#but Steve Harrington is a stubborn bastard

[sabbathbloodysabbeth]

So you guys remember this post that I posted the other day? The one where Eddie makes a deal with Steve to read a book for him? Well I kind of have been working on more for that. (Slowly but surely) and I kind of want to post and get an opinion on this scene I wrote for it, I still have to edit it but for the general idea I was just curious to see if I should I keep it in the oneshot

Eddie had told himself that he wasn't going to pay attention to Steve Harrington after their agreement in the library. But he was never good at holding himself to his own word. Ten minutes after he had left Steve by himself in that aisle, he found himself wandering the school hallways. Specifically near the nurses lounge, where he spends possibly five minutes standing outside of in hopes of hearing Steve inside.

When he realizes he wasn't going to actually know if the king was in there without actually walking in there himself he becomes slightly agitated.

An idea pops into his head when he hears the bell ring, signaling the end of the period and the beginning of the next. He scurries to the side of the hallway, where he can catch every face that passes him. Crossing his arms as he leans back a bit, glancing over faces before finding exactly the one he needs.

He nearly tackles Gareth when he sees the familiar flannel vest. Quickly shoving him in the direction of the nurses office, with some struggle. Enough struggle that the book in his hand was nearly smacked away towards the wall to their right.

"What the hell dude!" Gareth's voice squeaks a bit.

Eddie may have accidentally chosen the wrong trooper for this job. With how much he was concentrated on this singular quest he had forgotten Gareth was one to piss off fairly easy. His nose was already scrunching up and he was already starting to smack Eddie's chest as his face began to match the color of his flannel.

"Eddie what the fuck!" Gareth finally gains some control as he quickly turns around and shoves Eddie backwards and into a couple of passing bystanders.

Awkwardly smiling, Eddie wiggles his fingers apologetically towards the group of kids before he's quickly walking back up to Gareth. Realizing he was going to have to come up with a good excuse as to why he had to go into the nurses office and check to see if Steve Harrington was inside.

Making a whoopsie face Eddie quickly leans forward and plops his hands down on the other's shoulders. "Sorry Gare bear didn't mean to startle you but I need your assistance my kind sir." He tilts his head and bit and hopes that his smile could possibly soften the other's anger. Just enough to receive his help.

Gareth grumbles a bit as he angrily lifts his hands up and squeezes his fists dramatically. As if he was reenacting choking Eddie out. As he angrily growls a bit he then smacks the others hands off from him as he glances down at his watch. Making even angrier noises when the bell goes off again, telling both him and Eddie they were late to their next class.

"This better be fucking good Munson." He growls out a bit before crossing his arms around his chest.

Eddie laughs a bit awkwardly, "Well you see- I kind of need you to walk into the nurses room for me and check to see if Steve Harrington is in there." He puts on his best smile again, but this time it wasn't working nearly as well as before.

Gareth's eyes were starting to do that squinty thing, along with his fists digging into his sides. Eddie's pretty sure that the boys left eye twitches a little.

"Did you seriously just nearly tackle me in the fucking hall way just to get me to check and see if his highness was in the nurses office?" Gareth's voice carry's no tone as he talks, which was not a good sign for Eddie.

"Language young Jedi, do you talk to your mother with that mouth?"

"Eddie!"

"Fine, I may or may not have done that. But it's important, I'll let you do whatever you want with the next character you build." He promises as he brings his hands up. "Scouts honor."

Gareth takes a moment to think before he's grumbling and turning to enter into the nurses office. The bell on the door dings lightly behind him as Eddie carefully starts to pace back and forth down the hallway. Chewing on his nails a bit as he keeps an eye on the door.

Five minutes pass before the door opens again with Gareth holding a hall pass. His face was not as red anymore, and he now had a lolly pop in his mouth.

"So?" Eddie asks impatiently.

"No sign of him," Gareth answers before he adds, "now can I go back to class? Or do you want me to go in there and find out how big his feet are from his file next?" He sasses.

"Oh shut up, and get to class you little asswipe." Eddie grumbles a bit. Mood slightly soured as he realizes the Steve didn't listen to him.

A soft "bitch" is sent his way before Gareth is leaving him by the nurses door.

Eddie swings back to the library, just to make sure that he didn't miss Steve in there. When he realizes there was no use in searching he plops himself down at one of the tables that sat in front of the check out area.

Sulking just a little as he checks the time, seeing he barely had twenty minutes of class left. Deciding that there was no point in going he ends up opening the book from earlier and slowly begins to read the first page.

Yeah sorry to be that guy I just need an opinion and I don’t have any beta readers rn. Also I need help deciding a name for this oneshot oh my god

[eddiernunson]

Ice Cream, Bikinis, and Other Ways to Torture Him | Older Rockstar!Eddie x Harrington Fem!Reader | 18+

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Summary: The stories of Eddie Munson, front man of Corroded Coffin and his music filled the Harrington household, his albums on shelves and picture frames hung of your dad and him, young and dumb. You’re home for the weekend, which just so happens to be the same weekend Eddie is in Hawkins on a personal errand. The longtime crush on him bubbles to the surface as you meet him, giving into the temptation of small summer dresses and bubblegum gloss for the fun of it. Until your dad is called in to an emergency work meeting. Then the fun of torture becomes temptation.

Warnings: Older Rockstar!Eddie, Harrington!Reader (Steve’s daughter), mult-chapter build up, excessive use of nicknames, perv!Eddie, no use of y/n, Eddie POV, references to readers mom, a nice slow build up

Describes: long hair, shorter than Eddie by a few inches, reader is described to look like her mom (can be ANY race) with Steve’s freckles. No skin color or body shape/type.

So the original chapter 4 was a lot shorter than I remember so I combined it with chapter 5 <3

Word count: 7.5k

Chapter 4-Chapter 5

Five weeks ago, as one of his oldest friends asked him what was new, Eddie offhandedly mentioned he would be making his way down to Hawkins sometime during the summer to help Uncle Wayne finally transition into the nursing home.

Steve laughed, jokingly asking how is it that the old bastard isn’t in one already? The answer was pure stubbornness, of course.

It was without question that Steve offered a bed whenever Eddie needed it, tutting away the nonsense of Eddie staying in the 8 Motel off ‘Sketch Valley’, aka where all dark corners Hawkins’ parents have spent their years warning their kids about. Not that it really needed the negative press, as the atmosphere was off putting as it is.

Eddie was grateful, to say the least. After earning some bang for his buck he’s gotten used to a lifestyle and the 8 Motel was the only place in Hawkins that resembled a hotel.

It was impulsively decided the week of Eddie would go and help Wayne move after he reluctantly admitted simple tasks like bathing and making toast was getting harder for him and he could use the help. He called Steve, betting on the welcome being open in any circumstance.

In the heat of the moment Steve accepted, more than happy to help out a friend, give him some place to stay and a soft bed in the middle of packing and figuring out the kinks.

You would think his one second eldest daughter who hadn’t been as nearly stealthy about her crush on the rock star as she thought staying for the weekend would off set his willingness to help, but he’s so eager to help your visit doesn’t even cross his mind. Until you show up, bag in hand, your mom’s smile on your face as you give him a big hug and he realizes this might be trickier than he thought it’d be.

Eddie’s trip is long and painful, many assholes on the road obnoxiously refusing to let him pass, long mindlessly winding roads, the urge to piss after spending long hours passing semis. Wistfully watching those same semis pass him as he hides in the bushes.

When the door opened, Eddie was surprised to see a pair of eyes a few inches shorter than he’d expected, framed by hair in a tousled bun, a bikini top peeking out from a pretty summer dress. The first thought was wow, she fills out her dress a lot better than I remember. The second thought, brought on by the freckles decorating your skin, was oh shit this is Steve’s daughter.

‘Aah, little Harrington’ was a way to remind himself and you that this was off limits. No matter how intoxicating your perfume was, or how inviting the knot tying your bikini top together was. Of course as an evil twist of fate Steve had to be showering when he had arrived only to be greeted by temptation personified, his presence needed as he found it stupid easy to fall in conversation with you, keeping his distance so he didn’t do something stupid.

You offer to grab him something, being a good host, but Eddie needed to tread carefully as he recalls Steve jokingly remarking how you had a small crush on him over the years.

He’ll get over the reminder that you’re now in your 20s, filling out a summer dress and making him wonder what present that string is possibly hiding underneath the thin fabric. He had to.

He denied your offer to make him something.

As your summer dress hit the cement, revealing the just barely there bikini he ripped his eyes away from your glowing skin, reminding himself what he was not there to do. Steve found him sitting on the couch absently strumming Carla, immediately accusing his daughter of not offering any hospitality.

He was out the backdoor before Eddie could even protest. At Steve’s insistence Eddie followed him back into the kitchen, forced to sit on the island as he worked at making a hot meal for him. Answering the basic how are you questions was easy, the hardest part was keeping his eyes off you through the still opened double doors.

It became impossible when the plate was set in front of him as Steve left the room to bring Eddie’s bags to the guest room.

The image of you gliding through the pool, droplets scattered on your shimmering skin as your legs broke through the water’s surface tension was alluring in a way that only depleted his appetite for lunch.

His one saving grace to prevent him from making any stupid decisions was Steve’s presence. Until it was gone. Fuck, Steve! Out of all possible weekends to have a work emergency you had to pick this one?

He wished he could forget how gentle you were with his things, how forgiving you were to his dorky heart in ways he himself was still so hard himself about. The teasing tone in your voice tugged at his heart strings and low in his stomach, taking him back repeatedly through the long day of packing.

Your tentative touch along his old doodling, listening to him about his favourite Dark Fantasy Novels, the knowledge about his old adventures, the questions you had asked about Wayne…everything you had dared to say only drew you closer to him.

It was a delicious taste of irony, how Eddie had told himself not to let the close proximity get to him but it turned out to be your curious nature and caring touch that made Eddie drawn to you like a moth to a flame, suddenly craving more intimacy.

The unbearable heat of the following day allowed him to gaslight himself into believing it was all circumstantial, but your tiny gym shorts and the sweat glistening along your skin had invited him, called out to him, before he knew it he had invited himself along on your walk.

Ice cream and a joint had sounded really good, finding himself in too deep when he took a deep nhale of the smoke just to smell your sweat still lingering in the grass, deliberately allowing his fingers to brush against yours.

A sweet whiff of your sweat lingered in the grassy stench, the majority reason for his deep inhale as the smoke filled his lungs. It hit the spot, smirking as he handed it over back to you, letting his fingers linger as a jolt of electricity ran right through him.

He found it too easy to fall into conversation with you, teasing and poking and finding a thrill out of the V that so easily formed between your brows. Found it even easier to use so much as his hand on your shoulder to fix your gait as you start to drift to the right or catch your wrist when you nearly nose dive.

He thought you must be trying to kill him when the smoke blew in his face, wanting to return the favor by planting his lips on yours and exhaling his next turn right to your lungs. The following sound you would’ve let out haunted Eddie, just the potential alone releasing an ache in his gut that he hasn’t felt in years.

He watched in real time as you lost your inhibitions, stumbling over your feet and repeating sentences and losing your train of thought. He wondered if you had felt your skin also ablaze when he kept finding the excuse to let your skin connect. At first it was just an excuse, soon became a necessity once you nearly nose dived, catching your wrist.

You seemed to barely notice.

He’d never quite felt jealousy as intense as it was when you mentioned your ex boyfriend, a concerning level of relief taking over him when he’d realized how little you even cared he was there, too distracted by the ice cream.

Eddie went through a world wind of emotions when you’d started lapping your tongue all over the sweet treat, humming delight at the taste and completely disregarding any present company.

He almost lost his mind when you had admitted your ex had only been mediocre with you in bed. The mental spiral he had gone through was swift and winded him, wondering how if anyone would be lucky enough to find themselves in such a position would they manage to mess it up so royally? Knowing if he’d ever give in to that most primal of desires of his, he’d take advantage of any possible moment he’d have between your thighs, make it his mission to have your legs shiver and shake for him.

He’d lap every drop of arousal you’d give him, taking every whine and moan as gospel, eager and willing to give you everything, craving the taste of you on his tongue, to watch you squirm and for him- it sent all the blood from his brain to his dick.

His spiral is squished, the fucker’s hand suddenly tight on your skin, audaciously demanding he have another trial in mediocrity. It was too easy to bend his arm backward, nearly breaking it in the process as he found great joy in how quickly his tough guy macho front collapsed.

Luckily, you forgot about it like it never happened. Unluckily, you made it your goddamn mission to eat the ice cream as erotically as you possibly could. Eddie didn’t even think you were aware of the drops on your tits, watching as you indulge so eagerly, all your slurps and hums of satisfaction going straight to his cock.

God damn the angel that had decided to fuck with him that day, the one that had told you to spend an ungodly amount of time cleaning up the ice cream which didn’t help had the same colour as a certain substance.

You’ve gone quiet as he is, but he starts to worry that maybe he overstepped or made you uncomfortable. That worry only intensified when you admit you’ve smoked way past your own limit, wondering if he had somehow pushed you into smoking more. He needs you to know its ok to listen to yourself, lifting your chin to look up to him— and fuck he takes in your beautiful face up close.

Eddie convinced himself he fucked up worse when you run off.

As he strums his guitar, the chords and melodies come out all jumbled as the nagging worry only grows. He can usually hear your shower from downstairs but the stream hasn’t started yet. Oh god, what if you’ve greened out? You didn’t smoke very much but he had no idea where that boundary for you was.

You could’ve been normally done after three puffs for all he knew. Maybe he’ll just go check on you, the incessant need to make sure you’re okay after withdrawing as hard as you did eating his brain away.

His knuckles nearly collide with the door when he first hears it.

He’s not sure what exactly he’s hearing until he hears it again, clearer and far more distinct.

Oh.

You weren’t going for a shower.

Eddie stops breathing. In the middle of the hallway, he doesn’t allow himself to move a muscle, two halves of a whole person fighting within himself.

He should move. He should put his ear against the door. He should put some pressure on this aching cock of his. He should offer you help. He should leave.

Your moans are intertwined with sighs and whimpers, no words to indicate anything and Eddie goes nuts wanting to see you.

What are you doing? Are you using your fingers in that tight little pussy of yours? Overstimulating your clit? Using a vibrator— no, he doesn’t hear any buzzing… A choked out swear passes through your lips, god those soft pillowy lips he just wants to spend hours kissing.

Images flash through his brain, your tongue wrapped around the ice cream, the drips landing on your tits you didn’t notice, your doe eyes staring up at him through your lashes— Eddie keels over, grasping at the frame of your door as he finally relieves some of the pent up pressure. Fuck—its not enough.

