#toxic!steve harrington

[justmeinadaze]

Colors (Part of Halsey AU)(Eddie X You)

A/N with Warnings: You don't have to have read the others to understand this but it helps. Part of this AU. While the universe is a Steddie pairing, this is about one of the readers experiences with Eddie when he was an addict. I'm writing one for Steve next. I would place it between part one and two of the series.

Warnings: 1994 is healing Eddie munson and 1985 is Toxic/Addict Eddie with Fem Girlfriend Reader, SMUT, slight dirty talk, comfort, needy intimacy

ANGST, Eddie unintentionally triggers Y/N and she disassociates, Steve uses his therapy skills to bring her back and help them both, Eddie exhibits toxic behaviors (yelling, degrading, throwing things, accuses her of cheating), He unintentionally throws something and almost hits her. Mentions of Steve's alcoholism. Wayne scolds his nephew and worries about him "ending up like Allen". A teacher is a dick and belittles Eddie.

The flashback doesn't have a happy ending but the 1994 timeline does. Obviously because events in the series...

Word Count: 4815

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"You're dripping like a saturated sunrise You're spilling like an overflowing sink You're ripped at every edge but you're a masterpiece And now you're tearing through the pages and the ink."

1994

“Hey, pretty girl.”, Eddie beams from his place at the stove where he was making dinner. “How was your day?”

“Good. Long.”, you sigh as you hop up on the stool by the counter as you watch him move around. “My editor wants me to rewrite the article and he just kind of made me feel bad.”

The metalhead’s back straighten as he turned to face you. 

“What did he say?”

“He kind of insinuated that I’m slacking and that I’ve turned in way better work than this. He’s right ya know?”

“What? No, sweetheart. Fuck that guy!”, he shouted as he turned back to his pan to stir the food. “Y/N, you writing is amazing! That asshole fucking sitting on his high horse behind his desk like he’s God or something dictating what’s ‘acceptable’. He should feel fucking lucky he has someone as talented as you!”

His long hair lightly smacks his cheek as he turns to throw a smile your way but your wide eyes and frozen stature has it falling from his lips. 

“Y/N?”, he coos but you don’t respond. “Baby?”

Tossing the spatula he was holding to the side; he turns off the stove and comes around to cup your face in his palms. 

“Sweetheart, look me. What’s going on?”

You were mumbling something as your mouth moved and he had to place his ear right above your lips to even put any of the words together. 

“What do I have to do? What do I have to do? What do…”

“STEVE!!”

####################

1985

You stare at his empty seat beside you in class when you should be listening to the teacher speak about trivial things like Shakespeare and Hamlet. Eddie had been there that morning when you shared your breakfast with him and Steve knowing they most likely didn’t eat because their vices made them nauseas especially in the mornings. 

Now it was your first class after lunch and he wasn’t here. When he walked away from you, he said he had to go to the bathroom but he would be there before the bell rang. You couldn’t help but envision him hiding in a stall before digging into his pocket to look for the vile filed with powder he felt like he needed to survive. He was probably smearing it along the point between his index and thumb before bringing it to his nose to inhale deeply. He most likely thought about how late he was going to be and how disappointed you were in him but the pull of the high was stronger. 

“Y/N?”, the teacher calls jerking you out of your thoughts. “Do you want to answer my question?”

“I, uh, I’m sorry what was the question?”

“I asked if you thought Hamlet loved Ophelia especially with the way he treated her.”

“Um, I feel like it’s more than what’s on the surface. Hamlet seems to hate her when he says mean things to her and calls her names but he was so consumed by things going on inside his head… that he lashed out and said things he didn’t mean.”

The teacher’s eyes scan you over as the bell rings and kids start to stand to pack up their belongings.

“Alright, class. I’ll see you on Monday. Don’t forget your assignment due first thing Monday morning! Miss Y/N, would you mind staying behind for me?”

You nod as you finish putting away your things before following behind him to his desk where he takes a seat and waits for the last student to leave. 

“Here’s a copy of the worksheet I handed out at the beginning class. Tell him if he skips my class one more time I’m going to have to speak with Principal Higgins and his uncle.” As your lips form into a thin line, you nod again as you reach for the paper, pausing when he doesn’t release it from his grasp. “I know he’s your best friend, Y/N, but you can’t let him keep dragging you down. You are a smart girl and an extremely talented writer. You deserve to excel in life.”

Taking the worksheet, you push it into your backpack and flash him your calmest smile you could muster.

“So does he. Thank you, Mr. Gold. I’ll see you on Monday.”

***

Eddie stirred at the sound of your voice as he forced his eyes open to see a blur standing over him. 

“Hey, sweetheart.”

“Shhh, Eddie. You’re in the library. Come on, it’s time to head home.”

“Is it? Fuck me. I meant to sit down for one second. Ok, let’s go, fuck.”, he grunted as he tripped over his feet and fell into your arms accidently pushing you back. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m ok. I got it.”

As you drove his van, you worried about Steve who was supposed to have dinner with his parents and some of his father clients. Knowing him, after he would binge the booze in the house and then come to the trailer looking for you. You always worried when he went outside drunk, afraid he would cause an accident or if he was walking, ended up somewhere he shouldn’t be. Your parents were out of town this weekend so you planned on staying at Eddie’s to help him with his English homework but knowing them none of that would get done. 

“How was class? Did Mr. Asshole have anything to say?”, he sighed as he turned his body to face you while you drove. 

“No.”, you lied. “But he did give me the worksheet we worked on and then he mentioned we have that homework due on Monday.”

“Fuck, I haven’t even started that. I don’t Hamnie.” His eyes flick towards you when you giggle making him smile softly towards you. “What? Why are you laughing at me, pretty girl?”

“It’s Hamlet, dork.”

“Oh, excuse me.”, he teases before tilting towards you to kiss your cheek and leaning on your shoulder. “I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you to, Eddie.”

***

“Fuck me.”, he whines under his breath when he sees his uncle’s truck still by the trailer.

Taking a hold of your hand, he practically yanks your arm out of its socket as he pulls you to the door and through the living room. 

“Ed.”, Wayne calls before the boy even makes to the hallway. Sighing, he releases you and takes a step back to meet his guardian. “I got a call from a couple of your teachers today. They said you weren’t in class.”

“I was. They must be mistaken. Y/N can vouge for me since she has a couple with me.”

You stiffen as he points to you but Wayne already understands what his nephew doesn’t seem to. It’s not fair to put you in the middle. 

“I’m not asking her, I’m asking you. Your English teacher tells me you’re about to fail his class and your science teacher said you’re one test away from an F.”

“Ok, ok. Jesus, I’ll do better.”

“You said that last time, kid, and the time before that! I won’t tolerate it anymore. You need to get your act together. When I took you in I promised you’d have a better life! I won’t allow you to end up like Allen!”

Eddie’s entire body straightened as you felt the anger practically radiating from him. 

“I’m nothing like him. Now, don’t you have a deadbeat job to get to?!”

Your heart broke for Wayne when you say his own crack open through his eyes. Grabbing his cap, he shimmied around his nephew and paused by the door. 

“Y/N, would you like me drop you off at home on my way?”

Taking ahold of his hand, you caress it gently with your thumb piercing Eddie’s chest as he watches you comfort his uncle. That was the kind of person you were and one of his favorite things about you. You were so kind and full of love he felt he didn’t deserve.

He was always terrified one day someone would notice that and take you away from them. Or even worse, you would realize you deserved better and leave. No…he couldn’t allow that. Eddie and Steve needed you. Without you they were less than nothing; they were empty. A blank canvas with zero color or a dark room with no light. 

“I’m actually going to stay here tonight, Wayne. Thank you and be careful. It looks like it may rain soon.”

Glancing towards the hallway Eddie had disappeared down, he nods and lightly shakes you hand before letting go. 

“Yeah, it does.”

***

“Fucking asshole. I’m nothing like my dad.”, he grumbled as he pulled out a cigarette and lit the end. “And what about you, huh? Why the fuck didn’t you defend me out there?!”

“I didn’t…I don’t want to be in the middle, Eddie.”

“Bullshit! You put yourself in the middle all the fucking time! Why didn’t you tell me Mr. Gold was going to call him?! Do you want to see me in trouble?!”

“No! He told me if you missed one more class then he would call him.”

“So, you lied to me!? He did talk to you?! Why the fuck did you lie?!”

“Because I didn’t think it was a big deal. You are going to class and I’m going to help you get an A.”

“By fucking him?”

“Excuse me?!”

“You heard me! You and I both know you’re not as innocent as you claim to be, little girl! What else did he say huh?! Tell me!!”

Your jaw tightened as you defiantly planted your feet into the floor. 

“He said I deserved better and that I’m an amazing writer! He thinks I’m going to make something of myself one day.”

“And he’s going to help you right?”, he sneered.

“Yes, you fucking dick! You caught me! He said all I needed to do was meet him after class and if I do whatever he wants he’ll help me get into school just to spite you!”, you lied watching as he slowly got amped up the more you spoke. “Is that what you want to hear?! It seems to be because you accuse me of bullshit like that all the time, Eddie!”

“Because I know you’re not fucking perfect like you pretend to be, you fucking whore! FUCK! Teachers think I’m a fucking failure, you think I’m a fucking idiot apparently, and my uncle thinks I’m like my father. You want to see me like my fucking father, I can show you what Allen is capable of. 

You watched him with wide eyes as he trashed his room around you both muttering things to himself under his breath while the destruction happened around him. You were never afraid of either of them when they got low like this. Neither boy had ever hurt you physically and the viper tongue you had long gotten used to. It was when all sense seemed to fade and the light that usually gave you hope disappeared into the background of their anger that you started to worry. When caution was haphazardly thrown to wind and they were no long present which was rare but happened. 

Like now…

He wasn’t even sure what he threw until your squeak filled the room and a loud shattering crash pushed some of the drug induced fog out of his brain. It took him a moment as his eyes darted around the room looking for you before he realized you were on the floor with your hands covering your head. 

“Y/N?” 

Behind you there was now a hole in his wall the size of the ashtray he threw with ashes suddenly sprinkled all around you. 

“Baby! Oh my god!” Falling to his knees, his hand reached out to dust the mess from your hair but you coward away and his heart shattered. “Sweetheart…FUCK! I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t mean what I said or…” When he tries to touch you again, you forcefully shove him away. “Baby, please, let me make it up to you. L-Let me hold you.”

