Okay... So, I Remembered Everything About The Season One Of The Umbrella Academy And My Boyfriend Was

At six o'clock Steve stares at you from the misted window as you untie the ribbon on your apron, take it off and disappear into the back of the shop. He knows you're tired and you just want to go home. He knows it, because it's the first thing you always said to him after the shift, in another life: before Vecna, before the war, before you forgot about him forever. 

I didn't expect it. Omg. You shattered my heart from this paragraph onwards. 😭😭

And the ending 😭🤌

Remember Me- Steve Harrington

Summary: Every morning Steve shows up at the coffee shop you work in and every morning you hope is the one where the cute stranger will finally talk to you. But it never happens and maybe you don't really need it. Yet, while you wait at the tables with a smile, you can't help but wonder why you feel like you've known him all your life.

Words count: 3.8k

Tags: Fluff and Angst. Post-season4 Steve Harrington / Post War/ Mentions of major character death.

Y/n smells like coffee and lemons. A strange mix that Steve still doesn't know whether its good or not. You move around the shop with a circumstantial smile on your face, a tray in your hands and a green apron used as an impassable wall against the rest of the world, your armor.

Yet you can't take your eyes off that customer, who oders American coffee every morning and sit at the table furthest from people. Sometimes he brings a curly-haired boy with him, other times there's a beautiful girl with big blue eyes - perhaps his girlfriend, perhaps a friend - and with them he smiles slightly more. But he is often alone and clarly wants to be.

You're sorry for that. You don't even know why, you have so much else to think about. You moved in the USA just a few years ago, from your  country you ended up in the middle of nowhere, in Indiana, and when you  arrived you discovered that this place is not as safe and boring as you believed. Strange deaths, accidents, earthquakes, natural disasters like it has been cursed and to be honest you have the feeling of having lost a good part of the time spent here. Now, apart from the fact that this place sucks, you should think about having fun, hanging out with boys, trying to make friends like your aunt says, but you don't. You go home at night and think of a sad stranger and you don't want to, you really don't want to but you do. Silly girl.

"What can I get you sir?" you ask, like every day. When he's alone he usually doesn't reply, he mumbles something under his mouth, looks into your eyes and points his finger at his choice. The menu next to the paper napkins is his voice and you like to listen to it.

"I'll bring it to you right away." There are no smiles between you, even if you would like to. Sometimes you've found yourself wanting a simple "thank you" said properly, not half-mouthed or in a whisper. Yet there's kindness even in the way he moves, the way he isolates himself and it's something you can't explain.

When you place the coffee on the table – a breath away from his fingers – he usually just looks at you. His are not eyes to remain indifferent to. It's not the color that makes them  so special, they're big and dark, but it's their depth, the way they seem to be a portal to that boy's soul, the way they peer into you and seem to contain not a shred of malice and seen too much. They look like a child's eyes, actually. They have something pure, sincere, tremendously tender and at the same time they contain the gaze of a veteran and they defeat you. He looks at you and you are chained. But that's okay, you wouldn't have tried to resist anyway.

He looks at you with something that reminds you of sweetness, hints at a half smile - the first - and this alone is enough to burn you inside,  even if it's snowing outside.

The boy doesn't like snow, he's always in a bad mood when it snows. One day you overheard him talking about it with his friend Dustin, Dexter, something like that. 

"Everytime I fear he is coming back"

"He can't, you know it . We made sure it can't happen again"

"Yes, but at what coast?" and his voice had broken in a yearning way, on the last syllable, like a raging river that you thought you would see burst. When you turned to look at him not a single emotion had appeared on his face. You would like to know what happened to him.

Everyday you look away from him when you realize you've spent too much time staring at him and walk away, ignoring the abandoned baconnotes on the table, silent like him. You feel stupid, a high school girl staring at the mysterious lonely boy. It's ironic and you don't know it yet, but there was a time Steve Harrington was the opposite of mysterious and lonely.

This morning it's different and you don't run away. You linger a moment too long on the marks that can be glimpsed from his shirt, scars on his neck that seem to continue under the fabric of his shirt for who knows how long. You've already noticed some small signs, but usually he's very careful to cover them. Today they are redder and more visible. You notice more scars, these never seen before, on his arms and you realize only now that he has cut his hair and when he moves them you notice and old wound on the left side of his face. 

If he wasn't around your age you'd really think he's a war veteran. You wonder what he must have been through and you don't notice his hand extended towards the cup, which meets yours. For the first time, you feel the contact with his skin, a silent echo of an unexpressed desire. You know nothing about him, barely his name. "Steve" You've heard from his friends. You know nothing of his life; still for an instant you dream of being part of it with all the monsters he must have fought to hurt himself like this. You talk with your eyes for as long as you stay close: you with a silent voice full of questions, he with a single answer. And it's always the same.

To each request, he reacts by moving his fingers, running along your palm and thumb, making red-hot marks that only you can see. You feel them, like burns on your skin, as if you are no longer in the cafeteria, surrounded by people, but in a private place, where every gesture, every touch acquires meaning. And there's no need for him to say anything, you know that today he wanted you to see his scars, he wanted to understand how you would react, he wanted you to see him for real. And you do it, you really see him, and you don't get scared. You never could. You don't know why. 

«Y/n please, could you bring me more coffee?»Another guy asks. He is just another is a customer, an ordinary, common one. Not like him. Just a guy who shows up often, asking you for coffee and smiles. And you're willing to give it to him, you're willing to pretend with the others but not with Steve, with him you only smile when you really want to and it's absurd that in his presence this happens more or less always. 

"Sure! " Breaking contact  with Steve seems more tiring than studying for the last exam, more painful than finding out you didn't pass it. You feel yourself blush as you bow your head and flutter your eyelashes, tucking the tray under your arm. Sorry, you say in one last look, ready to leave him. But he grabs your wrist with the delicacy that distinguishes him, making you turn around again. Blush again.

