#Scary Steve harrington

[lukas-dusk]

Dustin : Eddie, give me your bat!

Eddie : My bat??

Dustin : Don't you carry a bat in your bag?

Eddie : Have you ever met a person carrying a bat in their bag??

Dustin calling Steve : Hey Steve do you carry a bat in your bag?

Steve : Of course, I'm not an animal.

[2jihiir0]

I love the way you wear that dress

Making everyone upset

Burning that cigarette, boy

Swear to god I'll confess, boy

Inspired by the song Dress by Charlotte Sands

Commission for @elishevayo

[velvetrooibos]

@toktopus-art ‘s Pokémon au on my brain. Maybe… when Steve was younger he was the leader of the Harrington family Pokémon gym… also I made his gym badge the shape of the Harrington pool but it kinda looks like. A mouse.

[littlechivalry]

Threshold

Post-UD, everybody lives. Established Steddie

-

Eddie couldn't do it. He turned, ready to run, but Steve's hand clamped down on his arm like an iron manacle.

"Fuck you, let me go," Eddie hissed.

"Like hell I will," Steve replied, just as harshly. "You have to do this, you're the only one who can."

"I'd rather die."

The sales clerk cleared her throat and Eddie snapped his mouth shut.

"Are you-- can I help you find anything else," she said softly, her hands open in front of her.

"No," Steve replied. "Just this."

'This' was a vacuum cleaner. An upright vacuum cleaner with hose attachment and a retractable cord. A one hundred dollar vacuum cleaner.

Eddie felt sick. He pulled his hand away and Steve let it go awkwardly. Eddie cleared his throat and nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, just this." He pulled out his wallet and passed over the money. Signing the warranty card in a messy scrawl.

They walked out of the store and loaded the vacuum into the back of Steve's truck.

Steve and Eddie had gotten to the car in silence but once the doors were closed it started.

"Babe," Steve said, his voice soft but firm. "What was that about? We agreed we need a new vacuum. Wayne's old one gave up the ghost and the carpet sweeper does nothing. I thought this was cool."

Eddie groaned and rubbed the heels of his hands against his eyes. "It's not-- it's just..."

He couldn't find the words and Steve didn't press him. The interior of the truck's cab was quiet, windows muffling the noise of other shoppers moving through the parking lot, the occasional sound of their radios drifting on the air.

Eddie took a few breaths, heard Steve do the same beside him - in - out - in - out

"Can I check in," Steve says after a few breaths.

"Almost," Eddie replies and they go back to breathing.

This time Eddie breaks the silence. "It's real, right?"

"Real," Steve echoes. "The vacuum? Yeah?"

"It's -- the vacuum we have now? Wayne got it from the Johnsons before they moved to go live with their kids in Des Moines. It was a really good vacuum. Lasted, like. Seven years. The one before that Wayne found in the trash. It needed some fixing up and the hose had to be taped together but it ran for two years."

Steve hums, just a considering noise to show he's listening but leaving Eddie some spacw to talk. Eddie cannot explain how much he appreciates that.

"The stove was a store display they were gonna toss out because the wiring was bad. The couch was abandoned on a curb up in Loch Nora. Most of my clothes come from the Goodwill; Wayne's too, even his work boots. My guitar, my sweetheart, is a hand-me-down to I don't know how many degrees."

Eddie sighs and tips his head back against the headrest. The ceiling of the cab is upholstered in dark blue fabric. Eddie drags his fingers over it.

"Munsons don't get new things, Steve. Not nice ones, anyway." He blew out a rough breath. "I know this is stupid. It's just a vacuum cleaner, but--"

"Don't say that," Steve interrupted. "If I don't get to say stupid neither do you."

Eddie reached over the gear shift and clasped the hand Steve offered.

"Okay," Steve said. "Do you... should we return the vacuum?"

"No," Eddie said. "No, that's not the answer. We-- I have the money. I can afford a new vacuum, a nice one."

"A really nice one."

"And it's okay to buy new things."

"It really is," Steve said.

Eddie nodded. "We're grown ups now, Stevie. Got good jobs, a nice apartment, a fancy new vacuum cleaner. What's next, a picket fence? 2.5 kids and a dog?"

Steve smiled and pulled Eddie's hand up to his face, pressed a kiss against his knuckles before letting go and reaching for the ignition. "I'm allergic to dogs but let's get home and we can start working on kids."

Eddie reached out for Steve, pulling him across the armrest into a fierce kiss.

Steve fell back into his seat, a bright flush in his cheeks. "Wow," Steve said, starting the car. "What are you gonna do when we buy a house?"

The radio came to life but Eddie could barely hear it over his own laughter.

[sabrinadelreyy]

other men are scary, so I'll stick to joe keery 😇

[honeysmoonn]

guys who kneel down when talking to kids<3

[hungharrington]

jayy!! lately i’ve been thinking that steve really really likes it when you ride him. like yeah, he loves to see you on top but i feel like he loves the idea of you using him to get off yknow?? like he just wants to be your boy toy. doesn’t even care if he doesn’t cum, but gets SO WHINY and blushy when he does cause he just feels so so lucky to have you jump his bones🙌

UGH i need him like i need to BREATHE. need him to whine in my ears 24/7

-🍒

oh lawd. this one…. brain goes BRRRRRRR what did you PUT in this ask cherry…. does this fit the prompt? maybe 🤪 but it was written at work so have mercy on me

Of all the things Steve loves in the world, making you feel good? Top of the list.