Your moaning has gotten louder, lost in the pleasure you’re giving yourself. Fuck, he wonders what has gotten you so worked up. Are you picturing anyone with you? Is it a side effect of the weed you smoked? Are you driven mad by him like he is by you? As it gets louder he realizes…oh fuck you’re about to— Jesus.

He hopes he has the privilege of seeing you go over the edge one of these days.

He thinks its over for a moment but you start again…and now Eddie really can’t help it anymore he has to fuck…he hisses loudly when his cock finally comes in contact with his hand, the head flushed with a bright red tint.

No wonder he’s being so careless, all the blood is gone from his brain.

For the first time since apprehensively seeing your nipples peaked from behind your adorable little bikini at the front door he allows himself to imagine himself with you with his hand around himself. He imagines its him, Eddie, making you whine as much as you are, the desperate whines and pathetic little cries coming from you the result of him situated between your legs and fucking you with his tongue.

It would taste better than the ice cream did, he knows it would.

His hand flexes, wishing he could play and grope your tit, watch how the you react to him tweaking your nipple playfully. Fuck— did you just cum again?

“Oh fucking hell!” You swear, not sounding in the least bit tired.

All the needs, the questions Eddie has been masochistically asking himself has him being needy, whispering out little pleases as he needs to touch you, to see you, to know what the hell is on your mind. “Please, please, baby, please, ‘need to see that hot fucking body wiggle and curl and shake and fuck please let it be for me. I want it to be for me.”

Eddie has never been so desperate that he needed something like this, more stoned off the moans that fill the halls rather than the joint he shared with you. It was like he was only a step away from his lips on yours, but that little allowance he gave himself earlier is no longer enough, needing your lips to be carnally captured by his, to hear the whimper you let out when he bites your bottom lip, to lick the swollen sting in an apology.

God he can’t remember the last time the thought of someone like this made him this viscerally desperate. Your moans grow louder, on the precipice of yet another orgasm and suddenly Eddie finds himself hurdling towards the finish line. “Come on baby, one more. Cum one more time for me. Let me hear you, just one more time, please.”

As if his wish was your command, you push over the edge in what sounds like an earth shattering, thigh twitching, eyes rolling orgasm. He’s willing to bet you made a mess on your bed, quaking limbs and gasping after shocks as you wear a prettily stupid smile on your face and turn over your sheets to look for your phone.

Eddie grips the door frame, staring at the sticky substance on his hands he wishes you’d lick up the same way you did with the ice cream soup. For now…he’ll wash it off.

As he shakily washes his hands, he finally reaches his eyes in his reflection, knowing that was the only time he’d let himself indulge in the fantasy you’re practically serving to him on a silver platter.

Twenty minutes later, you come down glowing, a bright smile on your face with wet hair and a new summer dress that has his hands itching to rake all over you. It takes five minutes of contemplating for Eddie to realize that this is what you look like after really good sex. He’s rock hard again, and you’re wearing too much clothes.

He’s flushed at your uncharacteristically good attitude, at the knowledge if you were his you’d be this upbeat all the time if he had anything to do with it.

You ask him if he wants pizza, smiling sweetly when he boops your nose and accept graciously. As the dress sways across the top of your thigh while you walk into the living room, Eddie lets out a small grunt as his forehead meets the cool marble counter.

He’s fucked.

-

The mouthwatering smell of pepperoni and green peppers with sausage made your good mood only increase, after effects of the joints and three orgasms now combined with the pizza turning your sour mood to euphoric. The sun still beats down in a horrid, blazing heat, but for now these things outweigh the muggy outdoors.

You slip the driver some cash, multitasking as you open the box simultaneously to take the first bite. You suffer through the first bite, much too hot as the driver compliments the front foyer in the Harrington house. The door shuts on him as you thank him, Eddie glowering at his wandering eyes over your shoulder that you missed through the entire interaction.

Eddie grabs the boxes from you, cheekily grinning as he insists you must be trying to hurt yourself. You shrug playfully, grinning through the bites that are still much too hot but oh so delicious.

His grin feels looser, more playful, something you wonder if its just a Jedi mind trick.

His hips collide with yours as he goes to grab a plate, serving himself some of his own pizza, (cheddar, chicken, and mushrooms) his hand lingering on your hip as he leans over to steal a piece from your pie, too.

“Who said you could have some of mine?” You ask, reaching for the piece to snatch it back.

He yanks it from your reach, his pretty dimples plain as day as you jump with no such success. “Is that really the best you can do?”

You scoff, jaw dropping as you reach for it again. “It’s easy for you to say when you’ve got—“ you huff, the piece just out of reach, “—3 or 4 inches on me at least.”

One side of Eddie’s pink lips curl up in a playful snarl, “Oh, more than that, I promise.”

You stop jumping, eyes going wide at the innuendo. “Fine, you can have it.”

“Didn’t ask for permission, but I appreciate it anyway, sweetheart,” he winks, taking a big bite from it. Ok, eating pizza should not be this sexy, you muse, watching the tomato sauce spill over his lips, and the tongue that pokes out to lap it up.

His cologne is back to overwhelming your nostrils, enveloping you in a sweet musky scent as you reach to grab some more slices for your plate.

“You know you can have some of mine,” he’s leant in, his voice low and hot breath right next to your ear sending a well defined shiver down your spine.

Your face twists in disgust as you glance at it, reaching for the garlic fingers, instead. “No thanks.”

He laughs, eyebrows raised inquisitively. “What?”

“Not a fan of mushrooms,” you shrug, moving around him for a soft drink. “Soda?”

“You’re missing out,” he insists, taking a big bite out of a particularly mushroomy piece. “Sure, sweets.”

Yesterday Eddie hadn’t gotten closer to you than necessary, always staying at least one pace away from you. Suddenly he’s in your space, leaning in and choking you with his velvet voice and overwhelming presence. That walk must’ve done really well in terms of familiarity, remembering how easy going he usually is with your dad.

“Rent a movie with me?” You ask, nodding your head toward the living room.

“As long as it’s horror and something you’ve never seen before,” he barters, picking up his plate as if he was already planning on joining you.

“Ooh, can we watch Smile?” You flick the tv to on Demand, showing rental options of movies that have just come out.

“Oh no, sweetheart,” Eddie easily grabs the remote from your grasp, switching the screen to Horror movies in stead . “It has to be something I have seen. Meaning I’m showing you a Classic. You ever seen The Poltergeist?”

You blanch, shaking your head quickly.

Laughs bubble up his throat, watching how worried your face immediately becomes in a split second. “Don’t worry. We can shut it off if it gets too much, but it’s just such a Classic.”

You roll your eyes, suddenly remembering he’s in his 40s. “Yeah, it came out when you were dropping out of college.”

He flicks your temple, huffing out a laugh at your yelp. “Shithead. Now sit and watch.”

You get comfortable, bringing the ice cold soda can to your lips as the movie turns on, increasingly aware of his presence on the couch next to you.

It was a fucking scary movie, but his consistent explanations made it worth it.

The temperature ended up cooling overnight, allowing for a deep sleep while a single top sheet frayed over your body, delicately protecting it as you sleep well into the morning. You barely remember falling asleep on the couch last night, the memory of Eddie waking you and escorting you to your bed replaying through your mind as you hug your knees and hide your wide smile against your kneecap.

His hand on your waist, thumb swaying against your cotton shirt as he asked how it is that someone manages to fall asleep during The Poltergeist, huffing out a laugh at the subsequent pout that took over your face. His low voice asked if you needed any water, his hand pausing right before it gently caressed your hairline as you drifted asleep.

The hot spray of the shower was just what you needed, doing your best not to over analyze his sudden closeness as you let the steam fill your bathroom. The too small towel barely covers the good bits as you walk towards your bedroom door, water beads scattered across your skin from your damp hair that you probably should’ve spent more time drying.

Not your fault your sister had a nicer en-suite shower than you did.

You’re only a few paces from your bedroom door when you hear what sounds like someone choking, followed by a coughing fit. You whip around to face Eddie covering his mouth with his elbow, hacking as he raises his finger to indicate he’s fine. You couldn’t be sure, but when he lowers his arm it looks like there’s a faint blush across his cheeks.

“Sorry! I was coming to check up on you it’s almost 1’clock in the afternoon,” he coughs, anxiously avoiding your stare as you stand still holding your towel up clenched in one fist. “So-sorry I’ll let you get back to it.”

You smile, taking advantage of his sudden nervous stature, looking suddenly a few inches shorter than he normally does. “You’ve seen me less in a bikini,” you deadpan, missing the way the towel slowly starts to reveal your hips and Eddie’s eyes zoning in on it.

“Right. In any case I made you lunch, if you’re up for it that is,” he tells you, clearing his throat as he plays with the scrunchie on his wrist.

“I thought rockstars all sleep in,” you joke, tilting your head as you look at him.

“I lost the ability to last year,” he quips back, smirking. “You also went to bed last night at 2 so it’s nearly been twelve hours, forgive me if I thought I had the merit to be concerned.”

“The merit?” You can’t resist it, his squirminess as you just stand in a towel is so entertaining you could burst, not even attempting to hide the wide smile on your face.

“I made god damned grilled cheese and tomato soup for you and this is how you repay me?” He exclaims, one pierced eyebrow rising. “Guess you don’t want it.”

“No!” You protest, your fun suddenly forgotten. God, how’d he know your favorite lunch? “Give me five, maybe ten minutes.”

“I’m timing you on that,” Eddie points to his watch, something probably more subtly expensive than you could guess. “9 minutes and counting!”

Eddie climbs down the stairs, finally able to take a deep breath at the bottom as he braces his hands on his knees. The image of you flashed through his mind, the towel hugging your tits pressing up against them perfectly to knock the wind out of him. As if that weren’t enough, the slit of your towel where at first your leg alone was peeking out became wider and wider, slowly revealing the droplets that still lingered on your skin, finding himself envious of water as it trailed down to where he couldn’t see, hands flexing as he wanted to trace that very pattern.

You apparently made no effort with the towel before making your way over to your bedroom because you were still soaked from your shower, hundreds of little droplets covering your skin, some trailing down from your still soaked hair. It was ethereal, watching the shine of your collarbone and that slow rising reveal of your hips.

Damn. Eddie can’t remember the last time he’s been hard twice within the same four hours. Morning wood is typical, though more uncommon these days, but a damn collarbone? Is he back in goddamn high school?

The temptation to retreat back to his guest room to relieve himself is too much, but for whatever reason he can’t bring himself to. Distraction…distraction.

Something that caught his eyes during his first day suddenly flashed through his mind, a mess of twigs and leaves and branches that has obviously gone years without any maintenance. By the time you get downstairs in yet another stunning summer dress, Eddie has found an old pair of gardening gloves and has already filled one large black garbage bag, already well on to fill a second one.

His hair is done in a loose bun that has already started to come undone, his tongue sticking out as he tries to pull apart one branch off to break the larger branch down into continuously smaller pieces. He has taken advantage of the Bluetooth speaker Steve keeps for the outdoors, blasting music reminiscent of many backyard sunny afternoons swimming and playing and tussling for hours.

His toned arms are practically bulging as he continues the yard work, glistening in a sheen layer of sweat in the hot sun, as he continually gathers weeds and the straggler branches that have blown into the fire pit over the years.

The fire pit is extremely overgrown due to lack of use, the regular use of the pit gone down significantly once your older sister moved out, no longer taking advantage of the extravagant backyard for major parties. You never had interest in hosting any parties, the clean up for the host not worth it in your humble opinion. Steve continued to hire one of the few pool boys available in Hawkins for the outdoor pool, but also saw no need to continue the maintenance of the pit.

By the time you had put the bowl and plate away in the dishwasher, Eddie had already cleared most of the fire pit and was deep in the shed, from the sounds and swears he was making it was clear he was looking for something.

You were sitting on your favorite poolside chair with a good book and some cut up watermelon you stole from the fridge when Eddie comes out pushing the lawnmower, arms fully extended as he struggles through the admittedly tall grass. A gush of watermelon juice runs down your chin as he wipes his forehead and bends to assess the machine, admiring how his hands gently rub any debris or dust that has collected over the years.

As soon as the loud motor of the lawn mower fills the backyard, it drowns the music so you turn it up on the speakers, reciprocating the single handed wave Eddie gives you in either gratitude or acknowledgement. Even with the pages of the filthy smut filled book opened, your eyes don’t stay on the pages for any longer than a second. It takes for Eddie to go from fence to fence (in a stupidly large backyard) twice for you to read a full paragraph that would usually have you on the edge of your seat.

Sorry, two characters who have finally brought their heads out of their asses and admitted their own feelings and are subsequently hooking up in a place they should not be hooking up with, Eddie Munson’s sweaty biceps are taking front row. You swallow a dry throat, the concept of water suddenly flashing through your stupid head.

You’ve been watching Eddie do manual labour in a hot sun for the better part of an hour now and he’s probably parched. You run off indoors, the air conditioned house tingling as you feel each and every goose bump that forms, looking through the fridge for something, you’re not sure.

For one moment you consider grabbing the lemonade powder from the cupboard, though that might be too on the nose. You scoop the neck of a beer bottle, dripping in condensation and the second tub of watermelon, your sandals flapping loudly until you reach the grass again, meeting him as he fills the garbage bag with the cut grass.

“Need some hydration?” You call out, holding the glass bottle to him.

“Oh, Jesus, thank you,” he sighs, tipping back the bottle, his adam’s apple deliciously bobbing as he engulfs it.

“Should’ve brought something non-alcoholic, if you’re gonna down it that quickly,” you mutter, licking your lips as you watch some of it spill and drip down his chin.

“Nah, beer’s perfec-hey, watermelon, fuck, perfect.” He grabs a larger piece from the tupperware in your other hand,one that by the time he rushes into his mouth has already begun to drip down his fingers, wrist, and forearm. When your eyes flicker back up to his face, he’s already messily chewing on the watermelon, the pink juice flowing down his chin. As he enjoys the juice that is supposedly bursting onto his tastebuds.

Eddie Munson eats slowly, he enjoys every possible second of what he eats. Not an ounce goes to waste, if he can help it from the stickiness to his thumb to the drool on his chin, he takes it all in. It drives you mental with sudden lust, squeezing your thighs together as he goes in for more watermelon. How has the pure erotic connotation of this fruit completely evaded your mind? You might as well have given him chocolate covered strawberries, you slut.

Every piece is worse than the last one, it’s like he’s purposely driving you completely mad with hormones and blinding any sense of logic you might have, your toes curling as he slowly makes his way through the chunks.