"I'm Steve." I know, you would like to answer however you avoid doing that. It's the first time you can hear his voice right, with words articulated slowly, fearlessly, spoken for you and you alone .

«Y/n.»

Steve runs his thumb along the inside of the wrist before letting you go, in an almost automatic gesture that he seems to regret immediately. A Last, anxious caress, which reveals what his eyes have always hidden.

"I know"

These words are the most exciting thing you've heard in a while. Suddenly you understand why Steve comes in every day, stealing a look and a few minutes of your life. Or so you believe. You feel a shiver running down your back, turning into a burning caress - the one you would like from him - and going up your spine, up to your ears. It's hope. 

You don't know how or why, you feel as if you already know him, as if in another life your skin has touched nothing but his, and you don't even believe in these things. Maybe he feels the same, the same overwhelming nostalgia for something you haven't even experienced. You hope you're right, you hope he comes here every day  just to see you, to search for a contact that happened by chance - by mistake - and to show you his tormented gaze of him, looking for the peace that he has lost in you. 

«I'll bring you some coffee» You say to another customer, looking at him without seeing him.

I have to talk to Steve. I can't let him go. Not like that. You hurry to get the hot container of coffee and reach the customer's table, dedicating a smile and a moment of your life to him. A moment that he could have, or should have, dedicated to someone else.  "Are you on duty again tonight?" You almost don't hear the question, taken as you are from another table, another customer, one different from the others. Your mind is only on Steve. "Yes," you say, glancing at Steve to make sure he's still there. He is. You suddenly feel calmer. "But only until six."

"It's already dark at six" the boy observes. "I could take you home..."

"There's really no need to, thanks." You walk up to the counter to put the container away. You hear the doorbell ring, and feel the brutal urge to turn around. 

Steve's table is now empty.

*

At six o'clock Steve stares at you from the misted window as you untie the ribbon on your apron, take it off and disappear into the back of the shop. He knows you're tired and you just want to go home. He knows it, because it's the first thing you always said to him after the shift, in another life: before Vecna, before the war, before you forgot about him forever. 

You put on your coat, gloves and wool cap, and say goodbye to your colleague. "See you tomorrow." You pull the scarf up on your chin as you open the door.  

After the war with Vecna and the disappearance of the Upside Down, even the climate has changed. The ice covers the streets, leaving just two gray trails to show the asphalt. There are very few cars parked outside the cafeteria, a badly parked red BMW stands out, it's the only one not covered in snow. Steve smiles seeing you, he holds back from calling you, enjoying the image: a colored spot in the whiteness of winter. You puff. It's cold, and you have to walk home, your high boots sinking into the white blanket, the houses still to be rebuilt across the street are the only sign of the drama Hawkins has experienced. An earthquake so strong that it has destroyed everything. You have been hurt, a head injury big enough to steal a piece of your life. A piece so important that you're only retrieving the fragments of your life here, tales of your aunt, your friends, which for some reason never seem to fit right together 

"Hey." A male voice calls you. You keep moving forward. It is not the first time that some stranger tries to approach you .

«Y/n.» You turn around, you see him and suddenly the snow and the cold disappear and the world is a warm and beautiful place. Steve. "Hello, y/n." You take a step towards him and stop, as if you've dared too much. "What are you doing out here?"

 With this wheater. You think you know the answer. And you hope to hear it from him.

"I'm here for you" Would be the sweetest music. But Steve shrugs, makes an embarrassed noise, pulling his jacket around him. You seem to notice a redness on his cheeck, you wonder if it's not just the cold. "What does it mean?" You ask, letting out a smile, tossing your tied hair. Steve's eyes catch yours, in a silent response that seems to be enough for you. For a moment everything is as before for Steve, you are only you and he is only him and in your eyes he finds the girl he fell in love with during a war that you shouldn't have had to fight. 

You arrived like lightning a year ago alongside the only friend you managed to make in the city at that time: Eddie Munson, and you were the first -together with Dustin- to try to prove his innocence, with all that this entailed: including demobats, Upside Down and Vecna. Now you don't remember anything, and maybe a little part of Steve is happy you don't have to carry the trauma with you, but you don't remember the good things either. You don't remember Eddie. When you look at his old posters or find his photos on the newspapers, to you he is just the killer who terrorized the city and you don't mourn his death. But you did it, you did it until you lost your breath, screaming at the top of your throat in the middle of the darkest night. Steve had to drag you from his  body by force, against your punches and kicks. You melted into his embrace, you vented the pain with such force that he feared your bones might break from the powerful sobs that shook you. Steve lulled you into a tormented sleep and watched over you. And then there was Max. The list of fallen soldiers got longer. Murray.Hopper, again. Will.

And Robin, oh, Rob. 

You were the only thing keeping Steve alive after that. When his best friend fell into his arms, Steve wanted to die and for a moment he stood still, ready to let himself be taken by the same cursed monster that stole Robin from him. But you were there and you needed him, he had to keep you alive. He had to think about Dustin.

Then he lost you too. In a different, unexpected way. When Vecna took you, he thought you were going to die, because the music wasn't playing and you were floating in the air and he, he looked away, like a coward, he gave up. He decided he didn't want to see you die, not like that. He regrets it every day. All he did was prepare to grab your lifeless body, imagining that he would be the next one to die. He couldn't live in a world without Robin.

 But in a world without Robin where he didn't even have you, it was torture, hell. The world was shaking again and the earth was cracking  and Steve desperately wanted to die. But you fell into his arms still alive and breathing and Eleven had killed Vecna and all you had were broken bones and a head injury from the pressure exerted by that monster. Steve didn't know it at the time, but you also had a brain injury, something strong enough to erase everything from the last three years. Everyithing about him. Your family, despite being aware of the situation, has decided not to tell you anything, to keep you away from them, from Steve.