That much is a given— with the fervor in which he’ll bury his face between your thighs, moans that vibrate against your cunt just right, his fingers digging into your thighs as his hips rut against the bed.

When he’s determined to pull an orgasm out of you with his hands, his darkened hazel eyes drinking in every moan, desperately flicking between your blissed out expression and his fingers pumping into your cunt, covered in your slick— all of it shows in the ache in his pants, in the breathy noises he makes when you tip over the edge.

So, you’re not at all surprised at what he says to you that night — take what you want.

You’re both tangled together, haphazardly draped across the bed— too entranced in the hot press of each others mouth to think about letting go, even as you had both staggered up the stairs and into the bedroom. It had been one charged dinner date, with one hand far too comfortable sneaking up your skirt go tease you.

Now, Steve lies beneath you and when you break away, panting, to work on the buttons of his dress shirt, he’s a fucking sight to behold. Chest heaving, face flushed so much it crawls down his neck, his eyes fix on you with such an intenseness that it makes you shiver.

His shirt has been driving you crazy all dinner, undone just enough to show a flash of chest hair. Now you work it open quickly, each button revealing a little more of his glorious tanned chest, sprinkled with hair. Lust drools through you. You rake one hand down it, fingernails pressing into his skin lightly and Steve groans.

“Okay, you need to get naked, like, right now,” His hands pair with his words, finding the edge of your shirt. He’s tugging it up and your arms go up to let him pull it from your frame. His insistance makes your grin.

“Funny how you can say that when you’re still wearing pants.” You bicker back, using your now free hands to work on his belt buckle.

Steve watches you for a moment, his tummy clenches when you palm at his bulge for a moment and his head rolling back onto the duvet. He makes a pained noise. His hands form fists at his sides — just for a moment, before he’s sliding them up your thighs.

They creep beneath your skirt, finding the elastic of your panties — then one of his hands shift forward, cupping your heat tightly. You moan at the same time Steve does, his hand pressing up against your clit perfectly. He shakes his head on the bed, his hair messing up against the sheets.

“I take it back,” He whines. His hands shoot down to overtake yours, shucking his pants down his thighs as best he can. Just the thin material of his boxers remains. “I don’t think I can wait, honey, I need— you can just- please,”

“Hey, hey, I got it, I got you,” You push his hands away and Steve melts. He grows still, only his hands twitching and his neck craned up to watch as you tug his boxers down.

His cock must be aching with the way it looks, all pretty and flushed in the head, crying just for you. You can’t help yourself, giving it a quick pump, rubbing the head with your thumb.

Steve keens loudly, his body growing taut, his head thrown back. A strangled whimper tears from his throat. “Ngh- please, oh fuck, pleasepleaseplease—“

You release his cock and Steve deflates a bit, panting loudly. Your skirt takes only a second to remove and it takes another to push your panties to the side, your knees straddling across his hips. Your core burns hotly, clenching in anticipation of being filled.

You make sure Steve is watching as you hold his cock, prepped to sink down — and he is. His face, still flushed with his eyes bright, is intent on watch your own.

It makes the heat in your gut flare hotter. Hot lust sparks beneath your skin as he keeps his gaze on you for as long as he can — your hot, wet cunt sinking down on him finally forcing his eyes closed.

“Fuck, fuck— shit, don’t move just yet,” The words pour from Steve’s mouth, his eyes screwed up and head thrown back. Your hands shift forward, planting on his chest and you give him a minute— revelling in the delicious stretch his cock gives you. Fuck, it never gets old.

You lean down and kiss the closest skin you can find, his collarbone. Steve smiles, eyes still closed. His hands shift off the sheets, trailing from your thighs, your hips, up your ticklish sides, until he finds your face. His thumbs stroke over your cheeks delicately and when he pulls you closer, you follow without hesitance.

He kisses your lips, soft and sweet, and then murmurs against them. “Take what you want, baby.”

A little whine creeps out your mouth at his words and your hips follow without thinking, beginning to rock gently. A dose of lust licks up your spine and you sigh prettily.

Steve’s face shudders, pleasure rippling across his features and his eyes slip shut. His mouth drops open a little bit, the smallest noise escaping, his cheeks almost as pink as his lips. His eyes crinkle open, watching you closely.

“Ye- yeah, that’s it.” Steve manages to murmur. His hands haven’t left your face, still gently holding either side as you roll your hips back, slow and sensual. “Good girl.”

A gasp pushes past your lips and this time when you rock back, it’s a little more desperate. Steve moans, voice drenched in desire, and his hands fall from your face to grip the sheets. You lean on his chest further, your thighs aching deliciously as you fuck yourself on his cock— up and down, faster and faster.

“Steve,” you mewl out. It’s instinct to reach for him, to call out for him and in response, you feel the buck of his hips, pressing him deeper within you. Steve whimpers.

“You got it, honey,” He assures, voice more and more breathy. “Doing so good.”

There’s a soft squelch as you work yourself down on him, a coil of pleasure beginning to tighten up in your tummy. You feel a fiery warmth beneath your skin that spikes with every movement you make.

One of Steve’s hands comes up to cover your own, holding it tight to his chest — right over his heart and he lets the other nudge your face back to facing him. You hadn’t realised how it had begun to tilt forward, lost in your own pleasure.