“You want some?” Eddie offers, quickly shaking you out of your trance.

You clear your throat, gesturing to the empty tub right next to your chair. “Oh, I already had a tub. Did you promise my dad you would perform free labor for a free weekend at his house, because that’s extortion, you know.”

He laughs, in the middle of taking a sip that quickly turns into a coughing fit. “No, believe it or not, I’m crazy enough to be doing this of my own free will. I also happen to have a lot of experience in landscaping.”

Your lips purse, your eyebrows furrowing as you attempt to recall any mentioning of landscaping in any magazine article or one of your dad’s many stories.

“I mowed lawns around town,” he deadpans, chuckling when he sees it click. “I also mowed lawns around LA when I first arrived. It paid for a few amps, some recording studio time, groceries. Working at the record store only paid so much, you know?”

You nod, grabbing one piece and ‘cheersing’ when he offers, picturing young Eddie Munson who’s still unknown, overworking himself to the bone so that he and his band could one day, hopefully make it. The long hours, the sore feet, the stress of hoping and working, it pinches at your heart, squeezing it but his face doesn’t give away any of the negative feelings that comes from working so hard for so long with such bare results.

He’s looking at it from a lens of nostalgia, how eager he was to learn, the eyerolls of his customers who overpaid him to simply trim their lawn at his answer ‘musician’ when they asked him what he did for work. How across those same lawns its a party trick. Eddie Munson once cut my father’s lawn in the summer of 91, true story.

Half those people he’s probably never met, but he’s willing to be someone’s little white lie, after all he dreamed about days like these.

“I considered getting into the pool cleaning business but it was too much to learn and too many bored moms looking for a fantasy in their pool boys. I’m good, I just needed the money. I heard that lost it’s merit after three.”

“Who’d you learn that from?” You grin, seeing a twinkle in his eye.

He laughs again, chewing on some more of the pink juicy fruit you couldn’t help but watch carefully.”Gareth,” he muses, speaking of his band’s drummer who bores a sick goatee and once blonde long locks he chopped off a few years ago much to the dismay of many fangirls. “He said it was the best gig ever then took it (and his gear) back the following week.”

From what you know about their band and their quirks, that sounds like Gareth.

“I’m gonna get back to it. I should be done at least the brunt of it in an hour or so. Do me a favor and keep checking me out, it’s doing numbers for my already large ego,” he winks, taking the final sip of his beer.

You go speechless, your mouth that was once somewhat hydrated from the melon now cotton dry. “I was-I was not–”

“I was teasing you, sweetheart. But hey me thinks the lady doth protest too much”

“I didn’t even protest!” you argue, bearing your forearms toward him feeling like you’re in the middle of a performance with how amazingly dramatic and tense the situation has become.

“Oh, no, you couldn’t even speak,” Eddie smirks, leaning over to yank on the cord of the machine, drowning out your argument.

Not like anything’ll happen, anyway, you shrug, walking back over to your book.

Sometime in the later afternoon after you help Eddie put all the garbage bags at a hidden corner of the yard, he decides to go in for a shower, his stinky musk acting as a strong pheromone.

You don’t even notice him come back down, sat on the cool couch indoors as the filthy scene has finally caught your attention. The character is overcoming her first orgasm and bewildered when her love interest goes in for more when your flow is interrupted by Eddie, as bag of marshmallows between his gritted teeth and cradling a few more indecipherable ingredients as he nods toward the outside.

When you hit the backyard the outdoor string of lights has been turned on, two chairs by the fire in the pit one with a blanket, soft rock music on in the background as Eddie puts down all the ingredients.

“Wh-what is this?” You ask him as your heart pounds in your chest hard.

“I uh–” he clears his throat, biting his thumb, “I just thought we could enjoy this fire pit that has spent so many years feeling useless. Let’s give it a night of change.”

“You cleaned out the fire pit because you felt sorry for it?” You clarify, shooting a pointed glance toward him.

“Not in so many words,” he reframes, scratching his neck. “Though I thought it must be jealous of his neighbor for still getting maintained all these years.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you muse, staring up at his brown eyes that don’t reach yours. “And sweet,” you add, biting back giggles when he breaks into a smile. “I’m sure our fire pit would love a night where he’s the center of attention again.”

“He?” Eddie points out, the eyebrow piercing hitting the sunset as they meet his hairline.

“You’re the one who said it must be jealous” you point out, walking over to the chair with the blanket.

As soon as your thighs hit the chair, Eddie wastes no time. “So, What was your dad’s opinion of what was it, Mark? Matthew?”

“Andy,” you mend, not caring if even got the name wrong.Getting the first letter wrong somehow made you feel better, as Andy was barely a blip on your radar as far as your weekend goes. “And he hated him. Tried to hide it, didn’t do a very good job of it, though.”

“Your dad has hated many boyfriends from what I can remember,” Eddie mutters, legs crossed as he stares right into the fire. The fire makes his brown eyes look brazenly dashing and a little on the wild side.

“My sisters and I didn’t all have the best track record of boys in high school,” you admit, suddenly feel the elephant in the room, or yard, that is your age difference that still has yet to be discussed. “College boys are even worse, honestly.”

“Men aren’t much better,” Eddie shakes his head, squinting comically.

“I think there’s a few good ones out there,” you mutter, only staring straight into the fire. “But back to my dad. Andy in specifically I think was his least favorite in the bunch because they just butted heads, all the time.”

“Why stay with a guy like that for two years?” Eddie asks. You look at him, having answered a question that feels accusatory from anyone else with defensiveness. The need to defend the seventeen year old girl dies in your throat when you see his expression, complete curiosity. “Expert in gaslighting and lovebombing and making an insult feel like a compliment. God all the time I wasted on him feeling like I wasn’t good enough–” you sigh, shaking yourself out of it. “Looking back it’s a parade of red flags.”

“Everything in hindsight,” Eddie amends, colliding his shoulder with yours as an act of comfort. “Sorry to bring it up he just seemed–he bothered me.”

“Acting like he’s too smart for college is so like him,” you admit, shaking your head. “What a dick.”

Eddie bursts out in laughter, handing you a cold opened beer bottle. Usually you turn down the wheaty drink if you can, but for his kindness and grand gesture you bring the bottle to your lips anyway after cheersing with him.

He’s in the middle asking about how you think you will do once you continue into your fifth year of college working towards your masters in psychology when the playlist shuffles into a song by Corroded Coffin, one of the only genuine love songs the band has ever produced.

“I love this song,” you muse, swaying to the start of a luck struck tale. It speaks of a girl at 18, wild smiles and pretty eyes meeting a boy of 19, lost and alone and aimless.

“I bet you do,” Eddie smiles, no malice behind his words.

You jerk, sending him the silent question of why?

“You really don’t know?” He asks, leaning back in his chair with wide eyes when you confirm. “Huh.”

“What?” You ask, staring to hum along when the upbeat chorus comes along, just two kids in a crazy world, how simple can this be just a boy and a girl, softly smiling at the hook and title of the song. “What?”

“I wrote this song about your parents,” Eddie mutters, looking off past the fire. “I started writing it early on in their relationship but only realized I’d release it when your dad proposed. I knew when he met her that she was the one for him.”

You smile, only vague memories of your mom flittering around in your mind, mostly hospital visits and playing cards with her and your siblings as she wore a beautiful vivid scarf on her head. “I didn’t know that,” the pressure that builds behind your eyes blurs the orange flames, the bridge suddenly making far too much sense and wondering how you’ve never connected it before.

Or why no one has ever told you.

“You okay?” Eddie asks, the beer bottle pausing on the way to his lips.

“I’m okay,” you smile, one stupid tear breaking free on the last chorus. “Just taken aback.”

“I’m sorry if I–” he starts, his voice drowning in remorse.

“It’s ok,” you nod, taking a sip of the alcohol to kill some of the grief you felt. “Really. Can we talk about something else now?”

He nods, walking around the fire to a few things you still haven’t noticed, pokey sticks. He sheathes a marshmallow on one of the prongs followed by another, hanging the pokey to you carefully. “S’more?”

You grin, nodding as you grab it from him and ignoring the warmth from his fingers brushing against yours gives you. “I suppose. Although it seems we are ignoring our dinner,” you joke, pointing out the hot dogs he also brought out.

“Dinner schminner,” Eddie dismisses, sitting back down. “We have s’mores, instead.”

“You’re a terrible influence,” you accuse, resting the stick on the edge of the pit. “Wait til my father hears about this,” you mutter in your best british accent, terribly butchering it.

“First of all,” Eddie huffs, unable to hold in his laughter. “That was the worst English accent I’ve ever heard in my life. That sucked.” Your fists collides with his knee, barking out laughter at his ‘ow!’ “Hey! I’m roasting marshmallows here, careful, it’s a very delicate process!”

“You deserved that, even if it’s true you just made me cry and now I’m emotionally vulnerable. I could’ve very well burst into tears from your insult!” You can’t even take yourself seriously, bursting into giggles by the halfway point. “Okay, what was second of all?”

“I don’t like to brag but I once met Daniel Radcliffe at one of my shows,” he shrugs, as if it were no big deal, failing to hide how gleeful it t ruly made him feel.

“First, you seem like the type of person who loves to brag, second, you seem very excited about it and I’m not at all jealous you got to meet him. He seems so cool and genuine.”

“That’s just the thing, he really is that cool and genuine and it was the most bizarre thing,” Eddie shakes his head, twirling the stick around. “The most random of people come to our shows and I’m always shocked when they say they like us because it still feels so unreal.”

“Twenty some odd years and it still feels like a dream?” You ask, watching a look of bewilderment take over his face that could never be faked. “That’s really cool, oh shit.” You tug in your marshmallows, one of them extra crispy as you blow out the flame. “Fuck,” you mutter, having hated burnt marshmallows.

“Wanna trade? I love the burnt ones,” Eddie grins, holding out the perfectly golden brown mallows.

You rapidly nod, biting on your bottom lip.

Its a struggle to get the gooey treats onto the chocolates and graham crackers, neither of you having the foresight to unwrap the damn things before roasting the star pieces of the treats. Eddie takes the trouble all in good stride, laughing as one of yours almost falls off the prong before he can get the graham cracker ready.

The first one of yours is already done by the time he sits with his own, having insisted he didn’t need help and to go fucking sit down already.

“How are they?” He takes a bite, nodding in approval before you can answer.

“Really good,” you hum, your voice muffled in chocolatey gooyness as your fingers continue to get sticky.

“Hmm, yeah that hits the stuff,” he appreciates, wet smacking as he works through his s’more so quickly you’re not even sure he was chewing. “Oh, just what I needed after a long day of yard work.”

“You did that voluntarily,” you remind him, taking alas the final taste of a delicious s’more. It might’ve been the best damn one you’ve ever had.

“Guess I just needed a reminder of what a long day of hard work looks like,” he shrugs, pausing in his bites as something crosses his mind. The thought goes away just as quickly, continuing to finish off his s’more.

The sun has nearly disappeared into the horizon, a beautiful dark blue starting to overhaul the once crystal. The conversation dwindles down, the loud crack of the fire pit and background music filling the air instead.

You think it’s the perfect ending to your days spent together.

Until.

‘“I have a stupid idea.” He says, his knee knocking yours.

“Hmm?” you ask, hazy from your third beer.

“In the mood for a swim?”

-

Thank you so much for reading! Remember replies and reblogs are the best way to support fic writers on tumblr!

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I can’t wait for y’all to read the next ch

I post each part every Thursday, the taglist is still open <3

[atmilliways]

(Directly inspired by Eddie and Jeff’s friendship dynamic in this, which is much lighter and sweeter than what’s about to follow.)

What if a fic where all the Upside Down shit happens and Eddie lives, and Steve actually seems to be interested in him which is insane… but Chrissy died. Eddie and Jeff bonded over their nerd-on-jock crushes for all of high school, he can’t just get his guy when Jeff’s crush is dead.

So, with much angst and pining, Eddie withdraws. He stops flirting with Steve or responding to him much at all, just one-word answers to questions until Steve gives up on asking. (Which takes a while, the hot stubborn bastard.) And then it hurts too much to hang out with the entire group, because Steve is always there on the outskirts, watching him like a kicked puppy. He still sees Nancy regularly (because she’s even more stubborn than Steve) and by extension Jonathan and Argyle, but Robin drifts off, siding with Steve.

The kids are divided: Mike sticks by Eddie, Lucas and Erica stick by Steve, Will and El try to remain neutral because they never really knew Eddie to begin with but obviously lean more team Steve, and Max is just pissed at both of them for being idiots. Dustin tries to be there for both of them, but it’s such an obvious strain that Eddie starts pulling back from him too, telling himself he’s giving the kid a break. (Part of it, too, is that Dustin can’t help talking about his favorite people and doesn’t always catch himself in time to avoid giving Eddie anecdotal updates about Steve. He tells himself that by absenting himself, he’s sparing Steve from the same thing.)

Eddie is miserable, but he can’t admit why any more than he can break the NDAs and risk the government taking it all back—his pardon, his diploma, the brick and mortar house, the money that means Wayne doesn’t have to work himself to the bone anymore or worry about Eddie having to deal to help make ends meet.

And Jeff isn’t stupid. He notices, and he can guess why, and a few vague references to Harrington that make Eddie’s face do this awful, awful thing only confirms it.

It takes a long time, but Jeff manages to convince Eddie that he has his blessing. And then it’s another month of wallowing and calling Nancy at inappropriate hours to freak out about how much he’s ruined everything—but she seems to think he still has a chance with Steve.

So eventually, Eddie walks up to Steve’s front door in his best jeans, clutching a bouquet of sunflowers and trying not to sweat through his shirt even though it’s spring again and still nippy out, hoping against hope that his high school crush will let him inside.

[steddie-fanfic-recs]

Eat Your Heart Out

by queerofthedagger

Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Characters: Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington, Robin Buckley, The Party (Stranger Things) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Post-Season/Series 03, Pre-Season/Series 04, Unresolved Sexual Tension, so much UST, Eventually Resolved Sexual Tension, Falling In Love, Mutual Pining, Bad Flirting, Idiots in Love, Bisexual Eddie Munson, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Once again this isn't plot relevant but relevant to me so, Explicit Sexual Content, Angry Kissing, Hand Jobs, First Time Blow Jobs, Light Angst, Fluff, Don't copy to another site Words: 10,500 Chapters: 1/1

Summary

And the thing is, Eddie knows that this is a one-time anomaly. That Harrington is going to get into his car and drive his gaggle of unlikely kids home, and somewhere along that trajectory, the world will stumble back on its axis, one where Steve Harrington does not flirt with Eddie Munson, creating inside jokes and smiling smiles edged with affection. The thing is, Eddie has never learned restraint when it comes to the things he’s greedy for. --- Eddie knows that Steve's into him. He knows that Steve knows that Eddie is into him, too. Now it's only a question of who will give in first. Fortunately, Eddie's the most stubborn bastard in Hawkins, so it's not going to be him. Unfortunately, it might not actually be that simple.