The last of your resolve faded away as he reached for you again and this time you allowed him to lift you into his arms, where he pulled you onto his bed and held you tightly to his chest. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. You’re too good for me, princess. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“Eddie…what do I have to do…to show you that I love you both and ONLY you both?”

“Nothing, baby. I know. It’s the blow…fuck…you deserve better. I swear I’m never taking another hit. I hated seeing you afraid of me.”

Closing your eyes, you melted into the frame, his hands shaking as he gently petted your head and kissed your shoulder.

“Y/N?”, he whispered but you chose to pretend to be asleep, to heavy in your trauma exhausted brain to even answer back. “I’m scared. If I ever lost you it would kill me, baby, especially if it was my fault. If I ever… no…I could never hurt you, sweetheart. Not like my dad with my mom…or me. Did you know that black eye I had when you first met me…Allen accused me of ‘being too good for this family’. Popped me so hard… That’s not me…right, baby? I’m not…that bad?

Fuck. The fact that I even have to ask myself that says enough. No more, pretty girl. I’m going to get clean and get my act together. I’m going to be the man you need me to be. I love you so much.” His voice cracks and he clings to you tighter. 

When he finally releases you, you do fall asleep only to be woken up to the bed jostling as someone falls into.

“Steve Harrington!”, Eddie hisses in a murmur. “I have a fucking front door. You’re going to wake her up!”

The boy stumbles not so subtly, still shaking the mattress before rising to his feet. 

“Jesus, dude. What the fuck happened here?”, the jock slurred. 

“I, uh, we… I did too much blow at school and…”

“And? You didn’t fucking hurt her did you?!”, Steve growled.

The sounds of him scurrying off the floor before pushing his friend against the wall fill your ears. 

“Shhhhh!! No, dick. I didn’t fucking hurt her and I never would.”

“Get the fuck off me! I had a long night alright dealing with my parents and their bullshit friends. I don’t need you and your bullshit to!”, the boy shouts with zero regard to the volume of his voice. 

“Steve?”, you call as you open your eyes and face their direction. He was drenched from head to toe from the rain outside and you quickly crawled out of bed realizing just then that Eddie had begun cleaning the mess around the room. “You’re gonna get sick, baby. Let’s get you warmed up and dried off.”

Steve’s eyes softened when you took his hand, leading him to the bathroom so he could shower and change before getting into bed. 

***

The following morning, you awoke to the feeling of fingers in your hair and opened your eyes to lock with Eddie’s tearful, bloodshot ones. 

Without saying a word, you reached out to caress his cheek, swiping your thumb along his face to catch the wetness that stained it. Placing his palm over yours, he tilted his head to kiss your skin and nuzzled into the warmth of your hand. 

When his bottom lip trembled, your own tears began to fall as you pulled his body into yours and held him tightly to you. 

Out of all the many states and emotions you have seen both boys in, you hated this one the most. When the pain, no longer numbed by vice, would leak through. You never wanted to see them hurting and did everything you could to remind them that you were there. You desperately wished there was a way you could take it from them to house it yourself. 

Sometimes you would imagine touching your palm to their chest and blue glow would flow from them to you. They would shine brighter and smile wider; maybe finally be at peace. You were strong. You could handle the heaviness of that glow until they were ready to work through it themselves. 

“I’m not my dad.”, Eddie whimpered as his voice cracked. 

“No, baby, you’re not.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry.” Shaking your head, you tilted back so your lips could kiss his. “I get so scared sometimes…I don’t know what I would do without you…”

“I’m not going anywhere, honey, I promise.”

He kissed you again, slowly at first till they became steadily more passionate with his shaking palm gripping your hips to press against his own. In one swift motion, Eddie pulled you from Steve’s sleeping side, underneath his warm frame as his needy kisses promptly travelled to your neck. 

Feeling the movement between your legs, you wrapped your limps around his waist as he shimmied his cock free from his boxers and you licked your palm before reaching down to pump it along his shaft as a heavy pant escaped his lips. Tilting both your heads to look down, you two watch as you move your panties to the side and guide his length inside of you. 

“Fuck, sweetheart.”, he groaned as he collapsed fully on top of you as you circled both your arms around him. 

“I love you so much, Eddie. I know—mmm—I know you’d never hurt me like he did you.” 

As you spoke, the metalhead steadily thrust his hips delivering long, deep strokes that had the head of him deliciously abusing your g-spot while you tried to focus on comforting him. 

“I’m yours and Steve’s. I would—oh my—I would never hurt you or-or leave you for anyone else. I need you.”

Abruptly pushing up onto his palms, his eyes searched your face as he picked up his rhythm.

“You need me, baby?”

You don’t know what made you do it but your hand extended landing directly on his bare chest. You imagined that blue light leaving his heart and wrapping around your wrist, guiding you as your palm moved behind his neck to bring his lips to yours. 

“I’ll always need you, Eddie. Make me cum, honey, please. I-I need to feel you fill me up.” Honoring your request and not caring about the man sleeping beside you, he pumped his hips harder and faster, slamming his cock deep inside you. “Just like that, Eddie, please.”

“Just like that, Y/N? Fuck, say it again. Say you need me.”

“I need you.”

“Again.”

“I need you, Eddie.”

“Ah—again.”

“I need you.”

Taking ahold of your wrists, he pins them beside you head as his own fall into the nook of your neck and his heavy breaths warm your skin. Your body shakes beneath him as the coil snaps and the pillow smothers his grunts as he pounds his release into your cunt. 

As you both pant, you glance towards Steve who was still fast asleep with his head turned towards the wall. When Eddie shifted his gaze to see what you were looking at he couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“Boy sleeps like a rock especially with that whiskey he drinks.” Shifting his gaze to you, he tenderly leans down to kiss your lips. “Tomorrow when we wake up maybe him and I can come up with a plan together on how to get sober.”

Your fingers caress his cheek as he grins and kisses your fingertips. 

***

“Mr. Munson, you seem a bit jittery today.”, Mr. Gold addresses Eddie with an edge as the boy slowly walks to the front to hand him the worksheet with other homework you had given him and worked with him to complete all weekend while you waited for him outside the door after class. 

“Y-Yes, yes, sir. Just, um, trying to get things in order.”

The metalhead just wanted to throw all this bullshit on the man’s desk and leave. He hadn’t had a hit since Friday evening and he felt like his body was trying to kill him. All he wanted to do was go home and lay down with you in his arms. 

“Well, there’s a lot more that needs to be done, son. Did Y/N help you with this?”

“Yes, sir.”

“She’s a sweet girl and very smart. She has a bright future ahead of her.”, the teacher responds absently as he looks through the boy’s assignments. 

“Yes, s-sir. We tell her that all…all the time.”, Eddie winces as he grabs his stomach. 

“Hm. It’s interesting that you tell her that yet you continue to drag her down. She’d probably be in one of our higher courses we offer here but for whatever reason she insists on being where she’s at.”

“Steve and I would never do anything to keep Y/N from being great.”, he growled. “She’s our best friend and we love her.”

“But not enough to grow with her it seems. All right, well, I’ll go over these and input your grade later. Keep showing up and doing the work. Who knows, maybe we can keep another Munson out of jail.”

Eddie’s eyes widen as his brain goes into overdrive before reaching over the desk to grab the paperwork you both had work so hard on and ripped it in half.

“EXCUSE ME!”

“You’re not fucking excused, asshole!”

“Eddie, wait—“, you called trying to stop him as he shoulder checked you and powerwalked down the hallway. “How could you say that to him?!”

You teacher grumbled as began picking up the pieces of paper around him. 

“He did a couple of assignments, Y/N. He has a lot more things he needs to do to show me he actually wants to do better and this isn’t a tick in his favor.”

“How the fuck is he supposed to do better when you belittle him like you just did?! He worked all weekend trying to catch up!”

“Watch your mouth, Miss Y/L/N, or I swear to god I’ll call your parents.”

“Call them! Hell, I’ll tell them when I get home what an asshole you are! You’re a teacher! You’re supposed to guide him not bring him down!”

Turning down the hall, you went on the hunt for him, ending up in the parking lot where he was sitting in his van.

“Babe?”

A small smirk painted his lips as he lazily leaned his head to face you. 

“Hey, sweetheart.”

“Eddie…please…”

“No, baby. Everything…everything’s ok. I actually feel a lot better, you know. Fuck that guy. I’m going to show him how amazing I am and pass that stupid class with flying colors so I can shove it in his face!” 

As his glassy eyes meet yours, your heart shatters into pieces once more as you wonder to yourself why you even bothered to get your hopes up this time when every time before has always had the same outcome. 

“Come on, pretty girl. Let’s get something to eat.”

 After climbing into his van, he inhales and rubs the bottom of his nose with his finger before glancing toward the glovebox to make sure it was closed and reaching for your hand to hold onto his lap. 

###################

1994

Ice touching your arm startles you back into the moment as you gasp and squeeze the hand holding yours. 

“There she is. It’s ok, honey, you’re ok. Breathe. Good girl. Inhale…and exhale…good.”, Steve smiles as he places the cube he was holding back into the cup by his side. His cold fingers continue to run along your skin as he watches your eyes fleet from left to right. “You’re alright. We’re in our apartment in Detroit and your safe, baby.”

“Is she ok?”, Eddie murmurs as he bites the nail on his thumb. “Do we need to go to the hospital or doctor or something?”

Steve calmly shakes his head as his other palm pets your hair. 

“You’ve seen her do this before in high school. She’s disassociating.”

“Because of me? I-I didn’t mean to. I didn’t even think. I—”

Both men watch as your head hangs and you start to sob. You allow Steve to pull you into his arms while he continues to comfort you while his friend waits helplessly on the side lines. 

“Shhhh. We got you, Y/N. You’re safe. Everything is ok. Hey, Ed, why don’t you go make her a bath with those smells she likes?” Without hesitation, he runs that way and the other boy allows him a moment before carrying you to the bathroom. “There we go, pretty girl. There’s no rush ok? You sit here as long as you need to and I’m going to go finish dinner. Is it ok if Munson sits with you?”

You nod and in return he kisses your forehead but before he can leave Eddie grabs his arm. 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? What if I scare her again?”

“She’s not afraid of you, Eddie. Trust me. Whatever happened I’m sure you didn’t do it intentionally. It could have been something as small as a smell or as big as a raise in your voice. Whether we like it or not…we’re responsible for her pain… we just have to be there for her and do whatever she needs.”

“Yeah…yeah…hey, um, can you show me what you did out there to bring her back? Just in case in the future, you know?”

