#i loved you with the fire red {steve and nancy}

[hauntedxwritings]

@stopthecarrrr

[sadhours]

steve with a degradation kink 👀 jokingly calling him a pervert and he gets so flushed and embarrassed

heheh no I love this

steve harrington x f!reader

cw: 18+ minors dni, smut, steve and reader are childhood best friends, one use of y/n, perv!steve, degradation kink, oral (f receiving), hand stuff

💖💖💖💖

you noticed your best friend reacted strangely to criticism. depending on the person. when his dad criticized him, his face went stoic and he replied to Mr. Harrington with one word answers. same kind of thing when his boss did it at work, though he wore his annoyance on his face then. when robin did it, he rolled his eyes. but when pretty girls who weren’t lesbians, at least to his knowledge, did it, his face got all flushed and his pupils would about double in size. and you found that intriguing. you’d done it plenty within the long years of your friendship but you’d never actually looked at how he responded. until one day.

a winter day. it was too cold to chill by the pool and the harrington’s were home. so you were confined to his horridly designed bedroom. god awful lamp lighting the room dimly as the sun was beginning to set. steve was propped up on the floor, back against his mattress as he tossed a baseball up and caught it. over and over. he looked as bored as you felt.

you got up from the floor and decided to go digging through his bedroom. not entirely sure what you were looking for but there had to be something entertaining in here. you start with his desk, opening drawers and scoping out the insides.

“yeah, just go through my stuff,” steve says with a shrug, voice dripping in sarcasm, “that’s totally cool.”

“oh, wah,” you mock him, “i’m bored. there’s gotta be something interesting tucked away in here.”

steve throws you an annoyed look, “yeah and that’s why i’m playing catch with myself.”

you ignore him, continuing to file through his belongings. you manage through his desk, then his dresser drawers and nightstand. it’s when you drop to the floor and peek under his bed that you find something. a box. you pull it out and steve scrambles to slam his hand on top of it.

“alright, ha ha ha, you had your fun! stop going through my stuff,” he says, eyes wide and worried.

you scoff, lips curling up with the exhale, “oh, no, that reaction tells me i just found the jackpot. what’s in the box, steven?”

“none of your business,” he says sternly, moving to slide it back under the bed but you stop it, fingers hooking into the lid and steve lunges forward, almost crushing the box with his body as he looks up at you panicked. “i mean it, y/n.”

“now i really gotta see what’s in here,” you go to tug it away and steve bear hugs the box. “c’mon, steve, i know every single one of your secrets. this can’t be that bad.”

“it’s personal, something’s you don’t need to know,” he insists, lips dropping into a frown.

you pull again, resulting in the pair of you wrestling for the box. the motions knock it over, spilling the contents out on the rug. to no one’s shock, it’s porn. magazines and two tapes. but kind of surprisingly, there’s panties and uh, Polaroids of Nancy. Not explicit by any means. Just photos of her smiling.

“oh, Steve,” you grab one of the photos and hold it up to inspect, “Nancy made it in the spank bank? Ya know, these aren’t even dirty, you don’t have to like, hide them.”

“Please, for the love of God,” his face is as red as a fire truck, it’s kind of… cute, seeing Steve so embarrassed. He’s usually so calm and collected. The coolest dude you know. “Stop looking.”

“Why?” you giggle, “This is by far the most interesting thing in this room.”

Then you tilt your head as you see it. Oh. That’s why. There’s Polaroid of you. In a bikini. In the backyard, lounged by the pool. Steve scrambles for it but you’re able to snatch it first.

“Oh, my god,” you gasp, examining the photo carefully. You remember the day it was taken. Just this past summer. You’d gotten a new bikini, you were excited to wear it. Red. “Like Phoebe Cates,” Steve had said and you uh, surprisingly didn’t pick up on it. That Steve looked at you like that. Looking back, it makes sense, the way he ran in to get his camera. The fact he compared you to a celebrity he’d been Gaga over.

He’s completely silent as he watches you connect the dots. Steve is attracted to you. Steve jacks off to you. You’ve made it in the spank bank. This information is intoxicating. It’s a mutual attraction. Hell, you can’t even count the amount of times you’ve laid back and flicked the bean with your best friend, Steve Harrington, in mind. The day he sprouted chest hair and his body got a little more muscular, you’d been bombarded with an overwhelming attraction to the guy. You swallow hard, then your eyes drop as Steve’s hand moves to grab a pair of underwear that was also in the box. You drop the photo and grab his wrist, eyes meeting his and the absolute panic in his eyes is… weirdly arousing to you. Then you see the pair, eyes scanning over the white cotton and faded print of cherries decorating them.

“Are those my underwear, Steve?” you ask, glancing back up at him.

“No,” he lies, won’t meet your eyes as he stares down at them in his hand.

“Did you steal my underwear, Steve?”

“Why would I do that?” he replies, looking up at you finally, trying to look nonchalant.

You swallow hard, you should be furious but you’re… you’re not. You’re turned on. This absolute creep behavior, but coming from Steve, it’s so… sweet and vulnerable. Makes you look into those big brown eyes and want to kiss his face all over. But Steve seems to like the humiliation. And it’s making your body erupt in desire.

“Because you’re a pervert,” you tell him, watching as his pupils double in size and he inhales sharply. He swallows and you see his Adam’s apple bob with the motion.

“No, I’m not,” he says, voice quiet and breathy.

“Yes, you are,” you tug the underwear from his hands and look down at them, trying to remember the last time you’d worn them. You and Steve has countless sleepovers, your parents trusted him beyond belief and his parents were rather distant. There were so many opportunities to fool around but it never happened. Which now you think is a little surprising, considering there was that attraction and you’d shared beds as hormonal teens. Can’t believe you’re discovering it now as “adults”. But maybe that’s why you feel bold enough to push him on his back, crawling over to straddle his waist and you can feel his erection hidden underneath his jeans. You hold up the panties, “You smell these while you jerk off to me?”

It’s almost as if you’re not yourself, watching this unfold from a outside perspective. You haven’t even been this confident with boyfriends before but you know Steve, and you’ve been wanting more than a friendship for quite some time. Steve jerks off to you, it’s new information that makes this almost impossible not to act on. It inflates your ego, makes your heart swell twice in size. Because the implication, he knows you better than anyone else, clearly the attraction has to be more than purely physical.

He doesn’t reply, swallows hard again and just stares up at you. His big brown eyes look hazy, aroused and you can feel that he is where your ass is sat against his crotch. He can’t deny he’s turned on. And you wiggle against him, to silently tell him you are too. Fuck, he’s your best friend. How long as he felt this way? Because you’re sure you’ve been in love with him for years. And to find out this way? Not to mention that he seems to be reacting to you calling him a pervert.

You shove the panties up against his nose, “You totally do. You sniff these and stare at the picture while you jerk off! You’re such a perv, Steve!”

He writhes against you, moaning pathetically against the cotton.

“That’s disgusting,” you laugh, playing the part and he whines this time, closes his eyes and sniffs the panties. it’s so hot, and embarrassing at the same time. You’re almost at a loss for words but he seems to like when you make fun of him. “You’re so pathetic, oh my god.”

He opens his eyes, begging you silently. You inhale sharply before continuing. “Bet they don’t even smell like me anymore. I’ve been missing these for months,” you comment, shoving them against his nose once more before standing up. Steve watches you intently, frozen on the ground. You slide the pair of panties you’re currently wearing down your thighs, kicking them off and picking them up before you straddle Steve again. You can feel how soaked they are in your palm. So you shove them against his nose, giggling as you ask, “They used to smell like this?”

Steve’s eyes widen before they roll back as he inhales your scent, no doubt feeling how wet they are.

“You like that?” you laugh cruelly, “god, steve. i didn’t know you were such a sad, pathetic pervert.”

“fuck,” he moans, rolling his hips up at you and the rough denim catches against your clit, pulls a noise from you that has your eyes widening and your dominant demeanor faltering as you grind back down on him. Steve’s eyes meet yours and Christ, he looks pretty and desperate.

“You like me telling you what a perv you are, huh?” you ask.

“yeah,” he breathes out, hands closing into fists by his sides as he rolls his hips up again.

you gasp, trying to maintain composure as his jeans run against your clit again. you wonder if steve can feel how wet you are, if you’re soaking through his denim.

“such a pathetic loser,” you mutter, rubbing your soiled panties against his face, “so desperate for your best friend. wanna taste? go ahead, pervert, taste them.”

with your permission, steve opens his mouth and licks against your underwear. you shove them against him harder and he closes his lips around a bit of them, sucking your juices from the fabric. Moans when he does it, which makes you grind down harder against him.

“bet you’ve been dreaming about the real thing,” you breathe out, “huh, Stevie? you stroke your cock and imagine licking my pussy?”

“mhm,” he replies, still sucking on the cotton. his eyes are so wide and pretty as he stares up at you.

“such a loser,” you pout, tilting your head as you watch him. “think you deserve it?”

“please,” he begs, rolls his hips again.

“desperate for my pussy, aren’t you?” you ask but it’s funny, because you’re desperate for him.

Steve keens, jerks his hips up as his hands venture towards your hips before he drops them back at his sides. Like he’s nervous to touch you. You lean down, tossing your underwear aside as you hover your lips over his. Then you whisper, “Do you wanna eat me out, Steve?”

“Please don’t be fucking with me,” he replies, all soft and wrecked.

“That a yes?” you retort, licking your lips.

He nods, the motion makes his lips graze slightly against yours and it’s difficult not to kiss him. But your core is aching, just the idea of his gorgeous mouth on your heat has you a little feral and you rut down against him before inching up.

“Can I sit on your face, Stevie?” you ask, voice coming out more wrecked than you’d intended. Sounds weird on your ears. Didn’t know you could sound so sultry.

“Please,” he begs, writhing underneath you. “Fuck, please, pretty please sit on my face.”

You’re languid with the motion, pulling your skirt up as you climb up him and into position. He’s staring at your cunt, lips parted and pupils as wide as saucers. Licks his lips and you giggle, peering down at him as you begin to speak, “Look so desperate…”

He replies by wrapping his hands around your thighs and pulling you down on him. His mouth is warm and wet and determined. Steve elicits a moan as soon as he makes contact and it sends vibrations through your whole body. You gasp, holding your skirt up with your left hand while you push his hair off his forehead with the other. Steve is working his mouth on your cunt like he’s making out with it, tongue lashing and lips sucking all while he stares up at you and keeps moaning against your folds. You’ve had other men eat you out before but never like this. Never so determined, never seemed to be enjoying it so much.

There were rumors about Steve, you’d heard girls talk about this. You’d always feigned disgust. He was your best friend, you didn’t wanna hear about his bedroom skills. But deep down, you’d always wondered what he did differently. You haven’t ever had the urge to brag about the men you’d been with. They’d all been pretty mediocre.

The difference is Steve loves this. He’s hungry for it. His fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs, keeping you firmly against his mouth and he’s… he’s moving his head with the motions. Groaning into you.

Your lips fall open, brows knitting together as your fingers tug at the roots of his hair. Staring down at your gorgeous best friend as he devours you. Then his hands move up, snaking under the hem of your shirt and he unclasps your bra in quick time, impressing you briefly before his hands move knead and grope at your breasts. With the grip on your thighs gone, you’re able to move your hips and they grind down on his face on their own volition. Fuck, you’re trying to keep quiet but it’s hard. His tongue flicks against your clit, flat and repetitive as his fingers swirl around your pebbled nipples. You whine, riding his face as you chase your high. The deep, tight coil in your stomach is threatening to snap at any second. You don’t think you’ve ever cum so fast in your life.

“God, you fucking pervert,” you whine, writhing against his mouth, “Feels so fucking good.”

Steve moans his appreciation, eyes rolling back slightly. He pinches your nipple and you’re a goner. Eyes squeezing shut as bright stars of light dance around behind your lids. Steve’s taking it well, sucking and licking up all that you give him. Doesn’t stop until you’re pulling off of him and rolling onto your back beside him. You’re breathing heavily and it quickly turns into pleasure fueled giggles. Then Steve’s reaching for your hand and lacing your fingers, squeezing.

“So, uh, now you know my biggest secret,” he breathes out, and you turn to see the sweetest smile on his face.

You smirk, “That you’re a sick pervert? I did know that already.”

He flushes, turning and shoving his face against your neck. You roll over to wrap your hand around his middle and squeeze him. Your mouth against his ear as you whisper, “I uh, also touch myself to you. Just like thoughts though, not uh, not pictures.”

“I get it,” he mumbles, “I’m a giant perv.”

“You are,” you giggle, “But I like it. Should’ve known it when I wore that bikini and you said it reminded you of phoebe cates.”

Steve laughs at that, “Yeah, you’re kind of oblivious.”

“Shut up, perv,” you reply, moving your hand lower and palming against his cock strained by his jeans, “Or I won’t help you get rid of this.”

“Oh, you wanna help?” Steve asks, the humor wavering as he rocks his hips up at your hand.

“Uh-huh,” you pull back just slightly, so you can look at his face while you unbutton his jeans. He helps you get them down his thighs, briefs following suit. You lick your palm before wrapping your fingers around his cock, glancing down and gasping. Fuck, he’s huge. Your eyes dart back up to his face and he’s smiling, all cocky. He knows it’s big. You’re sure he’s been told so a hundred times so you don’t say anything. You squeeze him while gazing into his beautiful brown eyes, you’d always loved how they sloped just slightly down. And they were so big and wide, so expressive. They are right now as you start to slowly stroke him. He blinks rapidly, licking his lips.

“Can’t believe you look at a photo of me while you jack off,” you mumble, “Seriously, Steve. It’s pretty pathetic.”

There go those expressive eyes, full of arousal— desperation. You don’t avert yours as you squeeze his base, slow and deliberate as you stroke up and swipe your thumb against his weeping tip. You raise an eyebrow, “You get this wet when you’re jerking off to me?”

He whines, bites his lip as his eyebrows furrow. Looks so sweet and needy. It’s the prettiest Steve’s ever looked.

“It’s pathetic because Stevie, you could’ve had me this whole time,” you mumble against his lips, fingers spreading his precum down his shaft and he’s really so wet, you can hear it as you stroke him up and down. Making sure to squeeze where it counts, base and head. Repeatedly. He whines against you. Bucks his hips because you’re going too slow. So you pull your hand away, “Ah-ah, you need to be a good boy for me, Steve.”

He whimpers, music to your ears, “I’ll be good, I’ll be good. Don’t stop, baby.”

The pet name warms you all over. Can’t help but grip his cock again, stroking him more deliberately this time. He whines, all high pitched and pretty against your lips. You give up the teasing, determined to get your best friend off. Curving your palm on every upstroke, whispering against his lips, “Cum for me, baby. Show me what a sick, little pervert you are.”