[officerrrfriendly]

The Taken, 'All I Think About Now'

stranger things conjuringAU! priest!steve harrington x demonologist/clairvoyant!fem reader.

"And what did he say?" you poke nervously, leaning forward into your desk as you await a reply from the timid girl in front of you.

"Well he...uhh...okay so-agh," she groans, shaking her head before continuing "you're not gonna be pleased with me, well- you'll be pleased with me but not my answer to your current query-"

"Just spit it out, Robin." you shoot her a suspicious glare as you wait for her reply. She looks like she is about to explode into a poof of smoke, her face red and flustered with heat.

"He's on his way right now andhewouldn'tletmereplysoi-"

"WHAT?!" you would openly admit to anybody who asked that perhaps, at that moment- you had been unnecessarily loud and angry at poor, nervous Robin...who now stood frozen before you, eyes wide and fearful. She tries to ease your stress by joking "I would say April fools but you know boss, it's October!!...that and I'm not really kidding but- he's coming over because he's worried about you! isn't that sweet? yeah? that's...okay that's not- yeah that's clearly not helping you." she rambles, pacing back and forth around the room whilst you spin in your chair to look at yourself in the mirror behind you.

You almost gasped, an army of rollers currently situated themselves within your hair, a booger-green clay face mask piled thick onto your face and an ugly curtain-like patterned robe tied tightly around your waist, covering your person.

"Okay...this is-okay," you take deep, regulated breaths -just like your therapist had recommended - and turn to face your very apprehensive assistant once more, you question "Did he say when he was coming?"

DING-DONG!!

"About that..." Robin retorts, high-pitched as ever. She grimaces, bracing herself before you even respond.

"FUCK!!"

.•.•

You move at an inhuman speed as you scrub the clay mask off your face, not pausing to take any breaths. "Get off of my face, slimy bastard." you groan, using the flannel (or washcloth) to get the remaining contents off of your face, scrubbing with an endless amount of vigour.

Fortunately, it worked. You pat your face dry using the towel hanging on the rack beside you and quickly make work of removing the rollers sitting pretty in your hair. You knew you only had so much time to do so, as Robin could only distract him for so long. Ignoring the aching pain of ripping out the rollers from your head, you are onto the last one. This is the moment where you consciously decide that luck, is indeed not on your side today. It gets stuck, deeply embedded into the archives of your head. "Oh fuck!" you shout, slamming your hand on the bathroom sink.

The loud noise could be heard from the lower floor of the house, where Father Steve stood in the doorway whilst Robin rambled on about something he stopped paying attention to about ten minutes ago.

He immediately panics, as the loud shout is met with a deafening silence after. Politely moving himself past the dazed assistant in front of him he begins to run vigorously up the stairs without an ounce of hesitancy. He reaches the top of the stairs and calls out your name anxiously.

'Great, just fucking great' you mumble, tugging harder on the stubborn roller that sticks to your hair like it's superglued there. You sigh, deciding to not be a total asshole you reply, easing his concerns. "I'm fine Father Steve!! I'll be with you in a second."

.•.•

A short eternity later, you join Robin and Father Steve downstairs after successfully winning the fight against the tenacious nylon roller. And surprisingly, you didn't look like a total wreck...thank God. Now, you are sitting in your living room with Father Steve as you try to explain the situation at hand with the Byers family and how his assistance is required in this situation whilst Robin prepares some tea in the kitchen.

Notes of all different sizes and colours are scattered all over the wooden coffee table along with the polaroid of the young Byers child, smiling happily whilst holding a replica of a proton gun from Ghostbusters. The picture had been what had drawn you to take on the case in the first place. His smile held such child-like innocence, radiant joy...you felt anger in knowing that an evil entity had taken advantage of this blameless, pristine boy with a bright future ahead of him.

"I can see why this concerns you, I mean...this seems all too similar to...you know..." Father Steve mutters, hands clasped tightly together as he squeezes them, anxiously. And you did know, you knew all too well of what he was referring to. It had been all you'd thought about for months now, even heavier on your mind since visiting Maxine at the hospice. The sound of bones snapping, blood spewing, screams tearing through your earbuds and inhuman mumblings spoken from the tongue of the devil himself.

It makes you shiver in dread. You nod at Father Steve's implications before you return with "I'm going to visit Joyce, his mother, tomorrow to look at the house and possibly speak to Will. I need to gather some evidence to get permission from the Vatican for an exorcism...hence why I need your help. Please." You explain, tone rich in desperation as your sentence nears its end.

Your pleas don't fall on deaf ears - they never do when it comes to Father Steve - as he nods, lacking any form of reluctance. "Yes, of course. You don't even have to ask," he says your name softly before he proceeds further, "you know I'll come running whenever you call." As he speaks, he places one of his hands on top of yours- they're warm.

There's that funny feeling again. That one where your insides twist and slide about. It's sickeningly sweet, yet uneasy.

And before you can thank him, Robin waltzes in holding a fancily patterned tray you didn't even know you owned, holding three cups of perfectly made tea. You both quickly separate your hands from one another. "Who wants some tea, folks?" she asks in a fake British accent, raising her eyebrows up and down repeatedly with a smug smirk.

.•.•

July 4th 1983, The Hargrove Residence.

The wind swirls like a category 4 hurricane outside the diminutive white-painted house with the dull blue roof. Billy Hargrove groans deeply as he sits, tied to a wooden chair pulled straight out of the kitchen with some rope his father had lying around in the shed. His complexion was as pale as the porcelain vase stuffed with pink tulips that sat contently in the kitchen, blissfully ignorant of what was occurring in the next room.

Father Steve grips his bible like a vice, determined to exorcise the evil out of this boy. Lucas and Max are standing coyly behind you in the living room, holding hands. Billy's father Neil, furrows his brows, apprehensive of what's to come with Max's mother, Susan on his arm- shaking. And you...you are standing your ground.

A bead of sweat trails off of his forehead and falls onto the top of his thigh- staining his tight jeans with a circular wet dot. The inhuman-looking black veins in his arms grew darker- if that was even possible and he cried out, "Untie me fuckers!! fucking untie me now!!"

You sigh in frustration and walk over to the heater on Billy's right, dialling up the heat...but not without wincing before doing so. "Aaghhh! You fucking bitch!" and as he screamed, you could hear more than one voice spit those venomous words at you. The floor began to shake, like that of an earthquake- but you keep your composure. Father Steve goes to step forward with his bible- but you get to Billy first.

"No, you listen you son of a bitch!" you began to speak, leaning down in front of the taken one who sits before you, now face to face. "You are going to free this boy of your evil! Whether you like it or not, with the power of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit I condemn you from carrying out your devious intentions!" you spit out, with just as much venom in your tone and as soon as you uttered those very words he began to cry in agony.

This time, he doesn't look at you- he looks at someone behind you with pleading eyes. "Max, please!! You have to help me, you have to believe me, Max!!" he cries, his bottom lip violently wobbling with 'sadness' but in his eyes held no tears. Lucas steps in front of her, protectively, glaring at the boy bound to the chair in front of him.

You glance back at Max briefly, shaking your head "Don't believe a word he says, Maxine!" you warn. She gets up from her original position- leaning against the wall - Lucas grabs her arm softly, and she gives him a look of reassurance before mouthing 'It's okay.' She begins to walk in your direction. And for a moment, you think she's going to untie him...but she doesn't.

Instead, she moves the other heater and dials it up all.the.way. She looks at you and nods with sincerity- drowning out 'Billy's' cries of pain before moving her left hand to her forehead, swiping off a trail of sweat that began to moisten the top of her forehead.

The shaking of the floor intensified and items on shelves around the living room began to fall and shatter on the ground. You look to Father Steve and he nods his head, flicking to a certain page in the bible and you grip the bottle of blessed holy water that sits in the crevice of your cardigan pocket, itching to be opened.

But before you can act something unexpected occurs. Something sinister...the beginning of the end. Max is suddenly thrown to the other side of the room, her back hitting the wall on Billy's right. Susan screams and goes to run to her daughter's aid but Neil grabs her by the waist, stopping her. You're frozen in time and apparently so is Father Steve but not Lucas.

Lucas sprints to the other side of the room where Max was tossed and gets about halfway before an unknown force suddenly pulls him back. "No! Max, no!! Let her go, you asshole!" he roars in fury, storming over to the chair-bound devil. Father Steve holds an arm out to stop Lucas before he begins to read out of the bible. Max slowly finds her footing, standing up.

"I command you, unclean spirit, whoever you are, along with all of your minions now attacking this servant of God, by the mysteries of the incarnation, passion, resurrection, and ascension of our Lord Jesus Christ, by the descent of the Holy Spirit, by the coming of our Lord for judgement, that you tell by some sign your name and the day and hour of your departure. I command you, moreover, to obey me to the letter, I who am a minister of God despite my unworthiness; nor shall you be emboldened to harm any way this creature of God, or the bystanders, or any of their-" Steve stopped reading when he saw the horrified, pale look on your face. He turns to look at what you're seeing.

Max is floating in the air.

Susan becomes scared and tells Father Steve, "Please stop this!! I can't lose my baby!! Please!" she kicks and cries.

You utter to Steve, "Carry on, we have to get this out of him." as you pull out the much-awaited bottle of holy water, popping open the corked lid and begin splashing some at Billy. The floor began to violently shake and objects began to fly around the room, the wind picked up even heavier outside.

"-Possessions...they shall lay their..."

A blood-curdling scream rips through the entire home before a thud shakes the floor. When you look back at Max you gasp, feeling all of the breath fall out of your lungs. You run over the frail, weak girl and scrape her into your arms.

You look at her face, it's not a pretty sight to see.

One of her eyes had been gauged out, a stream of blood pouring out, whilst the other eye bears a long diagonal slash across it, the cut deep. She cries, "help me...please help me."

"It's going to be okay, honey...It's going to be okay I promise you that. Lucas!" you comfort, before calling to her boyfriend who you realise was right behind you this entire time. He shared the same look of utter, and sheer terror with you. You get up and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Stay with her, okay? Stay." you give him a look of sincerity before handing him the bottle of holy water. "Protect yourselves."

The lights began to flicker in the living room. The shaking of the floor is so intense that it makes you feel sick to your stomach- but you know that that isn't the only reason.

Steve sighs in apprehension before he continues with the prayer- this time he speaks it with more fire in his tone, and determination.

"And by the power of God, I condemn you back to Hell!!" he demands with a furious yell. Just as he nears the end of his sentence, the old clock in the hallway outside the living room chimed four times.

The lights go out completely for a moment, but the physical darkness of the room was shortlived as the lights jumped back on.

Billy Hargrove lay limply in the wooden chair, lifeless.

His head hung low and his eyes, nose and mouth poured with blood. His throat had been slit.

So.much.blood.

.•.•

You hadn't realised you had been daydreaming until you clock that a finger is mere centimetres away from your face, snapping constantly. "Oh, there she is!! She's back. Hi!! we missed you...you haven't touched your tea yet, Psychic Sally." It's Robin, her tone burns with amusement but her gaze is full of concern.

You manage a dry laugh, shaking your head. Before picking up the cup of tea and bringing it to your lips, taking a sip.

"Sorry...sorry yes- yeah just got distracted, s'all." you lie, placing the cup down onto your favourite 'The Beatles' coaster. And if there was one thing about the people who had spent enough time around you to actually know you, it was that they knew when you were lying.

He knew.

He would ask you about it later, he had decided. But as of right now, he would remain professional. Right now, he was Father Steve- but after you've discussed tomorrow's plans...he would just be Steve.

A 'friend.'

"So...let's make a plan then, I thought it oughta be best to be more prepared this time because- well you know..." you suggest, face scrunching up in frustration at your inability to even utter words about that night. Father Steve nods knowingly, before smiling at you with reassurance. You glance back at him and realise that this is the first time in a while, that you have been able to properly look at him.

That dirty blondish-brown hair of his was styled perfectly into a short mullet, it was longer than it was the last time you had gawked at it- more unkempt. And even though it was fall, he still had that sunkissed glow on his skin like aphrodite had kissed it herself, and that smile- that goddamn smile. Pardon your French, sorry God.

Robins looks between the two of you as she takes a gulp of her tea, hiding her smirk in the crevice of the cup. She will heavily quiz you on this later. Why hadn't you both talked sooner?

The phone in the hallway began to blare out receptive 'brrrlliingggg's and Robin sighed, getting up from her spot on the couch before she turned to you both. "I'll be back, lovebirds."

You huff, trying to avoid the heat you feel travelling towards your face. He does the same, chuckling lightheartedly. You missed that sound, you didn't get to hear it a lot.

It was admittedly, very nice to hear, the nicest.

Whilst the two of you began to arrange meeting times for the morning, Robin made it to the kitchen to answer the phone.

"Hello?" Robin answers, twirling the wire of the landline around her finger whilst she anticipates an answer.

"Oh...um...hey, I think I may have the wrong number- I'm looking for," she says your name, nervously, and there's a silence after that ensues for only a short period before Robin intervenes. "Oh! no not at all, she's just in the living room...hold on," she covers the phone with her hand and shouts your name followed with "phone!"

To which you excuse yourself from Father Steve, who is sitting looking through the file you had written earlier that night regarding the Byers' case.

You arrive at the kitchen and thank your lovely, yet sometimes painfully annoying assistant as she hands you the phone and you say, "-Hey there, who's calling?" whilst propping yourself up against the kitchen counter.

"It's Max, we need to talk...like- right now." She quietly whispers, sighing. You stop leaning up against the counter and stand up, concerned. "Yeah yeah, what's...what's up?" you ask, unsure of what her answer will be.

"I had to whisper for a moment, sorry. My carer was just here- she helped me dial- doesn't matter...But it's happening again...isn't it?" Her voice wavered with fear, and full of solemn dread you muster up a reply.

"How do you know that, Maxine? How do you...?" you blurt out with a mixture of confusion and fear coursing through your veins. You hear her sigh on the other end of the phone before she shuffles around in what you assume is her armchair.

"How many times do I have to tell you, it's Max," she jokes, trying to diffuse the tense atmosphere. You sigh, not in a joking mood when it comes to her safety and involvement in the situation at hand.