“Of course. Right now, though, I think it would be good for you two to talk.”, he smiles as he pats his friend’s back and leaves the room. 

Exhaling out the nerves, he takes a seat on the floor beside the tub facing you as you stared forward. Your gaze shifted towards him, however, when he leaned his head back and accidently hit it a bit too hard causing him to wince as he rubbed his head. 

A little snort laugh left your lips and he grinned as he playfully rolled his eyes. 

“Oh, that’s funny, huh? I think I just lost some lyrics to a few songs with that little bonk.” When his eyes meet yours, he sees that light that had been reflecting through them this past year return and he sighed in relief. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

“You didn’t scare me.”, you murmur. “I think it was just a combination of my day and…”

“And what?”, he urges as he rests his chin on his arm that’s laying on the edge of the tub. 

“I don’t want you change who you’ve become, Eddie. You didn’t do anything wrong. My brain just…sometimes things trigger it…”

“Because of what we did.” Your head hangs but he immediately places his fingers under your chin to lift it again. “Baby, we own it. That’s what therapy and rehab taught us. We can never take that back even though every day I wish we could. I wish I could just touch your brain and take away all the pain we caused but I can’t.”

“I always wanted that with you two. I thought of me touching your chest and…”

“Yeah but sweetheart it’s no longer just you facing this alone. You don’t have to carry it alone.”

“My editor said the things he said and then you raised your voice. It reminded me of that incident with Mr. Gold.”

“Pfft, yeah…Mr. Asshole.”, he chuckles as he shakes his head. “I heard he’s not teaching anymore thank God. I, um, that was when I accused you of wanting to sleep him. I threw things including the ashtray…”

When you nodded, he swallowed at the memory. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. Do you want to talk about it? I don’t mind. It helps me to understand you know?”

You two talked until the water got cold. 

Eddie brought you to the bedroom to dry you off, put you in comfy pajamas, and brush your hair. By the time Steve said dinner was ready, you wouldn’t have been able to tell anything had happened at all. 

The metalhead threw you over his shoulder and you giggle all the way to the couch where he lightly tossed you down to sit beside you. 

“Don’t get used to this, rockstar. Here you go, honey.”, the other boy teases and hands you both your plates. 

“Thank you. Oh, hey Steven! Fork?”, Eddie sasses, grin widening when you laugh. While they playfully banter, you grab the remote and flip through the tv. “Oh, princess, look!”

“Yes!”, you beam as you both get more comfortable and Steve whines as he places himself beside you. 

“Why? Do we have to watch blood and cuts?”

“Yes.”, you and the metalhead announce at the same time. 

Eddie smiles down at you and tilts down to kiss you lips. 

###########

[hawkinsbnbg]

Steve got injured so many times that he was kind of used to it. So one day, when he was preparing dinner and accidentally burned himself, he just ran his fingers under the tap like usual and then returned to chopping onions.

He was so lost in his zone that he didn't realize Eddie had seen it all, nor notice when Eddie left the perch on the counter to go retrieve the quick aid kit from the bathroom.

“Can I have a minute with you, sweetheart?”

“Sure,” Steve put his knife down and turned off the stove, wiping his hand absentmindedly on his apron in the process. Before he could ask what was wrong, he was gently steered to one of the dining chairs by Eddie.

“Have a seat, baby,” Eddie pressed a small kiss on his temple to soothe his confusion.

Once Steve settled down, he belatedly saw the kit on the table.

“Eds,” he said fondly as Eddie sat on the chair next to him, slightly exasperated at his boyfriend’s overprotectiveness. “They just sting a little.”

“But you were still hurt,” Eddie applied the burn cream on his injuries carefully, brow furrowed deeply in concern. “Which means I’m hurt, too.”

Steve’s heart gave a heavy thud to that. He didn't know what to say. Even after years of being cared for by Eddie, he still forgot sometimes that he didn't need to do everything alone anymore. Including patching himself up and hissing at the pain.

When Eddie was done, he kissed Steve's bandaged fingers one by one and gazed at him with those big brown eyes all the while. Steve wished they didn't work so well on him every single time.

“Alright, I promise I’ll be careful next time,” he conceded. And continued when Eddie just kept staring at him in silence. “No overlooking my injuries or hiding them from you, either.”

Linking their pinkies together as Eddie demanded, he met those triumphant eyes.

“Happy?”

“Very,” Eddie nodded solemnly.

Then stood up and caged Steve in his chair with a wolfish smile. “Let’s seal it with a kiss, baby.”

Steve leaned forward to meet Eddie halfway.

And knew this was what love tasted like.

[artiststarme]

One day the kids wake up and they can’t find Steve. They search his house, the school track, the basketball courts, anywhere they can think of where they might find him and he’s nowhere to be found. When they go to Robin’s house, she’s missing too. Her parents haven’t seen her since she disgraced their family by proclaiming herself to be a lesbian.

Even Eddie hasn’t seen either of them and that’s particularly worrying since the three of them are always together.

Both Steve and Robin come back two weeks later with sunburns and matching tattoos on their wrists. They had been at one of the Harrington vacation homes in Florida getting drunk, checking out girls, and getting tattoos. It’s also when Steve realized he was interested in Eddie and plants a smooch on him as soon as he gets back to see Eddie checking out his ass.

[strawberryyyenthusiast]

Thinking about Addams Family Steddie AU because it has me in a chokehold

Steve being the center of Eddie’s affections and being a little creeped out at first because “Robin, why the fuck is there a lock of hair in a ziploc bag in my mailbox that has a note attached that says ‘My devotion to you is stronger than any physical thing keeping me attached to this planet?’”

Eddie showing up to Steve’s place with gifts everyday and explaining that he is his neighbor and would do anything for him, just say the word.

Steve doesn’t admit it at first, but he gets excited when he hears that— having someone love him so deeply and intensely as he loves others has been what he has wanted his entire life. Reciprocation is one hell of a drug for Steve.

Eddie takes Steve on dates and traditionally courts him and makes sure that Steve is comfortable and happy with each outing that he plans.

It takes a little over a month for Steve to cave and realize that, yes, this is what he has been wanting in a partner. Someone who will love and cherish him and devote themselves to him, just as he will do back.

They get married on their three month anniversary, which is apparently much longer than most Munson’s wait

Eddie had said to him when Steve asked why him, why Steve of all people, Eddie replied with, “When you know, you know. And I knew immediately.”

Steve Harrington becomes Steve Munson and adopts to their ideals much faster than expected.

He still wears his polos occasionally, but he has started to incorporate more black into his wardrobe. Flowing pieces of fabric that make Steve look ethereal next to Eddie in his black dress shirt and pants. Silver pieces of jewelry adorning his tanned neck.

Robin comes to visit the newlyweds and is shocked (but not surprised) at how well Steve turned into his true self. He is letting himself love unabashedly and wholeheartedly without fear of rejection. He is expressing himself in a way that Robin knew would happen eventually when the right person came along. She sees how happy Eddie makes her platonic soulmate and thanks the gods everyday for giving her best friend a lover that matches his energy entirely.

Robin also doesn’t question when people start to go missing— people that have wronged Steve in the past. Most specifically, his parents.

When she hears the two husbands talking one night when she is staying over, she just smiles and shakes her head. The Harringtons were never good people.

“How would you like it done, my love? Quick and painless or long and torturous? I can slip something into their drinks, if you would prefer?

“Long should do the trick.” Steve hums. “Can I come with you?”

“Of course, mi amor. It would be an honor.”

[2jihiir0]

circa 1996, somewhere in Chicago 🖤

Eddie just got out of prison and Steve hasn’t heard about him since the events of 86 ..

[lioniheart]

(It was based on a take I saw earlier today but I think it got deleted)

"Why don't you like me?" Steve asks, not meeting his eyes.

They were on the new Hopper-Byers's back porch, a little bit after dark. The rest of the party had gone inside a while ago but Steve wanted a smoke and Eddie decided to have one as well. It was quite chilly for a summer night, and the wind made both of them shiever a bit.

"Excuse me?!" Eddie replied, after a half a minute of confusion. "Who said I didn't like you?"

"C'mon, man, I know the kids say it a lot, but I'm not actually an idiot!"

"What the fuck are you talking about, princess?"

"See?! Right there! Look, I just don't get it. I know you overheard that conversation I had with Will last week, but I thought you were all for that non-conformist bullshit, and let me tell you, fucking with someone because of their sexuality is very "the man" of you!" His voice was still hushed, but Steve had turned all the way to Eddie's direction now, glaring at the metalhead with what he tried to make look like defiance on his eyes, but were clearly just hurt.

"Steve-"

"The thing is, you've been treating Will just like always, so maybe that isn't it, wich is so more confusing, because I really thought we were getting closer, but now you keep making these jokes and... I don't get it! Did I do something wrong?"

"What?! No--" the other tried to interrupt, but Steve's rambling just kept on coming.

"Is it because of high school? Is the ‘princess’ thing some kind of payback for the whole King Steve bullshit? Dude, I know I was a douchebag- hmpf!"

Eddie, sensing Steve was about to spiral, clasped his hand on top of the boy's mouth.

"Stevie, I'm going to need you to stop right there, okay?" His voice was calm, but his heart was racing. Steve's eyes were wide, his cheeks pink, and Eddie couldn't help but notice how much closer they were now. "I'm so sorry I made you feel like I was mocking you. That was definitely not the intention. The total opposite, actually.” Steve made a questioning noise behind the ringed hand “The princess thing was me being an idiot, actually. I was just..” Deep breath in, deep breath out. “I was trying to flirt with you, sweetheart. Apparently, I’m really bad at it.”

[steddie-as-they-come]

someone: so why do you ship steddie?

me: well i like steve harrington. and i want steve harrington to have good things. and in the interest of giving steve harrington good things, i give him eddie.

[c-is-for-circinate]

It feels like there's this narrative that fandom keeps wanting to explore, with Steve Harrington, about this very specific type of martyrdom where self-sacrifice is an expression of a lack of self-worth. And, like, yes, write the narrative that's meaningful to you, and yes ok Steve does admittedly get beaten up a lot, but -- legitimately I do not think this narrative is actually Steve's story.