 After all if it wasn't for them you wouldn't have been involved. Also Steve promised to protect you and he didn't. He had failed you , as he did with Robin.

Dustin has kept him alive, keeping him company in the months of solitude spent locked up in his house. Nance forced him to eat every day and Erica, Erica remained silent next to him for hours and that was enough at least for a while. Then, at a certain point, Steve saw you from the shop windows, you were working, smiling. 

And it wasn't enough anymore.

The sky is black, the streetlights barely lit up the street, yet you can understand more about Steve right now, looking at his face wrapped in half-light, than you ever guessed during these endless mornings. «Y/n» your colleague opens the door, investing you with warmth and light, so much so that you lower your eyelids.

"Sorry... I saw you out here. I just wanted to let you know that I'll come early tomorrow so you can go home early." You nod as the door closes. When you turn to Steve, you find him closer than when you last looked at him. You see his breath condense between you and join yours. Heat mingling with heat, and desire meeting desire. Steve nods at the BMW.

"I... I didn't mean to scare you, I just... I can take you home if you want." 

There is a fire inside you, even if you can't explain why. You should be scared of an unknown guy who comes to your workplace every morning and now silently approaches you to offer you a ride home on a dark winter afternoon, but the truth is that Steve makes you feel so many things and fear it's not one of them. You think that this is his car, that the car says so much about people, that you want to see what he keeps inside it, the objects that are important to him. There is probably his scent inside it. 

Steve smells good, clean.You know, you just don't know why.  "That is fine." 

"Steve, can I... Can I ask you a question?" You ask after a few steps in silence. He nods, keeps walking, his arm against yours looking for even the slightest contact. He needs it, or else he'll sink. He needs it to keep himself on his feet when dark comes and in the streets he sees the faces of his dead appear. When your bodies touch, over layers of fabric, you feel your skin melt and you wonder if maybe you're crazy. "Why me?"It's a strange question, you know, you're a little ashamed of it, and you're afraid of scaring him but you feel, somewhere inside you, that maybe he has the answer you were looking for, the missing piece in your story. Or maybe it's just an illusion. He turns around, his gaze softens and he observes you like the answer is the most obvious thing in the world. Because there is no other girl.

 He doesn't say it, he can't. He doesn't want to mess with you, he doesn't want to lose you again and scare you. 

"You know y/n, I've never met a waitress as good as you." 

You laugh, putting a hand over your mouth. "You're an easy guy to get Steve Harrington"

He opens his eyes wide and you don't realize it but is'shere, clear, limpid: Steve has never said his surname. You don't notice, not really. You keep walking beside him. "Thanks," you whisper as you let your arm slide, intertwining it with his. What would it be like to really feel his skin? 

Warm. Rough in the points furrowed by scars, soft in the rest of the body. To Feel the sensation of  naked flesh on your lips, the scent of laundry, the saltiness of his body, the pulse of the vein on his neck, where you place a kiss that isn't there, never was. It's a fantasy that looks a lot like a memory. It scares you. "Let's go." He exhorts you, with shyness and a touch of fear his hand moves to your back and your body is warm under his gaze. His breath is against his cheek, slips under the scarf, up to your neck."Yes" he says, holding his breath. It's cold, but not that much, not now, not for you. Not when you feel Steve's nose against your ear, not when he notices your twitch too. Steve closes his eyes, tries to refrain from telling you everything, from holding you tightly to him, it's so difficult now that he has you close again to resist, to keep a distance that hurts and he doesn't want. "Are you cold?" Steve asks  in a low voice, but for you this question is so much like the caress you've been craving since you became aware of his presence in the shop, since you met his gaze."Not at all'."

You feel Steve's smile on your cheek and you feel like you're. You just turn your head, just to give him the opportunity to reach your lips, but Steve doesn't kiss you, he's still with his eyes closed and who knows what he thinks of you, looking for a kiss from someone you don't even know

."You smell like coffee." The words are an incandescent breath on the mouth. His breath join yours,  you can feel the the taste of him – mint and aftershave – before you even smell it, like you've never tasted anything else in your life. 

"You don't like it?" Thrill after thrill, waiting to discover something about him that you don't know yet. Everything, you have to find out everything, but it seems to you that you have known him for a lifetime."I love coffee" You know he is lying. You just know. But you don't care. Just one question goes through your head and in order not to give it a voice you decide to shut your mouth in the best possible way at the moment. You shiver a little when your lips are close to him. You trace his cheek slowly with your lips, waiting for the moment when he pulls back and tells you you're crazy. You look for the right way to kiss him. 

"I don't usually do that. You must have something very special" You whisper against him. And Steve can't take it anymore, like a dam that breaks its banks, he pushes you completely against him, as if you were one. And then, finally, he finds his way. When he kisses you – slowly at first, giving your lips time to get to know each other; then devouring your every thought, as if nothing else exist but you – you find yourself repeating to yourself that you don't want to kiss anyone anymore. Touch no one anymore. Let anyone kiss and touch you except from Steve. 

"Steve" You murmur breathlessly, pulling away from him. "Would you think I'm crazy if I tell you something?"He shakes his head, his lips swollen and beautifully red. "Never"

"I knew you before, didn't I?" Now Steve Harrington no longer has the strength to lie.Steve Harrington has come to get his girl back and far off in the dark of night he swears he can see Robin Buckley smiling at him for it.

Roger is so precious! His voice is just awesome!