She huffs... before she speaks again.

"Joyce Byers called me today."

.•.•

HEY!! sorry for the delay in posting this chapter, had a super stressful and jam-packed week!! but things should be back on schedule now! thank you all so much for the support and thank you to @stveharringtn for being there for me so much!!

taglist: @stveharringtn, @be-the-spark-bitch, @ravenhellfire86 , @kitdjarin1 , @sage-glowstick

let me know if you would like to be added!! i’m posting some extra bits today, like pictures of readers house, pictures of maxine’s home at the hospice, etc!!

[gracegrove]

WWII Harringrove au

Where Steve's parents purchased him a draft deferment but Billy volunteered because he wanted to get the hell out of the run down house and away from the beatings from his old man when he didn't come home with enough money. Billy lied about his age, knew he'd be drafted in a year anyway.

Steve feels a profound sense of guilt as more men his age leave and he remains in his small town. One of just a few men left his age. The others denied or exempt with family farms to run or personal health difficulties. Steve feels like a chump and finally volunteers in late 1943.

Steve struggles through his training but eventually makes it to England by the spring of 1944. He is hopeless on his feet with many drills and tasks, but his commanding officer sees a special talent in him and volunteers Steve to enlist into the Army Air Corps. Steve joins the 101st Airborne as a paratrooper.

While Steve is at the main base in England he meets a loud and cantankerous young army officer who has risen through the ranks in his own right. Lieutenant Hargrove.

They become rivals.

Steve flouting respect for rank and pushing his luck when he's out on passes in town. Returning to base past curfew and drunker than a skunk.

Lt. Hargrove has threatened to court martial him, but often opts for putting Private Harrington through unnecessary drills in the cold driving English rain. Crawling on all fours through muddy pasture and jumping stonewalls. Running down countryside roads until Harrington is doubled over and cramping. Before Lt. Hargrove let's Pvt. Harrington clamor into the back of his jeep groaning. And they drive back to base.

On June 6, 1944 they both learn that they will be crossing the Channel and into the razor sharp teeth of the Nazi defenses on the coast of France. Lt. Hargrove is assigned with his men to a navy destroyer. Pvt. Harrington is given orders to go by air and drop behind enemy lines straight into the beast's waiting mouth.

They have one last meal together. A quiet understanding reached. A truce, as they exchange glances between bites. The camp wide siren blares. It's time.

They stand. A hand on one another's shoulder, the other hand in a desperate grasping handshake that takes each man by the forearm and holds tight.

"Take care of yourself you sonnuva bitch." Lt. Hargrove forces in a tight mouthed wish of luck.

"You too. Stubborn bastard." Pvt. Harrington smiles, his eyes betraying the grin.

The parting is shaking. A brittle break from one another as they walk in opposite directions. They spare each other one last glance before they leave.

It is not until August of 1945 that they see each other again. In Paris.

[queerofthedagger]

Eat Your Heart Out

[Steddie | Explicit | 10k | no warnings]

Tags: Post-S3, Pre-S4, UST, Falling in Love, Mutual Pining, Sexual Content, they're bi losers your honour - not cause they're bi just because they're losers and bisexual <3, Light Angst, Fluff

Summary:

And the thing is, Eddie knows that this is a one-time anomaly. That Harrington is going to get into his car and drive his gaggle of unlikely kids home, and somewhere along that trajectory, the world will stumble back on its axis, one where Steve Harrington does not flirt with Eddie Munson, creating inside jokes and smiling smiles edged with affection. The thing is, Eddie has never learned restraint when it comes to the things he’s greedy for. --- Eddie knows that Steve's into him. He knows that Steve knows that Eddie is into him, too. Now it's only a question of who will give in first. Fortunately, Eddie's the most stubborn bastard in Hawkins, so it's not going to be him. Unfortunately, it might not actually be that simple.

[steddieficrec]

Eat Your Heart Out by queerofthedagger

(1/1 I 10,500 I Explicit)

And the thing is, Eddie knows that this is a one-time anomaly. That Harrington is going to get into his car and drive his gaggle of unlikely kids home, and somewhere along that trajectory, the world will stumble back on its axis, one where Steve Harrington does not flirt with Eddie Munson, creating inside jokes and smiling smiles edged with affection. The thing is, Eddie has never learned restraint when it comes to the things he’s greedy for.

Eddie knows that Steve's into him. He knows that Steve knows that Eddie is into him, too. Now it's only a question of who will give in first.

Fortunately, Eddie's the most stubborn bastard in Hawkins, so it's not going to be him. Unfortunately, it might not actually be that simple.

[mentalpolaroids]

Don’t take too long

[gif creds @barneswayne]

Steve Harrington x female!Reader

Summary: Reader is moving with the Byers to California after losing her dad, Jim Hopper. It hurts to say goodbye to her home, but it hurts ten times more having to say goodbye to Steve

Warnings: mentions of losing a parent, swearing

(y/n) wiped a stubborn tear only for another to fall from her other eye, as she finished reading the letter in El’s hands while holding the sobbing girl in her arms. She didn’t know what was more painful: reading words of unplanned farewell from her dead father, feeling El cry even harder from reading those words, or the fact that her father was dead. The only thing (y/n) knew was that it hurt. So fucking bad. 

She kissed El on the head and left her room to finish packing her own stuff, but not before taking one last look at the little girl that she was quick to call her sister not long after Hopper had taken her in. She smiled, remembering the constant banter between the two, and how the chief would lose his cool trying to be all authoritative only to be paid with a slamming door. That same smile turned into a sad one, knowing El had lost one of the only people who had ever shown her what love was, paternal, family love, and that thought brought another set of tears to (y/n)’s eyes, but before they could fall, she turned around to finally leave the room. 

(y/n) crossed paths with Joyce, who even fighting her own tears still smiled tenderly at the Hopper girl. 

“How’re you feeling?” the woman asked, squeezing her arm. 

“Okay. As okay as I can be.”

“Anything you need,” Joyce cleaned the wetness under her eyes, “anything, I’m here.”

(y/n) could only nod and use the curve of her lips as an appreciative sign. 

It was decided that (y/n) would be moving with the Byers, along with El, to California. There was a lot of insisting from Joyce until the girl was finally convinced, and one of the factors that helped in that decision were the constant nightmares paying (y/n) a visit every night and she was certain it was because of the empty Hopper household. She was aware that it was her mind that needed a new start and it would follow her wherever she went, but she wanted to hold onto every little last bit of hope. The other was El, and there wasn’t much explanation on that except the fact the girls had developed a deep emotional connection between them and the idea of being apart was almost as bad as (y/n)’s nightmares. And then, there was the other side of the coin, and in there was carved the picture of the boy helping carrying boxes outside. Steve Harrington, the reason it took so long for (y/n) to make a decision about moving to the other side of the country, mostly because there were some feelings to be discussed after the crazy and rather traumatizing events that happened in Hawkins. (y/n) couldn’t take the image of Steve’s beaten up face out of her head, and the fear, panic and frustration of witnessing what those Russian bastards had done to him still haunted her. The need to take care of him never died down after she patched his face the best she could and (y/n) wished the words and lingering looks they shared in the mall’s restroom would’ve happened in different circumstances. She wasn’t even sure if Steve remembered any of it, or if it was just the effects of whatever drugs he was given or just exhaustion. 

Said reason made his way back inside, crossed paths with the sea of boxes around the living room and smiled when he saw his best friend appear from the corridor at the same time as him. Steve let his concern show in his features at the slight redness in (y/n)’s eyes. She didn’t have to ask and he didn’t need to offer, anyone watching them could tell how natural it was for them to get lost in each other, whether it was in a silly conversation about a stupid topic or in a hug longer and tighter than an average friendship would allow. But neither (y/n) nor Steve cared, they were about to say goodbye to each other and only the change of those plans, that wouldn’t happen, would make it hurt a bit less, so they wanted to savor every remaining second they had together. 

(y/n) let out a deep sigh as her muscles relaxed when engulfed in Steve’s arms, and the way her head rested on his chest made her relive all the nights the boy spent with her as she cried her soul out. Steve would hold (y/n) tight against him, whisper words of consolation and ask her if she remembered a certain moment from high school to hopefully distract her distressed mind. He would smile at her broken laughs between sobs and kiss her forehead every time she gripped his sweater a bit tighter looking for security. He would be there for her any time of the day, no matter what he was doing, and in those three months Steve felt accomplished to see the bubbly energy of his best friend slowly come back to life but his heart sank back down when (y/n) told him about California. He knew she deserved a new beginning, a new chance to be happy again in a new reality, but was it selfish to wish to be a part of it? To wish she could build that reality with him? To wish he could be brave, more than ever before, and tell her how he felt, not to make her stay, but at least to feel reassured that there wasn’t unfinished business between them and not lose his chances of losing her to someone else for good. 

The tender moment got broken by the echoing sound of Lucas and Max’s voices singing in sync coming from the living room and Steve only let go of (y/n) when her giggles turned into laughter that quickly influenced his own and they couldn’t hold themselves together anymore. Both had Dustin’s annoyed face painted in their brains and the younger couple’s teasing was too good to ignore, but what truly made Steve happy and seeing his girl smile genuinely again. 

“Should we go save the poor Henderson?” 

“Or join the dark side and outsing Lucas' excruciatingly out of tune voice?” 

“No, yeah, that sounds better, I’d love to hear you sing.” 

Steve hardly kissed (y/n)’s forehead with his lips pushed back into a smile and led her to the living room with his arm around her shoulders. 

After a few minutes of distraction, teasing and play fighting with the kids, there wasn’t much left to pack and carry to the moving truck outside, and the gloomy atmosphere from earlier returned to stand over (y/n)’s head as she watched her sister hug her friends goodbye, something she was dreading to do. But it didn’t take long until it was her turn and she felt it in her stomach when the rough skin of her best friend’s hand touched her palm to lace their fingers. 

“So,” (y/n) started, still waiting to get the courage to look into Steve’s sad eyes, “I guess this is it, huh?”

The boy chuckled but there wasn’t any amusement in the sound. He was dreading that moment just as much as her.

“What am I supposed to do while you're gone?” he asked, in the same tone as when a teenager is told to do something by their mom and they whine with a do I really have to?

“What do you usually do when I'm gone?” (y/n) smiled at his pout and finally allowed her eyes to meet his. 

“Wait for you to come back.”

At that statement, her brain was keeping her heart from calling the shots and making her lounge herself at Steve to kiss him, because how is someone supposed to behave after being told something like that? Especially coming from the person she was going to miss the most.

(y/n) didn’t know about the urge to kiss her best friend but she was certain about one of those tight hugs that makes times stop, makes her want to save every detail of how Steve’s arms wrap around her waist and his nose tickles her neck, something she usually would complain about but when it’s him, she doesn’t care because it only sets her skin on fire and tickles her heart instead. And that’s how they found each other again, super-glued together, almost unable to set themselves free. Not that they wanted to anyway.

“Then I’ll come back, Harrington.”

Steve tightened his grip on (y/n) after those words. The moment to say goodbye was so, so close and all he wanted to do was run away with her or go back in time and be quicker to find a solution so she didn’t have to leave. He meant it when he asked what he was supposed to do with his best friend gone and his brain was empty of answers. 

The boy moved his hand up to hold the back of her head, gently but needy, and kissed her temple longingly, as if he also wanted to save a bit of the taste of her skin. (y/n) was sure she was blocking Steve’s breathing with how tight she was clinging to his neck. It was a messy hug, the kind that you can’t tell which arm belongs to who, but they didn’t care, they just wanted to stay close and close wasn’t close enough. 

“Just don’t take too long, okay?” Steve sniffed, not really bothered to keep himself from crying anymore, “I can’t take care of all these kids and Robin by myself.” 

(y/n) laughed, a bittersweet contrast to her tears that made what felt like the forty seventh appearance that day. 

“I won’t.” (y/n) promised, moving an inch to kiss Steve on the cheek. 

The salty taste on her lips surprised her and she held his face in her hands to take a longing look at his stained skin. She brushed the transparent trails off with her thumb with an extra move to caress and savor his features. As she did that, Steve couldn’t take his eyes off her lips. They were so there, he just had to lean forward that damn inch separating them and he could finally say what he wanted to say and without using words. Steve just wanted to fucking kiss her and the way (y/n) was now looking at his lips too was driving him to insanity. 

Done wasting time, the boy lifted (y/n)’s chin up, looked her in the eyes as if searching for an unspoken permission, and kissed her. The first touch of their mouths was messy, uncalculated and desperate. But they were desperate, the way they were clinging to each other made that clear and now that they had finally popped the balloon filled with tension it would be hard for one to let go of the other. 

Steve moved the hand that was holding (y/n)’s chin back to the back of her neck so he could kiss her properly. Slower, deeper. The girl’s hand that still remained covering Steve’s tear stained cheeks slid to the back of his head and gave his hair a pleasurable tug. The unexpected gesture made the boy gasp slightly and (y/n) took the chance to deepen the kiss and touch his bottom lip with the tip of her tongue. 

In the background, Jonathan closed the truck and moved to stand next to Nancy, who was observing her two friends, shamelessly making out on the porch, with a proud smile on her face. Jonathan couldn’t hide the surprise in his eyes, not that it was news to anyone that (y/n) and Steve were bound to get together sooner or later, their obvious chemistry said so, he just didn’t expect to actually witness the two indulging in it, and in front of everyone. 

“Should we tell them that there are kids around?”

Nancy giggled and shook her head. 

“The kids can handle it.” she gestured with her head to the new couple, “Let them have their moment, I can only imagine how hard this must be for them.” 

Jonathan agreed and made his way to the front of the truck, Nancy following him to say her last goodbye. 

Annoyingly out of breath, Steve and (y/n) broke their mouths apart but maintained their faces close with their foreheads resting against one another. Steve smiled widely, (y/n) bit her lip, both with their eyes still closed and eager to kiss again. The boy relocated his hands to cradle her face, in his head, he wanted to make sure she was real, that the moment they just shared was real, and not just one of many of his fantasies being played in his mind. (y/n) opened her eyes and it didn’t take long until Steve was staring back at her. 

She leaned forward with the intention of kissing her best friend, or whatever he was now, again, but was interrupted by an impatient honk of the truck. 

“Sorry guys,” Joyce walked up to them and looked at (y/n) sympathetically, “time to go, honey.” 

(y/n) nodded with a smile and turned to Steve one last time. 

“I’ll call you when we get there?” 

“Yeah.” 