Like, without gendering things too much, there is something in the Steve fanon that I keep seeing that's so reflective of the specific kind of sacrifice and societal pressures exerted on girls, specifically -- this story of 'you make yourself worthy and worthwhile by carving pieces out of yourself', of believing that you must always give and never receive to justify the space you take up in the world. Yes, boys can experience this same pressure (and obviously trans and nb people of all genders run into it as well! sometimes a lot!), but especially in the mid-1980s cultural context where Stranger Things takes place, it's just...really not likely to be a dominant narrative for Steve to be operating under? It doesn't even really match the Steve we see on screen -- who is happy to make sacrifices for the sake of others, yeah, when needed, but who's not particularly kind or giving unless somebody asks first.

And Steve does get hurt a lot on other people's behalf! And this is a problem! It's just a completely different problem than the one fandom keeps writing.

Steve, and I'm going to say this forever, is a story about toxic masculinity, which the show may or may not even know it's writing. The archetypes influencing Steve's character as it shows up on the screen (and the stories and messages that Steve would actually be surrounded by in his actual life) are not deconstructions of suffering heroes who never should have had to fight in the first place and were destroyed by it. That's the Buffy the Vampire Slayer story. Steve's not Buffy. Steve's cultural context is Indiana Jones.

Steve is The Guy! And part of being The Guy is that you're expected to take the hits -- not because Steve is less important than the women-and-children he's supposed to protect, but because, the story says, he will get less hurt. Why should Steve get in between Billy and Lucas? Because Steve is an eighteen-year-old athlete and Lucas is in middle school, and of the two of them, Steve actually stands a chance. (And yes, Steve got badly hurt there, and Max had to save him -- but if Lucas, if Max had taken that beating they would not have been running through those tunnels later.) Was somebody else better-qualified to dive down to the uncertain bottom of a cold lake in the middle of the night? Steve doesn't list his credentials there as a way of justifying some ideal of martyrdom; he is literally the most likely person on the boat not to drown.

And make no mistake: when Steve's pulled into the Upside-Down, he survives the bats long enough for backup to get there. Realistic or not, he's apparently tough enough that he's physically capable of hiking barefoot through hell without much slowing down. Steve is the tank for the same reason as any tank: because he literally has been shown to have the most hit points in the group. You cannot honestly engage with Steve in this context without dealing with the fact that he's right.

AND THIS IS A PROBLEM! This is still a problem! But it's not the same problem that fandom seems to expect. It's not an expression of caretaking or the need for self-sacrifice; it's not an issue with Steve valuing himself less. It's an issue of toxic masculinity so ingrained that Steve doesn't even recognize he's suffering from it, because one of the tenets of toxic masculinity is that Big Strong Guys don't suffer. It's just a concussion, it's fine, he'll walk it off. It's not that Steve thinks he deserves to get hurt, or even that he's less deserving of safety than the others. It's that absolutely nothing in his cultural context allows him to admit that he can be hurt in a significant way.

There's still so much tension that can be gotten out of this situation, I swear. There's so much that can be explored in writing! Hell, the show itself is deconstructing some of this trope, believe it or not, by giving us a Steve who absolutely can take all the hits thrown his direction but still doesn't know what the fuck he's doing with his life. It turns out that doing his job as The Guy is only mildly helpful in horror movie situations (mostly by buying time for smarter, squishier people to do the damage from behind him), and somewhere a little worse than useless in everyday life.

But Steve does not go out of his way to self-sacrifice, he really doesn't. He just does his job. He's The Guy. Of course he's not going to let a kid or a girl or some scared skinny nerd who just learned about monsters yesterday take the hits. Of course Steve's got this.

[bleedingoptimism]

Calling Eddie on the phone that first time, when he’d panicked about Tarja’s cold, was like opening a dam. They start talking on the phone all the time. At first, it’s always about Tarja, photos of her drawings, a story about school, questions of whether she forgot her plushie in Steve’s car again or not.

But then it’s just them chatting, asking about their day, showing each other what they are working on, or sharing a meme. Soon, they start wishing each other goodnight and Steve knows he’s stepping into deep water with both feet at the same time but he can’t stop.

He likes Eddie, a lot. He’s in too deep already. He was already halfway in love with him when he realized he liked him as much more than a friend… That he liked him much more than he liked his own boyfriend. That he doesn't even like his boyfriend…

But if Steve was dreading breaking up with Tommy not to lose Tarja… now that he has double the people to lose… There’s no way.  Thinking about not seeing them again makes him feel like he’ll never be able to take a full breath of fresh air again. 

They are hanging out at the park the day Steve completely loses control of the situation. He’d promised Tarja he’d take her there last week and Tarja had begged Eddie to join them so now, they are sitting side by side on a bench watching Tarja build sand castles with another kid in the playground.

The comfortable silence gets interrupted by Steve’s phone going off and, checking his messages, he sighs, already bothered by seeing it’s from Tommy.

‘get your big pretty ass home soon. i have guests tonight’

‘Big? Shit. Is my ass too big?’ He thinks as he frowns at his phone.

“Everything ok?” Eddie asks, looking at him curious.  

“We need to get back, it’s Tommy” is all Steve says, shaking his phone in explanation. He can’t help but pull a face of exasperation trying to make light of the situation but Eddie frowns.

“Steve, about Tommy… If he’s not good to yo-” 

“You sound like Robin” Steve interrupts, he’s talked to Eddie about his best friend before, but he never mentioned Robin is always telling him to break up with Tommy. 

“Well, then I’m not that far off am I?” Eddie presses kindly, ducking his head to try and catch Steve’s eyes.

But Steve keeps them fixed on his shoes. There’s a stain on the tip of his left one. 

Eddie takes his silence as agreement and keeps going, “Why haven’t you broken up with him, then?”

Why does Eddie want him to break up with Tommy? Is he trying to get rid of him? Does he not like him around? No, it’s not that. Eddie is his friend, he’s kind and lovely and has never once been mean or rude to him and Steve needs to stop projecting.

But, he can’t answer that or tell Eddie the truth, he thinks. And then, his eyes betray him, drifting from the floor to Tarja, who is now…being buried in the sand with the help of the other kid. Her little feet kick up as she giggles delighted. He smiles to himself a little. That kid, she’s a menace.

Eddie gasps and Steve realizes his mistake. He looks at him and Eddie is looking back, eyes huge,

“Steve… don’t tell me, it’s-”

Steve shakes his head no frantically, “No, it's not- there’s a lot of reasons! It’s not- Ugh fine, it’s not only because of her but, she’s one of the reasons…” he struggles to say.

And then he shrugs, like ‘What can you do? Hehe’ Because he’s an idiot.

Eddie stares at him for a long time, unblinking and with his mouth half open, “You’d do that for her?” he whispers and it sounds so… raw.

Steve just looks at him, not knowing what to say and trying really hard not to get distracted by Eddie’s beautiful lips.

He suddenly turns to face him properly and takes Steve’s hand with both of his, “Fuck, Steve…” he says and then closes his mouth shut and opens it again. Steve leans a little closer eager to hear whatever Eddie wants to say but then his phone rings and he jumps off his seat, startled.

Looking at the caller ID, he curses, “It’s Tommy”

He picks up the call and starts walking in a big circle, he can never sit still while on the phone,

“Hey,”

“Hey dummy, you didn’t answer. Is everything ok?” Tommy asks like he’s actually worried and not just impatient.

‘Dummy’... it’s supposed to be affectionate but every time Tommy calls him that it feels like he’s sticking a needle in his heart.

“Yeah, we are at the park, we’ll be right there. I’m-” But Tommy hangs up before he can finish the sentence. 

“Asshole,” Steve murmurs to himself and looks back to see Eddie has already collected Tarja and is waiting for him.

Seeing both of them holding hands and smiling up at him makes Steve want to cry and scream at how much he needs them. He’s so fucked.

🧸

A week later, he’s at a dinner with Tommy and Tommy’s coworkers. 

Because Tommy doesn’t have friends, he has coworkers. Because friends are for children.

Or so Tommy says… Fuck Tommy.

He’s bored out of his mind and pushing his food around on his plate. Lost his appetite after Tommy looked at him funny for ordering fries instead of a salad. 

He can’t stop thinking about Eddie, about him asking why he hadn’t broken up with Tommy yet, and about whatever it was that Eddie didn’t say that day.

And then, as if it were fate or something, he gets a message from Eddie, he looks at it under the table when he sees it’s a photo. Not that Eddie would send him a nude or something he just doesn’t want anyone else to see.

However, he might’ve been wrong about the nude because Eddie is shirtless in the photo he sent, Steve notices with burning cheeks.

But the photo is not sensual at all. Instead, it’s the cutest, loveliest thing he’s ever seen in his life. It’s Eddie and Tarja standing in front of the big mirror in Eddie’s hallway with big smiles, identical dimples on their right cheeks. Both their curly hairs are bundled up on top of their heads and they are covered in paint. 

All of Eddie’s tattoos are colored in bright colors, his demon skull, the sword, the dragon, the goat, the vines that adorn his top scars, everything. The colors don’t respect the lines and the paint is dripping a little, clearly Tarja’s work. Meanwhile, she has cute skulls, bats, and roses drawn on her arms, and her freckles are now every color of the rainbow. They are fucking beautiful.

The text below says ‘she forgot toothless at tommy’s. im trying to distract her’

Steve bites his lip to hide a big smile and sends at least a hundred heart eyes emojis and then answers he’ll bring it back later.

“Are we boring you, Steve?” One of Tommy’s coworkers asks. He can hear the venom in her voice.

‘Yes’

“No, not at all. Just answering a text,” he says with a closed-lip smile.

“Oh! Let me guess, from your ‘job’” she laughs, doing air quotes with her claws, and then whines, putting on a voice, “Help me, Steve! I can’t decide what to wear to a party” 

They all laugh, Tommy included and Steve just glares at her unsure if he should rise to the bait or not. 

“Aww, don’t be mad Stevie,” she coos at him, “I’m just messing with ya!” she smirks and then looks at her nails as if she were a disney villain or something, “I wished I’d gone to college for something as simple as fashion. You are very lucky to be so successful,” And they laugh again. Only one of them has the decency of looking uncertain about it and Steve is seething.

Lucky?! He’s worked his ass off to get to- whatever- he takes a deep breath and smiles at her.

God, fuck his people. They are so… miserable.

Making other people feel bad about themselves just because there’s no joy in their own lives. He feels sorry for them.

But Tommy laughing alongside them makes him feel sick to his stomach.

After, when they are going back to his place, Tommy takes one hand off the wheel and puts it on Steve’s thigh slowly going up. Steve briefly considers opening the door and jumping out of the car in motion but ends up just slapping Tommy’s hand off of him aggressively.