17 years old Roger Taylor singing I Feel Good in 1966 🤩

Ugh, I want my boyfriend to drive to see me so we can go home together 😫😫

Steve is the best! Loved the story. ❤️🥰

Make It Back for Christmas (Steve Harrington x Reader)

Make It Back for Christmas (Rated T)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader (gender neutral)

Word Count: 1.9k+

Warnings: Mild brief language, holiday fluff, pining Steve and Reader

Summary: It's the last week of the semester and you're dying to head back home to Hawkins for the holiday festivities. Not only that, but you haven't heard from your boyfriend in a week and you're already going through withdrawals. Will you be able to make it back in time for Christmas?

God, you hated finals week. 

This wasn’t like anything you experienced in your high school years. Or was it? Thanks to the last semester of all-nighters and unbelievable amounts of cram studying, the last four years all blended together. 

Three exams. You had three exams this week. Plus a term paper, a research project… one of your professors thought it would be fun to have an exam and a nine-page paper due the same week. Was it nine pages single-spaced or double? Hell if you knew. Your brain had already begun to hurt just thinking about everything you did to army-crawl your way through to break. Even though most of the hard work was done, you weren’t out of the clear yet— you still had a five hour drive home on Saturday and you hadn't packed yet. 

You just had to select a college five hours away. You hated being away from your home of small town Hawkins, Indiana. You missed your family, your friends. Some nights there was nothing you wanted more than to spend a few hours at the local arcade or the neighboring video store. 

The only thing that made everything seem a bit more bearable was your boyfriend. Usually, Steve would be the first one you would call and talk to after your latest exam or assignment, but you haven’t been able to reach him in days. The two of you had gotten together the summer before you left for college. It was a sweet summer romance story. You had known each other for years, practically growing up together. It was the typical cliche: two friends who had been skirting around their feelings throughout high school, mainly due to one garnering a reputation. 

Although, when you were with Steve, that’s all he was: Steve. Not overly cocky King Steve, not party keg master Steve; he was Steve Harrington, your best friend since preschool who always stole your peanut butter and jelly sandwiches because you hated them. The same Steve who would sit with you for hours in the backyard watching the clouds or the stars, listening to you talk about your superficial problems like they were an international threat of war. The Steve who was so terrified going out on his first date with Samantha Hollis in the sixth grade, he spent most of the morning excessively brushing his hair and gargling mouthwash in your bathroom while talking about his big first kiss plan — a conversation that later had your stomach turning and your dinner in the upstairs toilet. You hadn’t realized it at first, but you had fallen head over heels for your best friend. 

When you finally recognized and came to terms with your feelings for Steve in junior year, it had been too late. He had already started his “perfect” relationship with his dream girl: Nancy Wheeler. You had no malice toward the girl. In fact, you were both good friends. It was just hard to maintain that friendship when all the conversations ever gravitated toward was, well, your shared connection. 

“Steve and I were going to see that movie!”

“Oh, you’ll never believe what Steve said the other night.”

“Oh my god, isn’t he so clumsy? It’s adorable.”

Forced smiles and friendly nods became second nature for you. All you wanted was for Steve to be happy. If he was happy with Nancy, then you were happy for him. You had to admit they made an attractive couple. She was helping him in ways you never could, helping him succeed instead of just encouraging him to try and make a change. They were an unstoppable team. Steve didn’t need you anymore and you had to come to terms with it. You slowly began to distance yourself, just so you could sort through your feelings and not be awkward around them. It made things easier at first. 

Then Nancy broke his heart at Tina’s halloween bash. Suddenly you found yourself thrust back and immersed into Steve’s life once more. Only this time, you leaned into his touches a little more than usual. You two sat a bit too close at movie night. You split too many meals at the local diner. It was only when Dustin Henderson made a passing comment about how the two of you acted like an old married couple did you snap back to reality and attempt to distance yourself from Steve again. He didn’t need to lose the love of his life and another friend at the same time because you couldn’t keep your feelings in check. So you resorted to only hang around him with the kids when he needed to play carpool, taking them to the arcade, or the farmer’s market, or even the grocery store to pick up 

This only seemed to confuse your best friend. “Why aren’t you spending time with me?” he asked you when you brought El and Max to the mall over the summer. 

“What are you talking about?” you tried to appear nonchalant, like you weren’t doing this on purpose even if it killed you. Unfortunately, your poker face needed some much needed work. 

“No, no,” the look he gave you that day would haunt you forever. Steve looked like you had just kicked his puppy right in front of him. “Don’t bullshit me. You’ve been avoiding me all summer since we graduated. The only time I ever see you is with the kids and even then you spend more time with Dustin than me!”

It was true. After Dustin had oh-so-kindly exposed your emotions, you had somehow convinced the child to be your partner in distracting you from Steve. Well, it was less of a convincing and more of a “if you breathe a word of this to anyone, I’ll lovingly end you” type of agreement. He stuck to you like Velcro when the three of you went out, making sure there were very few interactions that could lead into moments of longing. 

“It’s nothing, Steve,” you had tried explaining with no success. “Dustin just really wants my attention is all, I guess.” 

A frown on his face, Steve turned away mumbling something under his breath. You weren’t quite sure at the time, but it did sound oddly similar to, “he’s not the only one.”

It wasn’t until you found yourselves trapped in a Russian underground that you had to face more than one fear. Trapped in your own room, the soldiers tried to get you to admit how you found their base. They had even stabbed you with some type of drug, which you would only later discover its use. You couldn’t tell how long it was before you were released with the help of your best friend. Steve had looked so worse for wear, but even in the chaos, he was only concerned about your safety and well-being. 

“Are you okay?!” his slurred speech inquired as he ran hands up and down your arms before cradling your face. 

You weren’t sure if it was the stress or the inclusion of a truth serum in your system, but you did the only thing you could think of to answer his incessant questions: you leaned forward and kissed him. 

And he kissed you back. 

From that moment on, everything was different. You had gone from being best friends, to two people who went out to dinner, to being in an honest to goodness relationship. Just over a year later, you’re sat in your dorm room with a receiver broadcasting a busy signal in your ear. 