“Mhm, fu- fuck, that’s my girl,” Steve whispers. You shift up to change the angle and when you fuck back down, you moan loudly — Steve writhing beneath you to contain himself from fucking up into you. You, however, show him no mercy.

“God,” Steve whines loudly. His breathes are coming out with little whimpers now. “That’s—that’s it— just fuckin’ take what you need. Take it, take it from me, baby.”

Your cunt gushes and you whimper — and you do just that.

[suspiciouslackofclowns]

I’m having a lot of thoughts about super protective Steve right now, but I’m also having a lot of writer’s block so I don’t have the energy to actually set the whole scene.

I need Billy and Steve delivering pizzas and snacks to The Party (including the Corroded Coffin guys) to wherever they’re holding their campaign. Maybe somewhere in the woods because it’s aesthetic and the weather is nice, like out by Castle Byers.

The kids are fine with Harringroveson for the most part by now, though a couple of them (namely Dustin) don’t always get along the best with Billy. He tries really hard so it’s getting better, but progress is slow. He’s still detested by the Corroded Coffin guys (namely Gareth).

I love the misunderstood character trope for some reason. I love the idea of other characters hating Billy’s image, the idea of him, but when they get to know him as more than the asshole jock they peg him as, they realize he isn’t all that bad.

Maybe Gareth makes one too many comments about not wanting Billy there. Calls him an asshole and provokes him with the intention of validating his own perception of the blond. Maybe even goes as far as to insinuate that the only reason Eddie or Steve are with him is because of his looks. Something mean that’s said in a teasing tone, but hits just as hard despite it.

Billy doesn’t react with white hot rage like everyone’s expecting. He turns away and walks through the woods back to the car with a look of shame on his face, and Steve immediately jogs to catch up with him, lacing their fingers together as they weave through the trees.

Eddie stands there anxiously, wondering if he should follow them or if it’ll overwhelm his already upset boyfriend. He turns back to the group and looks pointedly at Gareth. Not angry. Just disappointed.

Which some could argue is worse.

“C’mon, man,” he sighs, gesturing vaguely. “You couldn’t be cordial until they left? He didn’t even do anything.”

“Made ‘em leave faster, didn’t it?”

Gareth’s tone is less sure than before, because after all, he isn’t a malicious person at his core. He’s clearly at odds with himself about hurting Billy’s feelings — he didn’t even think it was something that could happen.

Eddie just shakes his head and sighs.

“Well, you’ve poked the bear, so now shit’s gonna get testy.”

“What, like—“ Gareth gulps and his eyes blow wide. “Like Hargrove’s gonna kick my ass or something?”

At the words, Eddie laughs. Crosses his arms and sobers when he hears twigs crunch in the distance, a set of footsteps approaching once again.

“Not Billy,” Eddie whispers.

As if on queue, Steve emerges from between the trees. His jaw is clenched and his shoulders are squared. He gets eyes on Gareth before anything else, which has him scurrying up out of his seat on the floor. Ready to bolt.

Steve stops beside Eddie. Shrugs his hand off of his shoulder when Eddie sets it there and points an accusatory finger at Gareth. The movement makes him flinch even though he’s still a handful of feet away.

“I dunno what your fucking problem is, but you don’t say shit like that about my boyfriend when I’m around, you hear me?” Steve seethes. He eyes Gareth up and down like he’s sizing him up before he simply tsks and shakes his head. “You can find your way home in the dark for all I care, so don’t bother asking for a ride when the game’s over.”

He stares until Gareth nods, at which point some of the rage relaxes out of him. Only slightly.

Then he turns to Eddie.

“Get on the radio when you’re done?” he says much more softly. “I’m gonna go ahead and take him home.”

“Is he alright?”

“Yeah, but you know how he is.”

Eddie nods and cracks a smile.

“Big ol’ softie.”

“Mhmm.”

Steve mirrors his expression. Leans in for a quick kiss, then casts Gareth a final glare before he takes his leave.

Once he’s gone, Eddie huffs a laugh and intertwines his fingers over the back of his head.

“Jesus. Give him a while, he’ll get over it,” he dismisses. Glances over at Gareth, who looks about as startled as a mouse that’s been dropped into a snake pit. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“I dunno, you could probably speed up the process by making Billy a cake or something.” When Gareth furrows his eyebrows, Eddie shrugs and laughs again. “I’ve never pissed Steve off that bad, but I have hurt Billy’s feelings before. My boy loves him some chocolate cake.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then two.

They wind up having to wrap the game up faster than they anticipated, because the nice weather becomes a drizzle which becomes a pour.

Steve goes against his word and gives Gareth a ride home.

The next day, he’s standing on their porch with a Tupperware container full of chocolate cupcakes that say srry 4 b-ing an a-hole in blue icing on top.

Billy immediately shoves one into his mouth and Steve reluctantly forgives Gareth, meanwhile Eddie is laughing his ass off because he didn’t really expect him to take his suggestion seriously.