Steve groans, moves his hand up to cup your jaw as he bucks his hips again. But you let him. Let him fuck your fist. His mouth falls open in a silent moan as he coats your hand in his release, eyes squeezing shut. It’s so hot, you feel your own slick coating your thighs from it.

You let go of him, he rolls on his back and smiles as he sighs, eyes still closed. You clean his mess up with your skirt, a problem to deal with at another time. And for the first time in your friendship, you and Steve are absolutely speechless. Laying side by side. But he’s the one to break the silence.

“Should we like, make out now?” he asks, propping himself on his elbow as he looks down at you, “Ya know, so it’s not weird.”

“Yeah, cus that’s what would make this not weird,” you tell him but you hook a leg over his waist and straddle him, grabbing onto his face and kissing him stupid anyways.

[keerysfreckles]

falling in — steve harrington

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: when a burnt down mall sends y/n to steve

warnings: use of y/n and she/her pronouns, steve got his ass beat (who's surprised), s3 spoilers duh, pure fluff/comfort, blood and injuries mentioned, pretty detailed makeout session

a/n: for my wife @keerysbrowneyes ily

masterlist !

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱

y/n sat nervously at the edge of her couch in her small living room. she watched her small flickering tv at the other end of the room with nothing but worry.

helicopters roaring, a blazing fire and multiple reporters surround the loved starcourt mall. y/n's heart almost burst out of her chest when one reporter stated most people made it out safely.

steve harrington was the first person to flood her mind. the girl hasn't heard of him for the past three days, which only made her nerves skyrocket.

"sources say scoops ahoy workers were at the scene, with multiple young kids and parents. . ."

y/n was out the door, struggling to put on her other shoe while running to her car.

—

y/n didn't even let the car come to a complete stop before she was running past concerned townspeople, reporters and cops. she easily slid under the caution tape and fit in between two firetrucks, not bothering to listen to the cops and other authorities yelling for her to stop.

y/n looked from left to right. she first saw nancy and jonathan, and robin sitting in the back of one ambulance. will was with his mother, with el and mike besides them. lucas was comforting max. she looked at the last ambulance and saw steve.

as soon as their eyes met, time slowed. steve dropped the blanket from his shoulders and y/n's worn out converse hit the asphalt again.

steve stood from the ambulance, and for the first time tonight a smile broke out onto his face. he didn't care it was hurting his eye.

his arms are wide open once y/n reaches him. hers instantly wrap around his shoulders as he lifts her off the ground.

"you're okay," y/n lets the tears fall from her eyes, her voice is strained. "you're here, you're really okay."

steve kisses the side of her head before setting her back on the ground, however neither of them let go of each other.

"i thought i lost you," y/n admits.

steve chuckles, "you could never get rid of me that easily."

y/n leans back, her eyes roaming over the boy in front of her. she sees the large bruise surrounding his swollen eye, and the tiny cuts on his lips.

steve copies her actions, not believing the girl in his arms is really here. this feels too much like a dream that he didn't want to wake up from.

y/n puts her hand gently on steve's cheek just as a tear falls from his right eye. his voice is soft and broken, "can you take me home?"

y/n nods immediately, and carefully takes his hand in hers to lead them both to her car. they're stopped briefly by a cop, to which they explain y/n would be taking steve home.

they sit in the car for a moment, while an abba song plays quietly over the radio. y/n leans forward to turn it off. she didn't think steve was in the mood to dance to anything, let alone listen to a happy pop song.

"are you okay?" y/n knew it was a stupid question to ask, but she had to ask anyway.

steve only nods, as he wipes his cheeks as more tears fall. y/n simply gives him her hand. his rough hand holds onto it the whole drive back to y/n's small one bed-one bath house.

"wait, i thought you were taking me home," steve announces once he watches her turn down the wrong street.

"you really think i'd let you stay home alone after whatever you went through?"

steve shrugs.

"how hard did they hit you?" y/n lets out an airy laugh, which steve reciprocates.

y/n looks over to the passenger side after parking on the street in front of her dark red door.

"thank you," steve's voice fills the silence of the car.

the two walk out of the and in the housr wordlessly. they both leave their shoes in a pile by the front door, and steve follows y/n to her room. he sees she left the tv and lights on, guessing she left in a hurry.

"you take a shower okay? then if you want i can help with the other cuts."

steve gratefully accepts y/n's offer. he lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding once he sits on the edge of y/n's bed. she comes out of the bathroom after starting the shower, and making sure it wasn't too hot.

steve holds his arms open again, making y/n walk towards him. she stands between his thighs as he rests his head against her chest, hearing the pulse of her heartbeat. the girl leans down to place a kiss on his matted curls.

"i'll be here when you get out," y/n whispers into his hair.

as steve showers, he's careful when he reaches and cuts or bruises, and can't help but let more tears fall. by the end of it he couldn't tell if it was tears or water running down his face.

he's quick to dry off and doesn't mind the water falling back onto his face and neck from his wet hair.

he noticed his dried bloody work uniform was replaced by a pair of sweatpants, a tshirt and boxers. he smiled at the thought of y/n keeping a pair of his clothes here for him.

steve leaves the bathroom and is met with y/n coming back into her room with a small basket in her hands.

"hey," she smiles towards steve, "how are you feeling?"

"that was a must needed shower," he chuckles.

"what's that for?" he points to the wooven basket now placed on the bed.

"a couple things to help with your cuts."

after steve came over to y/n's house their junior year, with the aftermath of a fight with jonathan byers, the girl knew to keep a first aid kit just for steve.

y/n instructs for steve to lay on her bed. he gladly let a loud sigh leaves his lips once his back hits the mattress, making y/n chuckle.

she sits on the left side of steve, making her be in the middle of the bed. she easily leans over him to turn on the lamp placed on the night stand. steve can't help but blush at the close proximity.

"these are just wipes, to get any extra dried blood off," y/n starts walking him through the steps.

she's careful when wiping around the cuts on his lips, and is surprised he only winces once.

she moves to his hairline and bruise covering his eye. the swelling has gone down drastically, and she can now look at both of his beautiful brown eyes.

steve keeps his hands folded on his stomach while y/n takes care of him. she goes to the next step and takes peroxide and cotton balls to the cuts.

after the cotton meets his lips he grabs y/n's wrist. she mutters out many apologies, not meaning to hurt steve more.

"it's okay," he stops her rambling apologies, "just hurts way more than i thought it would."

y/n continues treating his wounds. every so often steve's eyes would float to her features. to her concerned eyes, crinkling at the corners. or to her hair that kept falling over her ear, to which she always put back, yet it never stayed.

y/n finally takes a warm towel, steve guessed was from the dryer, and she dabbed it over his lips and eye. she watched his shoulders relax as she held it over his eye.

"are you alright?" she felt like she asked the question a million times tonight.

steve nods, "never better."

another comfortable silence fills the room. steve now sits up, making y/n bring the towel to her lap. steve breaks the silence.

"did you always have that freckle?" his thumb traces the light freckle on her cheek. she blushes from the contact. before she answers, steve moves his hand to fix the strands of hair that have fallen in front of her ear. his hand goes back to holding her cheek.

y/n's eyes move between both of steve's brown ones.

"steve," y/n warns in a whisper as he starts moving closer to her.

"i want you y/n. thats the one thing i've never been more sure of tonight."

his soft words leave a tickling breath over y/n's lips.

y/n makes the move to lean forward. her right hand reaches to hold onto steve's bicep as her lips collide with his. the kiss only lasts for a few seconds before y/n pulls away. her cheeks are flushed as she sees steve's widened pupils.

steve simply pulls her back to him with the hand that was still on her cheek. he turns his head to deepen the kiss, and he can't help but smile against y/n's lips after feeling her hand move to his neck. she grips the damp hair, threading her fingers through it.

steve's left hand goes to y/n's lower back as he moves her to lay down. he's now hovering over her, with his thighs falling between hers.

the two pull away, both with blown pupils, flushed cheeks and swollen lips.

"do you want me to stay–"

"yes."

steve couldn't even finish his question before y/n answers quickly and pulls him down tp kiss him again, with much more hunger than before.

[andvys]

I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 22

Warnings: none. mostly fluff. slight jealousy.

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader , Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: The summer days get hotter and your feelings confuse you more and more. A day at the lake might make things better.. or worse.

Word count: 4.7k

A/N: So, I really really struggled with this chapter and spent more time rewriting it than actually writing it. I'm sorry if it seems a little scattered and rushed, I promise the next one will be better. @hellfire--cult thank you as always, you were such a big help, you always are but especially with this chapter so thank you, love

series masterlist

-

Steve never thought that he would end up here. Working at some ice cream shop with a girl who despised him for the first few weeks. He couldn’t blame her. Robin is your friend, she knows what he did to you and it’s not just that. Up until this spring, he didn’t even really know who she was, she was just someone he passed by in school and didn’t even bother to glance at or even acknowledge.

Now that he got to know her a little, he couldn’t help but take a liking towards her. She may be snappy at times but she is.. cool. He likes her. Not in the way he liked Nancy or you. But, in a way he should’ve liked Nancy – just as a friend. 

He calls her friend. Robin refuses to call him that. 

She likes to pretend that they are enemies but really, they finally get along after weeks of bickering at Scoops Ahoy. After a little incident that got them locked up in the storage room for a whole night, they got even closer – who knew that weed and a little heart to heart would get them to like each other?

Robin looks at Steve differently now, her looks aren’t filled with hate or annoyance anymore – well, she still rolls her eyes and makes fun of him but it’s not the same anymore. 

Sometimes when you’re around, she gives him pitiful looks. He can’t stand it. He doesn’t want or even deserve pity, not from her, not from anyone.

She is looking at him with that look right now. 

He sighs, trying to give her somewhat of a smile before he looks down at the red solo cup in his hand. Your giggles make his heart flutter and hurt at the same time. You are sitting on one of the logs around the fire, with Eddie. His jacket is wrapped around your shoulders, your legs are thrown over his thigh, you are practically sitting on his lap. You are nodding along to something he’s saying. 

You two are in your own little world, ignoring the rest of the people around you. It’s hard to tell what the two of you are. Every day, he wonders if you have made that move yet. The one he made with you back when you went from friends to something more. 

People are celebrating the fourth of July with a bonfire party at Lovers Lake, just like every year. In all the previous years before this one, you were by his side, giggling at something he would say, wearing his jacket, sitting on his lap. 

Now you sit there with Eddie. 

And it all feels so wrong, you shouldn’t be there with Eddie. 

You belong with him. 

“Are you okay?” 

Robin’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts, he looks at her, nodding. 

She tilts her head, giving him another pitiful look. 

“You’re not drunk, are you?” 

He shakes his head, chuckling softly, “no, whenever I get drunk or high I end up doing or saying something stupid.” 

She chuckles, though, it’s more of a sad chuckle. When they got stuck in the storage room, Steve opened up about a lot of things – things that he would have never talked about had he been sober. 

He let her have a look inside. 

Robin didn’t think that she would ever understand Steve and why he left you. But, she understands him now, a little. 

He was scared of how much he loved you. 

“Do you wanna go home?” 

“Nah, I’m your ride, remember?” 

She pats his back, giving him a smile, “that’s right, dude. You should go and have some fun.”

He snorts, shaking his head. He glances at you, not expecting to see you looking at him – staring at him. He can’t read the look in your eyes but he can see the smile that tugs at your lips. You raise your hand, waving at him, shyly.  

His eyes light up, his lips twitch. 

Robin notices the look on his face, the happiness that takes over in an instant. She follows his gaze. 

“Do you wanna go talk to her?” Robin asks, nudging his shoulder.

He looks at you with softened eyes. His shoulders fall when you break eye contact, turning away from him to face Eddie again. 

“No,” he whispers. 

“Why not?” Robin asks, knowing that he wants to talk to you.

“She’s with Eddie.”

“So? You talk to her every time they come to Scoops together.”

“That’s different.”

“How so?”

Steve nudges his chin towards you, “look at them.”

Robin sighs, looking over at you and Eddie. His arm is now wrapped around your shoulder, he is smiling as you whisper something in his ear. 

“I won’t interrupt that.”

She knows how Steve feels about you, she knows how Eddie feels about you but, what she doesn’t know is how you feel about them or how you feel in general. You don’t talk about your feelings, you don’t know how to, every time you did try to talk about them with her, you fell into a ramble, mixing up words, stringing together sentences that would make no sense, confusing both her and yourself. 

It wasn’t always like this. 

You used to be able to talk about your feelings. You never rambled or broke down in the middle of a sentence and she felt like you were getting better after each conversation you had. 

Then, you went on that date with Ray and everything went downhill after that. 

You spent so much time trying to get over the pain that Steve had caused you. You got stronger and more confident. And it seemed as though you got – or, started to get over him. It took months to get up and all it took was a night to fall back down. 

She sighs. 

“I get it, Steve.”

-

“Careful.”

“I am careful!” 

“No, you’re not! You’ve been on this ladder unsupervised.” 

“So?”

“So? You’re a clutz!” 

You roll your eyes, snorting at his words. 

“No, I’m not, Eddie.” 

You finish taping the new Metallica poster to the wall, glancing down at him, “alright, give me the next one, please?” 

Eddie chuckles, he lets go of the ladder and leans down, reaching for the last poster in the box. He unrolls it and his eyes widen. 

“Holy shit, that’s a new Iron Maiden poster!” He gasps, staring up at you with big eyes. 

You giggle, nodding, “I ‘accidentally’ ordered two.”

He furrows his brows. 

“Got one extra for you.”

His eyes light up and a smile appears on his face.

“No fucking way!”

You laugh at his little outburst. 

“It’s in the breakroom, I’ll get it after I put this one up,” you say, pointing to the poster in his hand. 

“You’re the best, did I ever tell you that? In case I haven’t, you’re the best, sweetheart!” 

He holds it out for you, grinning at you as your eyes meet. 

You shake your head in amusement, giggling, “I think you are the best but thanks.”

He grabs the ladder again, eying you with a smile on his face. 

To know that you thought of him while making orders for the store, to know that you got something for him, something that he didn’t even ask for, makes him so happy. 

“So, what are we doing tonight?” You ask. 

He watches the way you furrow your brows as you tape the poster right next to the Metallica one. You bite your lip, focusing on getting it even. 

“Uh, I’m not sure, what do you feel like doing?” 

“Dinner and a movie night?” You suggest, “Heather is throwing a party but I don’t feel like going.” 

“Me neither.” 

“So, dinner and movies it is.” 

“Sounds perfect to me, bab– s-sweetheart,” he clears his throat. 

Baby. He wanted to call you baby. 

Your cheeks heat up. You dare to glance at him, finding him looking completely flustered. His eyes are closed, his brows are knit together and his cheeks glow red. Cute. You have to suppress a giggle. 

