
There was a series of things that Steve did that would forever be ingrained into your mind; the casual compliments he’d throw your way nearly on a daily basis, how he remembered you liked Diet Coke over regular, noticing when you went quiet - always the first to check in with you, or more recently letting you cry into his arms about the fact that your sister had been snarkier to you now than ever before.
So, yeah, you could believe they weren’t secretly together when Steve treated you that way, but you mostly chalked it up to him just being a good guy - because Robin and Steve were around each other constantly, attached at the hip. Working together, hanging out together, and Steve had dragged Robin into you and your friends' world permanently.
Which, don’t you get wrong, you loved Robin. She was hilarious, insanely smart, and fiercely cared about your friends. Dustin noticed these things about her too, and was constantly pushing Steve to go for it, which always hurt you more than you cared to admit. Why didn’t Dustin think that you were good enough for Steve?
As much as Robin and Steve vehemently denied that anything was going on between them, you didn’t want to get stuck in one of those situations where the guy had to choose between his best friend or girlfriend because he was secretly harboring feelings for the best friend.
So you kept your mouth shut, feelings for Steve tucked away inside of you. You were good at pretending.
No one knew how you truly felt, not even your own sister who was the most observant person you knew and could smell desperation from a mile away.
You had always been good about pretending in front of Max because you were the older sister. You had to be strong for her.
You had to be strong and pretend like it hadn’t shattered your heart to leave your dad behind in California. You had to be strong and pretend like Neil and Billy hadn’t scared the absolute shit out of you for their aggressive behavior. You had to be strong and pretend to be positive about the move to Hawkins even though it made you full of dread. That one wasn’t just for Max, but for your mom too.
The move to Hawkins had indeed been hell on Earth like you assumed it would be.
It had been one bad thing after another. Max and you getting involved in a world of alternate realities. Billy being controlled by the Mindflayer, then sacrificing himself; dying in front of your eyes. Your stepfather up and leaving your mom afterwards, which caused her to spiral into drinking after having to get two jobs just to make ends meet. Moving into the trailer park which you knew people would judge you about. The cherry on top was finding out that this Vecna asshole had now made your baby sister his next target.
The one good thing to come out of moving to Hawkins? Steve Harrington.
It’s why it was so, so unfair that you had these feelings for him and felt like you couldn’t say anything about it to him.
Steve had become a constant in your life. He had protected you and your sister from Billy that night he came searching at the Byers house, had always given the two of you free ice cream when he worked at Scoops Ahoy, drove you to school because he knew you and Max thought the bus was disgusting.
Somewhere along the way he was no longer Steve; the guy you went to school with by day and fought monsters with by night. He became Steve; the guy you were totally hung up on; and not just because he was a total babe, but because he had this heart of gold that he didn’t boast about, and yet it shined clear as day based on his actions for you, your sister, and the rest of the party.
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Steve’s currently on babysitting duty with you once again.
The two of you were watching over your sister, Lucas and Dustin while Nancy and Robin tried to figure out more about this freaky Victor Creel man, and the demon that had tormented his family years ago.
Your eyes trail over Steve, who was watching your sister like a hawk; never letting her leave his sight. His jaw was tense, a muscle there popping just slightly, brows drawn in as he watched her furiously writing at the desk across the Wheeler’s basement.
You were sitting on the couch, squished between Steve and Dustin. Your right leg and arm pressed against Steve’s left. Your heart hadn’t slowed down since he had patted the spot next to you, inviting you to take a seat by him.
You weren’t sure if Steve was making it his mission to completely invaded your personal space with the way he kept leaning into you, but you could get used to the feel of his body against yours.
You couldn’t help it when you started taking advantage of looking at his side profile, as his eyes weren’t on you. You may be good at keeping your infatuation with him a secret, but it didn’t stop you from watching him whenever you had the chance to.
You were lost in gazing at the smattering of freckles creeping up from out of the collar of his shirt and up his neck. Your eyes continued to trace the lingering few of them that reached his face. You so badly wanted to brush each of them with the tips of your fingers and lips.
You were fascinated by the length of his eyelashes at this angle, watched as they fluttered each time he blinked. You move your eyes to the slight stubble above his upper lip, his perfectly kissable plush lips that you so badly wanted a taste of.
You loved watching how protective Steve got of the kids when danger was around the corner, but you especially loved watching his concern for your sister. It tugged at your heart strings, knowing that someone other than yourself had her back without argument.
“I know you guys are staring at me,” Max suddenly shares, shoulders tensing up. It quickly snaps you back into reality that you had just been gawking at Steve.
You force your eyes away from him, not wanting to be caught by the boys or Steve himself, cheeks flooding with heat. You let out a brief hum of noise, pretending like you had just been caught staring at Max like the rest of them.
“What sorry-,” Steve replies, grabbing the stress ball off the small table in front of you and tosses it up in the air. It causes the muscle in his right arm to flex, his tongue poking out in concentration.
Your brain nearly short circuits, and you try to pretend like you were busy looking along at the book that Dustin had grabbed when Max interrupted the staring fest the boys were indeed having.
“You said you needed something,” Lucas tries to play it cool.
“Just hanging out,” Steve says, and you plead with the universe to make him stop throwing that damn ball into the air so you’re not tempted to watch him.
“How you think your eyes boring into the back of my head is protecting me from Vecna, I don’t know,” Max sighs, standing up, stacking a bunch of envelopes in her hands. You continue to pretend to be interested in the book while she starts walking towards the group of you.
“You can look at me now,” Max stops, and sighs in slight annoyance at how obvious you all are.
“Thank you,” Dustin mumbles quietly.
“Sorry-” Lucas and Steve reply, and Steve thankfully drops the ball back on the table.
“Max, what are you holding?” You ask her cautiously. You’re worried about her. She’s been coiled in on herself, like a spring ready to snap at any and all times, refusing to let any of you in.
You can see her clench her teeth, but she loses her resolve. Passing out an envelope to each of you on the couch. You stare at the letter with your name printed on it in disbelief, already realizing that it’s a goodbye.
