never letting go: in which steve harrington plans on getting you back no matter what !
(consider this “modern” due to constant use of phones lol…..oopsies!!)
your friends had shamed you countless times for letting him back in. over and over, you’d let him crawl back into your life, only for him to fumble and slip away again. they told you he didn’t deserve you—that you were setting yourself up to get hurt. and yeah… you believed them, at least for a while. you were done this time. you had to be.
it all started when he suddenly became this “king steve”. gosh the thought of that stupid title alone was enough to make you roll your eyes.
every girl in school had eyes on him. just walking through the hallways together, you could feel the stares—but not on you. on him. his hair perfectly tousled, that stupidly charming smile plastered across his face, and the way he was way too friendly with every girl who dared look at him.
that alone wasn’t much of a problem, i mean, he could’ve put more effort into not being such a flirt, but it wasn’t steve’s fault that he was overly attractive…right?
it wasn’t until the late nights out, partying, drinking with god knows who doing god knows what, always failing to answer the phone. brushing the off with the same rehearsed line of “my phone died or you’re overthinking it babe i was out with the boys” that you seriously had enough.
you simply got sick of it. sick of the jealousy, the whispers, the feeling like you were invisible beside him.
steve’s friends had shamed him too. over beers and late-night hangouts, they’d laughed at him, called him an idiot to his face. how the hell did you let this one go? he’d never find another girl like you. he knew they were right. he hated himself for it.
as bad as it sounds steve himself was even kind of suprised that you actually stood on buisness this time. he’d heard the endless speeches of you claiming you needed better for yourself and finding a guy that’ll treat you better but within the next hour you were always back.
so after his multiple attempts of reaching out and being ignored by you. he started to sweat a bit.
.
it was now friday night, what was supposed to be you and steve’s weekly date night and exactly a week since before the whole “breaking up” happened. you heard the knock before you even saw the name flash across your phone.
steve.
of course
ignore! : baby, can we talk? please just gimme five minutes.
you shut it down. left him on read. better this way. cleaner. too many chances already. not giving him another one just because he suddenly realized he missed you. but apparently, leaving him on read wasn’t enough. because now he was at your door, hair messy like he just rolled out of detention, knocking like his life depended on it.
“please… open the door,” his voice cracked through the thin wood, low and strained.
you sighed, eyes squeezing shut. your heart betrayed you anyway. should ignore him. but your hand was already on the doorknob before you thought twice.
you cracked it open, just enough.
and god—he looked wrecked. hair falling into his eyes, lips dry, eyes rimmed red like he hadn’t slept in days. his hand pressed against the doorframe, knuckles white. when he saw you, his breath hitched.
“baby,” he whispered.
you forced your face neutral. “what are you doing here?” your expression cold
steve’s eyes softened, but the raw, tortured thing lingered. “i… i can’t do this anymore.” hand sliding down the frame, holding himself up. “it’s been a week, i can’t think straight… can’t sleep… can’t breathe without you.”
you scoffed. crossing your arms. you were a bit suprised to see him so distress. and even though you wouldn’t admit it out loud it was pretty satisfying to see. did he really expect you to feel bad?
you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest.
"yeah? well maybe you should've thought about that before you started acting like i didn't matter."
his jaw clenched, eyes glistening. “listen.. i know. i messed up. bad” voice cracking. “i thought i had more time. i thought you’d always be there… but you’re not. i realized how much of a dick ive been to you” hand curling into a fist. “and now it feels like i’m losing my mind.”
you swallowed hard. throat tight. “sounds like a personal problem.”
“baby, please,” he breathed, almost begging now, stepping closer. eyes dark, lips parting. “just one more chance. please. i swear i’ll do better. i’ll treat you right this time. the way you deserve.” he paused “just forget the rest, just me and you.”
your arms hugged yourself tighter. didn’t step back. he noticed. gaze flicked to your mouth, lingered.
“you said that before,” you murmured. hand brushing the edge of the door.
“i know,” he said. “but this time… i mean it. just one night. one chance to prove it.”
pulse hammering. hand sliding higher, brushing your wrist. gentle. breath catching.
“and if i say no?” you asked quietly.
eyes darkened. as id the thought alone disgusted him. lips curled into a desperate smile. “then i’ll leave.” hand drifting to your cheek, thumb brushing jaw. “but if you say yes… i’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you don’t regret it.”
silence buzzed. he was close enough for you to feel his breath on your lips. hated how badly you still wanted him. hated how easy it would be to let him back in.
“let me in, baby,” he whispered. “please.”
you hesitated—one second—then stepped back, letting the door open just enough for him to slip inside.
his eyes darkened the second you let him in. the door barely clicked before his hand slid to the back of your neck, forehead resting against yours.
“you have no idea how much i’ve missed you,” he whispered, lips brushing your jaw, breath hot. hand slipping to your waist. you didn’t stop him.
“show me,” you whispered.
breath caught. hand tightened on your waist. lips hovered—a split second—but enough to make you crave it. then he kissed you.
not soft. not careful. desperate. sorry and need-you-all-at-once. hand curled into your waist fabric, tugging you closer. you sighed. he groaned low.
hated how much you wanted him. but not enough to stop.
hands slid from waist to lower back, pressing you to him. mouth moving against yours, rough, desperate, scared you’d slip away if he let up.
your hands fisted his shirt, matching him. nails dragged over skin. grip tightened.
tears spilled before you could stop them. pulled back just barely. eyes widened.
“baby…” thumb brushed cheek. “hey… hey, don’t cry.” hand slid to back of neck, forehead pressing yours.
“please, baby… fuck, i’m sorry—” he finally started the feel the weight of the constant pain he caused.
“then why’d you let me go?” your voice cracked, quiet.
eyes squeezed shut, jaw clenching. thumb at neck. “because i was an idiot. thought maybe you’d be better off without me. but i was wrong.” hand slipped to waist, thumb brushing skin.
you swallowed. lips hovering.
“yeah,” you murmured. “you were.”
he parted lips, gaze dropping to yours.
“you’re all talk.” breath caught. then mouth crashed against yours. hand slid down your thigh, lifting you. gasped, leg wrapped around him. pressed to wall.
“you think i’m all talk?” he growled, teeth scraping bottom lip. breath hitching. “you think i don’t mean it?”
“steve…”
“let me prove it,” he murmured, lips beneath ear, breath ragged. hands under your shirt, cold fingertips pressing hot skin. “let me show you how much i missed you- how much you mean to me.”
hands tangled in his hair. kissed hard, teeth catching. groan low.
“not getting rid of me this time,” he breathed. “you’re mine.”
“show me,” you whispered. lips curled against skin.
“gladly.”
mouth pressed to yours again. slower. deeper. grounding hands. kissing like he had all the time in the world.
“you’re mine,” he repeated, breath hot. “forever.”
sighing into him. arms tightening. kissing like making up for every second apart. hated how easy it was to fall back into him. loved it too.
hands slid beneath shirt. fingertips brushing bare skin.
“this time,” he breathed, lips trailing down jaw, “i’m not letting go.”
and as his hands slid lower, breath hot against neck, you realized explaining this cycle to your friends would be… messy. again.
summary : eddie munson has a huge crush on y/n l/n. which really sucks, because she’s his friend, and she’s way out of his league... but god, she’s so gorgeous.
notes : slight spoilers for s4 :) so incredibly slight. that’s all <3 this is for all my eddie lovers in light of some... recent developments.
ALSO! requests are open :) check out my pinned post for more info on that. enjoy!
Eddie Munson has a crush.
Which is weird, because he hasn’t had a crush on anybody for what must be at least two years. Not for any specific reason. He’s just never allowed himself to feel those things for someone else, because 1) he always gets rejected, anyhow 2) there are more important things in his life. Like Hellfire Club. And actually graduating. In that order, of course.
But as much as Eddie wants to focus only his campaign, on recruiting new members, on at least passing the same math class he’s been in for who knows how long, he finds himself thinking about her a lot more often than he wishes he would. He tried to deny, deny, deny, for as long as he could, until it got ridiculous and he realized how stupid he sounded attempting to rationalize this odd set of emotions to be anything other than what they so plainly were.
Eddie Munson has a crush.
And she’s so beautiful. She’s got a gorgeous smile, she’s got a pretty laugh. Her voice is so perfect that sometimes when he reads things in his head he imagines that it’s her reading it instead, which has actually become a successful studying tactic in recent weeks. So maybe this crush has been a little helpful in areas of his life that he needs help in, but the hassle of it all is much more evident.