“Alright, all done!” You clap your hands together after finishing hanging up the last poster. You grab the tape and the scissors, handing them to Eddie before you make your way down the ladder. 

“Careful,” he teases you. 

You only roll your eyes in response. You jump on the ground, looking up at him with a proud smile, “see? Not a clutz.” 

You shouldn’t have spoken too soon. The moment you take a step forward, you trip over the open box on the ground, stumbling forward. His hands land on your waist.

Your hands fall to his chest, your knee buckles but you don’t fall, he holds you tightly. 

“Not a clutz, huh?” He chuckles as he looks down at you. 

“That was an accident,” you pout, looking up into his eyes. 

You furrow your brows, his racing heart that you feel beneath your touch pulls your attention to his chest and for the first time, you notice how much bigger he actually is, how much taller he is. 

How did you not notice before?

“Hey guys!” 

Robin’s panicked voice causes the both of you to flinch. You both turn to look at her, frowning in confusion when you see the way she looks between you both. 

You slowly step away from Eddie. 

Why is she looking at you like that? Nothing happened.

“Hey,” you smile as you lean down, picking up the empty box. 

Eddie gives Robin a questioning look, tilting his head to the side. 

Her eyes are wide and she’s smiling, nervously. 

What the hell is she so nervous about?

A moment later, Steve walks into the store. Oh, right. Her new best friend, the one who gets jealous at every interaction he sees between you and him. Eddie rolls his eyes, not at him but at Robin and how protective she is of his feelings.

“Oh hey,” Steve mumbles, turning to look at Robin in surprise, “you come here on your day off?” 

She nods, stepping further into the store, “yep.”

“Buying new records for the car you don’t have?” He teases, smirking. 

“Ha ha,” she rolls her eyes. 

He chuckles and finally turns to face you. 

“Hey.”

You smile at him, “hi.”

Steve glances at Eddie who turns away, pretending to look around.

“So uh, what are you two doing here?” You ask, chuckling. 

Robin raises her brows, pointing at Eddie, “what’s he doing here?”

You walk behind the counter, putting the box down. You reach for the drink on the counter, lifting it up, “he brought me coffee and lunch.”

Robin nods, tilting her head, she smiles at Eddie, “you’re such a sweet friend, Eddie.”

He rolls his eyes at her, mumbling something under his breath before he turns away again. 

“I uh– I wanted to ask if you wanted to spend lunch break with me but, I see you got something already,” Steve mumbles, running his fingers through his hair as he looks down. 

“Oh, maybe next time?” You ask, trying to give him a smile.

‘Maybe next time’ sounds like a nicer version of ‘no, thank you.’

Steve knew that it was a mistake to come here and ask you to spend time with him, alone. But, he wanted to try. 

“W-We can go out for lunch together… on Monday?” You offer. 

His eyes light up and he looks up from the counter, he nods with a smile on his face. 

“I’d love to.”

He smiles at you and you smile at him. Neither of you notice the annoyed look on Eddie’s face. 

“And I wanted to ask if you wanna go to the lake tomorrow? You, me, Chrissy,” Robin smiles, “and your two uh–” she stops herself from saying what she actually wants to say as she gestures to Steve and Eddie, “buddies.” 

Steve squints his eyes at her, “buddies?” He whispers. 

“It’s supposed to get super hot tomorrow,” Robin says, ignoring Steve and Eddie’s glare. 

“Uh– sure, why not,” you shrug, “Eddie, do you wanna go?”

“Yeah, sure.”

You lift your brows, giving her a smile, “great.”

She lifts her hands, giving you two thumbs up, “great,” she grins, nudging Steve’s shoulder.

-

You should have known that Robin and Chrissy wouldn’t be here on time – poor Steve is probably in his car waiting for them. A part of you is relieved that Eddie didn’t have to pick them up though, you would still be waiting for them. 

You and Eddie are sitting on a large picnic blanket, looking at the water as you both snack on the grapes you brought. You are still in your sundress but the longer you sit out in the sun, the more you feel like ripping it off and jumping into the cold water. 

There aren’t many people around, a few kids with their parents, some teenagers you recognize from school but you and Eddie chose to sit away from everyone else. 

You are both quiet, enjoying each other’s company in silence as you wait for the others.

“They are taking so long,” you whine.

“I know,” Eddie chuckles. 

You glance at him, he stretches his legs out and leans back, looking at you with a smile on his face. 

“Do you wanna go swimming?”

You bite your lip, looking him up and down. You take your sunglasses off and put them on your bag. 

“If you come with me,” you say, giving him a sweet smile. 

“Do you think I’ll let you swim alone? There could be monsters and shit, I gotta protect you.” 

You laugh, shaking your head. 

“Monsters in Lovers Lake? The only monsters I see are those teenage boys – hold on, is that Carver?” You ask, scrunching your face up in disgust as you point at the blond who just jumped into the water, “you might be right, there are monsters.”

Eddie chuckles, “yeah, that’s a real monster.” 

You start to unbutton your dress. 

Eddie gets up, reaching for the hem of his shirt, he pulls it over his head, throwing it on the ground, it lands with a soft thud beside you. You look at the shirt as you push the dress down to your waist, looking up at Eddie. 

You have seen him shirtless before, countless times, actually. He is actually one of the only men you had seen shirtless – one was Steve, another one was Billy, but only because he walks around shirtless whenever he gets the chance to. Besides, he was never one that you had been attracted to. So, Billy doesn’t count. 

But you look at Eddie.

His body, his skin, his scent, different from the one you already know, the skin you traced. The freckles that are not on his skin, yet it is covered in tattoos. No sun kissed skin, yet still beautiful in its paleness. No brown luscious hair, but a messy mop of dark curls that still fall beautifully on his shoulders. Both beautiful, both different. But why are you even comparing?

“Ready to go?” 

You snap out of your thoughts, nodding. 

Sighing, you look down and finish taking your dress off. You press your lips together as you adjust your top. 

You hear the sharp breath he takes, the curse word that fell from his lips, the one he tried to cover with a cough. 

“I-Is t-that a new one?” He stutters, trying to rip his gaze away from your chest as he points to your swimsuit. 

You feel amused by the stutter, by the blush on his cheeks and the shakiness in his voice. 

“Yes,” you giggle. 

Eddie stares at you, at your body, at your soft skin that he is dying to touch. Your eyes that shine beneath the sunlight, the cherry red swimsuit that is hugging your body so perfectly. The way you look up at him with big eyes, parted and glossy lips. You look so gorgeous. 

“I love it.”

Your eyes widen and you are once again blushing. 

“Thank you, Eddie.”

He looks at you, not hungrily, not in a way others have wanted you before. He looks at you like you are the most precious thing in the world.

You push yourself up, leaning closer to him, you give him a teasing smile. 

“I’ll race you to the water.” And with that, you run off, giggling when you hear him cursing. 

“Hey! That’s not fair!” 

You squeal in surprise when he catches up with you quickly, he wraps his arms around your waist, picking you up and running into the water with you. He laughs at the squeal that falls from your lips again when the cold water touches your skin. 

“Got you,” he whispers in your ear as he holds you tightly, sinking in the water with you. 

“It’s so cold!” You gasp, holding his forearm tightly. 

“Wanna dive, sweetheart?” He teases. 

“No!” You squeal as he takes you deeper into the water. 

He chuckles when you push his hands off, putting some distance between you before you turn around to face him. 

“You wanna fight me?” You splash water his way. 

“Oh,” he chuckles, shaking his head, “you wanna play that game?” He asks, splashing water back at you. 

You nod as you walk back, suddenly feeling nervous when an evil smirk appears on his face. 

“How about you play the helpless victim?” 

“And you play the big bad monster?” 

He suddenly jumps forward, reaching for you but you quickly pull back, trying to run in the water.

“No!” 

You hear his dark chuckle behind you, “we didn’t even get started!” 

“You’re an evil water monater!” You giggle as you take a look at him, watching the way the few wet strands of his cling to his cheeks. 

His eyes light up with amusement, “the evil water monster is gonna get the pretty human.” 

Your giggle makes his heart flutter and his smile widens when you squeal again as his fingers brush against your wrist. 

“I almost got you!” 

“Leave me alone!” You laugh, making the mistake of running into the other direction, giving him the chance to grab you. His hands grab your waist and he pulls you against him, your back is now flush against his bare chest. His fingers digging into your sides as he starts to tickle you. 

“H-Hey!” You laugh, throwing your head back, “t-that’s not f-fair,” you giggle, gripping his wrists but he is stronger than you. “E-Eddie!” 

“Eddie!” He mocks, laughing. 

You push him back, hard enough for him to lose balance and as he falls, he takes you with him, wrapping his arms around you, you both fall into the water, laughing together as you fall against his chest.

The water sloshes around you. You are both giggling as you help each other up, holding each other's hands. He pulls you into him causing you to stumble forward a little. Your free hand falls against his wet chest as his falls to your waist. 

“Hi,” you chuckle. 

“Hey,” he smiles, moving his hand up to tuck the wet strands of your hair behind your ear.  

You look at his chest, eyeing his tattoos for a moment and then, you look up, eyes drifting to his lips. 

His brows knit together. He watches the way you look at him. His breathing stutters when your eyes continue to stare at his lips. But you are confused and completely lost. Why? What are you thinking about?

You pull away from him when you catch yourself thinking of something that shouldn’t even cross your mind. 

Why did you even think about it? 

Why did you have to get so close to him?

Wasn’t the kiss with Steve enough? 

Why are you trying to ruin another friendship?

You already lost Steve, you don’t want to lose Eddie too.

“Hey guys!” 

Both you and Eddie look up to find Robin running into the water, grinning at the both of you. 

“Hey!” 

The smile on your face is fake, Eddie can see it. 

“Took you long enough, Buckley,” Eddie chuckles. 

“Yeah, I uh– we stopped by the store, got some snacks,” she says with a shaky voice as she gets into the cold water. 

“Hey guys!” Chrissy yells from the spot you and Eddie picked, waving at the two of you. She sits down on the pink towel she just put on the grass next to yours. 

“Hi!” You smile, waving back at her. 

Judging by the tanning oil in her hand, you already know that she won’t be joining you in the water. 

Finally, you look at Steve, who seems unaware of what just almost happened. He takes his shirt off and runs his hand through his hair as he stands there in just his swim trunks, looking like some model that just walked out of a magazine. Your eyes widen as you stare at his chest. 

Since when does he have chest hair? 

He used to hate it and always shaved it when you were still together. 

You stare at it without meaning to, your eyes roam his body. He changed a little, his arms are more muscular than before, his shoulders are a little broader. His hair is longer too. 

When he looks up, you turn away, not wanting to be caught staring. 

“Robin, can I talk to you for a moment?” Eddie asks with pleading eyes. 

“Yeah sure.”

You watch as they both step away, leaving you standing by yourself for a moment. Good, you need it. You look around, deciding to go swimming without them. You take a deep breath and walk deeper into the water, letting the coldness envelope your body. You close your eyes and you start swimming. 

As you swim further away from the shore, the voices and the laughter from the people get lost in the distance. You hear the water sloshing, your breathing and your beating heart. 

You stop swimming and tilt your head back, stretching your arms out as you lay on your back, letting your body float. 

You try to not think. You try to not feel. You try to just be here and enjoy this. You enjoy the cold feeling on your skin beneath the water, the warm feeling of the sun shining down on your face. 

For a moment, it’s so quiet out here, it’s almost eerie.

You think about the joke Eddie made. Monsters in Lovers Lake. Now that you’re out here by yourself, you can’t help but think about it. Maybe there is something in the deep end.

Something could just snatch you up and pull you down. You definitely watch too many horror movies. 

“You’re too far out.”

Your heart leaps to your throat and you open your eyes, gasping as you clutch your chest.

“You scared me!” 

Steve’s lips part, his brows furrow. You place your hand on your chest, trying to calm your breathing. He can’t help but laugh as he takes in the terrified look on your face. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, swimming closer to you, “did you think about that weird lake monster that you were so afraid of when you were a kid?” 

“Huh – oh! O-Oh, you remember that?” You laugh. 

He nods, “yeah, you only talked about it like every day.” 

You snort, rolling your eyes. 

“I wasn’t thinking about that monster.” 

“A different one then?” 

“Maybe.” 

He laughs, “still scared of monsters that don’t exist, I see.” 

“Hey, you never know, something could just emerge from the water.” You swim towards him, getting closer and closer. His cheeks are a little red, water drips down from his hair, single droplets rolling down his cheeks and his lips. 

“And what, snatch me up?” He chuckles, licking his lips. 

“Mhmm, maybe monsters love guys with uh that,” you giggle, pointing to his chest, “I thought you hated chest hair, Stevie.”

You always told him to stop shaving it, you always wanted to see what it would look like on him.

His cheeks heat up and he doesn’t know whether it’s because of your words, the nickname or the closeness of your body. 

“I’m trying new things,” he shrugs. 

New things. He is trying new things. He tried new things when he dated girls before you, new hairstyles, new clothes, new music. He only ever tried new things when he was interested in someone and thought that he had to change – be better, look better. 

“L-Like what?”

Your eyes flash with something that he struggles to read.  

“For girls you mean?” You ask before he can even respond to your first question. You remember what Robin told you the first time you visited them at Scoops Ahoy. “A-Are you– do you have someone?” You ask before you can even stop those words from spilling. 

“What?” He asks, shaking his head at you. 

“Nothing,” you mumble, “forget it.” Why do you even care? 

This is none of your business. He can do whatever he wants. He can flirt as much as he wants. He can go on dates. He can have flings. He can have girlfriends. 

You tear your eyes away from him, desperately wanting to get away when you feel your cheeks heating up but just as you’re about to swim back, you notice how loose your bikini top is suddenly feeling. You raise your hand, placing it on your chest, “shit,” you mumble when you realize that the knot came undone. 

“W-What’s wrong?” Steve asks as he snaps out of his thoughts. 

“M-My stupid bikini – the knot–”

He realizes what happened when he notices your hand on your chest as you keep your other arm stretched out so you stay afloat. 

“Can you help me?” You ask with big eyes. 

His heart melts at the tone in your voice and the look in your eyes. 

“Of course,” he whispers, swimming towards you.

This isn’t ideal but, he touched you before, he had seen you naked before, it won’t be weird or foreign for him to do it. 

He swims behind you and he stares at your bare back for a moment, swallowing nervously. He takes in a shaky breath and reaches out to gather your wet hair, he brushes it to the side. 

A shiver runs down your spine when you feel his touch for the first time again. His calloused fingers touching your bare skin. You press your lips together, and close your eyes. 

He moves closer than he has to, he can’t help it. He reaches for the strings of your top and he starts tying the knot, slowly. He can feel the goosebumps on your skin and he can’t help but wonder if it’s because of the cold water or if it’s because of his touch – he hopes that it’s because of his touch. 