You also realize it’s an extremely inappropriate time for your heart to tighten at the fact that Steve received a letter from her too; finally understanding that Max loved Steve like a brother despite her frequent smart ass quips to the man.
“Oh, and um, give these to Mike, El, and Will. If you can ever get a hold of them again,” She passes the rest of the letters to Lucas.
Steve and Dustin start to open up their envelopes, but yours is now crushed tightly in your hand. Head spinning over the fact that your sister thinks she’s not going to make it out of this.
“Hey, what are you doing? No don’t, that’s not for now. Don’t open it now!” Max snaps at them.
“Don’t- okay,” Dustin starts, “I’m sorry, what is this?” He finally gets out.
“Yeah Max, what is this?” You echo, voice hard, eyes narrowing at her. Steve turns his attention towards you at the change in your tone, eyes flitting back and forth between you and Max.
“It’s, um, it’s a fail safe for after. If things don’t work out,” She shrugs it off, like she hadn’t just admitted she has accepted her death. Your mouth drops open at her words, standing up from the couch to talk some sense into her.
“Wait, whoa Max things are going to work out-,” Lucas starts to plead with her.
“No! I don’t need you to reassure me and tell me it’s all gonna work out, because people have been telling me that my entire life and it’s almost never true,” She bites out, her eyes move to meet yours, her expression turning angry.
“It's never true,” She spits out at you, and you swallow hard, throat constricting at her bitter words.
Your relationship with her hadn’t been the same since Billy died. You knew she blamed herself, despite how many times you tried to convince her it wasn’t her fault.
She wasn’t the same girl anymore. No longer did she run into your room, giggling about something dorky Lucas had said to her. No longer did she ask you to braid her hair or paint her nails or watch a movie with her. No longer did she sit and talk with you for hours about anything and everything, now preferring her walkman and headphones over her older sister.
It sucked. It felt like losing your best friend, because as much as she was your sassy little sister, she was the one person you loved more than life itself.
You can remember holding her in your arms when she was born, and as you grew together, you swore you’d always shield her from the harshness of the world.
“Max,” You start, and fold your arms together, trying not to seem as upset as you are, “You’re not alone in this. We are going to come up with a plan to protect you. I don’t know how, but we will figure something out.”
Your words don’t soothe her. You didn’t really expect them too, considering she had just basically told you that your words of encouragement in the past had never meant anything to her.
“You’re always trying to protect me, but guess what? You can’t. Not this time,” Max shakes her head, her irritation growing by the second.
She’s nearly seething at this point, and you haven’t seen her this upset since she used to make her gaming name Mad Max; nicknaming herself after all the anger stored in her heart from the shitty cards life had thrown at the both of you.
Max says the cruel words before thinking, “Maybe if you weren’t so busy staring at Steve all the damn time because of your stupid schoolgirl crush on him, you’d realize I’m grown up now. I don’t believe in fairytale bullshit like you. I don’t need you to pretend to be strong for me when I know you’re not!”
Your eyes grow wide at her throwing what you thought was a secret in your face. Of course you had been naive enough to believe that she didn’t know you were into Steve. Just because she didn’t say anything, didn’t mean she didn’t notice it.
Not only had she just revealed that very private information in front of him, but she’d also just insulted your whole personality. You grit your teeth together, trying not to yell back at her, because as much as you wanted to explode on her for being a selfish brat right now, you knew that she was in so much pain mentally.
Steve watches you now, his lips parted incredulously at Max’s words about you liking him. He watches as the blow lands hard. He watches as the tears start gathering in your eyes at your sister’s sharp words.
The basement was suddenly suffocating, as you felt everyone’s eyes on you. You refused to look at Steve, worried about his reaction. You didn’t want to look at him and see him pitying you.
You needed air. You needed to get out of this situation. So you give her a short, curt nod, and then bolt up the stairs.
Steve immediately stands up, ready to follow you. Before he does, he puts his hands on his hips and gives a pointed look at Max.
“That’s,” Steve starts, shakes his head, then sighs, “That wasn’t cool, Max,” He says softly to the girl, who already had regret written all over her face.
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You don’t know where to go. You didn’t visit the Wheeler’s house very often, but you knew Ted and Karen were still home with Holly somewhere, not inclined to leave the house due to the fact that they believe a serial killer on the loose in Hawkins.
You also didn’t want to get stuck having a conversation with Mrs. Wheeler, though she really was lovely.
You just couldn’t handle her bubbly persona right now when you felt like your heart had just been ripped out of your chest and stomped on by your sister.
You decide to slip out the front door before anyone sees you. You don’t want to go too far, considering how even though you were beyond pissed and hurt by what Max had said, she was still doomed by Vecna, and you should be close enough to get to her if needed.
You catch sight of Steve’s burgundy BMW parked on the street by the mailbox. You walk over to it and try the passenger door where you’ve found yourself sitting in the last couple of days because of everything going on. You pull, it’s locked; of course.
You carefully prop yourself up on the flat trunk of the car, feet resting on the lip of the bumper. You’re not too worried about Steve being upset with you over it, as you’ve seen him sit here himself quite a bit; typically when the group is trying to make a plan and decide who’s doing what.
Your head falls into your hands, finally letting the tears flow freely now that you are alone.
You were extremely embarrassed at the fact that Steve had just heard that you watched him like an absolute weirdo.
It was awful knowing that he now knew you had a crush on him, when he so clearly wasn’t into you.
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Unbeknownst to you, Steve had already made his way up the basement stairs, did a quick check of the main floor of the house, before realizing you must be outside.
He glanced briefly out the back, then the front and his heart jumped to his throat when he saw you perched on his Beamer.
He’s nervous as hell to go talk to you. No one but Robin and Dustin knew it, but Steve was absolutely captivated by you.
He had been for a long time now, but never had the courage to bring it up to you. Dustin loved to tease him about it, purposefully bringing up Robin in front of you, trying to pressure Steve into just being honest with you.