His favorite thing about her is that she doesn’t care for traditional labels, like loser or jock or stupid shit that movies made up to divide the high school population. She eats lunch with him and his boys, she cheers at the football games on Fridays, she participates in art shows and debate competitions on the weekends. And where somebody else would be outcast for trying to be so many things at once, it works for her, because it’s her, and anybody who even tried to shun her would be, for lack of better words, an idiot.
Here’s the thing. Eddie Munson has a huge crush on Y/N L/N, and he stands no chance.
And when he says no chance, he means absolutely zero. Zero as in zilch, as in it’s a pipe dream that he could ever be with her, as in the probability of her saying yes even if she had just hit her head in a serious car accident would be 100 to 1.
This is the main reason Eddie has been attempting to convince himself that he doesn’t actually have a crush on her, because if he allows the idea to take root in his mind he knows he won’t be able to let go of it. He won’t even talk about it. Saying the actual words would make it real. Too real.
Except, his lips tend to get a little loose when he’s not fully in control of his facilities. As in, when he’s high, which is at least once a week; unfortunately, he’s never alone when he smokes, which makes the chance that it’ll slip out much higher. For this reason, he always makes excuses not to get high with her. He lies about being busy, and if he actually agrees he doesn’t smoke enough to lose his ability to reign in his thoughts. He always regrets it when he does the latter, because even if he’s not super high, being even the slightest bit inebriated around her is a recipe for disaster. Y/N always looks prettiest when Eddie is high. Not that she doesn’t look pretty no matter what.
But today is a special day. It’s the last day of school before Spring Break, which usually would suck because the whole day Eddie would just be looking forward to the final hour. But Y/N’s parents are dragging her on a trip for the entirety of the break, so Eddie promised to make tonight extra special for her—as in, they’ll smoke, drink, listen to music, and all around have as lovely a time as is possible for him when he’s alone with her. They weren’t actually supposed to be alone, but everyone else canceled last minute. Very convenient. Sometimes Eddie wonders if all his friends know about this crush of his without him having to actually say anything.
Spoiler alert: there is actually not that much fun that is possible for Eddie when he’s alone with Y/N, because half the time he’s wishing he could be kissing her, and the other half he’s afraid he’ll say something dumb and fuck things up. But he’s not about to let her leave without seeing her for as much time as possible, so Eddie decides he’ll just have to grow some balls and act normal and be her friend even if he really really wants to be more.
Eddie doesn’t realize he’s been sitting in one place zoning out until he hears three loud knocks on the trailer door, accompanied by a voice that’s all too familiar, though he can’t make out the words. He blinks a few times and glances at the clock—he’s been here for 20 minutes. Maybe he should cut down on the, you know, drugs. It’s probably not having a great impact on his attention span.
“Eds, hurry up. It’s cold!”
Fuck. She’s here.
Eddie bolts up from his uncle’s Lazy Boy and heads straight for the door; not, of course, before checking his hair in the mirror by the TV. Looking good, Munson. Let’s hope Y/N thinks the same. (Who is he kidding?)
When Eddie opens the door and sees her standing there, he kinda sorta wishes that he canceled too. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen her look so good. Sure, he’s seen her in that really cute cheerleader outfit, which he calls stupid to her face but literally dreams about at night, but it’s nothing compared to this.
“What? You didn’t think I was giving this back, did you?” she greets, grinning playfully as she pushes past him and into the trailer. God, he feels like he’s about to burst, because she’s wearing his sweater. He let her borrow it a week or so ago because she spilled something on her own, but never got the chance to see her in it because he was headed to Hellfire Club, and he’s not late to that, not ever.
Eddie swallows and curses himself for standing there like an idiot before he closes the door. “That’s my favorite sweater.” It actually isn’t, but now it is.
She laughs and swings the plastic bag full of snacks and whatever else onto the table. “Too bad. It’s mine now.”
No complaints there. He’d literally pay her to wear it everyday.
Eddie does pretty well for the first hour or so. All Y/N wants to do is talk and eat chips and drink the shitty alcohol she managed to score off her older brother, and that’s safe for him, so Eddie has no issues with that. She talks a lot, which he loves. She’s talking about this movie she really liked as a kid when it happens for the first time.
“Fuck, what’s the name? I can’t remember the name. This is gonna annoy me all night,” she sighs, squeezing her eyes shut as if that’ll help her come up with it. Her legs are crossed and she’s sitting on the couch, a can of whatever it is she’s been sipping in hand. Eddie has one of his own but he hasn’t been able to drink much of it. He’s too nervous, which seems contradictory seeing as being a little inebriated would make him less nervous, but he can’t bother to try explaining the intricacies of his mind.
Eddie laughs a little at her, which prompts Y/N to open her eyes and give him a slight glare. “What’s so funny, Munson? I’m trying to remember!”
“My bad, my bad. Please, carry on remembering.”
She huffs. "Fuck, this is so irritating. Why can’t I just remember?”
Y/N heaves another sigh, placing her drink on the side table as she stretches her arms upwards. Before Eddie can really react, she free falls her upper body right toward him, landing squarely with her head on his thigh, and her arms on either side of her face; one hand brushing against Eddie’s side, and one hanging off the couch.
Eddie wants to die.
She looks pretty, looking up at him with those big eyes, smiling even more brightly than she usually does—or maybe it just looks that way, who knows. Either way, Eddie hopes he doesn’t look as starstruck as he feels, because if he does he’s sure she’s gonna burst out laughing.
“Woah, Eds, you’ve got really nice eyes. How come I never noticed?” Y/N reaches a hand up to grab at his face, and her fingertips leave scorching marks on his cheeks.
“Um,” he stutters, hoping she’s a little too off-her-rocker to notice. “Thanks.”
She giggles. “You’re such a dork.” And then her hands fall and she sits up and it’s all over.
Eddie decides he’ll drink a little more from that point on.
It’s about an hour before anything of that nature happens again. By that point, Eddie’s finished his can of piss and he feels it coursing through his veins, making him a little more loose, a little more him, because he’s so anxious right now that Tipsy Him is kinda just Normal Him. The two of them are sitting outside now. Y/N’s lying on her side on the picnic table by his trailer and he’s seated on the bench, listening to her retell a story about being kicked out of a grocery store.
When she finishes, she goes quiet, and Eddie wonders if maybe he should tell a story now. What about that one where he almost fell out of a rollercoaster in Minnesota? Or that time he was chased by 5 middle schoolers through the woods? Or—
“Wanna smoke?”
Never mind. That sounds like a better idea. “Hell yeah.”
They go back inside; to Eddie’s room, to be exact, which he cleaned up a little before her arrival. Just enough that it doesn’t look like he did it just for her, because even if Y/N’s never been to his house, everyone knows Eddie doesn’t exactly keep his abode spick and span. It’s a stereotype, but it’s pretty much true.
“Give me a sec. I pre-rolled some, just gotta find em...” he trails off, digging through his comics and other nerdy shit as he tries to remember where he put his tin.
“Oh my god, your guitar! She’s beautiful,” Y/N breaths, shuffling past him and toward his one true love. He smiles to himself as he continues to look, trying to ignore the urge to turn around and watch as she no doubt admires his baby. Finally, Eddie discovers that he’s hidden his tin underneath his pajamas from the previous night, which means it’s on the floor. He probably could’ve cleaned that up, but oh well.
Soon, the two of them are sitting on the floor, shoulder to shoulder as they lean against his bed and share a joint. Eddie doesn’t think he’s been so content in a while.
“Hey, why don’t you have a girlfriend?”
He almost chokes on the smoke that leaves his lips; just at the right time, he thinks, because if she’d said it while the joint was still in his mouth he would probably be keeled over trying to cough it up out of his throat. Y/N giggles at his reaction and lays her hand on his shoulder, making him turn to look at her.
“I mean it! You’re so handsome, Eds. And you’re probably the only guy I’ve never heard make a gross joke about girls.”
Eddie blinks back at her for a moment, unsure of how to react to that—maybe he should correct her, because while he’s never made a gross joke about a girl in front of her, he’s definitely done it otherwise. And then it hits him—
“I’m handsome?”
Y/N stares with this incredulous look in her eyes, like she’s somewhere far away and is struggling to get back to reality, where she’s just called Eddie Munson handsome and is sitting next to him smoking a joint.
“Yes, dork. You didn’t know?”
Eddie is completely and utterly terrified that he’s about to say the wrong thing. Even worse, he’s blank on words right now—his mind is essentially a wiped blackboard, and all that’s left are vague scribblings of time long past, shadows of sentences that he can’t make out. And he’s staring at her with bug eyes and she looks so cute waiting on his response, because she doesn’t look at all phased by the long stretch of silence that has followed her reply.