He looks at your soft skin, wondering what it would be like to feel it on his again. He wonders what it would feel like to touch you, to have your body pressed against his. He looks at your shoulder, wishing that he could lean down and press his lips against it, pressing kisses up to your neck. His heart flutters just at the thought of it. 

He is close, so close. 

His fingers brush against your spine and your breath hitches in your throat. He heard it. 

His touch feels so different from the way it used to feel. It’s soft, gentle. Something that it never used to be. He is careful with you, he never was, not when you were still his. 

You wonder if he ever thought that you looked beautiful. 

You wonder if he ever craved you the way you craved him after he left. 

Your heart starts racing the longer you feel his hands on your skin. Hands that used to be so rough on your body are now so light and caring, it makes you nervous. His hands feel familiar yet so strange and foreign. 

Is he touching someone else with those hands now?

“There’s no one else.” He says as though he could read your mind.

For a moment, you stop breathing.

“There’s only one girl for me,” he whispers as he puts his hand on your shoulder, turning you around carefully so he can see you, so he can look into your eyes. 

He felt the way you reacted to his touch. He heard the sadness and the jealousy in your voice when you had asked him those questions. He can see the look in your eyes. 

There is still a chance. 

There is still a chance, right?

next chapter

-

tagging friends and mutuals

@mysticmunson @taintedcigs @littledemondani @wroteclassicaly @corrodedcorpses @corrodedseraphine @succubusmunson @trashmouth-richie @take-everything-you-can @xxhellfirebunnyxx @sherrylyn628 @somethingvicked @nemesis729 @chrissymjstan

[bettysupremacy]

Steve-o

Summary: Steve thinks you’re very pretty, and desperately needs your number.

A/N: i love Steve. a lot.

The world stops for approximately 5 second when Steve Harrington first sees you. It’s heavy crashing infatuation that has Steve questioning, is love at first sight real?

He’s never been a believer in this sort of thing, you get to know them, you fall for them. At least, that’s how it was with Nancy. You can’t fall In love with a person you’ve never met, you don’t even know them. 

But that’s what Steve found so beautiful, the unknown. 

“Dude, why aren’t you walking?” Robin turns from where she stands, realizing Steve is no longer beside her.

“It’s her, Robs.” He breathes.

“It’s who?” 

“My soulmate, my pairing, my one true love.” He contradicts everything he believes in.

“Oh my god,” Robin groans annoyedly. “You cannot be serious right now, Steve.” 

He nods. “As a heart attack.” 

Papers scatter the Scoops Ahoy wheel table you sit at. They’re filled with words and colorful highlighter. Smart, he thinks, I know she’s smart.

“Get your ass over here and keep walking, we’re gonna be late.” He won’t budge. “God, please, Steve.”

“I need her number.” He shakes his head.

“You need one less late clock in.” 

Steve whines, breaking his eye sight on you for the first time. “Let me have this, Robs.” 

“I’ve let you have 3 late days, one more and Kieth said he’d fire your ass.” 

“Kieth says a lot of things.” He turns his head to her. “How do I ask? Name first? Number? Age?” 

“Well typically you introduce yours-“ 

“Fuck off, Robin, I know what I’m doing.” 

He takes a moment. Maybe he should’ve let Robin finish her advice, he’s never been this nervous to ask out a girl. 

“This level of melodramatic is a new low, Steve.” 

“Fuck off.” This pushes him to walk into Scoops. 

When he reaches the table, it’s an obvious realization that you’re studying. The papers are neat despite thrown around, and there’s a highlighter key next to your elbow. He feels guilty interrupting. 

Be normal! Repeats in his head like a mantra. God!

“Hi,” he starts, he feels like he could throw up. “I’m Steve.” 

You startle. “Hi, Steve.” 

He laughs nervously. Robin rolls her eyes so hard her head tilts back and her hands come up to cover her face exasperatedly. You smile. Steve doesn’t. 

He takes a look around the room awkwardly.  How could he ever stand these blue and red lights? “I used to work here yanno.” 

You nod. “You work in the video store now.”

“That I do.” He bounces in his new shoes, “Wait, have you been in?” 

“Yeah, I come every Saturday.” 

“No shit.” He breathes. You look taken aback, a little confused, a little offended.

“I mean! No shit, I would’ve remembered a face so pretty.”

“Good one, dingus.” 

“Take a walk.” He replies quickly. 

“Do you.. need something?” You ask carefully. His face crumples and something sick in your heart twists. “Not to be rude! I just- English 101 doesn’t finish itself.” 

“English 101! You go to Hawkins Community? I was gonna go, I just wanted a taste of hardworking minimum wage life first” his eyes widen, “not that what you’re doing isn’t hard work!” 

Can the world just cave in on him now? Shoot me.

“She asked a question, Steve-o” Robin puts in. Unhelpfully.

He glares at Robin. “I was wondering if I could get your number? It’s okay if not!” He adds quickly. “Just like- maybe we could go out sometime?” 

Your head spins, pretty boy comes and asks for your number? You can’t mess this up. 

“You like movies?” 

“Uhh duh,” Steve laughs. Robin doesn’t know how much more she can take of this. “Totally.” 

“You pick a movie,” You smile, “and come over Saturday. I’ve got a really big tv.” 

Now Steve may be nervous, but he wasn’t born yesterday. 

“Yeah!” He seems overeager. “Yeah,” he fixes. “I’ll pick out a movie.” 

“Okay.” You smile up at him.

He juts out his wrist. “You can write it.. here.” 

Your laugh cuts through his nerves like a sharp knife. “Yeah, okay.”

Pretty pink highlighter seeps into Steve’s unblemished wrist. He watches you write your number moonstricken. Your fingers press into his skin warmly and something turns in his tummy, you’re so pretty. 

“Well I’ll be seeing you..” He looks at his wrist, “Y/N.” 

“I’ll be seeing you, Steve-o” She takes from Robin. 

He laughs, turning to walk with Robin again. “Steve-o” he mouths. 

Robin is sure to have an aneurism. They were supposed to clock in 3 minutes ago. 

“You happy with yourself?” 

Steve grins, big and boyish. “Yeah, I am.” 

[passivenovember]

Being a dad is something he's always wanted. Call it a cliche, right, the all-American, golden boy who's caught up in the idea of four to six snot-nosed brats looking up to him as they try to make sense of all the big and small things because they have no other choice. You only get one dad, right?

He images them, crawling and then walking and then sprinting through the same ancient, brand-new stages of life. Six months, learning the kitchen-magic of how their fingers and toes bend on command. A year, stumbling Jello-legged down a hallway. Fifteen, slamming their bedroom door only to rush, crying, into Steve's arms when he works up the courage to rap his knuckles on the wood like the dad from Full House.

Maybe. It's all Steve's ever wanted. More than that signed Nicks basketball his own dad sent for him when he was twelve. More than Nancy Wheeler. More than his need for mountains, and oceans, and something else.

But then he meets Billy, and it's like all that other shit goes away for a while. None of it disappears, really, but he's got something to focus on, now. Something to work toward, with someone, and that makes it worse, in a way.

Billy finally lets him fuck, and Steve lays in bed that night with an irritatingly awful douchebag drooling a spot onto his chest, and Steve thinks. Knows--

Look, he won't admit it on the first fuck, but this is it for him. He wants to buy this dude house, and he wants wedding rings around the fat and bone of both their fingers, and. He wants babies, with Billy.

Aches Billy to love him.

He wants a life with this asshole. The whole nine. Steve runs his hand through Billy's hair and falls asleep imagining family Christmases, and vacations, and the fragile, shining hope that Billy will wake up tomorrow and swear that he's in love. That Steve is who he's waited 19 years for. That to each other, they'll always belong.

Obviously, that doesn't happen. Maybe.

If it does Steve wouldn't know, because Billy's not a lunatic. He's gone before the sky's fully blue. Leaves his phone number scrawled on the corner of Steve's mirror in Sharpie.

Steve's in love.

So. Immediately, he wants the impossible, but mostly, he just wants Billy. And by some giant, invisible, choking miracle he gets Billy. His body first, and then his thoughts. His laugh, genuine and biting and whole. Billy shares his memories, like pieces of bread dropped in water for hungry birds, for Steve. Achingly slow, he tells his hopes, his dreams, and.

Eventually, one night with his head on Steve's chest he says, "You terrify me. I never want it to end."

So. It's basically love.

Steve's a loose canon when it comes to this feeling. Pedal to the medal, he shoots through walls with bright red booming firepower until everything is cracked and bleeding and open around them. Until there's room enough to say, "I love you, move in with me."

So, Billy does. Impossible.

Wonderful and joking, even though it's not a joke when Steve's parents meet him on move in day and Steve's dad is thrilled that Billy knows shit about cars, and Steve's mom likes that Billy has a weathered recipe book that was, "passed down from my grandma, back in California," for her to find a place for in their tiny, warm kitchen while she unpacks.

"He's very nice," Steve's mother says, "Respectful. Handsome." In that same wistful, sleepy tone that she used when she first called Nancy wheeler sweet. Beautiful.

"He's a fine young man, son," Steve's dad tells him. "Try not to run him off."

Steve watches them reverse from the ratty, rocky, untamed driveway, with his heart in his throat. Imagines the day he and Billy will leave their kids, supported and loved fiercely, to make that wobbly step toward the brush-fire shore of their lives.

--

Steve's plan for the future lives and breathes in a small, tucked-away corner in his mind for months. He nearly chokes to death on it, several times a day, watching Billy relax into his routine.

Billy cooks dinner every night. They eat on the couch in their boxers, dishes left on the coffee table until Billy kisses him awake in the blue light of the television, "Let's go to bed, baby," he says. Steve always notices that the plates and cups are cleared away, the living room tidy for the dawn.

Billy buys a shovel and digs two holes in their patchy backyard. Steve watches him from the kitchen window, wondering what the cavities will grow with the start of spring.

Billy plants a clothesline. "My mom used to dry our clothes this way," He says, when Steve raises an eyebrow. He tacks sheets and sweaters to sway in the sunlight. Talks about laying a patio out there, so they can grill for people when it's warm.

Steve gets hard from the image of himself, in an apron, grilling hot dogs and hamburgers for their friends, first, and kids. Someday. A total dad.

--

Billy makes use of his library card and checks out every book about homesteading he can find. He learns about gardening, and bricklaying, and how to buff gashes out of hardwood floors. For his birthday, Billy hints at a Better Homes and Gardens subscription.

When Steve forks out the cash and the May issue arrives in the mail two months later, Billy presses a hasty kiss to his forehead and disappears onto the porch. He spends his Sunday afternoons with sticky notes and an overused ballpoint pen from that moment on, circling things that have no rhyme or reason, to Steve.

--

They've been living in their house for six months when Billy says, suddenly, "We should see if we can buy it." Like he's been planning his own version of their future.

It's Sunday, and he's just come up for air from Better Homes and Gardens. There's a cheese plate in his hands. He's parked by the front door, on his way out, looking startled as if the words escaped from a caged area buried deep inside of him.

"Huh?" Steve's more of the lay-around-and-rot-in-his-underwear-on-Sunday's type. He's eating ice cream out of the container, distracted by something Barney Fife says. He laughs.

"We should buy the place," Billy tells him.

Steve blinks, "The house?"

"It's our house," Billy says delicately, with all the weight of the world resting on him.

Steve looks up from the television set, shocked that Billy's hair is wet in some places and drying in others. As if he was being groomed by some large, impatient cat. He peers around Billy, out the screen door. "Is it raining?"

"Sprinkling," Billy says, "I have an umbrella."

"Your magazine's gonna get wet."

"I'm reading The Grapes of Wrath," Billy tells him, pulling a weathered copy out from under his cheese plate.

"Sure, but if the rain picks up, your book--"

"--The characters could use a little water," Billy says, "They're trapped in the dust bowl."

"I'm in love with you," Steve says. Like it's the first time he's ever admitted something like this out loud. So it's a surprise. "I like that you read. I like that you talk about everything like it's real."

Billy pads over to the couch and knocks Steve's legs apart. He settles on the arm of the thing, cold, wet toes pressing into Steve's thigh. Steve winces, sputtering when Billy feeds him a slice of American cheese wrapped in bologna.

He chews. Swallows. "I need to make more money, baby."

"Why," Billy asks, feeding himself.

"Because," Steve chokes on the next round Billy feeds him, heart soaring when Billy smiles, "Because if we're gonna lay a patio and grill for our friends I want to make sure you have decent ingredients."

"I don't mind the cheap stuff."

"You deserve better," Than what I can provide, Steve doesn't say.

Billy shrugs, feeding him another round of cheese and meat. "Well, if we're following through with the patio and the grill--"

"--And a porch awning," Steve says, feeding Billy a slice of cheese, "I'm adding that to the list. You can’t read your book and eat snacks while holding a fucking umbrella over your head."

Billy stares at him, swallowing and red cheeked. "I think any sort of permanent installment has to be cleared through the landlord."

Steve thinks about it, humming low when Billy slips off the armrest and settles, heavily, into his lap. "So, we buy the place."

"I need a better job, too."

"We'll look when the paper comes tomorrow."

They lapse into silence, eating cheese and bologna until it's gone, then they move to the ice cream Steve was working his way through, chuckling at The Andy Grifith Show.

It starts pouring rain, little hammers falling on the roof until the power flickers. "I want to make this house nice for you," Billy says.

Steve looks at him. "It's already nice."

"It could be better," Billy says, fiddling with the hair on Steve's chest. "We could have a garden. And I think the beige walls are boring as shit, we need to get some wallpaper. Or paint, or something."

"What else should we do?"

Billy shrugs, "The kitchen needs a rug. I saw this book at the library about how old men in Russia and China and shit learn to weave rugs on giant wooden looms. Some of them have seaters, and others hang them from the ceiling. Your car needs a new power steering pump--"

"--Sounds like you need a shed."

"Yeah, I guess so," Billy says. He grins, and then his brows furrow. "But. Steve, I want to build us a life, here. I want to start my life with you, I don't want to wait until we move to something we own, because I like this house, and I feel like when we start to grow our family, we can--"

Steve's heart stops beating.

His vision tunnels, all his focus collapsing on the words Billy says. Phrases that sound wonderful and impossible, all knitting together to equal nurseries built from two-by-four.

Billy stares at him cheeks red. "Sorry, I know we haven't talked about any of this. I get excited."

"I'm in love with you," Steve tells him, breathless.

"I know, dumbass, I'm in love with you."

Steve kisses him. Pulls away. "You really wanna buy a house?"

"Yeah. Not a house, this house."

"You wanna have my babies?"

Billy tugs on his chest hair, grinning when Steve yelps. "Maybe you wanna have my babies, instead."

"Sure," Steve tells him immediately, "Yeah, anything you want."

"I'm going back onto the porch," Billy says, "We'll start with the job listings in the paper."