You sort of intimidated him; you were this strong, capable, independent woman who protected the people she loved without fail or question. He was completely enchanted by it, but he wasn’t sure if he’d measure up to you.
He didn’t think he was in the same league as you, let alone have a shot with you. He hadn’t been great at talking to girls in a while, and he didn’t want to totally screw things up with you by making a fool of himself.
He had been pretending for so long that you weren’t the girl of his dreams, but after hearing what Max had said about you being into him, he knew he needed to make a move before it was too late.
He slips out the front door of the house, briskly walking up the driveway to meet you at his car. You don’t notice him approaching because your head is still in your hands.
When he gets closer, he can hear the tell tale sign of crying by the sniffling noises you're making, shoulders shaking gently. His heart breaks over seeing you in such a state.
He’s not sure how to approach you without scaring you off, so he reaches out to your arm, fingers gently grazing over your warm skin.
“Hey,” He whispers hesitantly to you, trying to get you to look up at him.
You go still at the sound of Steve’s voice and touch, groaning inside of your head. You couldn’t catch a break could you?
You want to stay hidden in your hands, but know you need to put your big girl pants on and face what’s surely about to be the most awkward interaction you’ve ever had with him.
“Hi,” You whisper back, head lifting from your hands, quickly wiping the tears off your face. You tuck your hair behind your ears and lean back to see Steve gazing at you already.
He’s got this funny look on him. One you haven’t seen before, and it scares you that you don’t know what he’s thinking about. If you didn’t know him, you’d call it adoration, but surely that’s not the case.
“Um, can I-?” Steve doesn’t finish his sentence, but he raises his hand towards your face making your eyes go wide. You give him a slight nod, not sure what he means.
When he gently curls a piece of your hair back behind your ear that you must’ve missed just moments before, you feel the tips of your cheeks burning.
He then trails that same hand to your chin, swiping away at some of the left behind moisture you had missed. He lets his hand linger there for a moment.
“I’m sorry,” You blurt out before you can help yourself, being around him like this starts up the word vomit, “I’m sorry, about what Max said about you. It was stupid, I think she was just talking in the heat of the moment and not realizing what she was saying. I’m so sor-” Steve gently quiets you with his thumb brushing across your rambling lips.
God, what is this man doing to you?
“Is it true?” He asks quietly, leaning towards you now. It’s like magnets being drawn towards one another. His feet are planted so close to you that the tips of your knees are brushing his thighs.
“Is what true?” You ask shyly, dropping your eyes to his lips and promptly lose concentration when his tongue darts out in a quick press to wet them.
When you flick your eyes back up to meet his, you notice his are already trained on your own lips. You swallow harshly, and think you might have to pinch yourself to make sure you’re awake right now.
He’s never been this close to you before, and it’s kicking up a wild storm of butterflies in your stomach. He’s still got one hand stroking your face, and he moves the other one to drop on your hip. His hand is heavy and holds you firmly.
You involuntarily let out a little whimper at the contact, making Steve grin cockily at you. It’s the signal he needed to gain his self confidence back, nerves he was feeling before disappearing.
He needed to make sure that he didn’t leave this conversation without officially making you his.
“Oh, I like that noise coming from your lips, honey,” He playfully tells you, stepping even closer.
His leg nudges one of yours, and he settles himself fully in between your legs. Your lips part, gasping at the movement.
What in the world is happening right now? Had you somehow died and gone to Heaven without realizing it? Surely you had because the feeling of Steve’s legs between your own was devastating.
“You still haven’t answered my question, angel. I think you know what I’m talking about; is it true?” Steve repeats himself.
You stare at him, at a loss for words. Your seconds away from throwing yourself at him.
Steve waits patiently for your response, but figures he knows how to get you talking. Since you hadn’t shown him any resistance, he presses a kiss to the underside of your jaw, right below your ear.
Your eyes shut at the contact, another soft noise being pulled from you that you didn’t even realize you could make.
“Does it matter?” You stutter out, feeling like you're about to run out of oxygen.
“Why wouldn’t it, angel?” He says that damn pet name again, causing your head to swim.
Your hand reaches out to the blue bomber jacket he’s wearing, grasping onto the material to try to ground yourself in reality despite this unbelievable situation you’ve found yourself in with him.
“Because, you’re in love with Robin aren’t you?” You decide to bite the bullet and just tell him, and Steve reacts like you’ve just dumped a bucket of ice cold water over his head.
He rears back from you, eyes wide in disbelief. It would almost be comical if you weren’t waiting on an answer that could absolutely shatter you right now; if he were to say yes.
He’s gaping at you, clearly not having expected you to say that.
“W-what?!” He yelps out, squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head before continuing, “Is that a joke? Did someone tell you that?”
“No one had to tell me, Steve. It’s not a joke either. It’s pretty clear you love her,” You shrug your shoulders half heartedly.
He’s still looking at you like you’ve just opened your mouth and started to speak to him in a foreign language. He tilts his head, lips pursing, mouth opening and shutting, trying to find the right words to say.
“Okay. Okay, sure, I love Robin as a friend, but I’m not in love with her,” Steve replies, still in a state of shock at what you’ve told him.
His eyebrows are furrowed a bit, creating a small dent in the skin in the middle of them. You desperately want to reach out and smooth it over, but you’re still uncertain about where you stand with him, about what’s happening between the two of you right now.
“I can see you’re still silently debating inside that pretty little head of yours, aren’t you? Can I prove it to you?” Steve questions when he sees you're still feeling doubtful.
“Please,” You manage to choke out.
Steve doesn’t hesitate, he presses another kiss to the spot below your ear, before trailing his lips down your jawline. He’s taking his time, ravishing you with his mouth.
You tighten your hand that’s resting against his chest, fingers still curled around the fabric of his jacket. Your other hand moves to rest at the back of his neck, playing with the tufts of hair that sit there.
Steve’s lips continue down to your neck. When he reaches your exposed collarbone, he gently nips at it, causing you to tug him closer to you, if that’s even possible. His tongue presses against the skin that he just bit, and you swear you see stars.