Finally, he thinks of something, and maybe it’s because he just wants to fill the quiet or because the high is starting to hit, but he doesn’t really ponder too hard about the consequences of his actions before he says—
“I really wanna kiss you right now.”
It’s Y/N’s turn to go mute, and go mute she does. Her expression is frozen in a smile, glossy eyes, eyebrows raised. Eddie feels as if he is going to explode. Chunks of his brain are going to splatter against the posters on his wall. They’re going to find his blown off fingers underneath the bed, next to his porno magazines. His eyeballs will fly out the window and the neighbor’s dog will eat them.
“Kiss me, then.”
BOOM. Blood splatters all over his carpet and his bedding and Y/N screams, cradling what remains of his mutilated body in her arms—
Oh.
“What did you say?” Eddie’s voice comes out as a mix between a croak and a whisper as he gawks at her face. She smiles and inches a little closer. The space between them is so small that he can smell the fruity alcohol on her tongue, smell the potency of the weed on her breath. It’s like a fucking aphrodisiac.
“You wanna kiss me, right? Then do it.”
It takes him a few more seconds to register her request; a few seconds too long, because before Eddie knows it she’s closed the distance. Her lips are suddenly slotted against his and there aren’t any fireworks, sparks, tingles, nothing; it just feels so incredibly right, like this is the only thing in the world Eddie is meant to be doing at this moment, at any moment, for all time.
She tastes like a bitter candy, a result of the different substances she had consumed that evening. It tastes really fucking good. Eddie hopes he tastes just as good as her, just as intoxicating, because maybe then she’ll need him in this moment just as much as he needs her.
Y/N hums to herself, something Eddie isn’t sure what the meaning of is, but understands when she pulls away just a moment after. She keeps her forehead touching his, and their noses are still poking one another as well, which Eddie appreciates because he wants to remain as close to her as humanely possible so the spell doesn’t break.
“That was really nice. You’re a good kisser,” she whispers, smiling so hard he’s sure her cheeks are aching. She looks him in the eyes and her pupils are blown up so big that they look like black holes, sucking him in. He’s happy to go along with them.
“I’ve wanted that for so long,” Eddie confesses, almost regretting it when she giggles softly.
“Me too.” Eddie feels like he should die right now, because he’s already in Heaven.
“Can we do it again?” His heart is pounding so hard he's afraid she can hear it.
“Wait.”
She’s quiet for a second, before she pulls away even further and takes his hands in hers. He misses the contact of her face so close to his, but in her eyes Eddie can tell there’s something she wants to say. Rather, something she wants to hear. He has an inkling he knows just what that is, but an inkling isn’t enough—he’s not sure anything would be enough to make him admit his feelings, because the idea of being rejected by her and losing her in his life forever is something he just can’t fathom. He needs her. Even if it means he can only have a part of her, he just needs something.
“Eds,” Y/N starts, her tone more serious than it had been before. Yet, her pretty smile hasn’t fallen, and her pupils are still staring right into his. He feels like his pupils are pretty big too, even though he can’t see them, and he wonders if he can see more of her like this—as if his pupils being larger would let him absorb more of her into his memory.
“Do you remember that one time i got mad at you? Like, really mad. That time we didn’t talk for a week. Remember that?”
Eddie nods. “Of course I do. Worst week of my life.”
Y/N’s smile gets a little wider but she tries to bit it back—it doesn’t work. “I said I was mad because you ditched our movie night for Hellfire. But that wasn’t the actual reason. The real reason was something really dumb that’s gonna make me sound so fuckin’ stupid, but I’m gonna tell you anyway. Ready?”
“You never sound stupid.” Alright. Enough with the buttering up, idiot. You don't have to say every compliment that comes to mind.
But she just smiles a little harder and ignores it.
“i wasn’t mad at all. I was actually just sad, because I really wanted to spend time with you, and then I was upset because I realized I shouldn’t be that sad about that, and then I was too scared to talk to you... because I realized, I really like you, Eddie. I really, really like you. I wanna spend every second that I can with you. I even considered joining Hellfire just to have extra time.”
Eddie’s mouth has gone dry.
“You don’t have to say anything. But I would really like you too, or else I might cry,” she adds, and he can hear in her voice that she is definitely not bluffing. The last thing he wants to see is her crying, especially if he’s the cause, so he starts to rack his mind for a way to properly articulate all the emotions and complex feelings and thoughts he has surrounding her.
Every time you look at me it feels like somebody has a hand wrapped around my chest and they’re squeezing really fucking hard, trying to make my heart pop out of my throat or something. Every time I’m doing something and you’re not with me I’m thinking about you. I want to be the person you go to when you’re sad, the person who makes you happy when you’re sad, the person who never makes you sad, because I want to love you so much that you can’t stand it anymore and you love me back just the same, because I can take it. There will never be a moment where I can’t stand it. I want to make you the happiest girl on Earth, maybe in the whole galaxy. Standing next to you I feel like a person. I feel real. You make me feel real. I can’t ever let you go.
But instead of saying all that, Eddie just smiles awkwardly at her and squeezes her hands.
“I think I might be in love with you.”
His smile falls a little because she’s made good on her promise; a few tears are running down her cheeks, but her lips are pulled into such a big grin that he would be remiss to think she was anything but extraordinarily happy. Like so happy that her face might split in two. And Eddie feels the same way, except he’s managing to keep it buried underneath the butterflies that swarm violently in his abdomen.
“Good. I think I’m in love with you too.”
Never did he think he’d ever hear her say those words. But here he is, slightly drunk and pretty high, which is a state of mind he promised himself to refrain from being in when he’s with her, and he wonders if maybe she’s just saying all this because she’s not sober. But before he can ask, she leans into him, and presses another kiss onto his lips—not as violent or passionate as before, but just as sweet, and a little more loving.
“I’m really glad everyone else canceled. If we hadn’t smoked alone, I wouldn’t have had the balls to do any of that.”
“I’m really glad you told me how you felt first. If you hadn’t, we’d be sitting here in silence for at least another hour.” Eddie laughs when she hits his arm just hard enough for him to know she’s just playing around, and finds that he can’t stop laughing, even when she leans into him and they fall to the floor, his arms wrapped around her body as she lies on top of him.
“I’m so happy right now,” he whispers, not really saying it to her. “I’m so fucking happy.”
Eddie Munson has a crush.
And she’s so beautiful. She’s got a gorgeous smile, she’s got a pretty laugh. Her skin is so soft that sometimes he just traces shapes on it to help himself fall asleep when he’s lying next to her. She supports him in everything he does—at least, everything that makes some sort of sense, otherwise she’ll aptly call him out on his stupidity. And he loves her for it. He loves her for everything that she is, everything that she’s not, everything she tries to be.
Eddie Munson has more than a crush. Eddie Munson is in love.
And thank god she loves him back. Otherwise, he thinks he might die.
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WARNINGS: Angst to Fluff, Mentions of injury, Language, S4 E7 spoilers
Summary: Hunting down a portal that Vecna had caused wasn’t your idea of a fun night and it most definitely didn’t help that you and your boyfriend, Steve Harrington, are at odds because of a previous argument. However, all of that gets put aside when Steve gets dragged underwater and is put in the direct line of danger.
A/N: Again, spoilers for S4 E7! Hope you enjoy!
Word Count: 3.8K
The water rocked the little fishing boat with such severity that it just added more to the already tense situation. With Nancy and Robin at your side and Eddie sitting across from you, Steve was as far as he could possibly be, which was fine with you. You didn’t even want to talk to him anyways. Just looking at him made you frustrated beyond belief.
Silence settled on the boat as Eddie and Robin used oars to push the lot of you closer to where the compass in Nancy’s palm was pointing towards. You white-knuckled your flashlight, as did Steve, looking over the side of the boat for anything out of the ordinary. While the beam of light was steady, you were anything but. An opening into the upside down was one thing – an opening into the upside down located at the bottom of Lover’s Lake? Insane. Utterly and completely insane.
A couple of little fish flitted by, twirling around and gliding by, both headed in the same direction. You frowned, but kept your light on them. A day ago, you probably would have cooed at the scene and thought stupid little romantic thoughts. ‘Aww, those fish are like me and Steve! Even though we don’t take the same exact path, we’re headed in the same direction, together.’ Now you wished a catfish would come up from the depths and swallow one of the minnows.
“Woah,” Nancy says, breaking the quiet and startling you, “woah, woah, woah, slow down.” The compass in Nancy’s hand rattled and spun, clearly upset at whatever was going on. Quickly, Eddie and Robin pushed their oars in the opposite direction to settle the boat into a stand-still. Nancy leaned forward with the compass, as did everyone else, both you and Steve shining your flashlights onto the tool. Dustin’s true north compass was going haywire.