[little-bumblebeeee]

Hey, this is my first time doing an ask so could you please do steve harrington angst where he feels a lil distrust cause of how things ended with nancy with comfort at the end. Feel free to ignore if you're not up for it 🙃

Omgggg babes sorry this took longer than expected, I started a new school and got food poisoning lmao 👍

Anyways without further ado,

Steve Harrington x reader, slight angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, Steve thinks reader might be cheating or is unhappy, 1k words ♡ (hardly proofread, forgive me love)

You had to stay late for work to fix a mess your boss made, and in your haste to finish it you forgot to tell Steve. Sure, you haven't been dating long and sure, you don't live together, but lately he's been staying at your place to escape the big empty birdcage that is his parent's house, so maybe you should have told him.But you didn't, that's the thing. The sun has already set by the time you get home, your cheeks flushed from the cold as you quickly close the door to let as little heat out as possible.

"Steve? Are you here?" You call out, seeing the light from the kitchen on but no noise. Not the clink of the dishes being washed or the sound of something being stirred, no sizzling of food and no shuffling of feet to the pop music Steve likes. No noise and no answer.

"Stevie?" You call out once more. You have a feeling that he's here, the imaginary hook in your chest that pulls you closer to him feeling short. When you show up to the kitchen, there he is, standing in front of the counter and looking down at his cup of hot chocolate, little marshmallows disintegrated and no steam rising from the top, he must've been standing there for a while.

"Hey." He says softly, bringing the mug to his lips maybe for the first time, frowning at the cold as if he was completely powered down before you stepped into the room. He sets it back down to be forgotten until the mug needs to be washed, turning the burner back on that has the pot of milk on it.

"Sorry I got home late, my boss is an absolute child." You say as you lean up against the counter, watching as he stirs the milk in the pot and shakes the chocolate packet. "Oh no, it's fine. It's fine. You don't have to tell me everything." He says, the muscle in his jaw clearly clenched.

"Steve, you alright?" You ask, stepping just a little closer with your arms crossed loosely upon hearing the tone in his voice, firm and steady, as if he's controlling every word, every breath, every little movement. It's a little scary and concerning– but you've seen him like this before. He's just annoyed and doesn't want to be snarky with you. Before he can say that he's fine, you raise your eyebrows at him, daring him to say that he is because you know he's not. Daring him to say that he had a tough day because he already called you during your lunch break to tell you how good of a day he had.

"I just.. were you actually at work? Just tell me the truth." He asks you. The truth? Does he believe you're lying? Sure, you haven't been together for a super long time, but why would he think you were doing something else? You told him what happened– does he not trust you? You just can't help but wonder what goes through his mind in times like this.

"I was. I just couldn't text you because my boss won't stop acting like a child, I told you." You say. The hurt and confusion you feel must be visible on your facial features because he puts down the packet of chocolate power, turning to face you.

"I don't mean to offend you or anything but how am I supposed to know I can trust you? We haven't.. we haven't been dating long, I know– and you can call me crazy or paranoid or say all of this is bullshit but I.. just want to know. I want to make sure you're okay– I want to make sure we're okay. I don't want to be lied to." He explains, running a hand through his hair and pinching his nose once or twice, a clear sign he's holding everything back. You two haven't really... talked about past relationships, but you've heard things. Heard and seen things. All you wanted to do that night at Tina's party was hide in the bathroom until your friend came to pick you up, leading you to hear a conversation you definitely shouldn't have heard. The air feels dark and heavy– something you've never felt around Steve, who practically has sunlight coursing through his veins, making every room just a little brighter. But the sunlight is gone, his blood red instead of gold.

"Steve–" You start, but he stops you in your tracks. "Don't start like that." He says, looking as if you're about to break the worst news to him. You kind of did start like that too– a sort of softened tone in your voice as if you didn't want what you were about to say to hurt him. But you continue anyways.

"You're not crazy, or paranoid, or whatever else. You're just a little cautious. But I was at work, and I can call my boss right now if you need me to." You say, your phone open and held out to him.

Steve just.. blinks a couple times. But he shakes his head, pushing your hand away and pulling you close, his arms snaking around your waist as he buries his nose into the crook of your neck. You feel more than hear the apology, but you know it's being said.

And you know he means it.

Because Steve doesn't lie. He doesn't say things that he doesn't mean, if he tells you that he loves you then he loves you, no doubt about it. "I shouldn't have. I'm sorry– I... things never went right for me, and now that they are, it's scary. It's scary as hell. Because I don't know when it's going to stop, I don't.. I don't know when things will go wrong again. I just.. I love you. Too much, sometimes." He admits, lifting his head up a little with a humorless chuckle, brown eyes boring into your soul.

"And I don't ever want to let you go." He adds. He proves his point by squeezing you tighter, putting everything he has into this one squeeze as if someone is waiting just behind you to steal you away.

His skin shines golden once more, the room feeling warmer and brighter. Everything seems to feel less dull when you love him, doesn't it?

[jadewritesficshere]

Picture this: Steve is now a school teacher. Every time there is a new style or trend, he comes home and gossips about it to Eddie (listen, he's made some fashion mistakes but come ON). But its the 90s, and Steve starts seeing light up shoes.

All he can think about is how Eddie would LOVE them. Are they a lil silly for their age? Sure, but Eddie is a silly goose. Eddie also deserves things that make him happy. So if a simple pair of shoes makes him happy, Steve will gladly buy them.

He saves up paycheck after paycheck to buy them. Drops the box unceremoniously in Eddie's lap, because his hands can never seem to work with wrapping paper. Eddie opens the box and is immediately in awe.