He makes his way back up the other side of your neck that he hasn’t touched yet, then drags his nose up your jaw and finally his mouth is just inches from yours.
He presses his lips to the corner of your mouth, teasing you, before parting his lips, still hovering above yours.
“Just kiss me already, Harrington,” You whine, tipping your head closer to him, and he laughs breathily against you.
“My needy girl, you’ve been so patient haven’t you?” He quips, and before you can snap at him to stop toying with you, he finally presses his mouth to yours in a greedy kiss.
His pink lips are pressing against yours hungrily, both hands on your hips now, dragging you towards him so you become fully flush against him.
Steve knows what he’s doing, expertly swiping his tongue against your bottom lip, coaxing your mouth open so he can kiss you deeper. You’re completely gone, dizzy with want for him.
Your hand slips further into the hair at the base of his neck and you tug at the strands there the way you’ve wanted to for so long. Steve makes this irresistible noise from the back of his throat, causing him to break away for a moment.
You don’t let him get far though, eagerly pressing your lips to his again not willing to let him slip away from you yet. You grow braver at the sounds of desire coming from him, letting your tongue dip into his mouth when he gasps for air.
You could stay here with him forever, drowning in this growing need for each other, but the moment is ruined when you hear the Wheeler’s front door slam.
You and Steve jump apart, but still have a hold of one another, breathing hard, glancing to see who just came out of the house. It’s Dustin, hands on his hips like a disappointed parent.
“Hey lovebirds!” Dustin yells, “We’re giving you five more minutes to make out before you both need to get your asses back in here so we can ask you something.” He turns around to walk back into the house, closes the door behind him just as hard.
Your eyes trail to the front window, seeing Lucas and Max peeking at you and Steve from the living room window. You roll your eyes, but with no true malice, at the fact that they’re always trying to get into your business.
Your lighthearted mood starts to fade at seeing your sister, knowing that she’s the reason you had left the house in such a rush to begin with.
“That little shithead.” Steve huffs a harsh breath out.
“He’s totally gloating right now. Constantly bringing up Robin in front of you trying to - wait a second - he’s the reason you had that wild idea in your head, isn’t he? I’m gonna m-,” Steve breaks off when he turns his attention back to you.
He notices your delated look, clearly not paying attention to what he’s saying, and thinking about the words Max had told you.
“Hey, look at me, sweetheart,” He urges you. When you do, he cups your face with both of his hands, holding you steady.
“What your sister said back there, about you believing in fairytale’s and not being strong? Don’t listen to that,” Steve starts, cutting to the chase, “She’s hurting right now. You know what they say about hurt people hurting people; not that it makes it okay.”
You bite your lip, nodding briefly, but your eyes well up with tears again at his words.
“I think it’s so, so attractive that you choose to believe in the good in this world. It doesn’t mean you're living in a fairytale, it just means you want a life that’s worth living, a life you deserve,” Steve says softly.
“And not strong?” He scoffs at the idea, “You’re the strongest person I know, having to deal with all the shit that you and Max have gone through. Despite it all, you continue to show up for her, take care of her, even when you're on the receiving side of her wrath,” He gives you that charming smile of his, trying to comfort you with his words, and you’re nearly blinded by his beauty.
“God, I’m obsessed with you, Steve,” You admit, bringing one of your own hands up to cup his jaw.
He closes his eyes at the touch and hums briefly, turns his lips to kiss the palm of your hand, before letting his head rest against your touch.
“Are you,” You swallow, “You sure you’re not in love with Robin? Because that would really, really suck for me.”
“I’m standing here, between your knees. I just had the best kiss of my life, with you, and you’re still asking me if I’m sure that I’m not in love with Robin?” He chuckles, shakes his head, and grabs your chin with his thumb and forefinger.
“Silly girl,” He chides you, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips this time around. Then his face grows serious, making sure you’re looking into his eyes before the next words come from his mouth.
“I promise you, I don’t feel that way about Robin. I can’t explain it to you, it’s not for me to share. But one day, I think Robin will tell you why it won’t ever be like that between me and her,” Steve tells you softly, eyes begging you to believe him.
You don’t really understand what he means, but you trust him, and you trust Robin, so you decide it’s enough and the last of your hesitancy dissolves
“If I knew you were gonna kiss me like that, I never would have pretended to not be carrying a torch for you. This feels so much better than pretending like I haven’t wanted you this whole time.” You laugh quietly.
Taking him in freely like this, without it needing to be a secret feels almost like love, it must be love you think; though you know you’re not quite ready to say that just yet.
“I’d say can’t you see I’ve been waiting here for you the whole time, but I’m a pretty good pretender too,” Steve shares with you.
“I’ve always wanted you, I want this, if you’ll have me,” Steve says, starting to feel love sick on you.
You answer him with another kiss, and before the two of you can get lost in one another again, there’s a clearing of someone's throat. You pull away reluctantly, and see Max standing there.
She looks uncomfortable, probably because of the position you and Steve are in against his car. He turns his head over his shoulder to see her there, and pulls away from you.
He grabs your hand to help you hop down off the car, hand sliding to your lower back to brush off the top of your jeans. Hand briefly gliding over your ass mischievously under the guise of getting the dirt off you.
“I guess our five minutes are up,” You joke, as you watch Dustin and Lucas walking up the driveway towards you.
“We’ll give you a moment,” Steve says, pressing a kiss to your temple, releasing you to usher the two boys back inside before they cause chaos.
You wait silently for Max to say something to you. She doesn’t, instead choosing to inch her way forward, before slipping her arms around you. You melt into her hug, never able to stay mad at her for too long, arms holding her tight.
“I shouldn’t have said those mean things to you. They weren’t true. It just that I’m-,” Max apologizes, and you fill in the blank for her.
“Scared?” You ask gently. She sighs, nodding against you.
“I just, I know you want to protect me. You always have. Physically or emotionally, you’ve done it since we were kids, but this feels heavier. Like the stakes are higher, and I don’t want you getting hurt. I can’t lose you,” Max confesses.