“Whoa…” Steve breathes, unbelieving of the situation. Then, the walkie talkie crackles to life.
“Guys, what’s going on? Come on guys, talk to me, what’s going on?” Dustin’s voice sputtered through the speaker as Robin picked it up.
“Uh, Dustin, your compass has gone from wonky to wonky with a capital ‘aah!’.” Robin said, explaining what was going on to the best of her ability. You were still so engrossed in the flitting of the needle that you didn’t notice Steve silently slipping off his shoes.
“Steve? What are you doing?” Nancy’s words snapped you back to reality and forced your eyes on Steve. You watched in confusion as he set his sneakers underneath one of the little boat benches.
“Somebody’s gotta go down and check this out.” Steve said, like it was common sense. “Unless one of you four can top being a Hawkins High swim co-captain and a certified lifeguard for three years, then…” He said trailing off. You were shaking your head unconsciously. No, no, no. As much as your boyfriend pissed you off right now, so much as to want him off the boat, you did not want to send him down to the murky depths of Lovers Lake.
“Four years.” You state, drawing everyone’s attention to you. “I’ve been a certified lifeguard for four years.” Steve rolls his eyes slightly.
“Y/N, this isn’t a competition.”
“Four years of being a certified lifeguard and five years on the swim team.” Steve frowned and his eyebrows narrowed.
“Like I said, this isn’t a–”
“I’m going down there. I can top your qualifications, so I’m going to look.” You say definitively. You make quick work of your shoes and socks and slip off your sweater, leaving you in just your jeans and top. Steve shakes his head and begins to stand up.
“It’s gotta be me. No complaints, all right?”
“Hey, I’m not complaining,” Eddie says, his voice feeling far away. “I do not wanna go down there.” He wordlessly gets a plastic bag out from who knows where, fitting a flashlight inside. As Steve began taking off that yellow sweater which, much to your chagrin, you adored on him, you stood up to match his stance. Eddie held the light up, which both you and Steve grabbed at the same time. The two of you matched your gaze, neither of you backing down.
“Steve,” you say his name through gritted teeth, “I’m going down there, whether you like it or not.” Without a second thought, Steve brushed back a strand of hair that was in your face behind your ear, touching the shell of it lightly. You hesitate slightly, letting Steve have the advantage as he slipped the flashlight from your grasp.
“No. I am.” Quickly, Steve shoved his sweater into your hands and dived off the side of the boat, rocking it slightly, and disappeared into the dark water. You stand still in shock for a few moments, looking at your friends. Nancy’s eyes were wide and Eddie was trying to light a cigarette but was thwarted by Robin plucking it from his fingers and tossing it into the lake.
“Y/N… you can sit back down.” Robin suggests. But you can’t. You just keep standing, your flashlight on the spot where Steve descended into the murky depths. You’re frozen and will not thaw until your boyfriend comes back.
It was like the world had halted its course of movement and time was no longer relevant. You stood stagnant for what seemed like mere seconds but also hours. Your thoughts were only proven wrong when Robin asked for a time check.
“Where are we at Wheeler?” She asked, her voice flimsy.
“Closing in on a minute,” Nancy said, trying to keep her tone steady. You heard Robin mumble an “okay,” but kept your eyes trained on the water lapping at the fishing boat. Not speaking, just thinking about that argument you and Steve had just yesterday.
“Steve, is it so crazy that I want to go to meet your parents?!” You exclaimed, hands in fists by your waist.
“Obviously not Y/N, it’s just that- that I’m not sure it’s the best idea.” Steve says, exasperated, his hands in his hair. Your eyebrows knit at his comment.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that my parents aren’t the kind of people who you’d really want to meet.” Steve said, looking anywhere else than where you were.
“I’m your girlfriend, they seriously don’t want to meet me?”
“No, that’s not it–”
“Or do you not want them to meet me?!” You exclaim, folding your arms tightly.
“Now you’re just putting words in my mouth.”
“You’re not denying it!” You shout, raising your arms and letting them fall to your side.
“Y/N, Y/N! You’re not listening to me! I’m just saying it’s not the best idea!” You shake your head and sigh.
“I didn’t think you meeting my parents was the best idea and it was fine.” You explain, a serious and slightly shake tone accompanying your words.
“Y/N/N, your idea of a bad idea is your mom showing all your baby pictures and your dad getting into an in depth conversation about his research.” Your face heats as your brain replays the memories of when Steve first met your parents. You can still see him sitting next to your mom as she leafed through several pictures and recounted early memories of your childhood. You can see Steve at your dinner table, actively engaging as your dad went into the nitty-gritty details of his research focus, nodding his head at all the right times and asking questions. Your fears were quelled, so why wouldn’t his be?
“Do you think I’m going to fuck up that badly?” You ask, stone faced. Behind Steve’s eyes, you could see him scrambling for a way to answer your question, but he comes up with none. Scoffing, you turn away from him before he could see the tears in your eyes. “Screw you, Harrington.”
You heard someone drumming their fingers on their leg in impatience, another one huffs, and the third bounces their knees. You were about to ask for another time check, but a loud and large splash caused you to stumble and fall into the boat, your heart lurching in your chest.
“OH CHRIST!” Eddie yelped, everyone else gasping in fright. The splash revealed Steve, treading water and taking deep breaths.
“I found it,” he says, swimming closer towards the boat.
“You found it?!” Nancy exclaims, relief and surprise evident in her voice.
“I found it. Yeah. I found it.” Steve sort of sputters, breathless and now hanging onto the side of the boat. You could hear the sighs of relief behind you, but the only thing on your mind was the boy in front of you. Shimmying your way towards where Steve was, you kept your eyes on his – and his were on yours.
“Dustin, you are a goddamn Einstein. Steve found the gate.” Robin gushes, communicating with the trio of freshmen on the shores of Lovers Lake.
“It’s pretty wild,” Your boyfriend is, giving you sort of a lopsided and breathless smile. “It’s more of a snack-size gate than the big mama gate, but still, it’s pretty damn big.” He’s panting through his words and you almost let out a laugh at his comment, but it’s shoved right back down your throat when Steve unexpectedly gets dunked back underwater. You’re already on the edge of the boat, but your three friends behind you clamor towards where Steve was. Almost as quickly as he was submerged, he popped back up with a severely confused look on his face. He looks at the water, then back at you. Before either of you could utter a word, he’s violently dragged back underneath. And this time, it doesn’t look like he’s coming back up. He was the minnow that got swallowed by the catfish.
“STEVE!” You scream, disbelief circling your mind. But there was no time for that. Instantly, you shuck the blanket that you had wrapped around yourself and dive head first into the murky waters. The second your body hits the water, a chill works its way through your bones. The water is cold, almost to the point of freezing, and Steve was nowhere to be seen. You look around, your floating hair obscuring your vision for a few moments. You use your arm to brush the strands away, and that’s when you see the dim, but glowing, red light stemming from the bottom of the lake. Pitching yourself downward, you began your descent, kicking your legs and using your arms to push you further and further towards the portal. No matter what Steve had said, whether it was snack-size or a big mama, the portal was terrifying. Any movie or comic book trying to create a sort of sci-fi replication of the portal could never do it justice. Tendrils seemed to wrap around it and the atmosphere was dark on the other side. But Steve had been dragged through there, and so, you will follow.
The portal had swallowed you and spit you back out about five feet into the air. You waved your arms around, trying to catch your bearings, before gravity slammed you back into the Earth. You gasp, the fall knocking the wind out of your lungs, before scrambling to your feet. And that’s when you see him. Steve, on the ground, shaking his legs and grasping at the tendril that's wrapped around his throat. Biting at his torso, biting at his legs, constricting his ability to breathe were bats of the sickest kind. Your eyes flit from side to side, trying to see if there’s something you could use to swat them away. Lo and behold, an oar was resting just meters away from Steve. Running, you snatch it into your hands and aim directly for one biting into his exposed chest. The oar makes direct contact with the creature, knocking it a few feet away before it limps and flies away into the distorted sky. Steve meets your eye and then glances sideways to where you had a feeling, Robin, Nancy, and Eddie were standing behind you.
“Hey there,” you murmur. And after that one little comment, a fight breaks out – some of Hawkins High’s best and brightest versus creatures from another dimension. Piece of cake. After a while of swinging and swatting, bludgeoning and beating, Steve finishes off the last of the bats by ripping its body apart and tossing its bottom half sideways. His breaths are heavy as he spits blood from his mouth, but he’s okay. “Steve,” you whisper, running to him but staying away an arms length. You rake your eyes over his torso, inspecting all of the bites and checking to see if he was truly alright.