Tommy scoffs but he doesn’t say anything and keeps his hands to himself the rest of the way. And when they get home, he confronts Steve, “What’s got your panties in a bunch now, uh? Steve, we haven’t fucked in weeks!”

Steve swirls around and laughs, “Are you shitting me right now?! You want me to let you touch me!? After how you just laughed at the way Carol talked to me?” he says.

“Uhg, not this again! Did you get your feelings hurt again, princess?” Tommy mocks him and Steve rolls his eyes so hard he wishes he could do a backflip to accompany them. Hell, he probably could.

He doesn’t even bother answering Tommy, too sick of his shit, and just walks past him on his way to the door.

“Oh c’mon, Stevie! We were just kidding!” Tommy says, changing his tune completely and trying to sound nice. Then doing another 180 when Steve just keeps getting ready to leave, “Why are you so fucking sensitive. Are you seriously leaving right now?!”

Steve doesn't stop, doesn’t even look at him and Tommy follows him to the door, “Good! Fine! Leave! Run back to your Robin. You’ll be back!” he tells him, and Steve hates that he’s said it before and had been right. But when he’s closing the door as Steve is walking towards his car Tommy yells one more thing that completely breaks him, “You are too much work, Steve! You are not worth this much trouble!”

Steve slams the door of his car and drives away but ends up pulling over a few blocks later because he can’t see through the tears.

He whales and heaves, shaking while he rubs his eyes over and over again. All he can hear in his head is ‘you are not worth it. you are not worth it. you are not worth it. you are not worth it.’

Fuck Tommy.

He takes a deep breath trying to calm himself and rests his head against the headrest, rolling it from right to left and massaging his scalp but when he looks to the left, something in his passenger seat makes him gasp. As if it were fate or something… Toothless, Tarja’s plushie is sitting right beside him.

☝️first part

👈previous part

👉 next part

☕🥐💕?

[justmeinadaze]

I Miss the Misery Part 2 (Steve X You)

Part One Here

Warnings: Toxic Daddy Stevie (but he wants to be better)/ Slightly Toxic Fem sub reader, SMUT, dirty talk, rough play, daddy kink (cause im me), choking, spanking, degrading, Slight Fluff, she loves him and he loves her but they both struggle with their feelings, ANGST, Jealous Steve AND Reader, Steve gets drunk after a bad experience with his father (he talks about it; elaborated), They both try to verbally hurt each so they say mean things to each other ( they call each other names, bring up past behavior, etc.) , cliff hanger ending!

Word Count: 7058

It had been a couple of weeks since your incident with your ex Steve Harrington. When you came home that night your boyfriend was still up waiting for you. You talked things through like any normal couple would and that night you both went to bed happy. Well, he did. You laid there for hours replaying the nights events in your head. 

You could still feel Steve’s hands on your hips where he clung to you as he thrust his big, thick cock into you roughly till your eyes rolled back. You could still hear his grunts and pants warming your ear as his sweaty body fell on top of yours. 

But more than anything, you kept going back to the conversation after. 

“Yeah, well, if we’re toxic then I’d rather go down with you than anyone else.”

“I just kept wishing they were you.”

“I feel like we can make this work.”

You had always believed the two of you could make your relationship work but the problem always was that he could never commit to it. He had you for two years in high school and he, quite literally, let you slip away. It wasn’t fair to you for him to think he could just show up one day and you’d drop everything to be with him especially when you knew it would end badly. 

A strong hand reached out from the darkness of an open door and yanked you into the room before slamming it shut. 

“What’s this I’m hearing about you going on a date with Ben Lomax?”, Steve asked sternly as he glared down at you. 

“Well, hello to you to, Harrington. I hope you had a good weekend.”

“Don’t play with me, Y/N.”

“What do you care? We’re not dating right? I can go out with whoever I want to.”

Butterflies flutter in your stomach as you watch his jealously rise. You liked amping him up like this so he’d take what’s his. 

“You’re mine, little girl.”

“Then claim me, Daddy. Make me yours.”

It felt so good having him take control the way he did even though you knew it wasn’t healthy. No… you couldn’t allow him to win this time. This time you needed to do what was right for you and Jacob. Rolling over onto your side, you wrapped your arms around his torso and pressed your face into his back, clinging to normality tightly as you finally drifted off to sleep. 

***

“Hey, baby.”, your boyfriend grinned as you sat beside him at his desk and he handed you some items in a grocery bag. “Thank you for coming by. You know how my mom is. I’d give her back these things myself but this project…”

“I know, honey. You’ve been working really hard.”, you reply encouragingly as you softly smile. 

The smell of his cologne hit you before the sound of his voice. Glancing down the hallway, you watched as Steve argued with someone over the phone as he sauntered confidently towards you both. Your body and attitude prepared for the battle that was sure to come but to your surprise he walked right past you as if you weren’t there. After angrily hanging up his phone, his face changed to a much softer demeanor as he grinned, opening his arms wide as a blond young lady eagerly jumped into them. 

“That’s Mr. Harrington’s new girlfriend I hear.”, Jacob whispers. “She’s a lot younger than him but I guess that’s expected when you have all the money in the world.”

You hadn’t heard a word he said, the fury bubbling in your stomach up to your chest. 

“I can play this game better.”

Fucking asshole. He wants to pretend I’m not here and try to make me jealous, go ahead! I’m not the same girl I was in high school. This won’t work. 

“Baby? Are you ok?”

“Hm? Yeah, sweetheart. I’m fine, just tired.”

“I understand. Hey, tonight we’re meeting at the bar downtown. It’s just going to be the team here. Would you want to go?”

Shifting you gaze their way again, you watched as Steve beamed down at the girl before tenderly kissing her lips. 

“Yeah, I think that sounds fun.”

########

“So Y/N, how is the new book coming along?”, Jacob’s coworker asked as you took a sip from the alcohol in your glass. 

“Good, thank you. I’m having some writers block but it’s not a big deal. Not as big a deal as what you guys have been working on.”

“Yeah, thankfully we’re almost near the end.”, another girl at the table sighs. “Mr. Harrington has really helped us out. He’s been buying us lunch for the office every day.”

“And letting us leave early on Fridays so we can have a bit of a break. He stays in the office to make up the time.”

You couldn’t help but smile at their praise. Steve had always been a complete asshole but even during your relationship with him you saw the compassion and kindness that hid under the snark.

“Y/N? Honey, are you alright?”, he cooed as he sat on the bench beside you. His long fingers tenderly reached out to dry the tears that were still falling down your cheeks. 

“I’m fine, Steve. You don’t have to…”, you tried to dismiss him as you waved your hand. 

“I know I don’t have to. You know me. You know I don’t do anything I don’t want to.” Steve firmly grabbed your wrists and turned your body to face him a bit more. “Now, what’s going on, babe?”

“My, uh, my grandfather died.”

At your revelation, you began to cry harder and he collected you in his arms, pressing your head to his chest. 

“Shit, Y/N. I’m so sorry. I know you two were really close. Everything’s ok, pretty girl. I’m right here.”

“Speak of the devil…Mr. Harrington! Hey! Why don’t you come sit with us?!”, one of Jacob’s friends shouted bringing you back to reality. 

Steve Harrington was the devil indeed with how delicious he looked dressed in his jeans and black button up shirt. His signature smile blinded the table as he grabbed his dates arm and headed towards you. 

“Hey guys. You don’t have to invite me. I’m sure you’re tired of dealing me for 40+ hours a week already.”

“Oh, come on. Join us. It’s no problem at all.”

The sound of your glass slamming into the table startled everyone including Steve as he finally gave you his attention. 

“Yeah, Steven. Not a problem at all. Take a seat.”

His head ticked to the side in amusement before taking a seat and pulling his date onto his lap making you cringe in annoyance. 

“Y/N apparently went to school with Mr. Harrington here.”, Jacob explained to his coworkers who were still fairly wide eyed at the way you addressed him. 

“That’s pretty cool. You two were friends?”

“Nope. Hardly even knew each other. Right, Harrington?”, you sassed. 

Turning away from you, he focused on the original question. 

“I wouldn’t say friends. We definitely knew of each other. Everyone in Hawkins did with it being a small town and all.”

Throughout the rest of the night, you constantly fumed in his direction every time he opened his mouth. His hands constantly roamed his date’s skin driving you insane every time she would lean back and nuzzle her face into his neck. In retaliation you tried to do the same with Jacob but you knew that was a lost cause because he wasn’t very keen on the PDA. 

You drank more and more until the world around you got hazy.

“How long have you two been together?”, someone asked as they gestured towards him and his date. 

“Um, about two weeks I believe.”

“Hm. About how long she’s been in the world.”, you hiccupped as you knocked back a shot on the table. “I mean…look at you, Barbie. You’re basically a fetus.”

“Y/N.”, Jacob whispered. “That was rude.”

“No, no Jacob. It’s ok. I see she hasn’t changed much. Y/N here had kind of a reputation for being bratty at school.”

“And Steve Harrington had a reputation for being a man slut.”

“Alright, I think we’re going to go home. Come on, babe.”, you boyfriend said sternly, gripping your arm. 

“How about you guys come to my house? It’s a lot closer and you can get her to bed so she can sober up.”, Steve replied casually. 

“Oh, Mr. Harrington, we couldn’t impose.”

“I insist. Come on, honey.”, he grins as he slaps the girl’s ass playfully. “It was nice spending time with you guys. Jacob, just follow me.”

***

It took you awhile to catch your bearings when your groggy eyes opened and you realized you weren’t at home. 

“Jacob?”

Glancing beside you, you noticed his peacefully sleeping frame beside you so you left him be as you got up to find a bathroom. Wherever you were it was a very nice place with the updated furnishings and new home smell. 

It took you a moment to find a bathroom but after you did, you shut the door and ran the cool water over you face. 

What happened last night? I remember Steve showing up at the bar…a dizzying car ride…lips on mine…angry eyes. Maybe Jacob was upset for how I behaved. I need to make it up to him. He doesn’t deserve me acting like a drunk fool in front of his friends. 

Sighing, you opened the door to head back to bed but was met with a strong hand around your throat pushing you backwards into the bathroom and closing the door. 

“Are we sober now, little girl? Good because I really want this to sink in.”, Steve growled as his face hovered above yours. “If you ever disrespect me like that again I’ll throw you over my knee and spank you till you can’t handle it. I don’t care where we are or if your fucking boyfriend is in the room. Do I make myself clear?”