“Oh, Max,” You don’t know how to reply, knowing she’s right. The stakes do feel higher this time around, and there’s a good chance someone may not make it out of this.
“I can’t tell you the outcome of this. But I promise, no matter what happens, I’m going to be there for you. I meant it when I said you’re not alone in this,” You say after a beat of quiet. She nods silently again, holding you for just a bit longer.
“So, Steve?” She asks you once she’s pulled back, a smile forming on her face.
You roll your eyes and go to playfully pinch her cheek like you used to when she was younger. She swats your hand away from her, “I mean it looked like he was trying to swallow you whole.”
You laugh at her words, “Well I guess I have you to thank for that. You ratted out my secret! Luckily for me and you both, it turns out he feels the same way. What if he hadn’t? And how did you even know that I liked him like that?”
“You clearly don’t see the way Steve has a staring problem for you, just like you have for him. Besides, sisters always know,” She shrugs.
“So like how I know you obviously want Lucas back?” You tease, and a rare blush starts to form on her neck, confirming your suspicions.
“Shut up!” She cries out, but you see the warmth in her eyes, “And speaking of, let’s go get the boys. We’re making Steve take us on a field trip. I’m not spending what could be my last hours on earth in the armpit that is Mike Wheeler’s basement,” She shudders at the thought.
You hate that that's even a possibility, but you take her hand firmly, reminding her that you’re there, and head back inside.
Steve’s already got his car keys ready to go in his hand, eyes lighting up when he spots you and Max coming back in, clearly having solved the issue.
“You better treat her right, Harrington. I know a good lawyer,” Max points at him sternly, and Steve just smirks at the threat.
“Wouldn’t surprise me, Mayfield,” He replies, and pulls you into his side, refusing to let you go now that he has you.
“Besides, you’ve got nothing to worry about. I’ve been waiting a long time for her. I wouldn't dream of screwing it up,” Steve gazes at you, about to lean in to kiss you and the teens around you immediately pretend to gag.
You giggle as Steve groans in annoyance, before leaning his head towards you, whispering, “After this shit show ends, I’m taking you on a proper date.”
It’s an assurance that you’re looking forward to. You’ve waited all this time for him, a little bit more time wouldn’t hurt.
SUMMARY: in which steve harrington is far too cool to admit that he can’t see.
WARNINGS: mentions of head trauma, strong language.
WORD COUNT: 1.1k +
Lately, Steve had been bumping into everything.
Sure, everyone made mistakes now and then — that was part of being human — except his were constant. A couch? He’d walk into it. A shoe? He’d trip over it. A wall? He’d narrowly miss it.
It started with headaches, the kind that he could feel pulsating between his eyes. He’d always brush them off, complaining the lights were too bright or that he hadn’t gotten enough sleep. But then he found himself struggling to read things like the TV guide or the list of showings at the Hawk, and suddenly your face wasn’t as sharp as it used to be.
Then came the accidents.
It was only when he ran a red light almost crashed his car that you finally brought up your concern. As usual, he tried to laugh it off, but he’d never been a good liar, especially when it came to you.
He knew exactly what was happening. He’d always known the beatings and the concussions he’d suffered over the years would catch up to him eventually, but seeing it happen in real time hit him like a ton of bricks.
A quick trip to Hawkins Optical Shop confirmed that Steve was short sighted with a sensitivity to light, which was how you ended up in the front of the store, scanning a wall full of glasses whilst your boyfriend crossed his arms over his chest in misery.
You, on the other hand, were having a great time getting him to try on ridiculous looking frames. His face was priceless with every pair you handed him, each sillier than the last. You knew his protests were mainly for show, that beneath all the complaining he was actually quite enjoying the attention.
“Absolutely not. I look like a Beatle.” He grumbles, tugging off the black circular pair you’d given him. You have to bite back a laugh as you take them, setting them back down on the shelf and taking another look at the selection.
“Hey, what about these ones?” You ask seriously now, picking up a pair of round eye tortoiseshell frames.
Steve takes them dubiously, slipping them on and facing the mirror. He squints as he assesses his reflection. The glasses give him a surprisingly intellectual look, the blends of black and brown bringing out his eyes in a way that only made him more attractive.
He hums, cocking his head to the side. “These aren’t so bad…”
“They look good on you.” You smile, catching his gaze in the mirror. He spins around, narrowing his eyes in an attempt to look stern. He fails spectacularly, though, drawing a laugh out of you.
His lips turn up at the sound and he wraps his arms around you from behind, pulling you close and dropping a kiss to the top of your head. “Don’t get cocky.” He murmurs, “I’m still not happy about this.”
With a swift roll of your eyes, you reach for his hand and lace your fingers together. He lets you lead him over to the counter in the middle of the store, following after you like an obedient puppy dog.
The elderly receptionist, whose name tag read Benjamin, had been watching the two of you since you came in, smiling to himself as he rung up the purchase. Steve only let go of you to retrieve his wallet, paying for the glasses and taking the case and cleaning cloth from him.
After a final reminder to take care of his eyes, you follow him back out into the cool, autumn air, the bell above the door dinging with your exit. He pauses on the sidewalk, still adjusting to the feeling of the frames sitting on his nose. He could see everything with so much more clarity now; the signs across the street, the leaves on the trees. He glances down at you, his gaze softening as he got a good look at your features for the first time in God knows how long.
“I still think it’s bullshit that I need these.”
You tilt your head to the side, stuffing your hands into your — his — jacket pockets. “Steve, you couldn’t see.”
He scoffs lightly. “I could see perfectly fine.”
You both knew that wasn’t true. The number of inanimate objects he’d walked into spoke for themselves.
“It’s just,” He sighs, running a hand through his hair, “They make me feel like such a dork, you know?”
In spite of his protests, the glasses didn’t look as bad as he thought they would, and he was relieved that his vision issues were finally sorted out. Not that he’d ever admit it out loud, of course.