“They took about a pound of flesh,” he remarks, his fatigue evident. “But other than that. Never been better,” he says. You nod and press your lips together, because you can already feel the tears welling in your eyes. Steve leans down just a bit to fully meet your eyes. “Y/N. I’m okay.” His brown doe eyes meet yours and the softness of his face makes yours crumble. You let the floodgates open and wrap your arms around him, pressing your face into his chest. One of his arms wraps around your waist, his other hand coming up to brush your hair, twirling some of the strands with his fingers. “I’m okay, I’m okay.” He whispers. Whether he was saying it reaffirm to you or to reaffirm himself, he was there and alive.
“Uh, do you think these bats have rabies?” Robin’s question strikes you so much that you pull away from Steve, looking at her with a confused expression. Steve’s face mirrored yours.
“What?” Steve asked, squinting his eyes.
“It’s just that rabies are, like, my number one greatest fear. And I think we should get you to a doctor soon because once symptoms set in, it’s too late. You’re already dead.” Robin’s momentary word vomit gets interrupted by the chittering of more bats, the swarm landing to guard your exit from the Upside Down. The five of you move to compact yourself closer together, assuming a sort of battle formation.
“Alright, that’s not that many.” Steve suggests, tilting his head a bit causing his hair to flop forward. “We can take ‘em, right?” It was a shame Steve didn’t knock on wood. All of a sudden, it seemed like thousands of those bats were headed right towards your group, ensuring that leaving the Upside Down would not be achieved through the snack size portal.
“The woods, come on!” Nancy says, taking off towards the spindly trees. Without a second thought, the rest of you are off, following Hawkins High’s “it” girl into the treacherous-looking forest.
After a while of running, the swarm eventually caught up to your rag-tag group, causing the five of you to clamber under a boulder, the Upside Down’s version of Skull Rock. You tried to keep your breathing even as you heard the shrieks of the tentacle bats and the cracking of thunder. To put it simply, this place was utterly terrifying.
“Oh… okay. That was close.” Robin said, relieved as she crawled out of Skull Rock’s cover.
“Too close,” Eddie remarked, following Nancy as the rest of you walked back into the clearing of the woods.
“Oh, sh…shit.” Steve stammered, all but collapsing onto the boulder. You whip your head around.
“Steve?” You ask, stopping in your tracks. “Oh my god.” Your eyes fall on where one of the bats had latched onto him, revealing a deep gash where blood seemed to have been leaking from for quite a while.
“I’m fine,” he says, trying to pass it off.
“No, you’re not.” You say pointedly, walking right up to him to get a better look at the wound. “Good god Steve, you’re losing blood. Sit down, come on.” You help your boyfriend slide down the rock to sit down on one of the smaller rocks. Assessing it quickly, you see that it’s a deep puncture wound with no signs of the bleeding stopping. You think, just for a moment, before starting to rip the lower portion of your shirt off to serve as a bandage.
“Okay,” Robin says, settling down next to you, “So the good news is I’m pretty sure woozieness is not a symptom of rabies. But if you start having hallucinations or muscle spasms or you start feeling aggressive like you want to punch me, let me know.”
“Robin,” Steve grits out.
“Yeah?” She asks, hopeful yet worried.
“I kinda wanna punch you.” You laugh despite the situation and Robin joins you.
“Sense of humor is still intact. That’s a good sign.” Robin remarks.
“Yeah,” Steve nods, a strained smile on his face. Finally, you manage to fully rip the fabric off. Holding it up before Steve’s wound, you’re thankful it looks big enough. You meet Steve’s eyes and the both of you give a hesitant nod.
“Okay,” you say as Steve peels himself away from the wall, giving you the ability to wrap the cloth around his body. “You ready?”
“Yep. Fire away,” Steve grimaces. You try to be as efficient as you can, wrapping the cloth as quickly as possible while making sure it’s as painless yet thorough as it could be. However, now was the hard part – tightening it.
“Sorry,” you murmur, cinching it and wrapping it back around towards his abdominals.
“It’s okay,” he manages, but you can tell he’s moments away from yelling out in pain.
“Is it too tight? Not tight enough?” You ask before folding the remaining strands away.
“No, it’s good.” He assures you. Getting what was essentially a go-ahead, you tuck away the cotton and smooth it out. “Thank you.” You’re quiet for a few moments.
“I don’t have to meet your parents.” Is what you finally say, shocking him a bit.
“Huh?”
“If you don’t think it’s a good idea, then I don’t have to do it. You and your feelings are more important than my preconceived notions of how relationships should work.” You tell him.
“Y/N–”
“Steve, really.” You give him a small smile. “I understand that cookie-cutter relationships aren’t really a thing, so we don’t have to do everything or anything that other people do.” Steve sighs as a smile works its way back onto his face.
“When I was saying it was a bad idea, it had absolutely nothing to do with who you are and everything to do with who they are. Well, my dad really. I want you to meet my mom. Maybe when we get back and things aren’t all…?”
“Scary? And thunder-y? And with a lot less bats?” You suggest, causing Steve’s smile to break out into a full on grin.
“I love you.” He says, taking your face with his hands and pressing a searing kiss to your lips. It’s soft but with a hint of something fierce. You both know you have company around so there wasn’t a chance that the kiss could be an introduction to a full on make-out session, but it said everything that those many kisses could say.
“I love you, too.” A big boom of thunder makes you flinch, bringing you back to the present. Helping Steve to his feet again, you wander out from under Skull Rock.
“So, uh… this place is like Hawkins, but with monsters and nasty shit?” Eddie asks, his voice echoing throughout the clearing.
“Pretty much,” you affirm. As Eddie’s about to hop down from whatever rock he was using to survey the land, Nancy stops him.
“Wait, watch out for the vines. It’s all a hive mind.” She warns.
“It’s all a what?”
“All the creepy crawlies around here. They’re like ‘one,’, or something. Step on a vine, you’re stepping on a bat, you’re stepping on Vecna.” Steve explains. Eddie nods his head and frowns.
“Shit.” He starts to make his way down, avoiding all of the tendrils.
“But everything from our world is here except people, right?” Robin wonders.
“More or less,” you nod.
“So we could go and grab weapons, food, anything we need from the police station right?” Robin suggests.
“Yeah, dunno if Hawkins is gonna have grenades, Robin.” Steve says, a deadpanned look on his face. “But maybe guns.”
“We don’t have to go all the way downtown for that, though.” Nancy interjects. “I have guns… in my bedroom.”
“Seriously? You’re not lying?” Eddie asks with a skeptical tone.
“That’s a perfect idea. Reminds me of when I was with you and Jonathan, fighting that thing the first time around.” You remark, gaining a reminiscent smile from your friend.
“Yeah, well, you almost shot me with the one she gave you.” Steve remembered, nudging you. A playful smile erupted on your cheeks.
“Who could blame me? We were hunting monsters and there you come in, barreling through the door like a bat out of… well,” you say laughing a bit. Steve’s gaze is on yours again, doe eyes back in full effect when a jean-jacket vest collides with him.
“For your modesty, dude.” Eddie says. Both you and Steve gave him a look, but before you could rip Eddie a new one, the ground began to shake. Nancy, Robin, and Eddie clung to each other to try and remain upright but ended up laying on the ground whereas Steve hooked an arm around your waist and held you to him, bracing the both of you against skull rock. You could feel his breath hot against your neck as he panted, keeping the both of you safe as he dug his feet into the ground. Thankfully it stopped before harm could really have been done, but the wailing of bats made your group focus up. Even as the shaking stopped, Steve kept his arm fully encircled around you, keeping you close.
“Should probably get those guns,” you breathed.
“Yeah guns seem like a good idea to me.” Eddie agreed.
“Yeah, me too.” Robin says. You twist around in Steve’s grasp to kiss his jaw. He nods and lets you go, putting on the jean vest swiftly.
“Then what are we waiting for?” He takes your hand in his and begins the journey towards the Wheeler’s house. You know what you’re up against is anything but a walk in the park and that monsters roam in every corner and facet of this dimension. But somehow, you feel peace in the way that Steve holds your hand. You feel his callouses, the skin tough from wielding that baseball bat to ward off demogorgons and demodogs. You’re able to trace the indents and lines, pretending for just a second you know what they mean. And when he squeezes your hand? You know he’s with you – forever and always, through thick and thin.
Summary- You are very excited for Halloween Steve, however, is not.
My arms are piled high with Halloween decorations and masks. Robin has to hold the door open for me to enter work.
“You guys are late, I had to manage the phone, customer questions, and the cashier.” Steve groans out, “And you carpooled without me!”
“Don’t be a baby,” Robin laughs as she walks up to the counter.