Steve watches him go. Thinks he could be alright at this, being a husband and a father. Someday.

Right now, he's alright at being Billy's.

[strawberryspence]

PART 1

Eddie did not know what to do. It was one mistake, made in a dimly lit bar, and he honestly doesn’t even remember the guy’s name. Was it John? Jeremy? Jason? It was one guy, he never even flirts anymore but Steve looked so good that night that it hurt. Hurt so bad he needed someone to temporarily fill that gaping hole in his heart. Because how can Steve Harrington ever want him in any way?

His mother, Cecilia Munson, used to call him sweetheart at the softest times of the day, sunlight dancing through their rooms, just for the two of them. He remembers being nine, young, sharp edged from his father, wondering why anyone would look at him and call him sweetheart, not when he hot wires cars and pick locks. His mother smiles sweetly at him, explaining, “You, Eddie Munson, have the kindest and biggest heart. I call you sweetheart because I love you.”

Of course, Eddie’s in love with Steve. Of course, he calls Steve sweetheart because he loves him. How can anyone not fall in love with him? He calls Steve sweetheart because its true. Steve is a sweetheart. Steve’s sweet with the biggest kindest heart he’s ever seen on anyone. Sure, he wasn’t the best in high school, but he’s proven that he’s better now time and time again.

He gets a visit from Dustin two days after the bar incident, pounding at his door like a hurricane. When he finally opens the door, Dustin’s red faced with anger, “You’re fucking lucky I love you or I would’ve bought Erica Sinclair with me.”

Before he can even ask what’s happening, Dustin’s listing the ways Erica can hide a body, never to be found again. Eddie sighs. The group knows now, of course, they would. News spreads like wild fire with the kids. It’s because of those damn walkies they have (he can’t begrudge them for it when it once aided in saving his ass.)

“How did you find out?”

“Jonathan.”

“Jonathan?!”

Dustin shrugs, “He’s got vendetta against you now. I don’t know dude, they’ve always had a weird friendship. Max thinks they were a throuple at some point, Lucas thinks they’ve got a thing going on just the two of them and Will won’t say anything.”

Jesus Christ, Eddie’s not one for jealousy but there’s something green cruising through his veins right now and he hates it with a burning passion. He needs Dustin to leave so he can scream into a pillow, or maybe sob in the shower.

“Why are you here?”

“I am here to make sure you fix this shit you fucked.”

Eddie looks up at him with surprise as Dustin crossed his arms, eyebrows raised, “Everyone knows Steve’s the biggest sweetheart. He may hide it with his big hair or his sarcasm, but we all know. If you do like him, which you do, you dumb ass. You have to fix this, Eddie. I haven’t seen Steve this upset before and I was there when Nancy dumped him.”

Eddie blanches at the statement, it tears straight to his heart at the fact that he made his sweetheart upset. God, he's an idiot.

The next morning Eddie goes into mission mode with a bouquet of daisies in one hand and a bag of cookies he bought from the bakery on the other as he arrives at the Harrington’s mansion. He’s gonna fix this today, come hell or high water.

Robin answers the door and Eddie’s sure he’s never seen her look more feral and that’s saying a lot when they've fought a magical evil wizard together. Robin’s looking at him like she’ll gauge his eyes out if he makes a wrong move, which he deserves.

Eddie asks for Steve and before he can finish the door is shut to his face. Well, he deserves that too. So he knocks again, ringing the doorbell as annoyingly as he can.

Robin opens again, nostrils flaring, “What do you want Munson? If you’re here to make my best friend cry again, I am asking you to leave now.”

“Robin, I just want to talk to him. I want to apologize. I made a mistake and I want to fix that mistake.”

“Then what? You're gonna go calling him sweetheart again without strings attached?”

“You know that’s not what it is. You know, Robin.”

And she does know. She knows about Eddie’s feelings for her best friend and the fear of not being good enough for Steve. Robin’s afraid no one will ever be good enough for her Steve but before the bar incident, she thought Eddie’s the closest thing to good enough.

For a second, Eddie can see Robin soften, then she shakes her head, “No.” Robin says, her back straightening.

Robin’s about to close the door again when Steve comes into view. A blanket draped over his shoulders, hair messy, glasses askew. If it was any other situation Eddie might’ve swooned at how soft he looks like but he’s eyes are red rimmed from crying and Eddie hates himself even more.

“Let him in, Rob.” Robin stands solid at the doorway, not moving. Steve looks at her wearily, “Robin.” They have another one of their silent conversations, before Robin gives up, “Fine.” She leaves the door open before marching up the stairs to give them privacy.

Eddie hands him the daisies and the cookies, Steve smiling down at it before inviting him into the living room with a small smile.

“I am sorry.” They both blurt out at the same time. Eddie’s not even sure to why Steve’s apologizing. Steve then goes on a tangent about how sorry he is for making the assumption that the name sweetheart is only for him and that it meant something more. It wasn’t Eddie’s fault, it was his and his only. He says it’s okay and he didn’t deserve Eddie in the first place and he wasn’t that special. Every word just crushes Eddie even more. How can Steve think he doesn’t deserve Eddie? Him of all the people?

Eddie can’t do anything but scoop him up in his arms, trying his best to give him the best hug in the world as he apologizes for his mistake. Eddie assures him that he is Eddie’s only sweetheart and Steve didn’t make anything up in his head. Eddie tells him he is in love with him, and Steve tears up but at least there's a big smile on his face.

Then and there, Eddie makes the decision to show Steve the love he deserves, to woo him off his ass. Eddie loves him, through and through, and Steve’s always gonna be his sweetheart and if in 50 years they don’t end up together, Eddie will never call anyone else sweetheart, because that’s for Steve, his nail bat yielding, bad ass, sweetheart.

They don’t kiss. Content with just being in each others arms, knowing their true feelings for each other. (Also because Eddie feels like he needs to earn it) Robin goes down when it gets too quiet, and when she sees them in the couch she smiles sweetly at the image of the two of them tangled together.

She walks up on them, “I am so glad you two made up.” Eddie’s smiling up at her when Robin’s fist hits his nose.

“ROBIN!!!” Steve’s clutching him, he’s pretty sure his nose is bleeding and when Eddie looks up, Robin’s holding her fist like it hurt her to punch, but she’s grinning the biggest grin Eddie’s ever seen on her face.

“Again, I am glad you two made up. I love you both very much. But if I you make him cry again, that’s not the only thing I am breaking.” Robin smiles before kissing their heads and heading to the kitchen to get him an ice pack.

They look at each other before promptly bursting into laughter as Steve tries to wipe his bleeding nose with his own hand.

Eddie does woo Steve. On the third date Eddie planned for them, Steve finally kisses him. They’re in his car and Eddie’s rambling about his new campaign and how the kids loved it. Steve kisses him mid-way the conversation. The kiss itself, Eddie thinks, is just as sweet as Steve. Steve holds him like he’s the best thing in this universe and like it’s a privilege to be kissing him, rather than the other way around.

Eddie does not stop wooing Steve. He picks him flowers in random fields, takes him on dates, makes him dinner, leaves tiny notes on his bathroom mirror, (he also woos him amazingly in bed), packs him lunches, makes him mixtapes, burns CDs, and, three decades later, playlists.

They’re 40, Steve found his first grey hair yesterday and Eddie’s knees hurt more often that it should. But Eddie still calls Steve sweetheart. Their kids cringe at their parents and their vintage pet name for each other, but their smiles don’t hide the fact that they adore their parents love.

Steve knows he’s special, because Eddie Munson calls him sweetheart for the rest of their lives.

Eddie knows he deserves this life, this love, because Steve Harrington loves him.

[ikarakie]

part 1

eddie wakes up.

he doesn't expect to. not on earth, anyways. but he does, in a hospital bed, to dustin's scolding and the girls' smiles. he's told they won, vecna's dead. the government are working on clearing his name as they speak as a fucked up 'thank you', and everything is fucking okay.

he asks after red and the sinclairs. apparently, they had a run-in with asshole of the century jason carver, but sinclair had held his own with a mean right hook that harrington had taught him once. max had fought vecna off with the help of supergirl, who'd come into her mind at the last second via shenanigans that eddie didn't understand. though he was assured he'd have the story told to him by mike himself, since he, supergirl, and the byers' were on their way in from california.

everyone's crowded around his bed, minus one very pretty head of hair, firing off their accounts. robin's partway through how the vines had attacked them when it happens.

"and then they grabbed me and slammed me against the wall! so steve-" and she hesitates. widens her eyes and a looks a bit nauseous all of a sudden. eddie feels his stomach sink.

"hey, speaking of harrington, where is he?" he asks, hoping to fucking god it's not what he thinks. though the way the room falls silent, the way dustin's suddenly holding his hand a lot tighter, makes his eyes water.

"he got you out." henderson whispers, sounding so very broken. "he- he carried you back to the gate and sent you through, but it- it was closing." he's biting his lip so hard he draws blood.

"he... he's still there?" eddie asks, breathless, horrified. the image of steve harrington hauling his ass out of that backwards hell dimension only to get stuck there himself makes his head spin. robin breaks down next to him, bringing her legs to her chest on her chair. nancy puts an arm around her shoulder.

"he made sure we all got through first." she says, deceptively even. eddie can see how tense her shoulders are, and he gets it. because, for fucks sakes, of course he sent the girls and henderson through first. "i think... i think he didn't want to risk coming through when it was so nearly closed. so he stayed."

eddie takes a second. looks around the room, at everyone's sullen faces. wonders why steve thought his was the life to save instead of his own, when all these people loved him so fucking dearly. eddie liked robin, and he liked max, and nancy, and the little sinclair, but they were more steve's people than his. and yet the guy, for whatever fucking reason, thought eddie, who was barely clinging on to begin with, was the one who deserved to live?

if you told him three months ago that he'd be sat in a hospital bed, having been dragged back from the edge of death by steve harrington, who'd fucking sacrificed himself to do so, he would've laughed. even more, if you told him that, in that position, eddie's heart ached with affection for the guy, he would've punched you. probably.

not that his puppy crush on steve was a recent development, but this whole... seeing him in action thing had just exacerbated it. especially with all those lingering looks they'd shared. semi-flirty words and little signals that eddie forced himself not to read into. but now he wished he had. wished he'd said what he'd meant to, that last time they saw each other.

"it's okay, though." dustin said, breaking the silence. "because when el comes back, she'll just open a gate, and we can go and get him." he sounds so sure, that for a moment, eddie thinks he's right, but the way nancy sighs indicates this is an issue.

"we'd like to do that." she says, "but... we don't know if vecna dying means... the upside down did, too." god, she was right. what if it'd all collapsed in on itself? robin sobs harder, shaking her head, and eddie puts a hand on one of her knees. wishes, not for the first time, that steve was here, to hold her. instead of- of- wherever he was.

the next week and half passes in a blur. eddie gets discharged, despite everyone's protests, and just told he needs to rest while he heals. they all set up camp in steve's house, which feels fucking weird, but dustin reasons that they need to all be together to form a plan, to watch eddie, and robin had a key anyways, and the place was massive, and it's not like steve ever minded. (the 'when he was alive' goes unspoken. they don't want to talk like that, not yet.)

it's one more week before mike and his little crew get back. apparently, they got caught in some government bullshit that'd held them up, but they return with joyce byers and a back-from-the-dead chief hopper, so that's cool. there's hugs and reunions and stories are exchanged. when the bit about steve getting stuck in the upside down comes up, eddie sees how will byers' face falls. remembers dustin saying he'd been trapped there once, too, and supposes it's sympathy.

chief hopper looks ready to tear the whole place apart. he'd asked after steve the second everyone had gathered, strangely terrifying for a man who was skin and bones. he'd only settled and listened to the story after being assured steve wasn't dead. (not that they... actually knew that, but no one wanted to say it out loud again).

supergirl, eleven, wasted no fucking time. she grabbed a radio and a piece of fabric and apparently began 'searching for steve in the void'. though eddie didn't quite understand, he held his breath alongside everyone else. only relaxing when she smiled, and said, albeit a little wobbly: "he is alive. he is okay."

robin's sobs would probably be with him till the day he died. she'd collapsed into joyce byers' arms, mumbling incoherently. dustin wasn't any better, crying into will's shoulder.

after some safety briefings, and a begruding blessing from hopper, supergirl opened a gate in steve's living room and fucked off through it. eddie was astounded at the ease with which she entered the dimension. will explained that, because vecna was dead, it didn't 'feel as bad anymore'. though he still held mike's hand tightly and sat as far away from it as possible.

and so the waiting game began. they tried to make small talk, tried to keep the mood light, but the whole thing weighed heavy on them. watching the gate to hell that they'd just sent a little girl through, wishing every second she'd come back in one piece.

it was maybe forty five minutes later when max perked up. they all turned to the gate at her movement, and sure enough, there they were.

he was pale, and tired looking, covered in some sort of goop or slime or something. holding eleven's hand the whole time- though for who's benefit, eddie wasn't sure. he stumbled a bit as he stepped through the gate and still, still, turned to help el through. though he was a bit slimmer, and clearly weary, it was him, it was steve, and he was alive.

robin was on him in seconds. screaming, clinging to him and asking him 'how dare you? how fucking dare you? never do that to me again, you piece of shit! i love you so much, you can't do that!' he buried his face in her shoulder and swayed slightly as he held her. murmuring things eddie couldn't hear. dustin wasn't far behind, squeezing between them and similarly blubbering. steve was hugging them both and gazing at them- at everyone who was crying- with such wonder. like he couldn't believe he'd been missed that much.

one by one, everyone had their fill. max whacked him on the arm and then hugged him so tightly it looked like it hurt. nancy brushed his hair back out of his eyes and called him an idiot. joyce byers gently wiped his face of dirt and grime before kissing his cheek. chief hopper held him like a father, strong and tight.

eddie sat back, just watched. wondered how someone could be so loved and not feel worth it at all.

then steve's eyes settled on him. they brightened, almost sparkled. "eddie!" he called. his voice was rough from disuse, but still sounding so relieved and happy it made eddie falter. he stepped forwards, feeling steve's dazzling smile pull the corners of his own mouth upwards. "you're okay!"

then he had an armful of steve harrington, and it all came flooding out. he felt a bit foolish, but only until he realised steve was crying too. "you... asshole." he muttered, holding him as tightly as his strength would allow.

"i told you not to be fucking hero." steve huffed, though it lost any of it's power with how his voice wobbled. "i thought you died, i thought-"

"you're one to fucking talk!" eddie cried, pulling away just enough to look him in the eye. "i woke up and you- they told me you dragged my ass outta there and then stayed behind! no one knew what had happened to you, it's been weeks, steve! i couldn't- why would you do that? why would you not just leave me-"

"i couldn't leave you!" god, he sounded so offended at the very idea. eddie felt like his heart was going to explode out of his chest. "i couldn't- i wouldn't do that-"

"i know you wouldn't." eddie lamented, because fuck, he did. he knew deep down even if he had died there, outside his trailer to those bats, steve still would've brought him home. "doesn't make it any less stupid. just makes you- makes you so-"

it hit him how close they were. probably an inch, maybe less, between their faces.