The next couple of days were pure bliss for Steve. His headaches had eased, he was no longer bumping into things, and wearing his glasses had quickly become like second nature. He couldn’t believe he’d gone so long without them. It wasn’t until Friday, during your weekly movie night at the Wheeler’s, that his insecurities began to resurface. He’d gotten used to wearing his glasses at home, but wearing them in front of other people was something else entirely.
The second you opened the basement door, you were greeted with the usual chaos that came with hanging out with a bunch of teenagers. Will and Lucas were rifling through a box of VHS tapes, whilst Dustin and Mike were stuck in a heated debate over sweet versus salted popcorn.
A creaky floorboard as you retreated down the steps grabbed their attention, their heads shooting up. Dustin, of course, was the first to notice the new addition to his friend’s face.
“Holy shit.” He gawks, “You’re wearing glasses.”
Steve swallows as all eyes fall on him. This was exactly what he’d been dreading.
“Yeah, I am. So what?” He tries to sound casual, but there’s a hint of defensiveness in his voice, as if daring anyone to make a snarky comment.
Robin, who was perched on the back of the couch, shook her head, tone considering, “Nothing. They actually… kinda suit you.”
Lucas nodded in agreement, abandoning the mix of movies. “You look all smart and shit.”
Eventually the group decided on a movie to watch, and two bowls of popcorn were placed on the coffee table. Everyone spread out whilst you settled comfortably on the floor between Steve’s legs, his fingers scratching absently at your scalp as the opening credits to Back to the Future fill the quiet basement. You let your eyes slip shut, humming contently.
Ten minutes into the movie, you felt his movement pause. He tilts his head down, lowering his voice to avoid the others overhearing. “Are you sure these things don’t make me look like a dork?”
“Steven,” You whisper, looking up at him with mock seriousness, “I have literally never wanted you more.”
“Yeah?” He murmurs and you nod.
“Yeah. And I’ll show you how much later as long as you keep them on.”
The corners of his lips quirk up then, and he drops a soft kiss to your mouth as he pulls you closer to his chest. “Your wish is my command, baby.”
When Y/N gets locked in the upside down, something comes for her
TRIGGER WARNING- BLOOD, TALK OF A VAMPIRE FEEDING FROM SOMEONE, HENRY IS HIS OWN WARNING
A/N- Hello everyone! Wow, four stories in one week?! I'm pretty proud of myself, lol. I hope you guys enjoy this one!
REQUESTS ARE OPEN
DIVIDER BY @dreamlandcreations
White-knuckling his grip on her hand, Steve tried to pull Y/N up through the gate, but as it closed, his grip loosened, her hand slipping from his sweaty one. Steve watched in horror as Y/N's knees hit the ground, the gate completely closing, sealing Y/N in the Upside Down.
Y/N stared at the ground where the gate had been open just mere seconds ago, but was now replaced by a long, orangeish-red crack. She looked around frantically, searching for another gate, but there was nothing. She was trapped in the Upside Down for who knew how long. The party had no idea when Henry would open another gate, or even if he would open one.
Her head snapped to the right when she heard a door hinge squeak; her heart pounded like the thunder rumbling from the sky. She stared at the library door, where she heard the noise. Out of the shadows came a very bloody and very dirty Eddie Munson. Y/N exhaled in relief, smiling slightly at the sight of the familiar man.
"Eddie! I can't believe you're alive! I'm so sor- Eddie?" Y/N's sentence tapered off as Eddie walked closer and closer to her. As he drew closer, Y/N could see the dried blood covering his ripped-up Hellfire shirt. What looked like fresh blood dripped down his face, staining his already ruined shirt.
Y/N took a step back, tripping over a vine behind her. She scoots back farther, trying to put distance between her and that thing that's masquerading as her friend. Eddie gets close enough to grab her ankle, his sharp nails digging into her skin, leaving trails of red blood leaking down into her boot. She turns over, grabbing onto whatever she can to stop him from walking into the library with her. She grabs a vine, but it slithers out of the way, letting Eddie pull her further away.
"No! Eddie, let me go!" She screams, still trying to latch onto something, anything around her. Eddie pulls her into the building, giving her a chance to grab onto the door, holding on tightly, preventing Eddie from pulling her in anymore. Eddie turns towards her, growling, his red eyes drilling into her. Y/N kicks him in the chest, sending him stumbling back several feet, giving her the chance to get up and run out of the library. Eddie growls louder from behind her, chasing after her.
Y/N looks behind her to see how close Eddie is to her, but doesn't see him. She turns around just in time to see Eddie land in front of her, black, leathery wings spread out behind him. His hand shoots out, wrapping around her neck, lifting her from the ground. "Eddie, please." She chokes out, her fingers clawing at his hands.
The world around Y/N fades around the edges as Eddie tightens his hold, before she finally goes limp in his hold, her hands falling away from his hand on her neck.
Eddie drops Y/N on the ground, moving to grab her ankle again, pulling her into the library without issue this time.
Y/N came to with Eddie standing over her, his red eyes staring intently at her, as if he couldn't figure out what she was. When he saw she was awake, he stood up, moving back towards the wall. She looked down at herself, her arms pressed to her body by vines, squeezing her just on the edge of too tight. She whipped her head up as she felt terror seize her, making her breath catch as she sees Henry come out of the shadow, his feet making a gross squelching noise as he stepped forward. He tilted his head to the side, leaning down to get a better look at the terror painted on Y/N's face.
"You and I will do wonderful things, Y/N. You will be a wonderful addition to our army." Henry said with a brush of two fingers down the side of her face. He stood up, nodding towards Eddie as he walked out of the library.
Eddie took a step towards Y/N, reaching his hand out towards her, pulling a scream from her throat as he made contact with her.
Henry rose from the floor, letting vines connect to his back, snapping his head back, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.
Y/N and Eddie stood off to the side, their red eyes connecting for a second before looking away. Y/N's eyes flitted from one kid to the next, before stopping on a girl that look familar. Her blonde hair was slicked back and slimy. Y/N's eyes narrowed at the little girl before darting over to Eddie, furrowing her eyes at her. She jerked her head towards the blonde girl, watching as Eddie looked at the girl, his head cocked to the side. He looked back at her, shrugging his shoulders. Y/N sighed through her nose, moving her eyes back towards the girl. I know that little girl; but from where?