I quickly barrel past Robin stuff falling off the pile I’m holding and I dump it all on the counter.
“What is all this stuff?” Steve asks confused.
“Duh, Isn’t it obvious Harrington?” Robin says it like it is the most obvious thing in the world.
“Halloween decorations!” I smile widely throwing my hands up in celebration.
“So let me get this right you two went Halloween shopping and that’s why you’re late? Seriously, Halloween shopping?” Steve says not understanding why we were so excited.
I am quick to respond by listing all the reasons why this season is the best. “Come on Steve Halloween has all the best stuffff! It has candy, apple picking, carving pumpkins, hay rides, costumes, scary movies-”
“I thought you would have had enough of scary by now Y/N. I mean why do you want more scary stuff when we have already experienced real truly terrifying stuff.” Steve interrupts me trying to reason against all our spooky Halloween decorations being put up at work.
I roll my eyes and whisper quietly “What if I wear the sexy Halloween costume of your choosing. Would that make Halloween the best?”
Robin tries extra hard to hear what you said but is not successful all she sees is Steve’s eyes double in size. Steve immediately grabs some Halloween decorations to put up and Robin stares in shock as Steve suddenly gets over his dislike for Halloween.
“Come on Robin! Hurry up and get decorating!” Steve rushes.
Robin turns to me with her jaw still open in shock “How on earth did you get him to do that.”
I smile, “Close your mouth, Robin, you are going to eat a fly.” I skip away soon after to help Steve with decorations.
summary : what started as a summer fling has left steve lovesick. little does he know, you’re suffering just the same.
notes : NSFW! there isn’t a lot of detailed, long smut, but certainly some implied explicit scenes and language.
ALSO! requests are open so check out my pinned post for more info on that :)
ALSO also! i just wanted to thank everybody for all the attention my recent eddie fic got. it really surprised me how much everybody seems to love it!!! i hope u guys enjoy this one too <3
music : skin tight by rayvn lenae ft. steve lacy :)
Steve’s not entirely sure why exactly it began. All he remembers seeing you for the first time; not the first time you met, but the first time he actually saw you, saw you for what you were. He remembers thinking that you were beautiful, and he remembers wondering how he never noticed before, after all these years of knowing you. It made him slightly uncomfortable, how gorgeous you were. He just couldn’t look at you in the way he used to—in that brotherly, companion, best friends forever sort of way.
It was at a party. Graduation party, to be exact. Somebody whose name Steve had never heard was hosting it, but it was in the town, so he was okay with going. You tagged along with him because who else would you tag along with; you went almost everywhere together, and that wasn’t changing just because high school had ended. He drove the two of you. He doesn’t recall having any weird thoughts during the drive, and even when you entered the party, which was already raging by the time you arrived. Fashionably late, right?
What happened, in the span of an hour or so, that changed Steve’s perception of you so completely? He couldn’t pinpoint it, no matter how hard he tried. It wasn’t as if he’d had an extraordinary amount to drink; he knew how to handle his liquor, and the alcohol at this particular function wasn’t of especially good quality, anyhow.
You were talking to a girl. He didn’t know the girl’s name, but he had seen you with her once or twice. What the girl looked like is irrelevant; he wasn’t really studying her, anyway. It was you that he looked at, from across the room—you, and the way you laughed, the way your eyes sparkled in the dim lights overhead, the way you were standing, all sure of yourself, leaning against the wall as you watched the girl speak. And you hadn’t even had anything to drink. You were the designated driver.
How could you look so confident sober? Steve sure did not possess that quality. Not at all.
Steve felt an overwhelming desire to walk over there, drag you to the bathroom, and fuck the daylights out of you. And that really scared him, so he swallowed the rest of his drink and wandered off to go chat up someone else. But they weren’t you. And it scared him even more that he was comparing someone he planned to sleep with by the end of the night to you, his best friend since the fourth grade, and that this person... they weren’t measuring up.
Nobody could measure up to you. Nobody.
What Steve doesn’t know is that you have seen him for the entirety of your friendship. You’ve seen him, not just as best friend and partner to always rely on, but as hot, playboy Steve. Dreamy Steve, with those eyes and those pillowy lips, with those strong arms and big hands that you sometimes feel guilty about staring at for a little too long. Thank god he's far too oblivious to notice. Steve has never seen you that way, and he never will. You can’t tell whether or not you should be sad about it.
You don’t know how long you’ve wanted him. You’ve always thought he was attractive, but wanting someone? That’s different. 4 years, maybe? That would be the full ride of your high school years, which seems right. Even through his thing with Nancy, you wanted him. It hurt more than you’d like to admit to pretend like things were just fine, to comfort him when they fought and eventually broke up, and through all the stuff afterward. Because Steve never truly got over her, not in the way he said he did. And that might’ve hurt more than all the other stuff combined.
So, when Steve started coming on to you, it was very hard for you to refuse him.
The first time it happened, you were at a beach party one of your friends was hosting, out of town. You dragged Steve with you because you didn’t want to drive somewhere far alone, and he obliged, but only if you agreed to staying in a hotel for the night, because he did not want to be the designated driver. You were more than happy to say yes, and off you went.
Steve had been acting weird lately. He was always busy, always had an excuse as to why he couldn’t hang out. But when you did hang out, he was just as warm as ever, and maybe even more so—touching you when it wasn’t really necessary, holding your hand to guide you someplace and just not letting go. It wasn’t strange enough to make you say anything, but it was definitely enough for your mind to wander to various improbable conclusions.
Improbable, until 2am that night, when you were struggling to turn the key into the door to your hotel room, and Steve was behind you, giggling like a little boy. His hands were around your waist and he was holding you close, so close you could feel his heart beating rapidly against your back, and his hot breath was fanning over the shell of your ear; all of this, more than the fact that you were a bit drunk, was enough to make your fingers tremble as you again tried to unlock the door.
Suddenly, he stopped laughing, and went quiet for a few moments before he spoke again.
"Y/N,” he had said, voice just above a whisper. “Stop for a sec.”
You stopped, because you weren’t really getting anywhere with the key anyway.
He placed one hand on either side of your waist and spun you slowly to face him. His pupils were blown and his face was flush with that pink most pale people get when they’re inebriated; Steve especially, as you’d realized throughout your time with him. And he was grinning at you in this enigmatic way. You couldn’t tell what he wanted. You could definitely speculate, but any answer you could come up with would be heavily biased by way of your own desires.
Steve stared blankly at you for a moment before his hands released you, and instead found themselves cradling your face.
“You’re so beautiful,” he muttered, like it wasn’t really for you and kinda just for the universe. But you heard it, of course you did, and all you could do was blink twice and try to figure out what to say.
“Thanks, Stevie. You’re beautiful too,” you finally said, smiling softly up at him. Steve paused and you registered the distance between the two of you—rather, the lack thereof, because you were so close that if you twitched or jerked the wrong way you would end up kissing. And somehow, even though you had spent years telling yourself how gross and wrong it would be to even think about kissing Steve, you wanted to. You really, really wanted to.
Steve was gnawing on his bottom lip, his glossy gaze flickering from your eyes to your mouth and back again, and you suddenly got the message that maybe he too really, really wanted to. And so you took the leap and you kissed him. It felt like he was trying to swallow you whole, like a starved python, wrapping himself around you and pressing himself so close you thought your bodies would merge together. You wouldn’t have minded.
You slipped him the key and he managed to get the door open in about two seconds, which would have wounded your ego were you not too entranced by the way he was still trying to kiss you as you fell into the room. It was violent; teeth clashing lips biting tongues swirling, hands roaming, squeezing, legs tangled. Boundaries crossed and shattered under the weight of pure desire.
And it felt good. For the time being.
Steve may not be the smartest guy in the world, let alone in Hawkins, but he knows when he’s doing something he’s not supposed to. That’s like, toddler level intelligence. And that night, and every night with you afterwards, he felt it. That guilt, that shame, because this was something he wanted with every fiber of his being, but it was something he knew he should not be doing. It had the potential to ruin a friendship he had cherished for so many years. It had the potential to make him lose something he wasn’t sure how to live without. You.
But god, if he didn’t think about you, every second of the day. The way you just melted into his hands, like putty, how easy it was to coax those sweet sounds out of your mouth, as if just his touch was enough for you. He could tell you trusted him, so completely. You trusted him to make you feel good. You trusted him to keep you safe, to never hurt you, because he would never, ever hurt you.
You thought about him too. In conversation you would look him right in the eyes, but be thinking about his hands on your torso, his lips on your neck, his eyes that bore into yours and made you feel like the only person he would ever want in the world.
But you weren’t together. You were just fucking.