"makes me so what?" steve asked, a little breathless. eddie gazed at him, deciding that: fuck it. he'd been too close to death to not... see if whatever he thought they had was real. he sent a mental prayer to a god he didn't really believe in anymore: please, let him not have read this wrong.

he looked to steve's lips. pointedly. watched how his cheeks flushed and a shy smile crept onto them. how his eyes flickered down to eddie's as well. there was a silent, shared understanding: if we were alone right now, i'd like to have kissed you.

"so... stupidly perfect, steve harrington." eddie muttered, undeniably affectionate, pulling him in for another embrace. tucked his face into his neck so he could whisper. "you can't save someone's life and then die before they can tell you thank you." steve melted under his touch, pressing a kiss to where his shoulder met his neck under the safety of eddie's hair. it made him warm, and giddy, and so very fucking thankful.

"you can tell me now." he whispered back. eddie couldn't help but smile again. he'd tell him anything if he asked like that.

"thank you, steve." he muttered, squeezing him slightly. hoping his touch communicated what he needed it to: please, please, please don't leave me again.

"anytime, eddie." steve whispered back, hands balling into the fabric of the shirt eddie wore. i won't, as long as you don't either.

[bettyfrommars]

One-Hour Photo

90's Eddie x fem!reader

A little blurb about taking photos with a disposable camera in the 90's. There were always a few shots you took to use up the film so you could get it developed as soon as possible. I've been pushing myself to write even when I don't feel like it, and then stuff like this happens.

wc: 576

blurbs

There were seven more photos left on the disposable camera before you could run it to the one-hour photo booth to get developed.  The bulk of the 36 count of film was of a karaoke night at The Hideout.  It was Joyce’s birthday, and Jim sang Ring of Fire by Johnny Cash.  Robin convinced Steve to sing Wannabe by the Spice Girls with her, and you had all of these great shots of them laughing so hard they could barely continue.  

God, Eddie was so beautiful that night. Even though you were plenty intoxicated, you remembered it all as clear as day.  The way the leather of his jacket smelled mixed with the soapy musk of his skin.  The way he would always have his hand on your leg, and then you’d catch him staring at you just before he licked his lips and leaned in, “kiss me.”

click, click

He wasn’t a huge fan of Journey, but he sang Separate Ways because he knew you loved it, and then there were several “selfie” shots of you holding your cocktails up and attempting a clumsy, blurry tongue kiss for the camera.  One photo was almost too dark to see a very tipsy Steve, Robin, Eddie, and Nancy all squeezing in to be in the frame. Jonathan was the only sober one and you took a shot of him giving the peace sign and sipping his soda in the corner.  

The next morning, you spent a few of those final seven shots on you and Eddie, half naked in bed.  You held the disposable camera up at arm's length so that it could capture your cheek on his shoulder, and his hair splayed out over the pillow while he planted his lips on your forehead.

click, click

Another was of Eddie in the kitchen of your old apartment with his hair in a bun and an apron on while he cracked the eggs to make an omelet.  He did not look up when you told him how good it smelled, but if the pictures had sound, you’d hear him say, “only the best for my girl.”

The final capture was a rushed one of a houseplant by the window.  You were eager to finish the roll so that you could wind it and run it over to get developed before breakfast was ready.  

Twenty years later, while cleaning out boxes of storage you forgot even existed, you came across the white shoebox with the hearts drawn all over it in red marker.  At first, it didn’t ring a bell, and then it made you clutch your heart and lose your balance.

You sat down, right where you were, on the ground, to sift through the photos and the concert tickets and the love notes scribbled on scraps of paper, once folded into pockets and taped to bathroom mirrors.  

You had almost forgotten about that night at The Hideout.  A smile cut into your cheek at the same time as your eyes watered and something like pain tickled in your throat.

With trembling hands, you held up the ones you’d taken in bed together that morning in '96, those final seven, the few that were meant to be “throw away” photos in a much more important collection.  It felt like they’d been taken only yesterday, and several lifetimes ago, all at once.

[sidekick-hero]

If I only could, make a deal with God

Written for @steddieangstyaugust Day 10 and Day 11, "Where were you?" and Temporary Character Death. They were too perfect not to combine for a quick Kas!Eddie ficlet.

Tags: Kas!Eddie, Angst with a happy ending, mind manipulation, temporary character death

words: 1.5k | AO3 | rated M

Watching Vecna burn is even more satisfying than Steve ever imagined, though the stench of burning flesh makes his stomach twist. Each bullet Nancy fires sends a thrill of fuck yes through him. With every shot, he silently dedicates it—this is for Chrissy, this is for Fred, this is for Patrick, this is for Nancy, and finally, this is for you, Max.

But as he sees Vecna’s body crash through the window, a knot of unease tightens in Steve’s gut. It’s too easy. Too damn easy. Every year, they think they've won, but they never really do. The monsters keep coming, relentless.

Steve glances up at the night sky, framed by the hole Vecna left behind. The darkness feels wrong, like it’s still hiding something. Deep down, Steve knows it’s not over. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

“Do you think he’s…” Robin begins, her voice uncertain, but Nancy shakes her head before Steve can answer.

“No,” she says, her voice firm. “I can still feel him. He’s hurt, but he’s not dead.”

Her words hit like a punch when they step outside. The ground is scorched, but there’s no body. Just empty, burned earth.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Robin mutters, pacing, while Nancy stares at the spot like it’s a personal insult. Steve knows that look—she blames herself. She feels like she failed because she didn’t kill him. As if it’s her responsibility, her burden to bear. But none of them should have to carry that weight.

Especially not the kids.

The kids.

“Dustin! Shit! Come on, we have to go!” Steve’s heart lurches as panic floods his veins. For a moment, he’d forgotten—lost in the fight, in the bitter taste of another near-miss. Dustin and Eddie, out there playing decoy, risking their lives to buy them time. If anything happened to them, Steve knows he’d never forgive himself.

He spots them almost instantly, two figures on the ground like a beacon drawing him in. The eerie silence is broken only by the haunting sound of Dustin's wheezing, mixed with raw, anguished cries.

Steve's heart hammers in his chest, and he breaks into a sprint, covering the last few feet in desperate haste. His knees hit the ground next to Dustin, and finally, Steve sees the body lying motionless on the cold, hard ground.

It’s Eddie. His eyes are open but lifeless, his skin impossibly pale, and a bright red trickle of blood runs from the corner of his mouth.

Steve knows he's gone, but he checks for a pulse anyway. There's nothing. Eddie is dead, and it's Steve's fault. He left them behind, chasing the role of the hero, and Eddie paid for it with his life.

Steve wasn’t there. He didn’t protect them, and now…

“Where were you?”

Dustin's voice slices through Steve’s spiraling thoughts, the question heavy with accusation. It's not just a question; it’s a condemnation. How could you let this happen? Why didn’t you save him?

“Dustin, I…”

“We needed you, Steve. He needed you! He’s…” A gut-wrenching sob shakes Dustin’s body, and Steve pulls him into his arms. Dustin clings to him like Steve is the only anchor keeping him tethered to reality.

“He can’t be gone. He can’t. He was just playing the most metal concert ever, Steve. He…he…”

Steve’s heart shatters under the weight of Dustin’s grief, a pain he never wanted him to bear. He recalls warning Dustin about love, about avoiding heartbreak, but this—this is so much worse than a broken heart.

This loss will change Dustin forever, just like Barb’s death changed Nancy.

Before Steve can find any words—though he doubts they would help—the girls arrive, urgency in their voices as they urge them to run. Steve looks up and sees the red storm in the sky, growing more violent with every second. They’re right. They have to move.

He pulls Dustin to his feet, but almost stumbles when Dustin resists, refusing to leave Eddie behind.

“We can’t just leave him here!”

“We have to! Dustin, come on.”

“No! I won’t leave him,” Dustin protests, his voice breaking, so Steve grabs him, hoisting him over his shoulder. He runs toward the trailer, ignoring Dustin’s screams of protest and the fresh pain from his bite wound.

Steve holds tight to the closest thing he’s ever had to a little brother, even as part of his sanity slips away at the thought of abandoning Eddie.

I’m sorry, he thinks, his mind screaming with guilt. I never wanted this to happen. I wish it was me, not you, Eddie.

“Where were you?”

A deep voice growls from behind, and when Steve turns around, the sight before him makes his blood run cold. He takes an instinctive step back, heart pounding in his chest.

It’s Eddie, but not quite.

The creature standing before him has Eddie’s familiar features—dark, curly hair, pale skin, those big dark eyes. But something’s wrong. The warm, soulful brown of Eddie's eyes is now tainted with a sinister red hue. He’s taller, his once-pale skin now tinged with an unnatural gray, and his fingernails have lengthened into sharp, claw-like points.

He looks terrifying.

And yet, beneath the nightmare, it’s still Eddie. Steve can see it, feel it.

“Eddie,” Steve begins, but the words catch in his throat, choking on the horror and guilt that threaten to overwhelm him.

“Where were you, Steve?” Eddie's voice is a mix of bitterness and something darker, more feral.

“I’m so sorry, Eddie, I…” Steve stammers, his mind racing for an explanation, for anything that could make this right, even as he knows it's impossible.

Steve’s heart races as he stares into the twisted reflection of Eddie, the boy he failed. The red tint in Eddie’s eyes burns with anger, and something far more sinister—a deep, unyielding hurt.

“You left me,” Eddie growls, his voice rough and cold, like shattered glass. “You all left me to rot.”

Steve flinches at the words, feeling their sting. “Eddie, no,” he pleads, his voice trembling. “We never wanted this. I swear, we never wanted to leave you behind.”

Eddie takes a step forward, his movements unnervingly smooth and predatory. “Liar,” he spits, his sharp nails twitching at his sides. “Vecna showed me the truth. You didn’t care. None of you did.”

“No!” Steve’s voice rises with desperation. “That’s not true, Eddie! We care about you. We all do! Dustin... he loves you, man. You should’ve seen him—how much he cried, how much he hurt. You meant the world to him. You still do.”

Eddie’s expression falters for a moment, a flicker of the old Eddie peeking through the dark rage. But the red in his eyes deepens, and he shakes his head, as if trying to shake off the doubt creeping in. “You’re lying. You’re just trying to save yourselves.”

Steve steps closer, ignoring the sharp claws, the monstrous transformation. All he sees is his friend, the boy who risked everything to protect them. “If that’s what it takes,” Steve says, his voice steady now. “If giving you my life means you’ll spare them, I’ll do it. If I could, I’ll trade places with you, Eddie. I’ll take your place in a heartbeat.”

Eddie stares at him, his expression unreadable. For a moment, the world around them seems to still, the storm above freezing in its rage. “You’d die for them?” Eddie asks, his voice softer, almost disbelieving.

“I would,” Steve says, his voice unwavering. “I’d die for you, too. Because you’re one of us, Eddie. We need you. Dustin needs you. I can’t take back what happened, but I can make sure you know that you’re loved. That you matter.”

Something cracks in Eddie’s demeanor, a chink in the armor Vecna had poisoned him with. The red in his eyes flickers, and the claws at his sides curl inward, less menacing.

“Don’t let Vecna twist this, Eddie,” Steve continues, his voice urgent, filled with the raw truth of his words. “He’s lying to you. He wants you to believe you’re alone, but you’re not. You’re never alone.”

Eddie’s breath hitches, a tremor running through him as he struggles against the dark hold on his mind. The storm above rumbles, as if sensing the shifting tide within him. “Steve, I…”

“You’re stronger than him,” Steve urges. “You’ve always been stronger, Eddie. Fight him. Fight for us. Fight for yourself.”

Eddie’s eyes squeeze shut, his whole body trembling as if he’s at war with himself. And then, with a sudden roar of pain and defiance, Eddie’s eyes snap open, the red receding, leaving behind the warm, familiar brown that Steve knew so well.

“I’m not his puppet,” Eddie growls, more to himself than anyone else. He looks at Steve, and for the first time since this nightmare began, Steve sees his friend—truly sees him—fighting through the darkness.

Steve nods, relief washing over him. “You’re not. You’re Eddie Munson, the guy who played the most metal concert ever to save our lives. And we’re gonna finish this fight together.”

Eddie looks at his hands, still twisted and monstrous, but the anger in his eyes is no longer directed at Steve or his friends. It’s focused on something far greater, far darker. “Let’s end this, Steve. For real this time.”

With a determined nod, Steve extends a hand, and Eddie takes it. Together, they turn to face the storm, ready to join their friends in the final battle against Vecna.

And this time, they’re going to win.

[steddieas-shegoes]

First! Congrats on 3k!!!!!

For the ask game “If you asked me to, I’d give you the moon.”

Love your stuff!!

Thank you my dear! It's been a wild ride so far! Hope you like what I threw together for ya!

🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑🌑

Eddie watched. He observed. That's how he kept himself safe for years, kept himself from getting into physical altercations throughout middle and high school. That's how he managed to survive the city streets between gay bars, alone, trying to find a place he belonged. That's how he found himself in this group of young adults and children, friendship- family- forged from fire and blood.

That's how he recognized what Steve was doing.

He was always in the middle of things, but never the center of attention. Always put himself right on the cusp of being involved, but hung back enough to go unnoticed. He protected, but he stepped away the moment his safety was no longer needed.

He didn't think anyone else seemed to notice.

Steve was just there.

Present and accounted for, but not an active participant in anything.

Like today, this pool party, celebrating Max finally being done with her physical therapy and El finally being able to come out of hiding officially. It was Steve's house, Steve's pool, Steve's food, but Steve wasn't in the pool, or eating the food. He stood by the sliding door to the kitchen, watching with a fond smile.

Eddie walked over to him, poking his shoulder playfully. "You comin' in? I put on this bathing suit for you, least you could do is swim with me."

Steve tried to hide the red flush taking over his cheeks and neck, bowing his head and avoiding eye contact.

"Don't think I'm up for it today, sorry," he said quietly.

The kids yelling, the music blaring, and Robin and Nancy arguing over who had to blow up the float bounced around the large outdoor patio.

"You didn't feel up to it last month either," Eddie tried to get Steve to talk, to be involved in the conversation. "You wanna talk about it?"

Steve shook his head.

"Is it Upside Down related?" Eddie pushed.

Steve nodded once, looking away from everything.

Eddie didn't need to know more, not now or ever if Steve didn't feel like sharing, but he wanted Steve to know he could share.

"If you ever wanna face your fears, you could trust me."

Steve's head shot back towards him. "What do you mean?"