Puts them on and stamps his foot down, watching the lights shine. Gets mesmerized for awhile by the lights. The joy on Eddie's face and the laughter being shared between the two of them makes up for the price in Steve's opinion. Eddie wears the shoes proudly, even as others tease him, he just responds with "you're just jealous your shoes don't light up"

But also picture: its 3am and Steve awakes slowly. All he sees is lights flashing in the room as Eddie tries to sneak in and fails.

[kennahjune]

the moment mike accepted steve into the party

he didn’t get it. what was so good about steve harrington?

yeah, he was good looking and strong. but other than that? nothing. in mike’s eyes, he was still the asshole rando that dated his sister. and he didn’t plan on that changing.

until march of 1985.

mike had been held back after class for falling asleep. it wasn’t his fault. he couldn’t ever sleep unless someone else was with him. and there was no way in hell he was gonna cuddle with nancy. besides, he was good at the class— so no need to pay attention really.

at least miss noelle didn’t call his mom.

dustin, lucas, and will were waiting for him in the hall. oh, and max, cause she was actually kind of cool.

“what was up with miss noelle?” lucas asked as they walked down the hall.

“pissed i fell asleep in class,” mike said dejectedly. max snorted from beside him.

“maybe just don’t fall asleep?” she asked rhetorically.

mike huffed and flipped her off. “you sound like my dad.”

dustin shuddered from his other side. “ew. not cool man.”

mike rolled his eyes. “it’s true! my dads always like ‘just don’t this’ and ‘just don’t do that’ instead of actually helping! It’s so annoying.”

will came up and bumped arms with him while they finally left the school. classes were done and they were finally left to do what they wanted.

“uh oh.” came from lucas. mike sighed, catching sight of what— or who— lucas was “uh oh-ing” about.

“just don’t look at them,” max said under her breath while she averted her eyes to the ground.

“that never works,” retorted lucas.

“you have any better ideas? just keep walking.”

great. the one day nancy or jonathan aren’t picking them up and they run into noah and joey.

in 1983, el had gotten troy and james to back off— even scaring them into moving. but el’s not here right now, so she can’t help with noah and joey— the party’s most recent tormentors.

will stepped closer to mike and mike nudged his hand with his. everyone pulled in closer to each other in hopes of concealing themselves and the others. of course, it didn’t work.

“hey hey! look man, it’s the circus!” mike saw noah nudge joey beside him.

“shit,” dustin cursed.

and ‘shit’ was right. no one wanted to deal with noah and joey. especially with the mood mike was currently in after being held up.

“seriously what hell is it, tanner?” mike addressed noah directly.

joey whistled lowly and took a sharp step forward. will and dustin both flinched pretty hard. max gave a twitch but lucas and mike held their ground for the most part. noah and joey got a kick laughing at dustin and will.

“awwww they’re scared, joey! like a bunch of babies!”

mike forgot how stupid kids sound most of the time. they could call him a baby all they wanted— nothing will ever compare to watching will get possessed and then watching bob die.

mike still reached out and grabbed someone’s hand. he thinks it was lucas’.

joey and noah were both a good bit taller than mike, which meant they were also a good bit taller than everyone else in the party. they liked to use their height to their advantage but mike had dealt with monsters twice his height. it wasn’t scary, just annoying at this point.

still didn’t help the fact that they didn’t want to deal with this.

mike had zoned out, because next thing he knew he was being shoved to the ground. it probably wouldn’t have hurt too bad if they weren’t outside in the parking lot. mike felt his chin bust on the pavement in a sickening repeat of ‘83 with troy and james.

will was there in a second with dustin, helping him up off the ground and dusting him off. dustin held his hands while Will held his face, frantic over the now gushing blood that he could feel running down his neck. he was trembling. why was he trembling?

he faintly heard yelling and assumed lucas and max were arguing with joey and noah.

“just fuck off, murphy!” he heard max yell at joey. “we’ve literally done nothing to either of you and yet you make us hate our fucking lives!”

“aww, noah, she thinks we actually care! isn’t that cute?”

mike stood up with the help up dustin and will. but that only served to turn noah and joey’s attention onto him. well. better on him than on max.

“so whatcha gonna do, wheeler? gonna push me like troy? gonna wimp out and go cry to mommy and daddy?”

mike actually considered pushing joey. but that’d probably just make thing worse. if el hadn’t been there last year to save his ass from troy mike would’ve gotten pummeled.

but it was a serious option he considered.

dustin stepped in front of mike and shoved joey back. mike didn’t even realize how close he’d gotten. wow. he was really out of it today, huh?

“back off murphy.”

mike wanted to hug dustin, but at the same time he wanted to smack him upside the head for putting himself in the way. it’s easier when they target mike. just let them target him. he doesn’t care at this point.

dustin stayed arguing with joey and stopped only when there were multiple shouts from max, will and lucas.

noah had pulled max’s hair and in return was shoved to the ground by lucas. but noah had taken will down with him and now will struggled with lucas and max to get noah off.

mike saw red, and in a moments notice had noah off of will and on the ground. he was vaguely aware of dustin and max cheering him on with dustin and will watching.

it didn’t last very long until noah shoved mike hard enough that he fell backwards and busted his head on the ground. again.

at this point he was working himself towards a concussion. just like steve, he thought deliriously. and speak of the devil.

“aye!”

mike, dustin, lucas, will, and max all looked up, startled by the familiar voice and claps.

“what the fuck are you shits doing, huh?”

steve fucking harrington was suddenly right next to mike on the ground, kneeling and helping him sit up.