Y/N kicked dirt from under her foot, her hands in her back pockets. She looked around, but her eyes kept straying to the blonde girl again and again. She looked at Henry from the corner of her eye, seeing his twitch where he was suspended above the ground. She walked closer to the girl until she was standing right in front of her, staring at her intently. Flashes of Y/N and a group of other kids flashed through her mind, each one with the little blonde girl in them. She spins around when she gets a flash of Eddie in one, with an attractive boy with brown hair and a younger boy with curly hair next to him. She gazes at the long-haired boy, watching as he fidgets in place, looking anywhere but at her. She rushes to him, standing as close as she can. Her eyes dart to Henry before turning back around to look at Eddie.
"You know who she is, don't you?" She asks in a whisper, her eyes darting back to Henry.
"I don't know her name, but I know she should not be here. None of these kids should be here. But that is not for us to decide. It is for Master to decide these things. We are only here to protect him." Eddie glares at Y/N, his eyes glowing a bright red as he stares into her matching eyes. "You are not to think of her again. You are to listen to commands either myself of Master give you. Do you understand, little one?"
Y/N's mind cleared as Eddie's eyes continued to glow brightly. Her eyes glowed in response as she nodded her head, moving back towards the wall when Eddie jerked his head to the right, forcing her to go. She stood against the wall, her eyes staying focused on the opening in the wall.
The party walks along in The Abyss, the only noise coming from the howling wind. Steve walks in the front, his face set in a scowl. Everyone gives him a wide berth, seeing the angry set of his shoulders, his tight grip on his sword.
The ground shakes around them, sending everyone stumbling around. As everyone straightens out, they watch in horror as a huge, spider-like creature comes out of the ground. It looks suspiciously like the Mind-Flayer back from the mall, but less human fleshy.
As the group climbs up to the cliff, Nancy takes off running, turning around to make sure the Mind-Flayer is following her. She dodges falling rocks, making it to the underside of the cliff, turning around to shoot.
After the group takes down the Mind-Flayer, the file into the chest of the monster, seeing El throwing Henry back onto a spike, blood pooling out of his mouth. El turns around, throwing her hand up, sending someone with a mop of bloody brown hair flying into one of the pillars. She turns around to throw another person against a pillar on the other side, turning back to Henry. Steve turns around to look at the person El threw into the wall, seeing her rise from her crumpled position. Steve is sure his heart stopped when he saw who stood up. "Y/N?" He gasps, dropping his sword. He faintly hears Dustin exclaim Eddie's name, but his world has narrowed down to one person.
Y/N's head whips around, her eyes narrowing at Steve, her lips pulling back into a sneer, sharpened teeth glinting in the yellow light. As Steve moves to take a step towards her, she lunges at him, throwing them both down towards the ground. She hisses softly, moving to bite at Steve, but is flung back into the wall by El. She stands back up, but freezes where she stands, her eyes rolling back in her head before she crumbles, hitting the ground with a dull thud. Steve turns around at Dustin's distressed cry, seeing Eddie crumble the same way Y/N just did.
He looks worse than Y/N, his Hellfire shirt in bloody tatters, hanging off his frame. His hair is matted to the side of his face and neck, tangled and caked in blood. Dustin kneels above him, his fingers pressed to the pulse point under his jaw. His eyes widen, looking around frantically. "His heart is barely beating! Somebody help him!" He yells. Nancy moves first, kneeling next to him. He pries open one of his eyes, looking into it. She rears back, whipping her head around to look at Steve.
"Check her eyes!" She yells. Steve scrambles to do as she says, pulling her eyelid back to look at her eyes. His brows furrow when he looks into what is supposed to be y/e/c, but is met with blood red. He presses his fingers against her neck, feeling her slowly beating heart.
"Her heart is beating really slow, too. And her eyes are red." Steve says towards Nancy, refusing to take his eyes off of Y/N. He moves to grab her limp hand, pulling it to his mouth. He presses a kiss to the back of her hand, leaving his lips against her hand for a few seconds before pressing her bloody hand to his chest. He turns his head towards the group, seeing Joyce take the ax off her shoulder and raise it.
Steve watches as Joyce brings the ax down on his neck. She hits him over and over until his head rolls off to the side, his mouth hanging open in a growl. Joyce drops the ax, rushing to pull Will into a hug.
Steve stares as Nancy rushes to rip Holly off the pillar, wrapping her in a hug. Mike rushes after Nancy, pulling both his sisters into a tight hug. Everyone else follows suit and pulls the kids for their pillars, holding them as they cough up whatever upside-down dust Henry infected them with, letting them gather their bearings before standing them up. Dustin sits with Eddie, holding his head in his lap, softly crying as he looks at the older boy.
Steve is distracted from his thoughts by a groan from below him. His head snapped over and down, gawking down as Y/N opened her eyes. She grimaced, closing her eyes for a minute before opening them again, turning her head to look at Steve. The red had dulled a little, staying on a deep red. She flinched away from Steve, scrambling up, her eyes frantically looking for Eddie. When her eyes land on him, she rushes off to him, pushing Dustin off with a hiss, pulling him closer to the wall, crouching over him, glaring at the others around them.
She stays hovering above Eddie until he shoots up from where he lies. He looks around him, sighing in relief when he sees Dustin and Steve standing closer than the rest of the party. He gets to his knees, moving closer to Y/N, rubbing his hands up and down her back, leaning in close to her to speak.
"It's okay, Y/N/N, Master is gone, we are free. You know everyone here. That's Dustin, and that's Steve, your boyfriend. They're not gonna hurt us. I promise." Eddie speaks to her in a soft voice, almost as if he's speaking to a spooked animal. Her head twitches to the side, listening to what he says. Her eyes dart to each person, staying on Steve before moving away, turning around to look at Eddie.