This was the sixth time this week Steve hadn’t answered the phone. He hadn’t called for his daily good morning or good nights. He didn’t call to check in on you during what he knew was going to be a stressful week. Concerned about his safety, you reached out to Dustin several times, who assured you that Steve was fine. He was just busy with all of the families renting out movies for the holidays. You knew you weren’t entitled to his time, but all the same…it had been a long week and all you wanted was to hear your boyfriend’s voice. 

Allowing a sigh to escape your lips, you dialed Steve’s number again, this time with the intent to leave a message. When the recording of his mother’s bored yet powerful voice played, you bit your lip to refrain from showing too much emotion over the phone. “Hey Steve,” you started. “It’s uh, it’s me calling…again. I just wanted to let you know that I, uh, that I miss you. Miss hearing your voice, seeing you. And I hope that you’re doing okay. Just a few more days until I can start my drive home and see you!” 

You let out a sad chuckle as there was a knock on your bedroom door. Your roommate, Allie, probably wanted to use the phone since you’d been hogging it for a few hours. “Oh, I gotta go. Call me back soon, okay? Love you.” As you hung up the phone, you moved to open the door. “Sorry, Allie. Just wanted to make sure-“

“Make sure I was doing okay?” A familiar voice cut you off and your breath caught in your throat.  You couldn’t believe it. Standing in front of you with rosy frost bitten cheeks, tired eyes, and the brightest smile you’ve ever seen was Steve. “I’d say I’m doing much better now that I’ve seen you, sweetheart.”

Without much thought, you ran into his arms and kissed him. And kissed him. And kissed him one more time, just for good measure. It was messy, all smiles and awkward breathing, but it was perfect. “What-“ you stuttered in surprise once you caught your breath. “What are you doing here? Why haven't you called?!”

Steve grinned sheepishly, head bent down to stare right in your gaze. A few strands of his perfectly unruly dark hair fell directly in his line of sight and you automatically moved your hand to brush it away. “I knew if I picked up the phone it would be really hard for me to keep my mouth shut. Did you really think I’d let my baby drive home alone for Christmas?” he said with mock disdain. “I don’t think that would make me a very good boyfriend, do you?”

“I have a car.”

“Yeah,” your boyfriend nodded in agreement, “but why waste gas if you’re not going to use it in Hawkins.” 

You frowned. What was he talking about? 

“Baby, you’re with the Harrington car service,” Steve’s smooth voice rolled over you like honey. “It’s door-to-door service, even during your trip.”

“….so you’re kidnapping me and not letting me drive my own car.” 

Steve gave a small huff, shoulders slouched. “Gee, when you put it like that…you really sucked the romance out of it, babe. You know I did just drive five hours-“

You silenced him with a gentle kiss to the lips. While not as rough or as passionate as the first reunion, it was just as loving. Your fingers curled around the soft fabric of his white Henley top and pulled him closer. He stumbled a bit from the action, but soon rested his hands on either of your hips, a low hum vibrating his throat. 

“I love you,” you whispered. 

The smile on Steve’s face stretched out to be a mile wide. “I love you, too, baby,” he replied, pressing a quick kiss to your temple. “Now come on. Let’s get you all packed up.”

You laughed at his dramatic hand gestures before he crossed his way into your room. “Your chariot awaits, my dear,” he mused, turning his head to glance back at you over his shoulder. “It’s time to get you back home for Christmas.”

====================

Author's Note: So this is happening. Is everyone excited?! To say I've been looking forward to this event for the last month plus now. I just want to give a small shout-out and thank you to two very amazing people, @bakerstreethound (for encouraging me to keep writing) and @upsidedownwithsteve (for inspiring me to try my hand at this -- so sorry for the tag!).

Writing this and some of the other fics for this event have me convinced Steve would be the perfect boyfriend around the holidays, even if he may be a bit of Scrooge sometimes. The number of times I've smiled writing these pieces...I've lost count. But stay tuned because we have a lot more headed your way (including some dad!Steve...)!

If you liked this post and want to see more like it on my blog, please make sure to leave a comment and reblog it! While likes are appreciated, it's these two things that really help spread the word about my writing and motivate me to keep making new content! Until next time, my little sparks! <3

UGHHH Just kiss already 😭😭😭😭

They are so cute together and could be the best couple if one of them had the courage to confess 😫😫

Benny and Santiago are so dumb, omg 🥹 They share the only braincell there is.

Cariña- Part 3

Chapter Summary: It’s a normal evening with the guys, until a few things are said that make you think about you and Frankie’s friendship.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Reader

Words: 1500

Chapter Warnings: slight anxiety/worry, Will is a meddler and a comfort at the same time, fluff

Series Masterlist Here!

Feedback fuels me!

A/N: Now we’re getting into the fluff and fun….😘

You had never told Frankie, but you had known for years what all his nicknames meant. The curiosity had been too strong, so you asked a coworker who spoke Spanish. She happily answered, giving you all the definitions and meanings.

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I love a good Paul Lahote's fic 🤩😍

Safe - Paul Lahote

a/n: finished this in a couple hours last night :D

summary: during a winter storm, paul’s car breaks down on the side of the road, at a time in which rampant vampires are running wild

warnings: mentions of anxiety

word count: 1.3k (exactly omg)

It was a stupid idea to begin with. The roads were slowly becoming fully covered with snow, but you two wanted to stay at the lookout for just a little while longer, enjoying the peaceful view and getting away from civilization for a while.

However, it was now dark out, even though it was only six o’clock, and there was no indication of a road in front of you.

“Paul, why don’t we just pull over for now and wait till the morning,” you offer, your anxiety rising as he swerves due to some ice on the road.