“shit, you ok mike? that’s a nasty scrape you got there. i have bandaids in the car, let’s go get you one, yeah?”

mike just nodded. he really wanted to know what the fuck steve was doing there and why he seemed to intent on helping.

“who the fuck are you?”

steve stood with mike halfway to the car, the rest of the group following, mike noticed. joey and noah stood idly in the parking lot, seeming put out by steve’s sudden appearance.

steve’s eye twitched and mike watched him bite the inside of his cheek. mike watched in real time as steve recognized joey and noah and seemed to piece together exactly what happened. he scoffed. not what mike was expecting.

steve gently nudged mike towards the car and knocked his knuckles on dustin’s hat. “you kids go get in the car. max you can toss your board in the trunk.”

dustin seemed to want to protest but even he could see how pissed steve was. even max was keeping quiet. lucas and will were quick to follow instructions and headed to the car. mike was right behind them.

lucas tried the back door (knowing mike got shotgun for the bandaids and possible concussion) but the handle only wiggled. “locked.”

“did he give one of you the keys?” asked will.

they all shook their heads. they didn’t have to wait long until steve was back with them at the car.

“why aren’t you guys in the car yet?”

“locked.” informed will.

“ohhhh. oops.” steve unlocked the car and helped max put her skate board in the trunk. when he hopped into the drivers side dustin and lucas were hounding him with questions.

“why are you here?”

“I thought we were walking home?”

“what the hell was that?”

“what did you do to noah and joey?”

“settle down and shut up, would you? nancy mentioned you guys were walking home so I came to grab you. you’d think that after everything they’d be a little more cautious. and also, language, henderson. I am so not taking the blame when you end up slipping in front of your mom.”

“awww you were worried steve.” max teased.

steve scoffed. “‘course I was, red. and it turned out I had every right to be. anybody wanna explain what that was?”

suddenly the car was quiet.

steve clicked his tongue.

“fine. guess you’re all coming to my house, huh?”

there was a sudden uproar in questions and “what the hell?”s.

“listen! i’m not letting any of you shits go home until I one; know for sure mike doesn’t have a concussion—“ steve eyed mike and he felt himself flinch. “—and two; before I get the whole story.”

there was a bunch of grumbling from the backseat, but mike himself stayed quiet throughout the rest of the ride.

“oh! and mike—“ mike looked at steve briefly and barely caught the box of tissues tossed at him. “—put that on the scrape for now, yeah? I’ll clean it properly when we get to the house.”

mike nodded and held a wad of tissues to his chin.

when they pulled up to the harrington house, everyone was inside quickly. everyone went to use the phone in the living room to call their parents and when mike went to follow he was grabbed gently on the shoulder.

“can you head to the kitchen and grab out the med-kit? I need to make sure they don’t drive my bill up.”

mike knew it was meant to be used as a distraction. but he’d take it. so he headed to the kitchen before realizing he didn’t know where the med-kit was. he rifled around in the cabinets for a bit before finding it stored away under the sink.

mike pulled it out and waited at the kitchen island. he noticed that it was a pretty heavy kit. and it seemed to be used a lot judging by the lack of dust and how it had a couple of bandages peeking from the crease.

everyone piled into the kitchen, book bags dumped in the living room and shoes discarded by the door. will sat on a stool next to mike and dustin and max hopped on the counter. lucas took a seat on the other side of mike.

“ooookay. ah! there it is.” steve opened the kit and grabbed out a brown bottle and a few cotton balls. mike noted how he seemed to know where everything in the med-kit was as if he used it on a daily. he filed the information away for later.

“what’s that supposed to be?” mike eyed the bottle with weariness.

“just peroxide. it’s meant to clean the cut. I know for a fact that that parking lot is fucking filthy and I’m not risking an infection due to gunk in the wound.”

steve put a cotton ball to the open top of the bottle and tipped the bottle over. “i’m not going to lie and say it doesn’t hurt, cause it does sting a bit. but it also definitely helps in the long run.” steve held up the cotton ball as if in question.

mike nodded and looked up, giving steve more room to see the scrape. mike gripped will’s hand and hissed when the cotton ball first dabbed, but the pain soon subsided.

“now this part isn’t too fun either but it’s kind of needed. how attached to that shirt are you?”

mike looked down at that faded, off-white with blue stripes shirt he was wearing. “not very. why?”

“ok, good. this won’t ruin the shirt but you might have to change is all i’m saying. I need to pour the peroxide directly on the scrape to clean it out properly. “

(I know that hydrogen peroxide actually tends to damage tissue and delay healing but they didn’t really know that in the 80s so bare with me.)

mike shuddered at the thought. “I don’t have clothes to change into.”

“I have an extra shirt in my bag.” offered lucas. “I had gym today.” he clarified when he got off looks.

“that’d be perfect, thanks sinclair.”

lucas jumped up to get the shirt and came back in with a white t-shirt with red sleeves. he set it on the counter for afterwards. lucas wordlessly took mike’s hand that will wasn’t holding.

it wasn’t long before the scrape was clean and steve was putting away the kit. while everyone else ran into the living room to watch movies and raid steve’s snacks, mike took the shirt and went to the bathroom to change.

when he came back out (after looking at the funny bandage on his chin— because seriously, what kind 17 year old just had dinosaur bandaids in their med-kit?) mike was quick to join everyone in the living room before steve could pull him aside again.

honestly? fuck that guy.