“What…what…I don’t remember…”

“You don’t…don’t…remember?”, he mocked. “Well, let me refresh your memory. I told your idiot boyfriend to bring you back to my house so you could rest because you were insulting my girlfriend and embarrassing yourself in front of his coworkers. When we got here, I showed him my spare rooms and left you guys alone. While I was getting ready for bed myself, the door was open and you were on your fucking knees IN MY HOUSE sucking another man’s dick AND CALLING HIM DADDY!”, Steve scolded roughly in your ear through clenched teeth.

Finally gathering your faculties, you pushed at his chest causing him to release you but only long enough to invade your space again as his face hovered just above your own. 

“I’M your Daddy.”

“Not anymore.”

“Oh? Did you also forget that you showed up at my office two weeks ago begging for my cock and calling me Daddy? Or was that some other pathetic little girl?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised with how many women you’ve fucked in your lifetime.”

“Said the whore. Let’s not forget how many guys you were with in Hawkins.”

“I wasn’t with anyone! I went on dates but the only person I ever fucked was you!”

“Yeah right. Do you expect me to believe that? Hell, you cheated on your boyfriend with me!”

“Like it matters if you believe me or not. Technically I was single in school. You couldn’t bother to be seen with me because I was fucking poor. Jesus. You say I’m pathetic but the truth is you are; a pathetic little daddy’s boy. Couldn’t even start or find a company of your own. You had to play sloppy seconds to his business!”

Steve’s palm covered your mouth roughly as he pushed you forcefully against the wall. His breathing became erratic as he heavily panted trying to control his temper. His eyes stared daggers into yours for what felt like forever till something in the air snapped and he replaced his hand with his lips. 

It was a rough kiss fueled by anger and you felt your pussy flutter at the notion. Riled up Steve was always one of your favorite versions of him because he claimed what was his in the best way possible. This is what you wanted. You wanted him to realize that he hated the idea of you not being his and fought to have you by his side. The problem was he did claim you but never truly made you his. 

Your arms pushed at his chest but his grip tightened as he held your wrists to your sides. Moving them to one hand, he utilized his now free palm to smack you before grabbing your cheeks with his fingers. 

“Do you want to stop? Say the word and we’ll stop.”, he growled. “Answer me.”

“No.”

“No what?”

“No, I don’t want you to stop.”

“I didn’t think so.”

Aggressively, he turned you around and pushed your body against the sink as he moved aside your panties while freeing his cock from his boxers. After spitting into his hand and stroking it along his shaft, you both groaned as he guided himself into you promptly setting a rough pace. 

“Baby?”

Your eyes widen at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice on the other side of the bathroom door and you see Steve smirk from his reflection in the mirror. 

“Y-Yeah?”

“Are you ok? I woke up and you weren’t there.”

The man inside you slowed his rhythm, dragging his length pleasantly along your tight walls before slamming himself back into your pussy making your eyes roll as your nails dug into the arm he had around your stomach.

“I-I’m okay, Jacob. Ahhh… I’ll be right there, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, you will, baby girl. You’ll—mmm—crawl back in beside him full of my cum like the fucking whore you are.”, Steve whispers, his lips attaching to your neck as your head falls against his shoulder. 

“Okay. Are you sure you’re all right?”

Picking up his pace again, his cock overwhelmed your senses as you tried to control yourself from screaming his name. 

“YES! I’m fine. I’ll be right there!”

“Alright, honey. I love you.”

Steve’s eyes met yours in the mirror, softening slightly when he saw pain flash through them. 

“I love you to.”

He knew you weren’t saying it to your boyfriend but to him, however, Jacob thinking your love was meant for him infuriated Steve as he spanked your ass hard before wrapping both arms around you to hold you still as he slammed his lower half into your own. 

“Who’s your Daddy, little girl?”

“You are, Steve, please.”

“Say it again so I know you fucking understand.”

“You are, Daddy. Please. Let me cum. I’ll—fuck—I’ll be a good girl. I promise.”

“No you won’t but that’s ok. I don’t mind putting you in your place.”

As his fingers find their way to your clit, you bite your bottom lip to stifle the loud moan that wants to break free. Placing your arms and hands over his own, you cling to him as your body trembles and you cum hard around him. His rhythm falters and you hear him grunt in your ear before you feel his release spill inside of you. 

Steve pants as his softening cock pulls out of your aching hole and tucks himself back into his boxers as he takes a seat on the edge of the tub. Maybe it was the headspace you were still in or just seeing him look so upset hit that soft spot in your heart but you couldn’t help it when you lowered yourself to your knees and crawled to his side, placing your head on his thigh as you hugged his legs. 

“I’m sorry I called him Daddy.”

His large palm reached out to pet your head making you sigh as you closed your eyes. 

“No, you’re not. Yeah you were drunk but your subconscious definitely wanted to hurt me and that would be the way to do it. It’s not like I didn’t do the same thing by bringing a young, beautiful girl around. I knew she’d piss you off.”

“Why do we have to be this way to each other, Steve?”

“I think the real question, sweetheart, is why do we like it?”

“Why do I like it so much with you?”, you whisper. As your tears begin to fall, he leans down to collect you in his arms and places you on his lap. “I tried, whatever the fuck this is, with other men and every time I got hurt. They were you times 10. Then I met Jacob and—”

“He’s the exact opposite.” 

“And not in a good way.”, you sigh as you caress his face with your palm. “Steve, I didn’t have sex with anyone else when we were in school. The first time I was every with someone who wasn’t you was after I left. I hated it… he was too rough and almost every conversation we had was a fight.” Turning his face towards you, you tenderly kiss his forehead. “I swear, I never called any of them Daddy. They would beg me to but it always felt wrong. Only you ever knew how to take care of me like that. I just wish you could have taken care of me in every other way.”

After softly kissing his lips, you crawled off his lap and headed back to bed to curl up in your boyfriend’s arms that you wished were Steve’s.

##################

Another week went by in uneventful domestic bliss as you continued to be the best girlfriend you could. Today Jacob and his coworkers were celebrating finishing the project they had been working on with a camping trip up north. He had invited you to come along but after what happened you thought it best to stay put. You also weren’t really a fan of sleeping outdoors without AC but you kept that little tidbit to yourself. 

You utilized the alone time to work on your novel and get things done around the house but after a couple of hours, you found yourself extremely bored. Throwing on your jacket and grabbing your keys, you headed to a bar down the way ordering the strongest drink you could think of. 

Once again, the smell caught your attention first before the snarky laugh that followed. 

“Of course. Of course. Of fucking course, YOU of all people would be here.”, Steve giggled drunkenly as he knocked back his beverage and signaled the bartender for a refill. 

He looked completely disheveled, his hair a mess due to his fingers running frustratingly through it. The suit jacket he had worn was hanging on the back of the chair while his white button up shirt was untucked and the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. 

“Steve? What happened?”

“Like you care.”

You should have walked away; left him there to wallow by himself but this nagging in your stomach wouldn’t allow you to as your worry for him took control. 

“I do care. Come on, Steve, talk to me.”

Spinning in his seat, he leaned his side obnoxiously over the bar as his glassy eyes met yours. 

“What happened. Hm…Y/N wants to know what the fuck happened. Well, we finished our project at work today. Managed to sign a huge fucking client worth millions! But does that impress my father? Oh, no. Fucker has to fly up here just to berate me and scold me on what we need to do next. This isn’t my first day on the job. I’ve watched that asshole work my entire life and he can’t even let go for one God damn second to see I did something good!”

“You’re right. I remember he was always hard on you. I saw him scream at you once after a game even though the team won and you made the most points. He said you didn’t try hard enough.” He nods at the memory, chugging the content of the glass and again asking for more. You discreetly signaled to the bartender that this was the last one as you focus your attention back on the broken man in front of you. “I hope you know he’s wrong. I know how hard you worked on this.”

“Yup. I know, Y/N. I’m not a fucking idiot. Why are you even here? I’m toxic remember?”

“You are but that doesn’t mean I want anything bad to happen to you. Let me take you home.”

“Fuck you. I can fucking take myself home.”, he growls, finishing the last of his beverage. 

“Ok. Can you at least text me and let me know you got home safely?”

After rubbing his shoulder comfortingly, you put on your jacket and pay for your drink but as you turn to leave, a warm palm abruptly grabs your wrist. 

“Y/N, um… C-Can you come home with me? I promise I won’t make a move or anything. I just… don’t want to be alone.”

***

“Oh shit!”, he laughs as he falls through the door after turning the key. 

“Where’s your girlfriend tonight?”, you ask as you guide him towards his bedroom, holding his waist as he stumbles from side to side. 

“Girlfriend? Oh, you mean Barbie?”

“That’s not really her name is it?”

Steve snorts as he chuckles, throwing himself onto the mattress and throwing his arm over his eyes. 

“No…it’s, um, Tiffany. No, Erica…Fuck, I don’t know. I haven’t seen her since you and your idiot spent the night.”

After you flashed him a sassy smirk he didn’t see, you began getting him ready for bed starting with his shoes. You thought he had finally passed out but when you grabbed his arm to take off his watch and class ring from college, his eyes opened, and he tilted his head to watch you. 

“Where can I put these?”, you murmur with a soft smile.

Silently, he gestures towards the bedside table and you reach for the drawer to delicately place them inside. Something catches your eye, however, as you pull out a well, worn picture of the two of you in high school. Steve rarely ever took photos with you back then. Nothing the two of you ever did was ever genuinely photo worthy since you two were sneaking around most of the time. When this image was taken, you were supposed to take pictures for a class project and brought the camera with you to his house after your photoshoot with your group.

“Why do you have a camera? I thought you wanted to be a writer.”, he asks after noticing it in your bag and taking it out.

“Oh, so you ARE listening to me when I talk?”

“A ha ha. You’re so funny, Y/N.”

“It’s for a class project we’re working on.”, you giggle.

“Is the project sexy basketball captains?”, Steve joked as he held the device high in the air away from your reach. “Handsome Men at Hawkins High? Oh! Or Gods in Bed?”

“No. It’s a project about Hawkins jerks who steal stuff and are TERRIBLE in bed.”

You playfully tackle him onto the mattress and lightly wrestle with him till he has both arms around you with your face against his chest. Gently tugging your hair, his lips land on your forehead before traveling down to your own for a tender kiss. 

Holding his arm high above you both, he presses his cheek to your own as you both smile and the flash blinds your eyes. 

“Where did you get this?”, you whisper as he bends towards you and squints his eyes at the image. 