Fighting another set of tears already formed in her eyes, (y/n) kissed his cheek and untangled herself from the arms she grew to be so accustomed to and followed Joyce to the truck. It was agonizing to step away from him not knowing when she would be able to see him again. To hold him, kiss him. To make him hers. It was something they ended up not talking about but if that kiss did one thing was assure both of them that they had belonged to each other for quite some time and there was no intention of moving on. 

Steve would wait for (y/n), he knew she would come back, she promised so, he just hoped it wouldn’t take long.

..................................................................................

Should I make a part 2?

[moralina]

Being Steve's sister and having a crush on Billy

Billy Hargrove x Harrington!reader

"Do not talk to him." Was the first thing steve said after tugging you away from Billy when he caught you two talking in the school's parking lot

You knew why steve didn't like him - actually you only thought you knew

To you, it was because of the whole dethrone of king steve

But the things is, you didn't know about the upside down

Steve made everything in his power to keep you safe and away from all those monsters

So you didn't know that Billy was the reason why your brother got home all beaten up a few weeks ago

Billy had an infinite list of nicknames for you

"Hey sweets"

"Looking good today, hot stuff"

"See ya later, sexy"

"Miss me, babe?"

"I know you love me, darling"

"What a man gotta do to get a kiss around here, princess?"

"Good morning, sunshine"

And many more

And you loved every single one of them

Even if they were cheesy

Billy has the power to make your heart pick up speed only with a glance in your direction

Your legs turn into jelly

And you could swear you're gonna melt

And he knew

The bastard was aware of his affect on you

He asked you on a date

And you immediately said yes

'Cause you're a simp

You guys did it on the backseat of his car

How romantic

When you got home steve was going crazy

He saw you leaving with Billy earlier

"It's my life steve, you're not my dad"

"But I'm your older brother"

The next day at school Billy was all over you, especially when Steve was nearby

He loved annoying Steve

And you did too

You both agreed to a friends with benefits relationship

No feelings

No strings attached

Just good ol' friends with benefits

And you should've said no, because you knew how easy you could fall for someone, and you already had a tiny huge crush on Billy

But in the moment it sounded like a good idea

And it was for the first 2 weeks

But when Billy ignored you to talk to Amanda Butler

And when he stood you up to hook up with Ella Andrews

You realized how bad of an ideia it was

And you were ready to end it all the next day

But when he gritted you with "good morning, princess! Looking sweet as always."

You faltered

And steve noticed. He knew there was something wrong and billy was the reason

As the protective brother he is, he went up to Billy after school, telling him to stay away from you

It did not end well

Moments after steve had a purple eye and a bruised lip

You attended his injuries with your hello kitty band-aid

"Idiot!" You gave him a smack on the head

"Ouch!"

"You deserve it!"

"I was protecting you!"

He was just too stubborn sometimes

But you love him nonetheless

And billy?

You basically ignored him for two weeks

And you were planning on ignoring him forever

But unfortunately the universe had other plans

Billy was failing chemistry and mr Cameron assigned you as his lab partner because in his words "you are the best student and the only one capable to help Billy."

It was hell at first, and Billy's smug personality only made you more mad at him

But one day, when you were both studying at his house Billy did something you weren't expecting

"I'm sorry"

"Huh?"

"I'm sorry, okay?"

You didn't know how to respond so you just nodded

Neither of you talked after this, staying in a uncomfortable silence. You just wanted to go home, you hated this types of situations

Days passed and everything went back to normal

Billy was flirting with you again like nothing happened and you were beyond confused

Well, that's the price you pay for crushing on Billy Hargrove

》》》》》》》》》》

A/n: I had to stop it here because my creativity just died :,) if you enjoyed please consider leaving a like or a comment and reblog, I'd really appreciate, it helps a lot 💙

[metalheadcowboy]

"Stupid piece of shit, son of a bitch!" Billy cursed, kicking the underside of the front bumper of Neil's old beat up Ford F-350, "Fuckin' thing cain't a lasted a few more miles?"

Steve swung the passengers side door shut, boots clicking as he walked around to see the damage, "Ya act like the thing's brand new, Bill, hell, pretty sure it ain't even run right when it was." His hands hung low on his hips, as he examined under the hood. Didn't take an expert to see the problem given the short plumes of smoke and the strong smell of oil. If Steve were thinking about it any harder he would have had half a mind to back away, but he never was much of a thinker.

Billy wiped the sweat off of his brow, wishing now more than ever that he had worn his hat, "Well, it made it this long, didn't it?" he snapped, throwing his hands dramatically up in the air before shaking his head matter-a-factly. Steve just sighed, looking down the road both way, nothing in sight but asphalt, mountains, and dead Timothy grass. He did have a point, but the truck was bound to give out any day now. Of course it had to choose this day at this time.

"What'm I 'sposed to tell 'm, Steve?" the blonde boy questioned, still faced the other way. Steve could sense a certain vulnerability in the younger teens voice, something raw, something scared that pained him to the core.

Steve licked his lips, taking a short step forwards, "The truth," he spoke softly, letting his hand escape the sharp jut of his own hip to the sweaty expanse of the back of Billy's neck, thumbing at fresh cut curls. And for the first time that day he seemed to actually relax, tense muscles going lax at the tender contact.

Gently, Steve massaged, calloused fingers digging into soft flesh. Billy let out a soft grunt, "Ain't gonna believe me no way, Rodeo," he all but whispered, letting his head lull forwards, small smile cracking the brunettes hard expression.

"He'll have to," Steve rebutted, hand trailing up to brush through Billy's matted caramel curls, "Can't deny the fried engine 'r the smell'a gas can 'e?" He did have a point there, but the shorter teen was smarter than that, and knew his dad a hell of a lot better.

Billy only let his head hang for another minute before bringing it back to its original upright position, "Can 'f he pleases," he mumbled solemnly. Steve knew he was right, if there was one trait that topped bastard when it came to that Neil it was stubbornness. He let his hand fall back to his side with another defeated huff. He couldn't shake the feeling that this was somehow his fault, part of the punishment from God his parents went on about when they first found out he was queer. Maybe he should be on his hands and knees thanking the man upstairs that he wasn't burst into smithereens instead.

Steve gave Billy a hearty smack in the center of his back, "Buck up, cowboy, least we ain't gotta worry 'bout him for a few hours," he encouraged, looking on the bright side.

" 'N what're we supposed to do in the meantime, sit here 'n look pretty?" Billy retorted, sensing the amusement in Steve's sparkling brown eyes.

A sly smirk spread across Steve's face, "Think you had that down a while ago, fella," he remarked with a proud grin, one that billy couldn't help but give a half a smile to himself.

"You're so full a it, Harrington," Billy rolled his eyes, "Ain't better 'n no school girl."

Steve chuckled lightly, "Maybe not," he gave in, not having the will in him right now to fight against Billy comparing him to a girl. After a few seconds he sauntered to the tail end of the Ford in defeat, letting down the tailgate before giving himself a less than graceful hop up to sit on the bed.

"You really just gon' sit there?" Billy asked in surprise.

Steve turned his torso to look back at him, "I mean, what else 's there ta do, Billy? Not like we c'n call somebody to come 'n get us. So, we'll just hav'ta wait for the next car 'a pass." Billy didn't seem too fond of this idea, scowling at the brunette from his spot near the front of the truck.

"That could be hours, we don't got that kinda time, 'sposed ta be pickin' up the feed at two," he complained, scratching at the side of his jaw.

Steve shrugged, "They'll just hav'ta hold it, then. Ain't no fault'a ours." He was surprised when his counterpart had no further arguments, but was even more surprised when Billy walked around the side of the truck to join him. Steve made sure to keep his distance, already daring to touch once, not feeling like testing the waters twice.

But he could see the wheels turning in Billy's head, the gears shifting as he surely thought about what was waiting for him when he got home with no feed and not truck. Steve knew he'd get it too, but not as bad, never as bad. If history repeated itself he'd just get a stern talking to, the sloppy seconds of Billy's shiner and split lip.

Steve had gotten so lost in thought that when he felt a pinky nudging at his own it made him nearly jump out of his skin. He looked over at Billy, but didn't spare more than a glance before turning back, not wanting to fuck it up. Gently he lifted his pinky, half shaking, and wrapped it over the younger teens own with care.

There it was again, the contempt sigh and shrinking shoulders of shed tension from Billy that made the knot in Steve's stomach feel a little looser. In one swift motion Steve took the dark brown hat off of his head and placed it on Billy's, giving it a good push down before letting go again, all without looking over. In his peripheral he swore he could see a smile, the quick flash fo pearly white teeth that shone like sunshine between delicate pink lips.

And for a second, even if just for one second, he felt like everything might work out alright.

[mobiusmcqueen]

hello plot generator! I present my title for a steddie fic :P

It Was Only Once We Stayed

oh boy people are taking me seriously no one ever does that so I'm shooketh. starting to doubt my abilities here but here we go (if that's the name of a real fic I'm screwed, probably)

it starts with steve, too afraid to go into eddie's hospital room after he wakes up because of the immense guilt that creeps up on him whenever he gets just a little bit close to the door. because steve left him there that night, he didn't check for a pulse and believed dustin when he said eddie was dead. he even mourned a little but didn't check, didn't confirm and most importantly, he didn't stay. but that incredibly stubborn bastard dragged himself through the literal gates of hell and crawled his way back into the living.

few chapters in and something fucking awful happens with steve and his family, like really fucking awful. and eddie tries but he doesn't know how to comfort him, how to console him because suddenly everything is too much. families were never his strong suit, growing up in a shit one he doesn't even have contact with anymore really makes him unable to understand the complex relationship the harringtons have with each other. he tries but he fails and even though eddie wants to stay he makes it worse somehow, so he leaves before he completely damages steve's emotional health like his parents did.

another few chapters and the line between friends and something more gets even more blurry than before. they get high, shit happens between them, you know the story. both get real stressed about what it means to the other and are absolute pussies to actually talk about it. but then one of them whispers "stay" like a prayer into the darkness of the night, so the other does.

and scene or smth idk

[femmeharringrove]

we belong - chapter one

tag squad!! - @a-magey​ @harringrovetrashh​ @lostnoise​ @greyspilot​ - if you’d like to be added to the list hmu!!

     Steve Harrington is arguably the strangest beta in Hawkins. Everybody agrees on this one fact. In a town comprised mostly of betas, it’s easy to notice when one is different, and Steve’s behavior has him sticking out like a sore thumb. He’s got plenty of normal beta characteristics, sure. He’s an excellent peacemaker, a level-headed thinker most of the time. But he’s incredibly fiery when he wants to be, aggressively protective, like an alpha hovering over his pack. He’s also adopted six older pups out of the blue, and the rest of Hawkins has watched in utter confusion as he’s marched about town herding his kids along like an omega watching over his litter.

     Billy Hargrove isn’t sure what to make of it.

( read on ao3 )

     And it’s not like he usually spends his time thinking about the brunette’s habits, not outside of the night the other started swinging fists in an attempt to protect Max and her dipshit friends from his rage, but he’s had plenty of time to think lately. He’s had nothing but time in this stupid hospital, with its stupid walls and stupid sterile smell. Once he gets out, he’s determined to never step foot in this place again. Max has been visiting every day, according to the nurses, and her company makes it bearable at best. She actually spent the first three nights sleeping in the waiting room with Harrington of all people.

     Harrington, who, according to Max herself, was admitted into the hospital the night of the mall incident too. Billy just barely remembers seeing the beta there that night; his face littered with bruises and oddly bloody. Max didn’t know what exactly happened, Steve and Dustin won’t tell anyone about it, but from what she gathered the Soviet Union was involved. Billy doesn’t think about that too much – he’s more interested in the way Steve’s been at the hospital every single day with Max, as long as he’s been conscious to see it.

     The nurses say Steve’s been with her ever since he was discharged, coming in every day and comforting her whenever she gets upset. He’s seen the beta do it too, the way he opens his arms up the moment Max’s lip begins to wobble and holds her close until she’s calmed, petting her hair and murmuring in her ear something he can never hear.

     Sometimes he brings little Byers with him, and the kid’s nice. Billy likes him. The first time the pup came to visit, he sat right next to the scowling alpha and told him that he got it, he’d been there before, and if he ever wanted to talk about it he’d listen. At the time, Billy snapped about not needin’ to talk to some pup about any damn thing, but that didn’t deter the kid, and now the blonde was thinking he just may take the kid up on the offer. Every time Will comes, he sits by Billy for a few minutes and makes easy conversation before retreating to Harrington and plastering himself to the beta’s side so Max can be close to Billy, piping up to add to the conversation every now and again.

     Other times, instead of Byers, Steve brings the Henderson kid. This one’s loud and pushy, but it’s clear to Billy that this is Harrington’s pup. Steve looks at the curly-haired bastard with all the fond pride of a pleased parent, even when he’s trying to scold the pup. And the kid’s smart, he knows Steve would be hard pressed to actually get mad at him, but it seems he doesn’t really want to make the beta mad anyway – the bond between them goes both ways, that much is clear. They make an odd pair; Harrington’s on the quiet side, more reserved than the pup. Henderson can’t seem to stay quiet longer than two minutes, and he likes saying whatever comes to mind, almost painfully blunt in his mannerisms. Billy has to admire that a little bit, even if it irks him at times.

     Harrington brings the others too, sometimes, but for the most part it’s Max, Dustin, and Will. El will occasionally tag along, quiet and observant, her large eyes filled with kind understanding every time she looked at him, and Sinclair came by once to keep Max company. The kid’s still wary of him, and the alpha can’t really blame him, not in the slightest. Billy supposes he owes the kid an apology. He’s not good at those, but he’ll spit one out sooner or later. He owes a lot of people apologies – Max, all of her little friends, even Steve. Steve’s promises to be the hardest, because the guy’s got this obnoxious habit of being unbearably kind even when Billy’s a dick. Every day he’s come into this hospital he’s offered a gentle smile, a kind greeting, and brings him books to help ward off boredom when he’s on his own. Last week, the beta brought a bag full of yarn and sat there for a good half hour showing him how to crochet and knit. Billy, of course, bitched about it the whole time, because what alpha willingly learned that shit anyway?

     And, hey, if he now has a scarf in the works hiding in that stupid bag, who’s going to say anything about it?