(but when mike sat between will and max on the couch he couldn’t stop thinking about how soft steve was when taking care of the scrape. he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about how old he was when he last felt that gentleness.

the answer was 7. mike was 7 when his mom deemed him old enough to deal with his own cuts and bruises.)

steve eventually held out on his promise of getting information. and after their first movie he forced them all onto the couches while he stood in front of them.

“so am I actually going to get an answer this time?” he stood with his hands on his hips and a dish towel thrown over his shoulder. mike remembered this same stance from not even a year ago, when they were trying to talk him into going in the tunnels.

steve almost reminded mike of his mom for a moment. but mike doubted his mom would go this far if she ever found out about the bullying. (mike refused to admit that he liked the idea of steve fretting over them like this. the idea made him almost sick to his stomach.)

everyone refused to look at him. max looked dead ahead at the wall, lucas kept his eyes trained on the floor, will was messing with his jacket sleeves and dustin was paying extra attention to the ceiling.

mike chewed the inside of his cheek.

“what the hell do you wanna hear from us, steve?” he asked. “that we’re being bullied? that they picked a fight with us first? that we’re nerds and freaks and weirdos?”

will, dustin and lucas flinched with each insult. max refused to look at anything other than what mike assumed was the odd spot on the wall. mike saw steve’s left eye twitch— the one he was always getting punched in.

“that what they told you?”

mike scoffed. “that’s what everyone told us. we’re the school circus!” his voice raised at the end and will flinched violently next to him.

“mike..” dustin uttered from beside max.

“sorry.” he mumbled, finally letting his gaze drop from steve to the coffee table in front of them.

steve sighed quietly.

“noah tanner and joey murphy, right? they both have older siblings, noah an older brother and joey an older sister.”

that made head snap to him.

“what—“ lucas started.

“mitchel tanner and annie murphy are their names. mitch is on the swim team, annie on the cheer team. they’re both barely passing their classes and aren’t exactly the kindest either— in fact I watched mitch shove freshman into a door yesterday.” steve continued, his voice soft as if he was simply talking to himself.

dustin’s and lucas’ jaws were on the floor, max and will were looking at him as if he were insane.

“so— wait—“

“you know their older siblings?”

“what the hell does that have to do with anything?”

steve smirked. and mike was /scared/. he’d seen steve smirk before, when he was dating nancy, when he said something particularly bitchy.

but this. this smirk was plain /mean/.

“would be a real shame if.. I dunno, their coaches suddenly find out about the poor sophomores they make do their homework. or worse— principal higgins finds out. who are mitch and annie gonna blame then, huh?”

dustin sputtered, “you! they’d just blame you, wouldn’t they?”

steve shrugged. “sure. but then they’d know why I did it. their brothers fucking with my kids.”

he said it so calmly. as if it was just the plain truth. as if he wasn’t scared to admit it.

if this is how he’s treated, being of steve’s “kids”, then shit. he may not be all that mad after all.

steve pulled the towel off his shoulder and walked back into the kitchen, a call over his shoulder about ham and cheese sliders and chips for dinner.

but none of the kids were listening.

lucas turned dustin who turned to max who turned to mike who turned to will who looked back at all of them with the biggest grin mike’s ever seen on his face.

ok. so maybe mike gets the hype the steve harrington.

(and if the next week of school went by with no issues, with noah and joey looking at them in /fear/? well. mike had steve to thank.)

[becomingfoxes]

friend, love, freefall

Happy Valentine's day 💛🐸

This is my piece for Nex for the Steddie as She Goes discord v-day exchange.

I also wrote my very first fic 🥺💛 You can read friend, love, freefall here if you're feeling froggy. Hope you like it if you do!

[plistommy]

The scary movie scene of the girl running away from ghostface, but then the sprinklers hit her and it goes to slow-mo while she looks all sexy but it’s Steve in tiny shorts instead and Eddie’s the one after him…

[pearynice]

STWG Daily Prompt: Rain

cw: discussions of suicidal ideation (no actual desire to), discussions of chronic pain | tags: hurt/comfort, soft Steve Harrington, touch-starved Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson get a hug

This became a bit longer than a drabble but I hope you enjoy~

He just wanted to feel something that wasn’t his couch. Or his bed. Or the incessant itching of his new skin. He just wanted to feel something beyond the four walls of the trailer.

It’s not like he went far. Just to the edge of the forest, where he could hear the rain pelt against the leaves and feel the squelch of mud between his toes. Where he could breathe and it didn’t smell like sweat and injury and antiseptic. 

But then he got tired. Because of course he got tired. Taking a fucking piss wipes him clean of energy, these days, so he kind of didn’t have any other choice but to lie down. 

The rain pelts his face. Soaks into his clothes and into his hair, runs into his ears and a little up his nose.

He doesn’t care. It’s something new, finally, after so many weeks in the hospital and then even more cooped up in the trailer.

He just had to get out. Just for a little while. He wanted- needs- to fucking feel something, anything, other than pain and boredom.

And the rain feels nice, even though it’s cold. It makes his teeth chatter, makes it hard to feel his fingers and his toes, which he kind of marvels at, holds his fingers in front of his face and presses them together, watches them go from a pale yellow to a stark white, the fact that he can see it happening the only way he knows it is.