“Ummmm… stole it from your room…snuck in.”, Steve sighs as he rolls onto his back and closes his eyes. “You were…gone…vanish from…Hawkins.”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you turn off his bed side lamp but as you begin to stand, his slurred voice fills your ears. 

“Please don’t go…”

Grabbing a throw blanket, you toss it over you both as you curl up into his side and rest your palm on his chest, letting the comforting rhythm of his breathing lull you to sleep.

############

The feeling of lips on your shoulder causes your eyes to flutter open.

You had rolled over in the night and were currently facing Steve’s bland, gray bedroom wall as soft hands roamed your skin. Pretending to still be asleep, you melted into his touch as you pushed your back into his chest. Fingers gently caressed your stomach and up your shirt as his mouth continued to travel towards your neck. 

Quickly moving some of your hair away from your face, Steve kissed your cheek as his palm massaged your breasts briefly before gliding back down to your stomach. You could feel his eyes watching you as you subtly moaned, the bulge in his slacks pressing against your clothed ass. 

You allowed your lower half to grind against him as his groan grumbled low in your ear. Moving one of his arms above your head, you reached up to intertwine your fingers with his as his other hand slipped through the waistband of your pants and under your panties. 

“Daddy.”, you panted as he guided his middle and ring fingers inside of your core. 

Steve didn’t respond verbally, his teeth gently grazing your earlobe as he rolled his hips against you matching the pace of his digits.

“Fuck, yes. Please… Talk to me, baby.”, you beg. 

Again, he doesn’t answer, releasing your hand to wrap his arm around your chest and hold you to him as he moved his fingers so fast between your legs that the sound of your slick filled the room. 

Your body trembles against his as the dam breaks and your nails dig into his skin as you cum. 

Rolling over on to your back, your eyes try to find his but he hastily diverts them as he focuses on pulling down your pants. Gripping his chin, you force him to look at you. 

“Talk to me, baby.”, you repeat. 

“Why are you here?”

His question genuinely threw you off as you scanned his face searching for a reason. 

“You asked me to. You said you didn’t want to be alone.”

“Yeah but WHY are you here, Y/N? You left me, you have a boyfriend, you think I’m a bad person yet you’re here.”

“I thought you wanted to be with me. That’s why you said what you said a few weeks ago. Why do you care? I’m just the girl you fuck to feel better right? RIGHT?!”

“THAT’S RIGHT!”, Steve shouts but even he realizes he sounds insincere. “You should go home.”

“What if I don’t want to go home.”

“I wasn’t asking. Get your shit and get out of my house.”

“No.”

Angrily, he rolled out of bed and grabbed your ankle, tugging you to the edge of the bed. Before he could take hold of your arm to lift you, you smacked his cheek blind siding him as you ran out of the bedroom and towards a guest room with the intent of shutting him out. 

Steve was much faster than you, wrapping his arm around your waist and lifting you off your feet as he carried you down the hall towards the stairs. 

“Why do you do this, Steve?! Why do you push me away?!”

“Because, little girl, like you said, I’m toxic. I’m just like my father and I’m sorry to say, honey, you aren’t at the level of my mother. You’re the side piece trash my dad throws out when he’s done.”

As soon as he reaches the bottom step, you take hold of the banister and manage to wiggle out of his hold, running towards the kitchen to allow for the barrier of the island between you two. 

“Said the man who has a picture of me in his nightstand. It seemed pretty worn too, Harrington. How long have you had it? How many times have you taken it out to look at over the years?”

“I look at it when I need a reminder of how low I sunk when it came to women back then. Thankfully I do much better now.”

“Oh yeah? Like Barbie? Wait, I mean Tiffany…Erica?”, you snicker sarcastically. “Couldn’t even bother to remember her name. Do you remember any of their names? Hell, was I the longest ‘relationship’ you had?!”

He lunges to the side but you duck out of the way just in time as you move around the island. 

“Oh shit, Steven. I was wasn’t I? Even in school you had all these women at your side but they were never yours. Why is that? Because if you had been in a real relationship, I never would have continued whatever the fuck we had. Didn’t have the balls to?”

You watch his face with immense satisfaction as his eyes get darker, filling with even more fury. 

“And that’s what pisses you off the most, huh? You say I’m the side piece but the fact of the matter is you are… and that scares you. I could throw you away just like your dad did to his whores… just like he does with you… Yet instead of standing up for yourself and claiming me; proving to me you can be a good man; you act like a child. You couldn’t even tell your daddy to fuck off which is why you went to the bar to get wasted.”

Shaking your head, you size him up and down with your eyes in disgust. 

“You’re not my Daddy, little boy.”

The calmness that washed over his face frighted you a bit, signaling to you that you needed to tread carefully. You had only ever seen him this way once before back in high school…the first time.

“Steve?”

“Jesus fucking Christ. What the fuck do you want?!”, the boy growls from his place on the bleachers in the now empty gymnasium.

“I don’t mean to bother you. I don’t know if you remember me but we have a couple of classes together—”

“Wonderful. Go away.”

His gruff tone shakes you a bit but you were determined to say what you wanted to say. 

“Ok. I, um, I just wanted to tell you that I heard what your parents…your dad… said and I just wanted you to know that…he’s wrong. I think you did amazing out there tonight. Honestly, I think you do awesome every game but…”

The jock’s angry yes shoot up to look at you as he scans you over. 

“Yeah. Thanks…”

“Y/N. No problem. I’ll, uh, I’ll leave you be now.”

Reaching out abruptly, his hand grips your wrist and yanks you in one motion on to his lap so you were straddling his waist facing him. You should have gasped and hit him, called him a pervert or asshole, and immediately got away from him but the way he was looking up at you with those heart broken eyes… 

“You’re a very nice pretty girl, aren’t you?” You blushed at his calm, seductive tone as your hands balanced yourself on his shoulders. “Can I return the favor?”

He fucked you right there on the bleachers not caring if any one saw either of you or if you were embarrassed by someone walking in and catching you two. Steve used you till he was spent and he wasn’t gentle by any means. You loved it and he knew it as he smirked up or down at you every time you came. 

He didn’t chase you this time as you left the kitchen and ran down the hall. You didn’t know why until the man rounded a sudden corner and wrapped his palm around your throat. Pushing you backwards, he guided you towards the sofa before taking a seat and hurling your front half over his lap.

You squirmed as he held you down, yelping when his hand came down hard on your behind. 

“It’s been too long since you’ve been punished properly, little girl. Between the disrespect, attitude, and being a little whore, I think it’s time I put you in your place.” You wiggled against his hold but he was firm as one of his arms pressed into your shoulder blades. “Stop moving!”, Steve shouted as his hand came down harder than before. 

“Ow…Steve…”

You yelped as his palm came down again a couple more times. 

“It seems, Y/N, that you keep forgetting who I am but don’t worry. We’ll make sure it sticks this time. If this is the only way to get through to you, so be it.”

“Steve…please…OW!”, you whine when he spanks you again. 

“Don’t act like this isn’t turning you on. I bet if we pull off these panties, you’d be dripping like the little disobedient slut you are.”

After hitting you again, he yanks down your underwear making you groan as he slides his finger through your slick. 

“See? Didn’t I just make you cum? Look how wet you are. I told you before, honey. Pissing each other off is the shit that really gets us going.”

Minutes passed but it felt like hours as he continued to spank you turning you into a sobbing mess. Your ass was extremely sore and marked up enough that you would need to come up with an excuse if Jacob saw them. 

“Steve, please…”, you begged. “How many more?”

“However…many…more…it…takes!”, he shouted near your ear as he hit your behind between each word. “Who am I, Y/N?”

Circling his thumb along your clit, he didn’t allow you a moment to breathe as he built you up and your brain blanked. 

“Answer me, little girl!”

“DADDY! You’re Daddy, Steve.”

“Damn right. I’m not some side piece you throw away. I’m fucking Daddy.”, he growled. “People like you and my parents think I’m nothing but I’m NOT. Women scream my name almost every night. I’m the CEO of a huge firm. I make a ton of fucking money. Why isn’t that enough, huh?!”

As his palm connected with your red, bruised skin, you came drenching his lap with your arousal. His chest rose and fell in heavy breaths as he tried to calm down, Steve’s gaze shifting to you when he heard your small sniffles. 

As carefully as he could, he lifted you up and turned you around till you were sitting properly on his lap with your face in the nook near his shoulder. While you continued to cry, his hands massaged your arms while he tenderly played with your hair. 

“What color are you at right now, honey?”

One of your arms rose to circle around his neck as you softly kissed his skin.

“Green, Daddy.”, you whisper. 

Steve curtly nodded as his eyes remained forward while he continued to pet your head, allowing you time to come back down. 

“Are you ok?”, he asked in a tone you had never heard from him before. He sounded almost…afraid. Lifting your head, your palm reaches for his cheek and turns his face so his eyes can meet yours. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cross a line. I didn’t mean to…hurt you.”

Placing your forehead on his, he sighs as your fingertips run along the slight stubble over his chin and up to his lips. 

“I don’t mind you hurting me.”

“You’re not supposed to lie to me, baby girl, remember?”, he smirks as a breathy laugh escapes his chest. “You like when I’m rough with you in bed. You like pushing me to rile me up just like I do with you to see if you will because I know you’re a fucking brat.”

Steve’s grin grows as you blush, knowing he’s telling the truth. 

“The problem is you and I don’t know where the line is. It always seeped out into our day to day and into my insecurities. That’s what you don’t like. You don’t like me using you and breaking your heart. Just like I don’t like watching you cry. Not like this anyway.”

Lifting you into his arms, he carried you back to his bedroom and into the bathroom where you marveled at his massive clawfoot tub. After getting the bath ready, he holds your hand as he guides you but you pause before you sit. 

“Will you sit with me, Daddy?”

“Yeah, honey, I can do that.”

After waiting patiently for him to disrobe, you allow him to climb in behind you and take a seat as you lean against his chest. His large palms run along your shoulders and down your arms making you sigh as you tilt back to kiss his cheek. 

“You were always enough for me, Steve Harrington.” His eyes meet your own as you continue. “The problem was I was never enough for you.”

“Y/N, I’m moving to New York.” Your eyes widen as move away from him and scan his face for lies. “I was only supposed to be here for this project and then run the company as a whole from over there. I…I never expected to see you again. I…”, he pauses as he tries to collect his thoughts. “I want you to come with me.”