"If you wanted to talk about it. Or if you wanted to try getting in the pool sometime. I can be moral support either way," Eddie laced his fingers with Steve's, ignoring the pull in his stomach that was telling him to either let go or lean in further to kiss him.

"You'd-" Steve flexed his hand, squeezing Eddie's in his. "You would do that? For me?"

"Stevie, if you asked me to, I'd give you the moon," Eddie huffed a small laugh. "Moral support for what's clearly been pretty traumatic for you is kinda the bare minimum."

Eddie was met with silence, but he didn't feel nervous.

He was observant. He knew how Steve felt, even if Steve didn't realize it quite yet himself.

Okay, and maybe Robin had nudged him to make a move, saying there was no way Steve would react poorly. He trusted Robin to know what she was talking about when it came to Steve.

"The kids aren't staying tonight, just the adults. If you wanted to...I dunno. Maybe I could stick my feet in later if you wanted to smoke a bit out here with me?" Steve finally replied.

"Anything, Stevie." Eddie squeezed his hand. "I mean it."

[hauntedxwritings]

@stopthecarrrr

[icyharrington]

Smuttylicious fic where eddie is obsessed with people hearing you fuck 😁. He loves to give multiple orgasms and overstim you have you screaming and begging for him so everyone can hear he tends to do it on the groups vacation getaways 💦💦💦

okeeee so i just wrote a lil smut based on this ask, basically this exact concept, w/ the reader and eddie on a camping trip w argyle, jonathan, nancy, steve, and robin heehee lol hopefully y'all like :3 it's not much and honestly i feel like my writing has been lacking recently so im srrryyyy if it sucks but yea !!!

contains: dom!eddie, overstimulation, public sex kink (sort of?), exhibitionism, cunnilingus, fingering, dirty talk

wc: 1.3k

Eddie Munson is a nymphomaniac- you’re certain of it. There’s never a moment he doesn’t want your skin on his, his rough hands in a perpetual state of exploration. He’s insatiable, always willing to go for another round, his energy never depleting when it comes to pleasing you. 

He’s never been one to be discrete about his passions, and that includes his insatiable hunger for you; he shamelessly feels up your ass while you’re out together, reaching up under your tiny skirt to pull at the lace of your thong, and sometimes he’ll put his arm around you just to grope at your chest, grinning when you jump and shoot him a pointed glare. 

Even when you’re out with friends, he doesn’t pause his hormonal antics- partially due to his lack of impulse control, but also because he wants everyone to see that you’re his, see the way your cheeks go red and you start to squirm under his wordless command. It’s a constant, subtle possessiveness he exudes, and although it’s somewhat embarrassing to be blatantly objectified in front of other people, you also find it painfully sexy. 

Sometimes he’ll shamelessly smack your ass or make suggestive comments (one time at Steve's, he’d tossed his lighter on the ground in front of you, jeering, “why don’t you go bend over and get that for me, hon?”), smirking whenever you narrow your eyes or give him a playful shove in retaliation.

“Yeeesh, get a room!”, Steve always says, palm colliding against his forehead with comedic exasperation as the rest of the gang nods along in solemn agreement, though to Eddie, the jokes are nothing but fuel for his perverted little fire. 

When you, Eddie, Steve, Argyle, Jonathan, Robin, and Nancy had first come up with the plan for a camping trip, Robin had cast Eddie a stern look, her eyes dropping to examine his hand on the underside of your ass cheek. “Y’know, I have half a mind to propose that (y/n) and Eddie sleep in separate tents. Do you guys really wanna be kept up all night listening to straight people sex?”

“Oh god,” Steve had murmured, rubbing circles on his temples at the thought. “Remember the night we got trashed and you guys all slept over my place?” 

“How could I forget?” Robin griped back, before letting out a string of obnoxious ooooohhhhh fucccckkkkkkk, Edddddiiiiieeeeeee’s, not actually sounding too far off in her imitation of you.

The interaction had made you blush, avoiding the eyes of your friends who were probably visualizing you, naked, being pounded into brainless pornstar-moaning oblivion. Eddie, on the other hand, had only flashed the group a devilish grin. “Oh, just wait. This time I’m gonna make her cum ten times instead of just five.”

And he wasn’t kidding, though unlike everybody else, you hadn’t believed that he was. 

He hadn’t wasted any time, once everybody returned to their tents for the night, all comfortably sleepy and stoned and drunk; within seconds he was nipping at your neck, taking fistfuls of your curves in his big hands, squeezing hard enough to leave fingerprints, and like always, you just couldn’t bear to stop him. 

Now you’re spread out in front of him, garments discarded in careless heaps across your modest-sized tent, leaving you on display; his head is between your thighs with only his round eyes visible, glinting mischievously as they observe your vulnerable state.

You stopped being able to form cohesive thoughts about three orgasms ago, and it doesn’t seem that he has any plans on letting up soon, his tongue dipping in and out of your folds, fucking you with it. He’s ravenous, with his hands keeping your legs planted firmly apart so you’re unable to interfere. 

You grip his hair, which is knotted and unkempt, your head lolling back against your padded sleeping bag. “Eddie… please, Eddie…”

“Please what, sweetheart? Hmm?” He slides two fingers inside your slick entrance easily, flushed lips wrapping around your clit to suck harshly at it. He loves it when you’re incoherent for him, your sentences fragmented and unfinished, rendered completely stupid. 

“P-please Eddie. Need a break…” you tug at his hair with urgency, trying and failing to move your hips away from him. “S’too much.”

“But baby,” Eddie murmurs against your cunt, the bass of his words reverberating throughout the rest of your sweat-soaked body. “You taste so fuckin' good.”

A broken moan sounds out from your parted lips, and you’re unsure if you even really want him to stop. Sure, you’re overstimulated and sensitive, with every touch from Eddie magnified a thousand times over, but there's just something so fucking addicting about the way he touches you. 

“Edddieee…Eddie, I don’t want them all to hear me,” you persist, frowning as you realize how much teasing you’re going to endure tomorrow; he’s been going at it for over an hour now, making you mindlessly scream and beg and whimper as you grind desperately on his face- it’d be a miracle if nobody at the campsite heard you by now.

“But why not, babe?” Eddie questions, between purposeful licks at your oversensitive clit. “You sound so fuckin’ hot. I bet you’ve got all the guys so hard right now. Probably stroking their dicks as we speak.”

“Eddie,” you gasp as he applies intense suction to your defenseless clit, increasing the pace of his fingers as they fuck you. “F-fuck, Eddie!” 

He trails his free hand up to palm at your heaving tits, tweaking and tugging your peaked nipples until they sting. “I bet Robin likes hearing you too. Wonder if she’d ever wanna join us some time?” 

He’s so unabashedly filthy, and it turns you on more than you’d care to admit; you lick your lips, breath lodging in your throat when Eddie raises one of your legs to hoist over his lean shoulder.  “E-eddie, please.” 

“Yeah, that’s it, baby. You let everybody know who that pussy belongs to,” he grins, curling his fingers inside of you. “That feel good, hmm?”

“Y-yes, Eddie,” you choke out, hoarse and gravelly, your resolve completely undone. “So fucking good…”

“Know it’s a lot for you, baby. You’re being such a good girl, yeah?” he hums his praise affectionately, maintaining contact with your clit, which he proceeds to swirl his tongue against. “You can gimme a few more orgasms, can’t you, sweetheart?” 

“I- I think so…” you murmur, your eyes fluttering as you teeter at the brink of climax, your thighs trembling as they wrap snugly around your lover. 

He poises a brow, lifting his head a bit so you can see the arousal glinting crudely on his chin. Tilting his head, he gives you a disapproving, “You think?” 

You know from his expression to correct yourself, stirring your hips back and forth to gain a bit of traction now that he’s stilled his fingers inside of you. “I-I know I can give you more orgasms, Eddie. I will.” 

You know that you’ve just sealed your fate with the declaration, but you’ve accepted it; he jerks you forward, diving back into your heat as his fingers curve within the narrow walls of your pussy, making sharp contact with your g-spot.

You cry out, writhing your hips as he pounds into you fast, each thrust of his fingers angled with well-learned precision.  “That’s my girl. C’mon, I know you can be louder than that.” 

He’s such a fucking asshole, encouraging you to humiliate yourself further, but you’re too whipped to do anything but comply. Tossing your head back, you call out his name over and over, voice pitched and whiny and surely loud enough for all of Hawkins to hear. 

He doesn’t stop, but he does take a brief moment to meet your eyes, a smile detectable even with his features partially obscured. 

“Thaaaat’s my girl.” 

[wheatnoodle]

in the middle of august in 1989, three years since the world fell apart, a year since they put it back together, steve harrington disappeared.

the night before had been…okay. they had a bonfire by the quarry, the whole lot of them. the party, older siblings, friends of older siblings. and steve. steve, who sat silent as he watched his friends.

the kids were up on each other’s shoulders, trying to knock the others in the water. they even got eddie a part of it, mike up on his shoulders. robin is sitting with nancy in the shallow part of the water by the edge, picking up rocks and giggling to each other. and steve stays by the fire, closer to the trees and on one of the logs they pulled over as a makeshift seat. his knees are to his chest, arms on top of his knees, and chin on top of his arms. he watches them. he watches the fire.

he watches the trees and every movement that catches in his peripheral. his ears are tuned into every sound around him. every gust of wind through the leaves, every snapping twig. it gets him flinching, sets his every nerve ending on fire and traps the smoke in his throat. steve clears his throat as quiet as he can. he can’t draw their attention to him. not when they’re all having so much fun. he can’t drag them into his anxieties, resurfacing traumatic memories for them at the same time.

and so, he’s quiet. he wants to go home. or at least anywhere but here. anywhere with a roof over his head and a lock on the door. as if that would protect him. he just wants to sleep. just one night without a night terror that has him waking up to his own hands clawing the scar across his neck open. again and again. it stays red and irritated, angry and raised. all of his scars do. almost like they didn’t heal properly (newsflash, they didn’t).

steve considers getting up and leaving. not even saying a word, just climbing in his car and driving home. but that would make too much noise. that would put their attention on him. that would have people running after him. so he waits. until the fire starts dying down and nancy loads more logs on because her and robin want to warm up after sitting in the water. robin drops down next to him.

“dude, you’re so quiet, i swear i almost forgot you were here.” she’s laughing as she talks, her cheeks rosy and eyes bright. steve turns his head to look at her, plasters a sleepy smile on his face that he hopes she can’t see right through.

“yeah, i guess so. ‘m just tired,” he mumbles, tipping his cheek to rest on his folded forearms. her brows twitch a small crinkle in the middle and the corners of her mouth droop slightly.

“everything okay? not to sound like i’m watching you or anything like some creep, but you’re quiet a lot lately,” robin asks quietly. her voice is laced with concern, as if her face didn’t say it already. she puts a hand on his shoulder, rubbing it through his tshirt. he winces feeling her palms run over the ridges of his road burn scars. he knows she can feel how…textured…it is. but unlike himself, she doesn’t pull away in disgust. just wraps her arm over his shoulders.

he doesn’t answer but she hears him. a soft kiss gets pressed to the side of his head and he leans into it, closing his eyes at the affection.

“you will be okay.” she sounds so sure as she speaks, he almost believes her.

“thanks. i think i’m gonna head home though. i really am tired and i’m getting eaten alive by mosquitoes out here,” steve says and stands up, stretching his arms over his head. his spine cracks in multiple places, being hunched so long causing him to stiffen. robin stands as well.

“if you need anything you’ll call me, yeah?” she says, her arms weaving around his waist and head dropping onto his chest. steve’s arms wrap around her shoulders, his chin on her head.

“yeah. of course,” he nods, squeezing her tighter, “i love you, robin.”

she sighs softly into his chest, breathing in the scent of his cologne and sun warmed skin. smells like home. “i love you, steven.”

“gross. don’t call me that,” he smirks and pushes her away lightly. he looks over at his friends in the water. just a bit longer. “say goodbye to them for me, yeah?”

“course. go get some sleep,” robin smiles, pinching his cheek before walking back to the water. he turns around to walk back to his car, his face falling now that the facade didn’t need to be held up.

he got in his car, turned it on, rolled down the windows and drove home. he could see the bonfire in his rear view mirror as he left.

they will be okay.

when he make it home, he wastes no time. doesn’t give himself the chance to rethink. he just pulls his suitcases from his closet and loads them up with every piece of himself he can find. clothes, pictures, shoes, sports cards, everything. his room looks fake. it looks like a catalogue. never lived in, no trace of steven alexander harrington.

he takes one last glance around. he hates it here. his house. hawkins. indiana. he can’t breathe here. he can’t sleep. the shadows are shaped like things that try to kill him.

fuck this place.

he packs the suitcases in his beamer, and steve is gone.

[ashwhowrites]

1, 2 & 6 from the smut prompts with subby jonathan or steve ;) thank you so much!

People voted for subby Steve 🫡

Never proofread. I hope this is what you were looking for

~~

I’ve never seen you squirm so much

A and B have a code name for a dirty word. While at a social event with lots of people, A casually slips the word into conversation, causing B to choke on their drink and get very red in the face.

A texts B reassuring and flirty texts from the opposite side of the room. A watch in glee as B checks their phone and their face goes dark red.

~~~

Steve was always known as a ladies' man, he was the king for a reason. He knew his way around the bedroom and knew how to treat the female body. But there was one girl that flipped him on his stomach and made him feel things he has never felt before.

She was his girlfriend, and he had no idea how he got so lucky. He finally received the love he gave out. And he has never experienced someone desiring him so intensely.

He felt safe with her, he could let his brain disappear when he was around her. Just a puppy dog following her every move.

It didn't matter where they were, he was attached to her side and blindly following every instruction.

It was Dustin's birthday and the group was at the bowling alley. Robin and Nancy wanted to do boys against girls. Steve immediately pouted and begged to be on the team with his girlfriend.

Robin refused to budge, throwing her arms around Y/N and placing a wet kiss on her cheek. Steve pouted at the action, giving Robin a glare as everyone began to search for their bowling balls.

As the game went on, it got competitive. Steve and Robin were tied, and neither wanted to lose to the other person.

Robin knew if anyone could throw Steve off of his game, it would be Y/N.

"Help me out, here. Get him all nervous and twitchy." Robin whispered in Y/N's ear. The boys were already celebrating their win as Steve knocked down eight pins. He had a chance to knock down two more.

Y/N walked over to Steve with a proud smile. Handing him a cup of water. He smiled as he took the cup, taking a small sip as she leaned into his ear.

No one knew what she said, but the way Steve's eyes went wide, and he choked on his drink. He nodded and coughed. He walked a little bit away from her, drinking his water as he prepped himself to bowl again.

"Wow Steve, I didn't peg you as someone who was so good with balls." Y/N joked as Steve set up to throw the ball.

She knew the group would focus on the inappropriate joke and not the fact she said peg with a taunting tone. She watched as Steve lost his grip, the ball being thrown right into the gutter.

Robin squealed as she raced for her turn to bowl.

Steve felt his body blushing as he covered the front of his jeans with his hands, walking over to Y/N with a pout on his face.

She smirked as he moved in her arms, hiding his face in her neck.

"Someone a little excited?" She teased, rubbing his back as he groaned in his neck.

Robin squealed as she beat Steve's score.