He doesn’t know how long it’s been. But the rain keeps coming, so he stays, even as lightning strikes begin to illuminate the sky, even as thunder rumbles through the air. 

At least it’s not a MASH rerun. At least it’s not fucking Jeopardy, or him reading the Hobbit for the millionth fucking time. At least it’s not Wayne’s troubled face or Steve’s concerned frown. 

It’s just him and the sky. Who doesn’t give a fuck about him. Doesn’t care that it’s pelting him with rain or chilling him to the bone. Doesn’t care whether or not it sends a lethal shot of electricity through his sloppy joe-ed insides. It doesn’t expect him to get better or to be grateful that he lived. It could kill him, right now, and nothing would stop. 

The clouds would keep on rolling. The lighting would continue. The thunder would advance. And Eddie would be dead.

He ponders on that for a moment. He knows, technically, he died for a minute or two. Knows Steve had to keep his old meat sack pumping his blood through his veins. 

It’s not that he wants to be dead. It’s just- he thought life was difficult enough before. When he was a freak and an outcast and a super-super-senior, but fuck that guy, because he wouldn’t know what difficult was if it bit him in the ass.

Besides, he couldn’t put Wayne through that. Couldn’t put Dustin- or Steve or Max or any of them- 

Not after everything they’ve done for him.

So Eddie inches away from the forest. Away from the trees that are undoubtedly beckoning the lightning to close in on him.

It’s then he realizes how cold he really is. October rainfalls are no joke, apparently. He can feel his layers of skin. Feel the blood beginning to retract in and away from the cold until the grass beneath him doesn’t quite feel real.

He runs his fingers through the blades, their soft edges barely registering under his numbed palm.

“Eddie!?”

He knows it’s Steve before he even turns his head, before he sees that horrible pained expression on his face, before Steve yells his name again and falls to his knees at his side.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Steve’s eyes are wide, searching his face. His hands come up to hover over Eddie like he’s not sure where to begin.

Pain convulses in his chest, and he realizes he’s crying. It’s deep and sharp and aching and he’s so tired of always hurting, of always being in pain and of always being fucking tired and there are hot tears running down his cheeks that are blending in with the smattering of the rain, but Steve sees. 

He leans further over him, a shield from the rain. “Hey,” he whispers, barely audible over the rumble of thunder. His strong hands wipe at Eddie’s cheeks. “You’re okay. You’re okay, Eddie.”

Steve helps him back to the trailer. He checks to make sure his pink, taught skin still looks okay. He helps him into the shower where he pushes the old water heater to its limit. 

After, he presses sweats he undoubtedly ran through the dryer into Eddie’s hands. He dries Eddie’s hair and braids it because his range of motion is still fucked. He helps him onto the couch and presses a steaming mug into his hands. It smells like chocolate.

“‘M sorry.” Eddie whispers, when Steve sits down next to him. He knows he’s not a good patient. Knows he’s running Wayne ragged and that the man probably feels more at peace working nights at the plant than spending his days with Eddie, knows Steve probably has an easier time at Family Video, hell, playing nurse with Max than playing nurse with Eddie. 

He knows this fucking temper tantrum is probably the last thing Steve wants to be dealing with.

Steve’s hand moves, but it stays at his side.

“Nothing to apologize for,” Steve murmurs back. “‘M just glad I found you.”

Eddie stares down at the drink in his hand, clumps of the hot chocolate powder still floating on its surface.

“I just wanted to feel something different.” He confesses, voice still low, still looking at the clumps of powder swirling in his mug. He feels his face screw up. “Something more than this fucking couch. Than pain.” He takes a sip of the drink, just so he doesn’t start crying again. 

It burns his tongue and his throat as it goes down.

Steve’s hand moves again. It rests on Eddie’s thigh. 

“Eddie.”

He says his name like a full sentence. Like he’s trying to convey a whole lot more than those five letters.

Eddie puts the mug down. 

Steve’s gaze is soft, those big brown eyes searching, again. “C’mere.”

So he does. He crawls into Steve’s space and lets Steve angle his legs and gently twist his hips until he’s wedged between his thighs. He drops his head onto Steve’s shoulder.

Strong arms wrap around him. Fingers wind their way into his hair and scratch at his scalp.

And oh- has he missed this. Missed touch that was beyond medical necessity. Missed hugs and warmth and the feeling of someone else pressed close against him- all of which are scarce commodities when everyone’s afraid their touch will be the thing to split you right open again.

But Steve holds him close. Gently pulls out his hair tie and combs his fingers through Eddie’s wet hair.

Steve’s breath fans over him, the sensation heightened by the dampness of his scalp. Steve’s chest rises and falls as he breathes and the steady thrum of his heart feels tangible against Eddie’s side. 

Eddie exhales, deep and exhausted and, finally, content. “Thank you.” 

Steve’s arms shift around him, wrapping him further in his embrace. “There’s nothing to thank me for.”

Steve holds him until he falls asleep. He holds Eddie until they fall asleep the next night, too. Until the eventual feeling of Steve’s lips on his feels far more familiar than his pain ever did.

[rottentato]

requesting an x reader fic feels so scary

like what if they see my request and go “EWUGH NO YOU’RE A FREAK GET OUT OF MY ASKS YOU WEIRDO UGHH DISGRACE!!!”

[creeper627]

Today I get to go see Stranger Things on Broadway and my mother called my outfit and makeup choices intimidating…I feel so gorgeous now!