     The answer is Neil, he knows. Neil would kick his ass if he saw the way Billy’s fingers nimbly dance with those needles, regardless of whether his son is sitting in a hospital bed or not. But the nice thing, if it can be called nice, is that Neil Hargrove hasn’t shown his face once in the hospital. Max told him that he came the night Billy was admitted, stayed until the blonde got out of the barrage of surgeries he’d underwent, and promptly left. And yeah, it’s sucky, but Billy supposes it’s for the best. Neil can drain a room of warmth faster than anything, and Billy’s uncomfortable already. And if he came and found Steve sitting there, the chances of being called a fucking fairy were higher than he’d like them to be, as well as the chances of getting the shit beat out of him. Sure, he supposes he can just tell Harrington to go, but the thing is the beta’s good at making the cold hospital room feel a smidge warmer. Billy isn’t sure he wants to willingly force that warmth out for anyone, let alone his father.

     Which is why Billy’s mad at him. It’d be easy if Steve was cruel to him, but the doe-eyed brunette is surprisingly soft. He’s got his edges, his eyes flash with a certain element of danger every now and again, but he’s overwhelmingly made of soft lines and gentle corners. And Billy isn’t sure how to respond to that most of the time. Today, however, crossing his arms as he stares at the beta and his redhead sister, he knows just the answer to give to Steve’s kindness.

     “Absolutely the fuck not.” Max’s sharp blue eyes are wide as she glares at Billy, unimpressed with the alpha’s stony expression.

     “Why not?” she demands. “Bill, you know you can’t come back home, it’s not a good idea for your recovery. Steve’s house is huge, you could avoid him all you wanted!” Her eyes flicker towards the man next to her, features softening for a brief moment. “No offense, Steve.” Steve smiles faintly in reply, hands raising up slightly.

     “None taken.” Billy rolls his eyes, lips pressing into a thin line.

     “Look, I’m not going to live with your stupid babysitter, Maxine.” His voice is a nasty growl, mean and sharp and fully intended to stop this conversation, but Max isn’t that easy to put off.

     “Can you stop being so stubborn?” she growls right back, arms crossing over her chest and teeth baring in a snarl almost identical to his. “I’m just trying to keep an eye on you, you dumbass, because I don’t want you to end up getting worse, and we both know you’re not gonna be able to recover all the way at home!” She’s so goddamn fiery, Billy gripes internally. She’s learned that from him, however, so he hardly has a right to say anything. If he has to put money on it, he’s almost completely convinced this kid’s going to be an alpha. Neil isn’t going to like that, and the idea sends a flash of worry through the blonde for a fraction of a moment.

     “And, what, you think I’ll do better with him?” His head jabs sharply towards the other man. “I’ll try my luck in my own damn house, thanks.”

     “Billy, please!” Max’s lighter blue eyes clash with his ocean hues, her face pinched and far too serious for any fourteen-year-old. “Look, I get it. You and Steve aren’t friends or whatever, but he said he’d let you stay – not live there, you don’t have to move in forever.” Max’s reasoning isn’t half bad, Billy has to admit. Her hands grasp at one another as she presses on, words tumbling over each other in their haste to escape her lips. “It’s just for a little while, just until you finish recovering, then you can come home. Just think about it!”

     “And you think my absence won’t be noticed?” he interrogates. Because Neil certainly isn’t going to react well to something like this. If the man finds out he’s staying with another boy, it’s going to lead to trouble for him and for Harrington. Max waves her hand frantically.

     “We’ll just tell him you’re still in the hospital! He won’t check, you and I both know that.” And she’s right, he does know it. Neil hasn’t so much as called, the chances of him deciding to do so anytime soon are slim to none. His sister’s eyes are staring at him wide and hopeful, and Billy’s too tired to fight her on the matter any further.

     “Don’t you and your stupid friends spend, like, all your time at his house?” he asks, shoulders dropping slightly. Max sees the move for what it is and grins broadly.

     “Well, yeah, but we won’t bother you! Promise.” Her promise isn’t worth shit, they both know it, and judging from Harrington’s knowing look, so does he. Billy’s icy eyes settle on the man.

     “You’re awful quiet over there,” he grumbles. Steve’s shoulders rise and fall in a loose shrug.

     “I wouldn’t have agreed to do it if I didn’t want to,” he replies. “It’s like Max said, we aren’t friends or anything, but she’s convinced you’ll get better faster at my place. If it means that much to her, then I’m game.” Billy’s eyes narrow as they consider Steve. Brown eyes blink back at him, wide and surprisingly kind all things considered. He really hates that. He hates that Max is so worried. He hates most of all that this is his best bet in all truthfulness. A heavy sigh escapes him, turning into a defeated groan as it draws out.

     “This is only until I think I’m better,” he relents, scowling at Steve’s relieved look and Max’s elated bounce. “I don’t give a shit what the two of you think, when I think I’m done, I’m done. And don’t think we –“ A hand shoots out to point at Steve warningly. “ – are gonna get chummy or something. I’m only doing this to get her to shut up.” The beta’s shoulders relax as he leans into his seat. Max, standing beside Harrington, grins broadly.

     “And I promise, I won’t say anything about it,” she relents. “You can come home as soon as you’re better again.” She moves closer to him, wraps her smaller hand around his, and squeezes, a hesitant smile on her face. This is another new thing about their relationship, the ease with which Max shows her affection now. Billy supposes that’s what happens when you almost die. And he likes it, really. Even if he’s been shit at showing it over the years, he does care for Max. He’s protected her from Neil for a long time, and she’s patched him up more times than he’s willing to count. Their dynamic has always been a strained one. But the way Billy’s seen it, his dad’s a bad alpha, and he’s always needed to step up and take that position for the pup.

He’s not sure he’s ever been particularly good at it, but he’s trying, you know?

     And so it’s settled that day. Billy’s going to move in with his high school rival, and he can’t make sense of it for the life of him.

     The thing is, Steve’s not really used to the idea of having a pack. Richard Harrington needed an heir for his company, and Antonella Bianchi-Harrington thought a baby would solve her marriage problems; that was the only reason they’d had a pup. Both had planned on a quiet, strong alpha son, but Steve destroyed that concept the moment he was born; of all the dynamics, only omegas could be spotted at birth due to their genitalia, and when Richard saw what his son was he nearly abandoned him in that hospital. Antonella’s maternal instincts demanded they keep him however, and so he was brought home; that was where her mothering ended, essentially. Growing up, Steve didn’t know that was the cause for his parents’ distaste for him. He knew they despised omegas, but he hardly knew what an omega was, and certainly didn’t know he was a part of that group. All he knew was that his father always looked at him with disgust, that his mother avoided him like the plague, that they never talked about dynamics except when Richard felt like sneering about omegas and boasting about alphas.

     Neither of them were home when a thirteen-year-old Steve woke up drenched in sweat, his leaking slick soaking the mattress, his abdomen cramping and his mind panicked and hazy. He suffered three days in that state, cried and curled up in bed trying to comfort himself. On the fourth day, he made his way to Melvad’s to purchase scent blockers, and that’s how he’s lived life up to this point. That day he presented was the day it clicked, the day he’d realized why his parents despised him.

     And the thing was, he couldn’t blame them, still can’t blame them. Male omegas are a rarity, and many people think of them as abominations. Those who ended up with women are seen as unmanly, and those who end up with men are called names Steve wouldn’t dare repeat in his own head, let alone out loud. Steve knew that before he presented, and he knows it now, so he’s kept his presentation a secret. As far as Hawkins is concerned, he’s just a beta, and he’s not planning on telling anyone otherwise anytime soon.

     But he’s got the kids now.

It was a matter of instinct; Dustin needed help, and so he helped. Max feared Billy’s rage in the Byers’ home, so he fought the alpha. Mike wanted a listening ear to rant about Nancy too, so he began letting the kid come over. He never meant to adopt the gaggle of older pups, but here he is, constantly scenting them and making sure they’re safe and comfortable. Will likes to joke that Steve’s become their pack omega. He’s not entirely wrong, but Steve’s not going to tell him that.

     And it’s the first time he’s been allowed to be himself, really. With the kids, Steve can just be an omega, he can worry over them and fuss and feed them copious amounts of baked ziti. Steve can let them curl up on his chest and groom their hairlines and listen to their troubles. He can mother them about and spoil them to his heart’s content. He’s allowed to give in to his instinctive need to nurture and care for and protect, and he’s beyond grateful because he can’t do this for other people.

     He especially can’t do it for Billy fucking Hargrove, if he wants to keep some sense of dignity. And that’s going to be easier said than done. He sits in his Beamer and watches silently as Max guides the familiar blonde out of the hospital doors. He looks good, Steve decides. He’s got a little limp, looks a little stiff, but he’s moving on his own mostly, and judging from the faint noise Steve hears and the annoyed, faraway look on Max’s face, his talkative attitude hasn’t taken a hit. The omega takes a deep breath and prepares himself as the passenger door is yanked open by Max.

     “ – Which is why I’m half-tempted to write to one of those big-time newspapers and tell them all about this shit,” Billy is ranting. Max looks ready to stab someone.

     “Can you shut up and get in the car, please?” she growls. The elder of the two alphas obeys without much of a fuss, easing himself into the passenger seat while Max deposits herself in the back.

     “Hey, what did those fuckers do with my Camaro?” Billy questions, his sharp eyes landing on Steve with an accusatory look. “You totaled my baby, Harrington, you might owe me a new fucking car.”

     “I’m not buying anyone a car,” Steve replies, throwing his car in reverse and backing out of the parking lot. The Camaro is sitting in Hopper’s driveway at the moment, Steve asked the chief to help him fix it after the mall incident, after learning that the other boy was still alive. The keys are sitting in a dish in his kitchen right now. But Steve’s not handing that thing over until he’s sure the blonde is capable of driving without keeling over and dying on the side of the road. Billy makes a face at him, narrowing his eyes.

     “Well, you at least owe me a pack of smokes, amigo,” he drawls, that stupid smug look creeping over his freckled features. Steve makes an indignant sound.

     “Are you fucking insane, Hargrove?” he spats. “You’ve been in how many lung surgeries and you want to smoke? Absolutely fucking not.”

     “Aw, you’re no fun,” the alpha groans, slouching in his seat and reaching out to lazily flick the radio to life. Steve’s eyes drift off the road long enough to glare at the other boy.

     “Stop complaining and put your damn seatbelt on.” Billy growls, but obeys again, switching the station to some garish rock music and turning it up loudly. Steve’s head is beginning to throb.

     “Hey Steve,” Max pipes up, “can we stop by McDonald’s?” He notes with interest the way Billy perks up at the mention of the restaurant. It’s been months since the guy’s eaten anything outside of the hospital’s shitty cuisine, he supposes greasy fast food sounds as good as a five-course meal in his grandmother's Venetian home right now.

     “Yeah, yeah, alright.” Billy’s master plan must be to drive Harrington crazy, because he begins chanting various menu items like a child as Steve zips down the road.

     To Billy’s credit, if that’s his plan then it’s working. Steve’s considering driving into the next tree he sees.

     He dishes out a stupid amount of money at McDonald’s; Billy demands four burgers, a hefty order of fries, and a huge milkshake. Max settles for one burger, and Steve orders chicken nuggets for himself, much to Billy’s amusement. He teases Steve most of the way home. The brunette throws a nugget at him at some point and Max laughs so hard she chokes on her root beer. Billy is blissfully silent after that, though he grins triumphantly as he chomps on the thrown piece of chicken.

     In a stunning turn of events, today is meant to be a kid-free day. Steve drops Max off at the Byers residence on the way home and cruises on into Loch Nora. Billy’s silence comes to an end with a low whistle. “Damn, pretty boy, I forgot you live in Rich People Central,” he muses. “I’m gonna get so bored around here, everyone knows rich people are stuck up as all hell.” Steve doesn’t feel like dignifying that with a reply, his hands flexing around the steering wheel instead. By the time they pull into the driveway of the Harrington family’s ridiculously large house, Billy’s openly staring at him, and the omega finds himself on edge. He slows to a stop in his long driveway, turns off the engine, and turns to meet that blue-eyed stare, his eyebrows arched upwards. Billy’s eyes are completely unreadable, he hates it.

     “Do you want a picture, Hargrove?” he deadpans. The alpha skips over the question and instead offers his own.

     “Shitbird says you’re here alone most of the time, that true?” Steve’s hackles go up faster than anything, his arms crossing over his chest as he glares openly at the boy across from him.

     “Why the fuck do you care?”

     “Never said I did, Harrington.” Billy holds his hands up in a placating gesture, before settling back in his seat. “Just wanna make sure I don’t wander into the kitchen one morning with my dick out and find Misses Harrington trying to enjoy her coffee or something.” Steve scoffs and rolls his eyes, getting a cheeky grin in response.

     “If I have to wake up and see your dick in the morning when I’m drinking coffee I’m kicking you out, Steve announces, getting out of the car. He hears Billy follow him up to the door, and once the two get in the shorter boy whistles again.

     “Your house feels like a fucking museum, Harrington, you really live in here?” Steve makes a beeline for the kitchen.

     “Yes, I do. And you do too, for the time being.” The brunette yanks the fridge open and grabs a bottle of soda off the shelf. “I let Max bring some clothes and shit over the other day, it’s all in the guest room down the hall on the right.” Steve pauses to give the boy a pointed look. “Do not go into the room on the left, nobody goes in there.”

     “Ooh, sounds ominous. What’s in there, all the Harrington family secrets? Family skeletons? Real skeletons?” Billy’s eyebrows waggle obnoxiously, and Steve rolls his eyes with a long-suffering sigh.

     “No, it’s my dad’s office. Nobody goes in there but him. And it’s where the good booze is, and I don’t need you drinking me dry.” Steve already did that a little over a month ago, nearly got alcohol poisoning during a bad night. hopper found him passed out by the pool and took the omega to Indianapolis to buy replacements; he doesn't think the chief will be too keen about helping out again so soon. To his surprise, Billy doesn’t offer any sort of reply, oddly silent behind him. Steve turns around, another soda bottle in hand to offer to the alpha, and finds him staring at the counter. At the dish on the counter. At the keys in the dish on the counter. The omega moves closer and swipes them up, depositing the metal in his back pocket. “You can’t drive yet, don’t even think about it.”

     “You have my car?” Blue eyes look around as if the Camaro might appear right there in the kitchen. Steve shakes his head, then nods, then shakes again.

     “It’s not here, if that’s what you’re asking.”

     “It was fucked to hell, why do you have the keys?” Billy’s face is completely serious now, his body leaning towards Steve’s intently. The taller boy frowns deeply and takes a step back, his eyes shifting away.

     “I, uh, well. Hopper and I fixed it up. Figured you might want it back. We had to repaint it, I don’t think the color’s exactly right, but it’s working now.” Billy’s eyes stare a little longer.

     “Why’d you put me in the room downstairs?” Steve frowns again, brows furrowing in confusion.