~~~

Steve suffered as his jeans grew tight. Sitting in a booth across from Y/N. Her eyes locked on her phone as the table shared plates of food. Steve couldn't bother to eat, what he was craving was not an option at the moment.

Steve felt his phone vibrate, confused he pulled it out.

He tried to hold back the whimper as the thread of naughty texts from his girlfriend filled the screen.

He could tell his face was on fire, burning from head to toe.

Y/N watched in joy as Steve shrunk in his seat, shifting over and over. His eyes looked up to her and down to the floor. Switching back and forth.

She could almost taste the beg on his tongue.

~~~

By the time they made it back to Steve's house, he had been on her back since. His arms wrapped around her waist, whimpering in her ear, and pouting whenever she gave him attention.

He wasn't sure how much more teasing he could handle. He ached all over and his mind was only focused on getting a release.

"I've never seen you squirm so much." Y/N teased, her arms wrapped around his neck as he looked down at her.

"Can you just have mercy on me already? I can't handle anything more." He whined, no shame in using his puppy eyes to guilt her into being nice.

She did take some pity on him. Leaning up to press her lips against his. Swallowing his whimpers. Her hands played with his hair, causing his knees to grow weak.

He let his body melt, releasing his lips from hers as he kissed down her neck, her chest, stomach, and placing a final kiss above her pants. His forehead resting against her stomach, arms around her thighs.

His neck turning to look up at her, water in his eyes.

"please, baby, just something." He whined.

"yeah? Just need me to help you?" She mocked

He nodded as he sniffled. Rubbing his face against her stomach.

"what do you want?" She asked, her hand running through his hair

He mumbled against her stomach, the words muffled by the material of her shirt.

"again?" She asked, yanking his hair so his head snapped up.

"I want to cum." He said, loud and clear so he wouldn't get in trouble for having to repeat himself.

"there's your big boy voice " she teased, patting his cheek softly with her free hand

He waited for her next instruction. He wasn't sure how he would get to cum, but he wouldn't be picky.

"hump my leg and make a mess in your boxers."

He felt a sob in his throat but kept it together

"can I please be in you?" He asked

She gave him a look, and he knew to back down. Swallowing more of his own whimpers and straddling her leg.

He held on to the back of her thighs as he began to rock his hips against her. The rough material of his jeans scraping against her. He shivered as his cock felt the sensation.

He closed his eyes, embarrassed that he was desperate enough to cum that he'd hump her leg.

He felt like dying in embarrassment when he could already feel the need to cum. He was pathetic.

He tried to pace himself, rub himself to feel good but not cum all over himself.

But she would never miss a chance to embarrass him.

"nah uh, don't pace yourself. You are pathetic, we both know you are. So show me how pathetic you are." She demanded

He nodded his head and began to rub himself faster. Moans escaping his mouth as he clenched her thighs in his hands.

He could feel the build up. Panting as he rubbed himself against her as fast as he could. His jaw dropped as he silently whined when he felt his balls tightening.

"that it? Gonna cum?" She asked, her hands back to playing with his hair.

He couldn't answer, his brain melted. His insides were vibrating and his cock was throbbing.

The sound of her mocking giggle sent him over the edge. Whining loudly as he coated his boxers in his cum.

Slowly riding out his orgasm. Gasping as each movement of his hips made his cock sensitive. His tip hit the puddle of cum that now rested in his boxers.

His ears were red and burned. His face flushed in embarrassment.

"my good boy" she teased, dropping down to his eyesight. Smirking as her hand ran over the wet spot in his jeans. Loving the way he jumped and shivered.

"round one is done."

[steviewashere]

Terrifyingly Intense

Rating: General CW: Minor References to Sex, Steve Harrington's Self Worth Issues Tags: Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Arguing, Apologizing, Making Up, Steve Harrington has Self Esteem Issues, Emotionally Hurt Steve Harrington, Emotionally Hurt Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington is a Lover, Steve Harrington Loves Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Happy Ending

For the @steddielovemonth prompt: "Love is terrifying."

💕—————💕

Steve doesn’t know what’s wrong with him.

He’s pretty incapable of being normal about how he loves Eddie. From week two of their relationship, Steve was ready to get down on one knee and propose. Which is insane of him. They’ve been close friends since Eddie woke up in early April. And somewhere in there, Steve said the words all over again with true intent and intense feeling. Now it’s December and they’ve been together for less than a month. And Steve is driving himself up a wall.

But it makes him sick to his stomach.

Yeah, he said “I love you”, to Eddie. He’s said it out of fear in the hospital. Said it with hysteria in that field some weeks ago. But that doesn’t change the way Steve wants to say it again. In a sobering moment. When they’re doing something mundane. And he hasn’t disappointed anybody around him or nearly lost anybody to some third world grave danger.

He should know how to do this.

Yet, here he is in their little relationship—which, truly, feels too intense and big for human language—pulling himself away whenever Eddie wants to see him or talk to him or be with him.

Logically, he shouldn’t be doing something so stupid.

But—God—he’s so afraid. Afraid that Eddie will wake up one day, realize just how intense and lonely and nuts Steve is, and he’ll break off what they have. And then…Well, then Eddie won’t wanna be friends, he’ll stop hanging around, he’ll make up excuses to not have Hellfire in Steve’s dining room, he’ll do something crazy like unfriend all of them, he’ll get the fuck out of Hawkins, he’ll leave everything he’s ever known behind.

Yeah, Steve can’t be the cause of that.

So, he hides away. Keeps himself busy. Occupied, whatever. Hands never idle. Brain never quiet. Eyes never rested. And he stays away from Eddie.

——— By the second week of Steve’s little shenanigan, Eddie has caught on.

It’s obvious by the hurt that simmers in his eyes. His soft scowl. The lingering touches that used to make Steve’s skin light up with arousal, now fleeting. Just as fleeting as every other love anything Steve’s ever involved himself in. But he’s too afraid of whatever realization Eddie will make of him.

To be vulnerable, well that’s like death to Steve. He remembers one of the last times he did so. Sans Robin’s confession, because Steve doesn’t think he had an actual thing for her—he’s easily convinced, okay, and he’s also an extremely lonely person. But Nancy definitely left her mark on his self worth, that’s for certain. Bullshit bounces around his—what he thinks—empty skull. If he allows himself to love strongly, he’ll be bullshit eventually. If he forces himself to pull away, he’ll probably still be bullshit.

He won’t win either way.

And that’s apparent by the next time Eddie comes pounding on his front door. Very literally. His fist making the whole door shake.

Steve rips it open, ready to spit fire at whoever is there, but all words die on his tongue in the face of Eddie’s open anger. Eddie’s face is furrowed everywhere possible, his eyes are like lasers, skin red and redder as he looks at Steve.

“Hey, Eds,” Steve tries to coo.

“Cut the shit, Harrington,” Eddie growls back. He shoves his way past Steve. Stumbling into the foyer. It’s been raining and Eddie’s soaked, dripping water from his leather jacket onto the floor, but Steve is too stunned to do anything about it.

In fact, Steve’s stomach is lurching. His mouth filling with saliva. Ready to puke. He shuts the door behind himself, turning around to fully face Eddie. “What—uh—What’s wrong, babe?”

Eddie looks around the space. As if hunting for something. His eyes are sharp when he glares back. “You aren’t busy,” he spits, “you didn’t have a shift at work, I already asked Robin. And you very much so aren’t sick.” He crosses his arms over his chest. The squeak of his jacket loud between them. “When you’re sick, you’re miserable. Like a wet fucking cat. You make a whole ordeal of it. And I come to your rescue every time. Yet, you’re lying to me.” He steps closer into Steve’s space. Steve steps away, back slamming into the door. “Why are you lying to me?”

Steve shakes his head. “I’m not, Eds. I wouldn’t—“ He bunches his palms at his sides. They’re sweating. His stomach still heavy and twisting. Chest pulsing. “—I wouldn’t lie to you. I don’t know—“

“Then why are you pulling away?” Eddie is practically pleading for an answer. His voice goes pitchy. “I hardly see you anymore. You claim your busy or sick or whatever—But you never are!” He exclaims, his words echoing.

Finally, Steve finds his strength to move. Stepping around Eddie, speeding into the kitchen. Eddie is following him, his footfalls heavy and clumsy, chasing. He won’t give Eddie an answer because he’s not sure which words to even say.

“Sorry I’m pulling away, I love you too much.” That doesn’t even make any fucking sense. Steve never makes sense. This whole thing is starting to make him dumb.

He pulls open the fridge, sticking his head inside, acting as if he’s about to make food. His hands rummaging, digging through his things, knocking containers over, nearly breaking some glass condiment bottles. If he can just get Eddie to grow disinterested in this conversation, maybe he’ll leave and Steve can stew in his feelings, up until he actually knows what to say.

God, what is wrong with him?

“Talk to me, Steve,” Eddie is demanding. “Please just talk to me. Is it something I did? Did I hurt you the last time we had sex or something? Were you dissatisfied with the last date I took you on? Because I can think of a million other things to do, to take you to experience, if you would only talk to me!” He begins to shout. Steve flinches where his head is still buried. He’s always hated arguing, reminds him of his parents, if he’s being honest. But Eddie doesn’t know that. And he hasn’t taken notice. So he continues on, “Maybe you didn’t like the Christmas gift I got you? Is that it? What did I do? Please, Steve, please just—“

“I can’t!” Steve finally yells back, standing up ramrod straight, the fridge door quietly and gently closing behind him. He shifts on his feet, hands bunching at his sides once more. He shakes his head, the tears already prickling in his eyes. “You don’t want to know, okay? You’ll think it’s stupid or something and then I’ll feel worse and I—You can’t know.”

His eyes dart up to Eddie, When was I looking at the floor? And Eddie looks…Well, he looks damn unhappy about that answer. But also severely concerned. He chews at his lip, crossing his arms once more, popping his hip so that his body is leaning away from Steve. He sharply exhales. “If you cheated on me or something, you can just say that. And I’ll get out of your hair.”

“What?” Steve squeaks. “Why would you think that? I wouldn’t do that to somebody.”

“Then what’s wrong? That’s all I can possibly think of as to why you’re putting distance between us.”

He stiffens, swallowing. Sniffling. God, why is he about to cry? His breath stutters in his chest. Stomach churning and churning and flipping. “It’s because I—“ He hiccups a sigh. “It’s because I love you too much, okay?” He whispers. Steve can’t make his voice any louder than that. The shame at the admission coiling tight in his throat and chest. He crosses his own arms, fingers wrapping around his elbows, fingernails digging into his soft flesh. “Like so much, you’ll think I’m insane. And then you’ll get weirded out by me. And you’ll think I’m fucking with you or something and then you’ll just leave. Like everybody else has.”

Eddie softens. Arms dangling loose at his sides. He hesitantly gets closer to Steve. “Baby,” he’s softly cooing, “why would that make me not love you? All I want is to be loved by you.”

“I’m scared,” Steve confesses. “I’m scared you’ll hear me and you’ll see how much I love you and you’ll leave. Or you’ll…You’ll realize something that a lot of other people tend to realize—“ He takes a gasping breath, something salty landing on his tongue. Of course he’s crying. “You’ll just realize that I’m a bullshit person. That I’m too much and too intense and too enamored, or whatever. You’ll realize that I’m bullshit in the sense that I don’t know what to do in a crisis or when I need to make somebody happy. You’ll think I’m bullshitting you about every fucking thing. Because I—“ A sob leaves his chest. It’s got claws, it hurts on the exit.

Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie slowly raises his left palm and cups Steve’s right cheek. His other hand lands on Steve’s opposite bicep. He runs his hand up and down the arm in tender swipes. “Steve,” Eddie starts, his voice low and trapping—his words are almost congested. “Sweetheart, your feelings aren’t bullshit. You aren’t bullshit because you feel something. Especially something like love. You deserve to have that. And you deserve the possibility of reciprocating.”

“I love you so bad, Eddie,” Steve cries out. “It fucking terrifies me how much I do. And I—“ The sobs come easier now, rattling his whole body, crumpling him bit by bit. Eddie shuffles in and drags Steve to his chest. And over Eddie’s heart, Steve mutters, “I don’t know how to be normal.”

Eddie’s hand on his bicep moves to the back of Steve’s head. His other hand falling away to Steve’s shoulder. “I love you, too,” he murmurs. “It physically hurt to not have you near me. I thought that I fucked everything up, Stevie. I love you so much, it threatens to destroy me sometimes.”

Steve nuzzles in closer. Tentatively wrapping his arms around his middle. “I’m sorry.”

“No,” Eddie whispers, “You don’t need to apologize. I understand, it’s alright.” He presses a chaste kiss to Steve’s head. His lips lingering. “Besides, I’m the most abnormal person fucking ever, sweetheart. Your love won’t chase me away. Never ever. You never have to be scared about loving me too much. I welcome it.”

“Okay,” Steve mutters, “I’m still sorry.”

Eddie sighs. “I know, love bug,” he whispers. “I know you are.” He moves his arm to wrap around Steve’s own torso, swiping his hand in one long, soothing stripe over his spine. Another kiss, this time to Steve’s temple. “Let’s order some pizza or something, alright? We’ll cuddle on the couch and calm down. I’m sorry for yelling at you. Sorry for assuming the worst. I just love you so much and I know you love me, too—I couldn’t come up with a single reason why you’d stop.”

“I don’t think I can stop, which is also scary. But—Like a good fear? It gives me adrenaline.”

Eddie’s chest vibrates with his laughter. Bright in the otherwise gloomy and dark place Steve’s found himself in. “Don’t you ever stop,” he demands. “I want your love all the time. I’ll tell you if something bugs me, alright? Don’t go assuming. Because I love you, Stevie. I love you so much.”

Steve pulls back, face pointed up at Eddie’s. He matches his soft smile. “I love you, too. Let’s get some pepperoni pizza, though. Because I am fucking hungry.” He squeezes his arms around Eddie. “Hungry for you, too.” And he saunters away.

In return, he hears Eddie shout after him, “You better make do on that! I missed you too much for you to tease me!”

Maybe he should learn to just trust his gut. To just admit what he’s feeling. Because it seems, if he’s honest about it the first time, good things happen in return.

💕—————💕 Gotta be honest, this isn't my best work. I've been feeling pretty mucky recently and nearly didn't have the energy to write. But I think this suffices.