“Babe, you really wanna stay in this truck for twelve fucking hours?” He snaps, though not too harsh, it was coming from a place of security and protectiveness.

“I’d rather that than attempt to drive and fall off the fucking road into a ditch,” you reply. Paul glances over at you and right away, he can sense your worry. He sighs softly and carefully maneuvers his beloved truck down the road.

“I’ll try to be as careful as I can, baby, but I want to get back home so you’re not freezing in here.”

“You do realize that you have a super high body temperature that could keep me warm all night?” You joke. Paul laughs along with you and shrugs his shoulders.

“I know, but I don’t-no, no, no no!” He groans as a clicking noise sounds from the truck, the engine giving out just as he pulls onto the side of the ‘road’, thankfully on the side with the wall of rock, so there was no way to skid off the edge and into the forest.

“Fucking shit,” Paul mutters to himself, trying to turn the car on. But it’s no use. The truck was completely broken down, and there was no way to jump start it.

There was most likely no one else out at the moment, so no passing cars could be of help. The pack was away for the night and wouldn’t return until the morning, deterring some new group of vampires that was terrorizing the town.

“Well, good thing we have some leftovers,” you murmur, trying to lighten the mood. Paul glances over at you and smiles, grabbing your hand.

“I’m sorry. We should’ve left earlier,” Paul says, shaking his head and looking down in his lap.

“I also wanted to stay, so it’s just as much my fault as it is yours,” you tell him, hoping it makes him feel better. “But I’m glad that you’re not gonna be driving anymore tonight because it’s really scaring me.”

Paul’s face falls and guilt settles in his chest. He should’ve listened to his instincts when he first felt your nerves arise.

“Baby, I didn’t mean to scare you, it’s…” he tapers off, nervous about telling you his true feelings. However, he’s also cut off by you shivering, the cold temperature outside starting to seep inside.

His protectiveness kicks in and he hops into the backseat, motioning for you to join him. But you are unable to gracefully climb into the back, so you get ready to hop out and just get in through the backseat door, but Paul stops you.

“I don’t want you going out there, even if it’s for a split second,” he begs. You stare at him in disbelief.

“I’m not gonna get frostbitten in two seconds.” The look in Paul’s eyes tells you something else is up, so you sit back in your seat, looking at the space that you have to crawl over.

Finally, you manage to stumble back with Paul, falling into his arms, which wrap around you to make sure you didn’t fall off the seat and onto the floor. Your giggles fill the car and Paul grabs a blanket from the trunk while you get comfortable, picking up the picnic basket and finding something to snack on for now.

Paul throws the blanket around your shoulders for now, you curling into his side, finally relaxing into his body.

“See, this isn’t so bad,” you whisper when you finish your snack. Paul chuckles and kisses your forehead.

“For now. Just wait till it drops to ten degrees later in the night.”

“But at least this gives us more time to talk,” you point out.

“Or make out?” Paul offers. You gaze up at him, finding him smirking down at you. A similar smirk tugs at your lips and your hand trails up to his neck to pull him down to you.

Forty-five minutes go by, and you could already tell the temperature was beginning to drop. But with Paul beside you, it wasn’t a big issue. You end up throwing a second cover over his body, just to lock the heat in so that you could feel it more.

He even slipped his shirt off to allow you to feel his burning skin, which you very much enjoyed.

“Does…does you not wanting me to go out there have to do with that group of vampires?” You ask during a lull in the conversation.

You’ve been stuck for about four hours now, and it was coming to the point where you had no idea what to talk about anymore. So, you decide to bring this up.

“Who told you?” Paul mumbles, upset that the pack secret had gotten out. Sitting up from his chest, you grab his hand.

“Emily. It slipped out and I promised I wouldn’t say anything but-”

“Shh,” he coos, placing a finger on your lips to silence you, “it’s okay. I figured one of the other girls would tell you because the guys tell them everything.”

“Then how come you didn’t say anything to me?”

He pauses and carefully thinks over his words, his mouth falling open and closing as he does.

“I didn’t want to worry you,” he finally says. “I know you had a close call with Victoria, and I didn’t want to frighten you with another set of vampires. I knew the pack would be able to drive them up north, so there wasn’t any real worry, but of course vampires are unexpected, so who knows what would’ve happened.”

“And you were scared that they could be around us and smell me when I stepped out of the car?” You could feel your anxiety rising once again, and this time, Paul senses it immediately.

“Hey, hey,” he whispers, cradling your face in his hands. “Yeah, I was…but again, I didn’t want to scare you. You’re safe with me, like you always are. I promise.” You nod and curl back into his chest, sighing softly.

“Paul?” Your voice rings out in the still air, after a few minutes of nothing.

“Hm?”

“Hold me tighter?” You softly beg. Paul’s heart aches in his chest at the tone of your voice. But, he obeys your wish and tightens his grip, pulling you as close to his body as possible.

“Do you wanna switch positions? Do you want me to spoon you, or is this okay?” He asks. You hum happily, snuggling your face into his neck, a small grin displayed on your lips.

“No, this is perfect. Thank you.” He kisses your head softly and rests his cheek in the spot afterwards.

“Get some rest, alright, baby? I’ll call Emily in the morning for her and Sam to come help once he’s awake.” You nod against his shoulder and shut your eyes, focusing on the heat surrounding you and the feel of his body next to yours.

It always did the trick to get you to sleep, and within minutes, you were out like a light, but Paul stayed awake, keeping a lookout to make sure no one else was around and that you were safe.

Though you knew you were safe with Paul, no matter what.