He roams his eyes over her, taking in her pale, gaunt cheeks, her eyes frantically wandering around. He raises his hand, touching her cold cheek. He darts his eyes away from her, looking around them for someone to feed her. When he finds no one, he sighs heavily, moving to pull her into his side. She slumps into his side, as if she can no longer hold herself up.
"She's weak, she needs to feed, soon. I would do it, but I'm no good for her; she'll get sick if she feeds from me. It has to be someone else."
"What do you mean by 'feed'? There's no food here." Robin huffs softly, staring at Y/N. Eddie stares at her until she gets it, earning a soft, 'oh' from her. Everybody stays quiet, slowly moving the kids behind them, shielding them from Eddie and Y/N. When nobody offers, Eddie sighs, turning towards Y/N, speaking softly to her. She listens from where she rests in the crook of his arms with half-hooded eyes, becoming paler by the minute. Eddie lowers them both to the ground, letting her rest in his lap.
"I'll do it. We can figure something out after we get out of here." Steve says, stepping forward, moving to take off his jacket.
"Steve, no, we don't know what that would do to you, let alone if she would be able to stop before killing you." Nancy says from further back, taking a step forward.
"I have to do this, Nance. I thought I lost her once, I won't lose her again." Steve steps up to the pair, lowering himself to be level with them. Eddie looks at him, nodding to himself as he hands Y/N over, gently guiding her head to his neck.
"I'll pull her back when she had enough. It will hurt for only a second. Just keep hold of her." He moves closer to Y/N, turning her head towards him. His eyes glow, pulling her attention to him. "Be gentle. You are only taking enough to get us out of here, no more. Do you understand?" Y/N nods her head, her eyes glowing in response. Eddie let go of her chin, moving further back.
Y/N rooted around on Steve's neck for a second before she found a spot, licking over it a few times before sinking her teeth into the skin, breaking it easily. Steve gasped, but it quickly turned into a content hum. He tilted his head back further, letting his eyes drift closed.
After what felt like hours, Steve let out a noise of pain, his face pulling into a grimace. Eddie moved, setting his large hand on the back of Y/N's neck, squeezing until he released Steve's neck, pulling her back. He pulled her back into his chest, pulling his arms around her torso to keep her in place. She dropped her head to his shoulder, letting her eyes gently close, a small contented sound slipping past her lips.
As the group stumbled into the WSQK building, Steve took up the rear, right behind Eddie and Y/N. Eddie refused to leave Y/N's side, worried about what she would do if he wasn't close by, if he had to stop her. He kept a firm grip on her wrist, pulling her closer to him if she strayed too far. As everyone filed into the basement, Eddie pressed Y/N into the furthest seat from everyone, moving to stand behind her, his hands resting on each shoulder. His red eyes scanned the room, stopping on each person before moving to the next.
When everyone was settled, they turned towards the two in the back, watching them for a minute before Hopper said anything.
"Eddie?" He asked in a soft voice. Eddie's eyes shot up, locking eyes with the former Chief. "What happened down there? How are you alive?"
Eddie's eyes flitted away, towards the door as if contemplating making a run for it, before exhaling harshly, looking down at Y/N. "I'm not quite sure. One minute I was surrounded by those bat, things, and the next I woke up and had the urge to find someone. I didn't realize at the time that person was Vecna. After I found him, it's a bit of a blur. I remember bits and pieces. But I remember finding Y/N. She was outside the library. She saw me, and the next thing I remember, I had dragged her into the library, then we ended up in that thing you guys found us in." Eddie refuses to look up at anyone, staring at the top of Y/N's head. "But all I know now is that I survive off of blood, and it seems that Y/N does too, now." Y/N lifts her head at the mention of her name, looking up at Eddie with huge, red eyes.
"How are you guys going to feed. It's not like you can go out and find someone to drink from." Nancy asks, her gaze never straying from Eddie and Y/N.
"We'll hunt or something, I'll figure it out," Eddie says, licking his lips at the mention of feeding.
Steve stares at the pair, watching as Eddie grows slightly pale, repeatedly licking his lips, his tongue grazing his fangs each time. Steve moves closer to them, sitting down next to them. They sit for several minutes in silence, listening to the others talk. Y/N gently reaches over, taking Steve's head in hers, resting it on her lap. Steve smiles softly at Eddie when he looks back at him, squeezing Y/N's hand softly.
The older group sits together on the roof of the WSQK building, drinks in hand. Steve sits with his arm around Y/N, resting his hand on her hip. Eddie sits next to them, close to Y/N's other side. Y/N takes a sip from her cup, licking the blood from her lips when she pulls the cup away. She rests her head against Steve's shoulder as she listens to the others talk about what they've been doing, her eyes closed, a soft smile on her face.
Steve leans over, picking up another beer, taking the top off before taking a long pull, standing as he pulls the bottle from his lips. "We've found a great place over in Forest Hills were gonna put a down payment on. It's right next to Eddie and Wayne's new place." Steve goes on about their future place, the smile never leaving his face. He sits back down when he sees Y/N rubbing her eye, pulling her contact case out of her pocket. She takes it with a smile, pulling the colored contact out of her eye to reveal the natural red color of her eyes. Steve presses a kiss to the side of her head, resting his hand back on her hip, rubbing up and down.
The group continues to talk, lulling Y/N into a soft sleep, surrounded by her best friends.
I Like The Hat (Steve Harrington x Plus Size!(F)Reader)
Summary: You - (plus size female reader) - never go to Scoops Ahoy when Steve is working. You only enter when he’s not scheduled to be working or when you know he’s on break. Robin, your best friend, finally confronts you about it because she knows you have a massive crush on him.
Notes: she/her pronouns, plus size Reader, no descriptions or Y/N used. Graduated the same year as Steve, but BFFs with Robin. Reader was bullied in high school. Reader isn’t going to college.
Warnings: Angst (but happy end), Negative-Body Image Issues, bit of bullying,
A/N: AU where the mall is still there after season 3 (meaning Steve and Robin as close as they are in Season 4/went through that character building but it’s still that summer..)
Words: 2309
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