This was something you had to make yourself remember from time to time. By the end of July, time to time became every time you saw Steve. You had no clue what he thought about the whole situation—you never really had a conversation about it, and you were too scared to bring it up. It might disrupt the very delicate nature of whatever the two of you had going on, and you weren’t ready for it to end just yet.
Steve wasn’t ready either. He liked what you had now, because you were able to act like best friends and treat one another just the same way you had been before, but later, when nobody was around, you kissed and you held him and it felt just like it had the first time. At some point, he started dreaming not just about your body, but just you.
He started thinking about you, and your friendship. The years you had spent together. How he felt when you weren’t around, when he couldn’t call on you. And Steve realized, to his horror, he was in love with you. Maybe it should’ve made him happy, but instead it just filled him with fear. He had gotten the two of you wrapped up by something that was threatening to squeeze the life out of him, but he didn’t want to let go.
“I feel like this is not gonna end well.”
Steve sighs to himself and rubs his hands over his face. The store is empty except for himself and Robin, who has just finally worn him down on whatever the hell has been going on between himself and Y/N. On one hand it feels good to get it off his chest, but on the other he’s not sure if he’s ready to submit himself to the endless barrage of questions he knows will be coming soon.
“Yeah. I don’t think it will either,” he confesses, holding his head in his hands as he leans his elbows onto the cashier counter. “But I just can’t stop.”
Robin scoffs. “I mean, I guess it makes sense. The sexual tension between you guys has been a lot worse these past months.”
"Worse? So there was... tension, in the first place?”
Steve feels like an idiot when he finally looks up to see Robin staring at him incredulously. Usually, they’re stupid together, but at this moment he feels like a kid whose mother is trying to explain some complex science. “Yes, idiot. They’re practically in love with you. You should just tell them how you feel. You guys are making me sick.”
His chest is hurting a bit—every time he’s thought about them this week, he’s felt like his ribs are closing in on his heart. Maybe he should get that checked out. “They aren’t in love with me. We’re just... you know.”
“Fucking?”
Steve winces at the vulgarity of the term. “Yeah. That.”
“That doesn’t mean they’re not in love with you. Maybe they’re not saying anything ‘cause they’re afraid you don’t feel the same way.”
The little bell above the front door rings and in comes some guy and his gaggle of middle school friends. Steve sighs and stands up straight as they begin thumbing through the horror section.
“That would certainly be ironic.”
A week later, you’re on the phone with your older sister, who’s away at college. You’ve been talking about Steve for 15 minutes without actually having said his name—your sister of course knows who he is, because she was forced to witness your shenanigans together before she left. It’s not that you don’t trust her, but you’d rather not have to deal with the questions you know she’ll ask if she knows that this person you’re talking about sleeping with is Steve Harrington.
“Hey, don’t kill me if I’m wrong... but are you talking about Steve? Like Steve, your best friend since elementary school?”
Well, so much for that. Fuck.
You hesitate for a moment, but that’s all she needs as a confirmation. “Oh shit. You’re sleeping with Steve. Jesus, Y/N.”
“Yeah,” you breath, squeezing your eyes shut. “I know. Bad idea.”
She’s quiet for a moment before you hear her take a deep breath. “You’ve been head over heels for this guy for so long. Why would you do that to yourself?”
The way she’s phrasing it makes you feel really stupid and pathetic, but you know she’s right. Why would you do that to yourself? You’re just making yourself suffer, and for what? Because he fucks good? It is really good, and you’ve never had anyone make you feel that way before, but you could probably find someone else. You could’ve found someone else. Yet, you submitted yourself to Steve just like that and now you’re in a mess of shit.
“I don’t know. I guess I just... he initiated, you know? And it felt really good for him to want me the way I’ve wanted him for who knows how fucking long. So I just fell for it. It was dumb, I know. I feel like an idiot already, you don’t have to tell me.”
Your sister hums to herself, as she does often when she’s thinking.
“It was dumb. But I’m sort of glad you went for it, because if you didn’t, you would just be stuck pining after him forever, you know? At least now, you have something to go off of. I say you tell him how you feel. And if he doesn’t feel the same, fuck him. Not literally, of course. You’re already doing that.”
The way she said it, it all seemed so simple. Frankly, it all could be that simple. But she just didn’t get it. How could she? You couldn’t lose Steve, you just couldn’t. He had been by your side so long that imagining life without him made your heart shrivel up and fall to pieces like a dying rose.
“Yeah. You’re right. I’ll tell him.”
“Not very convincing. But you do you, alright? If you need to talk again, I’m always available. Between 3 and 7pm on weekdays. Not at all on the weekends. But, you know. You have mom.”
“Ha ha. Very funny.”
Another week passes and neither of you reach out to the other. You’re beginning to feel like this is it, this is the end of whatever you’ve been doing, possibly the end of your friendship, too. It’s making you so anxious that you can barely sleep at night; all you do is imagine all your memories with him, and wonder if one day when you’re old and grey you’ll forget all about them because you never got to make anymore. You try not to cry about it.
Steve cries about it. At least, he did, just once, but he was sort of high and he was with Robin and just couldn’t stop talking about this one time the two of you skipped school to get ice cream and go see a movie. It was a horror movie, and you held his hand because even though he said he wasn’t afraid, he was afraid, because Steve was still recovering from his second encounter with the Upside Down and the special effects were looking a little too real.
“They were there for me, man. They’ve always been there for me. I can’t fuckin’ lose that, you know?”
Robin inhaled the smoke deeply and blew it out in a ring. She’d been practicing that trick.
“You won’t lose them. They’ll always be there, even if they don’t feel the same way. You can’t just... erase years of friendship. You can’t erase what you guys have.”
Oh yes, you can. Robin knew that, but she didn’t say it, because Steve was already crying and she’s never seen him cry before. It was a little awkward but she managed to keep herself from laughing.
You can’t ignore Steve forever. Spending more than a day without at least seeing him once feels wrong, let alone purposefully avoiding him for seven of them. And then there’s the issue of why he hasn’t called or stopped by or anything. Maybe he’s decided enough is enough. Regardless, you need to tell him how you feel. If it ends badly, oh well. You can always catch the bus out of town. Disappear without a trace, that kind of thing. You’ve kinda always wanted to try it.
On Friday the 13th of August, Steve is standing in the Family Video Store sweating his ass off. The air conditioning broke yesterday; conveniently, this is the second hottest day of the summer, so he’s pretty much miserable at the moment. He’s leaning against the counter waiting for a dad and his daughter to pick between Raiders of the Lost Ark and Wrath of Khan. Personally, he would go for Fast Times, but the customer is always right, anyhow.
The little bell above the front door jingles and he expects it to be Robin coming back from the donut shop with two jelly donuts and an iced coffee, so he doesn’t bother looking. However, when they get close enough, Steve catches a whiff of a very familiar laundry detergent and his heart freezes in his chest.
“Long time no see, Stevie,” you greet, flashing him as genuine a smile as you can. Your stomach is rumbling and you hope he can’t hear it.
When Steve looks up at you, his eyes almost bulge out of their sockets, and your heart drops a little in your chest. He’s really, really not looking happy to see you. You don’t know what you were expecting; you had rationalized his lack of contact with the idea of him being busy, but in truth you should’ve known better. The only time he’s busy is when the town is under attack by paranormal monsters, and as far as you know that’s not the case.
“Y/N, hey. What... um, what’re you doin’ here?” What a fucking stupid thing to say. What are you doing here? Obviously, they’re here to see you, dickweed. Steve does his best to regain his composure and gives you a smile he’s sure looks as awkward as it feels.
“Can we... uh. Can we talk? Outside, maybe? It’s too fucking hot in here.” Not like it’d be any better outside, but you’d rather not be in the store for this. If it goes badly, like you expect it to, at least you’ll have free range to run away.
Steve swallows hard. “Yeah. For sure. Just give me a sec.”
You stand aside and watch as he slides out from behind the cashier counter, approaching the only two customers in the store. He talks to them for a minute or so, clearly weighing two movie options for the man and what looks to be his teenage daughter. The way he smiles at them, you almost forget what you’re here to do, but it’s a little hard to focus when he’s just so... him. Dreamy Steve with the beautiful heart. Your Steve. If you can remember that, maybe you can stop being so anxious.
Steve rings the two up and they exit the store; the minute they do so, the weight of silence is heavy on your shoulders and you slump a little under the pressure. Your attempt at holding a smile has long been forgotten, and now you’re just gnawing on your lip, trying to distract yourself from your frayed nerves.
He’s staring right at you, and you can see his Adam’s Apple bob as he swallows hard. You don’t think you’re gonna make it outside. You decide that you have to do it, right now, or else you’ll never bring yourself to do it again.