—

paul lahote taglist: @volturiwolf

Loved it so much. Hope that you continue writing. If you do, can I be tagged, please? 🥰

Sacrifice [Snippet]

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Masterlist

Summary: Y/n Byers and Eddie Munson were killed in the battle. Vecna had claimed their lives and murdered them right in front of their friends’ eyes. They died heroes, saving the town that hated them both. And now, months later, the first Christmas since Hawkins’ destruction had come around. But no one celebrates. Instead, they are entering hell to finally stop Vecna. They were prepared for everything. Or... so they thought…

[i've been working on a new series but i'm really not sure if it will be worth continuing. please feel free to let me know in the comments or in my asks whether or not you would like me to keep going or just to scrap it lmao. but, to be clear, this would involve kas!eddie...]

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: swearing, descriptions of death, mentions of blood, mourning/loss

Sacrifice

[Snippet]

Present Day. North Hawkins.

“Merry Christmas, guys.”

Dustin’s voice calls out into the darkness and they all take in a breath. It was Christmas already?

Nine months. That’s how much time had passed since Hawkins became a town full of monsters. Since the battle, one they had miserably lost, their home had been destroyed by Vecna’s efforts and everything they knew was flipped upside down.

They would have given up. The party would have left when they had the chance, as would have Nancy, Jonathan, Steve and Robin. But they couldn’t leave, not yet.

Dustin remembered that night as if it happened yesterday. It haunted his dreams, danced around in his mind until he felt nothing and everything all at the same time. It consumed him, the thought that he had lost someone.

As he curls up into his sleeping bag, tears slipping down his cheek, his fingers gently brush against the torn fabric wrapped around his wrist, a familiar design tugging at his guilt.

He never even got the chance to take care of those little sheep.

March 1986. The trailer park. Upside Down.

Eddie led there on the ground, body slowly becoming numb to the feeling.

A few nights ago, he would never had imagined that this would be how it ended for him. Hell, he wouldn’t have even begun to thought that he, Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson, would have done anything other than run away. But he didn’t this time.

Even as the blood drained from his body and his vision darkened, he was proud of himself.

You had been the one that always told him he was braver than he thought he was. His love, the girl that fell for even his weirdest characteristics, was the only part of his life he ever saw the meaning of. You were his, and he was yours. You were his reason to live. But, as it turns out, he had many reasons to die.

There was a split second of guilt when he stopped climbing that rope. He knew you’d be furious with him for even thinking about leading the demobats away. But Dustin was right there, calling out to him. And he adored the kid like a little brother he always wanted. And he knew that, even if you were mad at him for it, you’d understand why he did it.

“EDDIE!”

Eddie slowly opens his eyes just as Dustin crouches beside him, tears streaming down his face. He really wished he didn’t have to see this.

“Oh god, Eddie.” Dustin cries and Eddie chokes up blood, unable to meet his eyes.

“Bad, huh?” He attempts a joke, but the light inside him is already fading.

“No, no, no.” Dustin shakes his head, but his voice is thick with fear, “You’re gonna be fine. We just gotta get you to a hospital, okay?”

“Okay.” Eddie breathes out. His eyes finally lock onto Dustin’s and sadness floods in. Eddie knows he’s not going to make it. But he’s already made his peace. He made it as soon as those bats surrounded him.

So, after Dustin attempts to move him, he does the only thing he can. He smiles.

“I didn’t run away this time, right?”

Dustin lets out a soft cry as he beats against his chest lightly. “No, no. You didn’t run.”

“You’re gonna have to look after those little sheep for me, okay?” He begs, knowing that Dustin Henderson would be his only rightful successor. If he had to leave him, he at least wanted to let him know just how highly he thought of him.

“No, you’re gonna do that yourself!” Dustin protests with a sob and Eddie simply shakes his head, tears slipping down his cheeks.

“And…” His time is running out as another breath chokes from him. “… tell Y/n… I love her, okay? Please…”

Dustin struggles to speak. “I promise. I will look after them. And her.”

The sky above him was dark blue, crimson bleeding through the black clouds. A shot of burning light pierced through, highlighting the tiny white specs floating aimlessly above his face.

And, suddenly, death didn’t scare him anymore.

Eddie flashes one last smile before he feels himself slip away, muffled cries and whimpers fading into the silence.

There’s a flash of your face, your smile, your laugh. And then a flash of red before total, and complete, darkness.

Present Day. South Hawkins.

“Hey, guys? It’s Christmas Day.”

Robin looks up from her watch to stare back at her friends, a frown laced onto their faces before emotion takes over.

Nancy looks to Jonathan as his face drops, blood practically draining from his face. She gently reaches her hand out to comfort him. But he doesn’t want the sympathy. Instead, he stands, muttering something about taking watch before walking a few steps away and staring out at the red smoke in the sky just outside of their shelter.

She catches Steve’s eye, his own expression sorrowful before he cleared his throat and looked away. She felt helpless, unable to rid Jonathan of the pain he was feeling.

Nancy remembered every detail of that night, plagued by the memory anytime she looked at her boyfriend. She had lost a best friend, just as they all did. But Jonathan lost family. He couldn’t seem to make peace in any way, even knowing why his sister did it.

Y/n Byers died to save their lives.

March 1986. The Creel House. Upside Down.

All your life, you had been sacrificing your own needs for everyone else.

Usually little things, like driving Will to school even when you were going to be late for work. Or helping Steve and Dustin with a new-found theory when you were meant to be applying to colleges. But these things didn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things.

Not compared to Vecna.

Fire was thrown at him in bottles, Steve and Robin aiming with all their might. Fire was the only known thing that could destroy the creatures from the upside down. But, as you stand there beside Nancy, and watch the flames simply dance along Vecna’s skin, you realise it wasn’t working as it should.

Guns were a back up plan. You had all thought for sure that the fire would take him out, make him weaker. But it only made him stronger.

Nancy must have blasted hundreds of shots before Vecna finally stumbled. She was running out of ammo already, and he was recovering from every bullet, and every scorch.