     “You’ve still got stitches in, and Max says the doctors said you shouldn’t go up and down stairs.” Large brown eyes blink at the alpha, who seems to be thinking hard about something, before Billy’s face twists into a sneer.

     “What’s your game, Harrington? Why are you doing this?” Steve hasn’t been this confused since high school math.

     “You needed a place to go, and I’ve got space,” he replies slowly. “It means a lot to Max, and if it matters to her it matters to me. Just wanted to be helpful.” Blue eyes narrow and he stares at Steve for a long time. The omega shifts on his feet awkwardly before finally holding out the unopened soda bottle. “You thirsty?”

     It’s meant to diffuse the odd tension, and it works. Billy blinks, looks between Steve’s face and the soda bottle before he shakes his head and takes the offered drink, all smug charm and general obnoxious snarkiness again.

     “Alright, alright. Gimmie the grand tour, pretty boy. I wanna see as much of the Harrington Mansion Museum as I can.” Steve isn’t quite sure what just happened, but he obliges easily and begins making his way down the hall, shaking his head in wonder. Maybe he sould have thought a little harder about letting his old rival stay in his house; this is already beginning to feel like the beginning of a very chaotic nightmare.

[someflareoutwithlove]

Mobile Friendly Muse List [With links]

start off easy, for the canon characters i have i will link you to their wiki pages. if you know them, you don’t need to look into them. if you don’t know them, bonus. i might add in things i play them as, how i play their sexuality and all that.

steve harrington [stranger things/dead by daylight]

i play him as closeted bisexual.

lovable mom friend

ashamed of who he once was

peter b. parker [into the spider verse]

important to note: i have not read the comics, nor have i seen the new spider-man movies yet. i just love p.b.b

grumpy but loving

snarky bitch

Gordie [Pokemon Sword]

Hard working

Figure skater and gymnast

Stubborn 

Greysexual, Biromantic. 

Byakuya Togami   [Icon credit before editing] 

Bastard 

Entitled 

Worlds most tactless man

Yet another snarky bitch to add to my snarky bitches

Ellis [Left 4 Dead 2] 

Optimistic 

Childish 

Care-free 

Big ol’ heart. 

Kokichi Oma 

Little shit

He’s probably lying 

Small 

Prankster 

now, for my ocs. some of them i play more than others. i will list them that way, the top being the one i play the most, and the bottom being the one i play the least.

Damien Grey:

snarky

anxious

Maine boy

seafood snob

tidy

tall

Elijah J. Jackson:

jolly

lawyer

chatter-box

clever

loving

Sabrina “Nina” Gomez

Loud

Animal loving 

Hard working 

forgetful 

Dr. Oliver Crain

Sly

Passionate 

Cunning 

Manipulative

Polite 

[skullrock]

72 & 81 if ur still taking prompts :-)

“you might not like me, but you definitely want me.” // “your lips make me wonder what the rest of you would taste like.”

WIGGGG LETS GO

===

Steve Harrington was an insufferable jerk.

Steve Harrington snuck into your bedroom at 12 am with intent to settle your dispute.

Steve Harrington was wearing sweatpants that hugged his bulge just perfectly.

The argument was at his advantage, as you were unable to take your eyes off of his dick long enough to dispute his claims. His claims that he’s not the jerk, you are, and you find him irresistible, not reprehensible, as you’d recently claimed.

“Admit it,” he smiles, arms crossed. “You might not like me, but you definitely want me.”

You scoff, attention darting to his face. “As if!”

“You don’t want me?” He asks. “Then why are you staring at my....” He gestured to the area, and you blush and look away.

“I’m not looking at your ....” You mimic his gesture.

Steve smiles smugly, taking a step towards you. “What are you looking at, then?”

“Fuck off, Steve,” you sigh, forcing your eyes to look at literally anything other than him.

But Steve’s not a smug bastard for nothing. He reaches for your arm, pulling you flush against his chest. “Come on, Y/N. Admit it.”

“Steve,” you groan, acutely aware of his hard on pressing against you. “Why don’t you admit that you want me?”

It’s his turn to scoff. “Why would I ever want a snobby jerk like you?” He pulls you even closer, an arm wrapped around your waist tightly. “A little know it all.” He tilts your chin up and leans in. “A high maintenance, stubborn, bratty....”

His lips connect with yours, and months of sexual tension reach their climax. You pull him onto the bed, letting him rest between your thighs. His hands immediately go to the hem of your shirt, helping you remove it before massaging a breast. He slips his tongue in your mouth as you moan, cursing yourself for giving in this easily.

“Your lips make me wonder what the rest of you would taste like,” he murmurs, his lips kissing down your neck. He stops to suck hickeys into the skin, savoring your moans and whines. He arrives before your core, grinning at how wet you are.

“You know, you gave in so easily,” he says. He reaches out and runs a finger over you, making you shiver. “I knew you had a thing for -“

You pull him up quickly. Pushing him into the mattress and straddling him, you smile at how wide his eyes are. You grind down on his erection, making him moan. “You were saying?”

Steve attempts to pull himself up, but you just push him back down. You grind down on Steve once more and he grips your hips, a low moan erupting from his lips. You continue to grind, allowing yourself to get wetter and wetter. Steve’s blissed out, not that he’ll admit it. He won’t give in first - but neither will you.

Soon enough, you’re both fucking, continuing to act like it’s a game. You’re riding Steve roughly, watching as his head throws back and his mouth drops open. “Like that, baby? You like me fucking you?”

Steve flips you over now, pounding into you and kissing you harshly. His fingers rub your clit and you cry out. Steve moans, pace quickening as he feels the coil tighten in his gut. “Gonna cum for me?”

“You’re going to cum for me,” you breathe. You reach up and grab Steve’s hair, giving it a tug. Steve cums almost immediately, and you unravel at the same time, riding out your highs together. Steve props himself up on his elbows again, kissing you passionately.

“That was a tie,” he pants.

“You definitely have it more for me -“

“Can you ever let us have one good moment? Jesus.”

[the-gongoozler]

POST-TROS Trilogy reactions, my own opinions.

I just saw The Rise of Skywalker. These are my opinions as someone who doesn’t follow any of the actors (besides Adam Driver’s charity because that’s something I wrote a paper on) or fandom drama (racism! sexism! something happened with John Boyega?)

Preface: I don’t need outrage. I don’t care. I will block you if you’re rude, period. This is my opinion and I am not a crazy fan, I just watch the movies about once a year and I enjoy every single one of them. I loved The Rise of Skywalker and found it to be a fantastic full circle for the entire 9 movie series as well as the trilogy. Don’t need any negative vibes, thank you :)

Ben Solo

I really enjoyed Ben Solo. It felt like the point of the series was the redemption arc of Ben Solo. It was a symbolic repeat of Anakin/Vader’s story line. Anakin was alone, taught by masters, tempted by the dark side, and then turned into a completely separate man. They both came back to themselves in time to save the day, but there is a massively key difference. Darth Vader is not Anakin, he is the darkness that lives inside of Anakin (and everyone has this darkness). Kylo Ren was the corrupted Ben Solo, but he never got the foothold in Ben’s psyche that Vader got in Anakin’s. Anakin was controlled by Vader completely whereas Kylo Ren never had complete control over Ben (first example I can think of: He didn’t shoot Leia when he had the opportunity to kill her). In the body of Anakin Skywalker, there is only Vader, whereas Ben’s body has two battling minds: Ben v. Kylo Ren.

What I found really really cool was that Rey killed Kylo Ren. On the Death Star II in IX, where Darth Vader died in VI, Kylo Ren dies when he is stabbed by Rey. Then, with Rey’s help, Ben Solo is reborn as the only mind in his body. He was healed by light and love and then told that if he was just Ben Solo, she would have taken his hand. If he hadn’t thought that he needed the Dark Side to be whole, he might have had everything that he could possibly hope for (romantic love, familial love, a future, power).

The tragedy of Ben Solo is that Luke saw him tempted by darkness and accidentally pushed him toward the darkness. If Luke had talked to him, expressed love and understanding instead of fear, then Ben Solo would never have been controlled by Kylo Ren. Instead, he fell and was corrupted only to be brought back by someone truly understanding him (which, other than through unstoppable access to his deepest thoughts,would have never happened) and then choosing to love him because of that understanding. Ben didn’t have to bring Rey back, he could have just mourned her and disappeared to live his life, but he was driven to sacrifice himself by the love he felt for Rey.

I am a HUGE fan of a redemption arc and I think they pulled it off beautifully for him. His last words ever spoken (while holding Rey’s lifeless body) were “Can you hear me? Hold on.” The instant recognition of his goodness by Rey, the smile on his face when he saw the result of his sacrifice, and then their kiss (a recognition of his return to himself) was honestly just... it was achingly gorgeous. I really liked the film.

Rey

A strong force wielder, a mechanic, a scavenger, and an orphan. She kicks ass, she takes names, and she is the strongest Jedi the world has ever seen. Love her.

Finn

Finn is cool in VII and IX. He was funny, smart, and helpful in the first and last of the trilogy, both playing a stand alone and serious character while providing good comic relief. I also really appreciate the platonic nature of the relationship between him and Rey, something that could have turned romantic. He’s a good soldier and he found his way out of the ranks of the Storm Troopers on his own. He’s obviously less developed in VII because it’s the first movie, but he’s generally a nice guy (not a Nice Guy) and I was excited to see more from him. I loved his connection to BB-8 and Poe immediately.

In VIII, he did more harm than good. Had he not disobeyed orders and left the ship, less people would have died. He left the ship, freed that guy from jail, then that guy gave the plans away and made the bad guys aware of the escaping ships that they otherwise would have missed. If Finn had stayed put, those ships would have escaped. It was a failure in writing and his character would have been better served by not even being in the movie. His near-sacrifice didn’t even make sense to me? He would have been obliterated by the laser before he could have reached it anyway? Give him something more epic, thank you please.

Then, IX. He kicked ass. I don’t know what he was going to say to Rey, but everything he said to Poe was golden. They are a great duo and I enjoyed every moment they interacted. He was a good friend and he tried to keep his group together (mostly having to go after Rey when she was being a stubborn brick wall). I mean, Rey made it to the Death Star because she had a lot of experience with machinery and the force. He did it by sheer “I gotta save this dumbass” willpower. He had a similar energy to Steve Harrington in Stranger Things (”mommy steve”).

Poe Dameron

Love him. No complaints. He was Han Solo but less brash and more funny. He was funny as shit and I enjoyed him from the first moment we saw him. I really wish he was in more of the trilogy, but the parts that he was in were great. Him and Finn kicked some serious ass. I love the way that he incorporated Finn into his family unit immediately and then again with Rey. He is a dedicated and headstrong and funny pilot. That’s it.

Rose

Tbh, I don’t care too much about her? I just disliked everything she did/was involved in in VIII and the way she was introduced was mishandled, really. She was 100x better in IX and I definitely cared about her more. Her introduction felt rushed and forced and she was a big character before I cared about her at all, then she was put into the worst plot line in the whole series (discussed in the Finn section). I think that they could do more with her, but I don’t mind if they don’t.

Luke Skywalker

His whole thing was kinda bullshit? He was the catalyst for the birth of Kylo Ren, he abandoned the galaxy when it needed him most, and he wasn’t gay- those pussies. I didn’t like when he yeeted his light saber, it felt disrespectful.  I didn’t like the way he died. I did like his personality and the way that he dusted off when Kylo Ren shot him all those times.

Leia Organa

People I’ve talked to keep bitching about her using the force and like... what? She was always force sensitive and she had a long time to learn between series. Plus, she lived with or around Luke for a long time before he decided to fuck off into a corner of the galaxy. She was a general and a Jedi and a gorgeously perfect woman. I also love the way that she was always ready to give her son another chance. The only way to get someone to come back is to tell them they are welcome and no matter what he did (HAN SOLO) she could always accept him if he changed. Adore.

Han Solo

He was also ready to help his son, if it was necessary. He had faith that Ben could do what needed to be done. Also, the version of him that is in Ben’s memories is so sweet and fantastic. I loved that little bit. When Ben calls him “dad”?? my heart melted. Plus, his mentorship of Rey combined with him and Chewie’s interactions? God, he’s cool.

I didn’t like that he was so dispassionate though. That was bothersome, I would have thought he would have been more for-the-cause since he was connected to the rebellion the whole damn time. It would have been cool to have him havea moment where you saw that change.

Chewbacca, R2-D2, C3-PO, BB-8, and D-O

Obviously fantastic?

General Hux

rat bastard

Snoke

Weird thumb man

Palpatine

Aggressive tickle monster

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Another note-

Rey/Ben

I saw it coming the moment I watched VII. I really enjoyed it. They both were so closed off to the world and so horribly alone for various reasons, both in and out of their control. They were tempted by the dark side and anger and hurt and betrayal. They were scared of their own burgeoning power. Where Rey’s powers and temptation were met with support, Ben was met with fear. That drove him down.

Because of their force bond, they were literally soul mates. Not in a romantic way! They literally were made with an unbreakable connection through the force and that allowed them to speak and know the depths of their hidden thoughts and desires and fears. Ben knew Rey better than anyone else did and better than he knew anyone else, the same is true in reverse.

Rey could see the dual nature of his mind and understood his struggle. She knew Ben Solo and she knew Kylo Ren. She also recognized that it was his fight to win and that all she could do was offer her hand to take if he wanted it. She admitted outright that she would have stayed with him had he been just Ben Solo when he offered her a place by his side. She was in love with Ben Solo as soon as she knew him and that was shown very explicitly in that moment by the fire, when they were both vulnerable and curious. In the moments that he was Ben, she would reach out to him. When he was Kylo, she had no interest.

I love that she had no interest in Kylo Ren. She wasn’t about to stick around and fix him, that was his job. This sort of draws the line between physical attraction or shallow attraction and the true bond that she had with Ben Solo. She wasn’t drawn to him out of interest, she loved him and understood him and was not going to be tricked by that love into falling for Kylo Ren. Super strong choice for her and it goes against a lot of Enemies to Lovers tropes.

When she stabs him, she kills Kylo Ren. When she heals him, she revives Ben Solo. She all but says that she loves Ben and that provides the momentum that he needs to move forward. She held out her hand one last time by saying that she would have stayed with Ben, then escapes for her own safety and the safety of the Rebels in case he makes the wrong decision once again.

Then the fight scene where she transfers him the saber? The way that he limps over to her and hold her in his arms? The way he smiles when he looks at her beautiful lively eyes? The kiss that said “You saved my life/I’m so proud of you/You are the only person in my entire life that truly understands me” on both parts? Gawjus.