“I can’t do this anymore,” you blurt, not really bothering to think carefully about what you want to say. You created a whole script in your head prior, but you’ve gone blank and decide to let your heart take the wheel.
Instead of saying, do what? like you predicted he would, Steve only inhales sharply and says; “Me either.”
He’s looking down at the counter now, and you approach him slowly, so that you’re standing right in front of him.
“It’s not that I don’t... like doing it, with you. I love it. It’s really good. It’s fun. But, fuck, I...” you don’t know how to continue, because he’s brought his eyes up to yours and they’re so brown and glossy and big you think you might just fall into them.
“It’s too weird?” Steve asks, and you feel your heart being chipped away at just a little bit. That’s why he thinks you’re ending it, because it’s too weird? You know that he couldn’t possibly know how you feel, but for some reason it makes you angry, and you feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes.
“Jesus fuck, Steve. No, it’s not because it’s too weird. It’s because I can’t stand it. I can’t stand that all of the sudden, you’re into me, you think I’m hot, and you wanna kiss me, and fuck me, and do all these things, because I’ve wanted that for so long. So. Long.” You would think the bewildered expression on Steve’s face would hinder you, but it just fuels your ire, and you take a deep breath through your tears.
“And I think the worst part isn’t that you never wanted me the way I always wanted you. The worst part is that even though you might think you do now, you still don’t. So, the reason I can’t do this anymore is because it hurts. It really fucking hurts.”
You’re out of breath now, and you’re sure your face is red. You thank god Robin’s not here because if she suddenly popped out of the break room you probably would’ve passed out on the spot. In fact, you might just do it now. Steve’s shocked expression falls and is replaced by one that makes your heart feel too big in your chest. He looks sad. He rarely looks sad. Your anger is simmering into a quiet aching.
“How... how do you want me? What do you want from me?” Steve’s voice is just above a whisper. You can tell he doesn’t mean it in that way, but you take it that way anyhow. You choke quietly on your own tears and furiously wipe your eyes on your sleeve.
“Fuck, Steve, I don’t want anything from you. I just love you. I have, for so long. And I wish maybe you could love me back in that way, but I know you can’t. So I’m ending this, whatever it was.” I’m ending us. Our friendship. Everything we had, reduced to one tough conversation and a summer fling that felt like it lasted a lifetime.
You don’t say that, but you can see Steve hears it anyway. His eyebrows upturn and he looks a beached whale, so far from home but just in its reach. You want to turn and run, but not because you’re scared, but because you don’t have anything else to say. What else is there to say? You’ve finally fished your deepest secret from the depths of your heart’s ocean, and now you feel empty.
You inhale and turn around.
“Y/N, please, don’t—shit, I.. give me a minute.”
You don’t continue walking, but you don’t face him again.
“Just let me say something, and then you can go if you really want to.”
A few seconds pass and you hug yourself, hoping that if you squeeze tight enough you’ll fold into yourself and escape this horrible, horrible feeling. Escape this moment.
“Can you... you know. Turn around? Please?”
This better be fucking good.
You abide by his request and spin to face him slowly. His face is red; is he blushing, angry, nervous? You can’t tell. His eyebrows are furrowed, so maybe he’s angry, but you feel as if he’s just very focused on what he’s about to say. Rarely does Steve do anything with his eyebrows when he’s mad. That’s the worst thing about it—there’s never an expression on his face.
“Do you remember the first time we.. you know. In that shitty hotel?”
You nod slowly, hoping he has an actual point to this and he’s not just stalling for time.
“When we woke up the next morning, and you were all cuddled up next to me, I got this really bad feeling in my stomach. Like I was not supposed to be doing this, like I had gone off path or something and I was in the wrong neighborhood. But I didn’t wanna wake you up, so I didn’t freak out or anything. I tried to go back to sleep, but not before I looked at you, just to make sure it was actually you, and I wasn’t losing my mind.”
You sniffle and sigh. “How the fuck is this supposed to make me feel better?”
Steve winces. “I’m getting to it, I promise. Just bear with me.”
He moves toward the exit from behind the counter to right in front of you. You try to ignore the proximity, and focus on the wall behind him. It’s a little hard, since you can tell he’s looking you right in the eyes, but you manage.
“When I looked at you, this really weird thing happened. All the bad stuff I was feeling, all the nerves and the fear and all that, went away. And there was just you and me and the sun coming into through the window, and the sound of you breathing. It was... good. It felt really good. It felt like I was in the right place. And that feeling... well, it hasn’t gone away. It’s actually gotten worse.”
Steve pauses. Like he’s waiting for you to say something. You won’t, because you don’t know what the hell he wants you to say, let alone what he’s saying.
“Steve,” you say, finally meeting his gaze. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because,” he breaths. You're so close you can hear the sound of him swallowing. It’s loud and you bet his mouth is really dry right now. “I don’t know how else to tell you how I feel.”
Your heart stops. “...how you feel?”
“Yeah. How I feel. About you, about us, about everything. I don’t know how else to... to phrase it.”
“Try. I’ll wait,” you say, and a little smile creeps its way onto your face. Hope, instead of fear and anger and sadness, bubbles up into your chest, eradicating all the bad feelings like bug repellent. You watch him as he registers your request, and his eyes never leave yours.
He takes your hands. You can feel that they’re clammy and hope he doesn’t feel how shaky yours are. “I don’t regret what we did. I don’t want to stop. But I don’t want... just that. I want you. I want you in every way. In any way you’ll have me.”
A silence sets over the store. Steve finally breaks eye contact and you can feel his rapid pulse on your finger, which rests on his wrist.
“Does that make sense?” he asks, his voice wavering ever so slightly.
“Yeah,” you smile, and let go of his hand to rest your own on his cheek, to make him look at you again. “I understand.”
Steve smiles back, and then it breaks out into a face-splitting grin, and a little sigh of relief escapes him. He looks so cute, like a child on Christmas morning, staring right at their favorite gift.
“You understand,” he repeats. And then he finally breaks the ice and envelops you in his arms, holding you so tight that you’re sure you’re going to melt into him. You always do.
“I’m sorry.” Steve’s voice is muffled by your skin because he’s shoved his face into your neck. You feel his mouth moving against you.
“I know. I’m sorry too.” You’re not even sure what you’re apologizing for, but it feels right to say it in the moment.
You hold each other like for a while. You’re still crying, but not because you’re really sad or even because you’re really happy—though, the latter still applies. It just keeps coming out. So when Steve finally pulls away from you, he cradles your face in his hands and his thumbs wipe your tears, slightly calloused but still sort of soft. They move slow and you stare into his eyes the whole time, and your cheeks hurt because of how hard you’re smiling.
“Can I kiss you?” Steve asks, timidly, like you’re going to say no.
“Yeah. You can.”
And somehow, even though you’ve kissed many times before, it feels different this time. It’s not violent, it’s not raw, it’s not even that passionate, but it’s real. It makes your stomach fill with warmth and your skin tingle in the places where it meets his. In this kiss, Steve is trying to pour all the words he can’t say, and you hear them. You hear them in the way he chases you when you pull away, in the dreamy look in his eyes as he studies your face.
“So... this means we can keep sleeping together, right?”
Your smile falls and you hit him on the shoulder, but he just laughs and kisses you again, this time more of a peck.
“Kidding. Sorry. Not funny.” Obviously, he thinks it’s funny. And you think it’s a little funny too, but you can’t let him know that.
“Take me out to dinner first. Then we can discuss the... other stuff.” Your heart flutters at the way his grin grows at your words.
Working as Ms. Kelly’s TA and having to stay late one night, you run into Dustin, Max, Lucas, and one of your closest friends, Steve. Revelations come to light and feelings are revealed.
Truth Detector ~ 2.7K
After getting drugged with truth serum by the Russians, you, Steve, and Robin don’t feel good and have to race to the bathroom to expel the drug’s contents. In order to test whether it’s all gone, questions are asked, and love is in the air.
Dangerous Waters ~ 3.8K
Hunting down a portal that Vecna had caused wasn’t your idea of a fun night and it most definitely didn’t help that you and your boyfriend, Steve Harrington, are at odds because of a previous argument. However, all of that gets put aside when Steve gets dragged underwater and is put in the direct line of danger.
Frost Kisses ~ 3.4K
Having to be a chaperone for the Snow Ball was not in your evening plans, not at all. However, as you’re greeting the middle schoolers and making sure they get in safely, you run into Steve Harrington, your best friend, dropping off Dustin. It’s cold and icy everywhere, but thankfully, Steve is there to lend a helping hand.