As you look to your friends with wide eyes, their breaths are unsteady. You clutch the weapon in your hand. It was only meant to be a last resort. None of you were meant to get that close.

Vecna was practically breathing the fire before someone made a move. Steve grabbed a knife and threw, aimed just right to pierce the monster’s heart. But he was prepared, arm outstretched to hold it in the air as the others gasped.

“Shit.” Steve mutters as the knife is slowly flipped, pointed edge staring back at him. Vecna was staring him down, building power to shoot it back at him. He wouldn’t be fast enough to dodge it.

They were just lucky that Vecna never got to the chance to attack.

In the distraction, you had gripped onto your spear tightly, moving around him and, at the very last moment, you jumped forward and plunged it into his chest with all your strength.

Sure enough, he screeched out in pain, the knife clattering to the floor as he struggled to pull the metal out of his body. The action caused him to stumble back towards the window, fire still burning in places as Nancy readied her gun once more.

But, to your surprise, Vecna slumped to the ground, eyes fluttering shut as something oozed from the mark you had made.

“Holy shit!” Robin exhaled after a minute of silence, a breathy laugh leaving her lips before you all felt grins of relief on your own faces.

You were all too busy in your premature celebration to notice the slight movement in his hand, or the way his eye twitched. In fact, you didn’t know he was still alive until his bony hand wrapped around your neck and pulled you towards him.

“NO!” Your friends screamed, fumbling for any kind of weapon.

Vecna had you in front of him, your body shielding his. And the only weapon worth using was the shotgun in Nancy’s hands, a force strong enough to tear through the wall he had put up. Strong enough to tear through you.

His claws dug into your skin, drawing blood, as your eyes met Nancy’s fearful ones. You could almost see the options guilting their way into her brain, dancing around as she tried to find another way.

But the sheer pain-inducing grip Vecna held you in made one thing clear; you were going to die regardless.

“Do it, Nance.” You nod with tear stained cheeks and her eyes widen, pooling over with emotion.

“No.” She shakes her head profusely. “I can’t. I won’t.”

“It’s okay.” You try to smile, Vecna’s hand digging further into the area just below your neck. It was excruciating to say the least.

You couldn’t ask Nancy to shoot you, to bear that guilt. You didn’t expect Steve and Robin to either. All you knew was that if you were going to die, it would be on your own terms. And it would take Vecna with you.

Red light blared through the window behind you, stronger than the flickering lights above your head. You squeezed your eyes shut, mustering up a silent apology. To them, to your brothers.

To Eddie.

His only ask of you, before you left him and Dustin, was to stay alive. That was his only request. And despite how you longed to see his face again, to watch as his cheeks dimpled over with his wide grin, messy hair swaying in laughter… to simply just hold him… you knew what you had to do.

You hoped he would forgive you.

A single tear trickled down your cheek as you made up your mind, looking back at your friends one last time.

Before they could even react, you pushed off from the floorboards, throwing all your weight back into the creature behind you.

Screams and yells echoed around you in slow motion as Vecna crashed through the window, his grip tight on you.

You fell backwards through the shattered glass, already falling from the attic before his claws finally released you.

Then, it came in flashes.

The feeling of air whistling past your ears as you dropped, your hair whipping at your face. The final moment of hitting the ground beneath you.

You felt your body break, the blood pouring from your mouth as you led there, staring up at the dark blue sky, crimson bleeding through the black clouds. A shot of burning light pierced through, highlighting the tiny white specs floating aimlessly above your face.

You weren’t afraid of death, not really, but the idea made you nervous. Yet, somehow, laying there, you were… calm.

The last thing you remember was your vision darkening, an image of Vecna leaning over you, hand hovering in front of your face.

And then, it all went black.

Poor Steven 😭

Oh, reader caring for him melts my heart and Marc content and calm 😭🥰

Neighbors and Nightmares

Steven Grant x gn!reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 1k

Prompt: pulling your lover into your arms, kissing their cheek as you comfort them (requested by anon for my 3k follower celebration!)

Warnings: fluff, neighbor!reader, mention of nightmares, hurt/comfort, kisses, sweetness, pining, brief appearance by Marc too

Notes: Even though this fic is not explicit, my blog still is so please do not read or interact if you are under 18 thank you. Thanks so much for the request anon, I loved this prompt so much!! And it works so well with Steven cause he deserves the world!! I have an update only blog too to stay up to date on when I post @flightlessangelwings-updates​

~

A pained scream woke you up from a peaceful dream and immediately you were on high alert. Without hesitation, you jumped out of bed and rushed to the door as another scream echoed against the wall you shared with your neighbor, Steven Grant. This wasn’t the first time you’d woken up to the sounds of his agony while he slept, but this time seemed more urgent than before. Quickly, you grabbed your keyring, which included the spare key he gave you, and bolted out the door.

“Steven?!” you pounded at his door first. Dread filled your mind as you heard him yell and thrash around inside, “Steven, I’m coming in!” you called through the door as you slid the key in with shaky hands.

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I know it was her father and Harrow who poisoned her, I just know. These sons of a bitch!

do not chastise the dove (3) ✧ steven grant, marc spector, jake lockley

do not chastise the dove ✧ a royal moon knight au | ao3 | pinterest board

pairing: knight!steven grant x fem!princess!reader x knight!marc spector x knight!jake lockley

series summary: you were a princess who would rather be anything but a royal; he was the knight her father forced her to marry—a true match made in hell if there ever was one. but, as the wedding inches closer and closer, it seems that, perhaps, your father had finally done something right by you. 

chapter summary: you receive, perhaps, the worst birthday present of all: betrayal. 

word count: 6,543

warnings?: royal au, arranged marriage, assassination attempt, poisoning (nightshade), pet name (dove), not proofread

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OMG HE IS SO HANDSOME! 😍

Oh, Roger…