“Steve…I can’t…”

“Yes you can. I feel like we can work on this if we can be together. I know we can learn the line and just keep this in the bedroom without going too far and being toxic.”

“We had so many more problems than you being jealous and screaming things at me.”

“Y/N, I don’t want anyone else. I’m not the same guy I was. I won’t cheat. I won’t hurt you. I’ll claim you… I DO claim you. You’re mine, baby.”

“You just told me an hour ago that I’m just the girl you fuck and I should get the fuck out of your house.”

“I’m not perfect. Truth be told, like you said, I AM afraid of losing you again so I lashed out. I didn’t mean what I said.”

“I don’t believe you.”, you whisper. 

“Then why are you here?”

“You said—”

“No. You’re your own woman with your own free will. You still could have gone home. You still love me and I love you, sweetheart…so fucking much.”

His arms wrapped around you, hugging you to him as you began to disassociate. You did still love him; you always had even after you left but you left for a reason. You stayed away for a reason. If you and he were having this discussion 5 years ago you would know immediately that he was just doing whatever he could to appease you without really hearing you and hurt you again a few weeks later. What killed you was if this was 5 years ago and he said he was moving you would have said yes without thinking. 

Now you were overthinking and fear was taking over. 

What if things just went back to the way they were? He seems sincere but a lot of his behavior has been the same. But he said he wanted to work on that and with me. Steve said he was finally ready to claim me and that he loved me…

But what about Jacob? He’s been such a caring and patient good man. I can’t hurt him like this especially if there’s a chance Steve could hurt me again. 

You should have voiced your concerns to him and talked about it like adults. You should have sat on his couch and heard out his plans for success when it came to your relationship together. You should have listened and expressed everything you needed to but you didn’t.

“You knew what this was…”

Steve’s entire demeanor stiffened as you whispered the words he screamed at you the night before you left. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t quite catch that. Do you have the balls to say it louder?”

Rising to your feet, you grabbed a nearby towel, wincing when it grazed your behind as you wrapped it around your body.

“I said you knew what this was. It’s not my fault you caught feelings.”

He laughed to himself as he climbed out of the tub allowing the water to drench his bathroom as he headed for the bedroom. 

“Keeping going, honey. But really twist the knife and make it hurt. That’s what it will take for what you’re doing to work.” Grabbing your clothes off the floor, he tossed them in your direction as your eyes narrowed. “You’re trying to hurt me, right? To push me away because you’re scared of actually taking that leap and giving me a chance?”

Your glassy eyes shifted away from him as you threw your shirt over your head and pulled on your underwear. 

“Because that’s what I did.” You froze as he continued, slowly moving your way as he spoke. “Why do you think I fucked Lori that night? Y/N, you told me you loved me and it scared the hell out of me. I was a popular, rich, Harrington… I was supposed to become my father. I was supposed to cheat, run a business, and make a ton of money by any means necessary.”

Stopping at your side, his fingers gripped your chin forcing you to turn and look at him. 

“All I wanted to do was run away with you… but I panicked and hurt you instead causing you to run away without me. Y/N, I knew I fucked up when I climbed through your window and you were gone. I lost the one person that actually gave a damn about me and who I genuinely cared about. I’d like another chance and I promise you won’t regret it.”

“I already do.”, you murmured as you buttoned your jeans and began walking down his stairs towards his front door.

“Oh, Y/N?”, he called nonchalantly.

“What, Steven!?”, you shout as you glare up at his still naked frame leaning over the second-floor banister. 

“You forgot your phone.”, he says calmly flashing you the screen that was currently illuminating a picture of you and your boyfriend as his call came through. Panic flowed through your entire body as his thumb moved the green dot. 

“Y/N’s phone, this is Steve Harrington.”

####################

@daysinthephoenix @sophiejayne-illustrations713 @livosssblog

[stevie-petey]

at arm's length

You fixed his hair and made a face in the mirror, just to get him to laugh, and you smiled when it worked. “I think you look handsome.” “Yeah, sure.” Steve pushed you away, though his arm stayed loosely wrapped around your side. He had always somehow done this, holding you at arm’s length with a possessiveness to it.  You would come to learn that the possessiveness never really goes away. Not in the way either of you may wish for it to during nights two years from tonight. 

Summary: you and steve found each other when you were eleven; he's held you at an arm's length ever since, suffocating you

Rating: general, suggestive themes

Warnings: toxic relationship, heavy angst, allusions to sex, some stancy, fem!reader, use of y/n, not proofread so pls be kind

Words: 2.9k

Before you swing in: where did this come from ? no clue ! this is pure angst though, no happy ending, all just heartbreak and a very toxic steve. beware. prepare. have fun !

-

Neither of you know how it started.

You aren’t sure when you allowed the lines to be crossed. Steve isn’t sure when he realized he wanted to cross them. 

One night he had simply wanted to crawl through your window.

And, one night, you let him. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you always whisper against his skin in between highs and desperation. 

“I know,” he always kisses the patch of skin just below your ear before encasing you, silencing you.

You’re not sure if he kisses the patch of skin as a promise or as an apology. For what he’s putting you through, for the ignored glances in school, for the way his body stills when someone says your name when he’s around, for the way you always see it.

Afterwards, Steve never stays long. He picks up his clothes as the quiet in your room overwhelms him. He feels your eyes follow him in the dark as he gets dressed and you remain in your bed, sprawled out wanting, waiting, mourning. 

There’s never any malice or anger in your eyes when you watch him, and sometimes Steve resents you for it. He wishes you’d make it easier for him to leave. 

Instead you always watch him with interest, a slight glint in your eye as if you know more than he does; Steve wants to mold a crease between your brows and turn your mouth down with his fingers so that your face isn’t as angelic and understanding. 

“Drive safe.”

Your whispered words are the final blow to the thin wall of glass Steve hides behind. You wish him a safe journey home every time he drives to your house to climb through your window and take more from you than he deserves. 

He hates it.

He hates you. 

Yet every night Steve crawls through your window.

And every night you let him in. 

– 

No one knows how it started.

Your friendship with Steve Harrington was an oddity within Hawkins. 

One day the two of you sat down together during lunch in the sixth grade, and the entire middle school cafeteria went quiet. Everyone had stared at you and whispered, wondering who you were and why you were sitting with someone above your rank, someone who ran with kids like Tommy Hagan.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you had mumbled to Steve, tugging at your sweater with an insecurity you can only feel when you’re eleven. 

“I know.” Steve hadn't seemed to feel this same sense of insecurity at eleven as he popped a french fry into his mouth with a shrug, uncaring. “But who cares?”

You remember looking down at your food, embarrassed and unsure about it all. You’d been standing at your locker merely minutes ago as you looked around helplessly, lost in the school your mom had promised you’d enjoy this time. 

Then Steve had found you.

He had been on his way to the lunch room, late to meet up with his friends, when he had seen you. He will always remember the way you’d been holding yourself, then. You were drawn in, looking around the empty hallways with a wonder in your eyes, despite your obvious fear, that Steve had never seen before in someone his age. 

Steve couldn’t help himself. 

He had asked if you were lost and the way your eyes widened at his question made something within him stir. He watched as a blush spread across your cheeks, shy and nervous, and Steve knew then and there that he couldn’t ever leave you alone. There was something in your eyes, in the way you had looked at him in that moment with that same wonder that had made Steve stop in the first place. 

Soon enough everyone in Hawkins Middle watched as your friendship unfolded. 

It was innocent enough, almost imperceptible to those who weren’t paying attention, but everyone knew. 

Steve was never outwardly friendly with you following your first day meeting him, although he was inseparable from you in his own ways. He would walk you to your classes and always sat a few seats behind you so that he could keep an eye on you. Everyone saw how his eyes never left you. 

You never asked why Steve wouldn’t include you with the rest of his friends. He never introduced you to them, yet he made you promise that if they ever said anything to you that you’d tell him. You promised him, swore to him that you would, and the promise seemed to calm something within Steve. 

“Why?” You had asked him afterwards, not understanding why it seemed so important to Steve that you’d tell him if his friends were ever mean to you. 

“Because you’re my friend.” He stood by your locker as he waited for you to gather your books. People walked past the two of you, whispering as they always did, but he had learned how to ignore them.

You remember frowning, feeling a pit forming in your stomach at his words. “But they’re your friends, too.”

“No, they’re not.” Steve scoffed at you and shoved his hands into his jean pockets.

“But you’re always with them.”

He looked down at his scuffed sneakers, then. “They follow me around. I don’t mind it that much, my dad says it makes boys look cool.”

“Your dad?”

Steve will never understand why he had told you about his dad that day, but he would come to learn that you always somehow made him weak against the things that darkened his mind; how you were always the one he confessed to.

“Can we go to class now?”

“Sorry,” you grabbed the last of your books and closed your locker. You smiled at Steve, you will always remember how hard you had tried to calm him down, make him comfortable around you, and you will always remember how you had placed your hand on his arm. “Let’s go to class.”

Steve flinched at your touch, and you would come to learn that touches weren’t something he was accustomed to; how it would be because of you that he learned what it feels like to be warmed by someone’s fingertips. 

– 

Steve isn’t sure when he became King Steve. 

He thinks it was sometime during his freshman year of high school when he shot up a few inches during the summer and grew his hair long. 

It had been your idea, growing his hair out, because you knew he liked it when you played with it.

“I look like a douche, Y/N.” Steve groaned when he had looked in your mirror. Sometime between sixth and seventh grade, he had started going to your house after school and on the weekend. He claimed it was because your mom was always nice to him, but deep down you knew it was because he enjoyed having you to himself. 

You fixed his hair and made a face in the mirror, just to get him to laugh, and you smiled when it worked. “I think you look handsome.”

“Yeah, sure.” Steve pushed you away, though his arm stayed loosely wrapped around your side. He had always somehow done this, holding you at arm’s length with a possessiveness to it. 

You would come to learn that the possessiveness never really goes away. Not in the way either of you may wish for it to during nights two years from tonight. 

But two years ago you leaned into the arm that still held onto you and played with the hair that had only grown long because of you. “I mean it, you know.”

Steve’s eyes met yours in the mirror, and he saw the wonder there again, though now that you were both fifteen with a shared history, the wonder was now accompanied by a fondness that Steve couldn’t bear himself to look into for long. He loved your eyes, he loved the way you looked at him, but it always burned. 

Thick silence had started to crawl in between you two, then. 

Steve had grown a few inches and his jawline had sharpened and his skin evened out. One day, before your very eyes, he had stopped looking like the eleven year old boy who found you in the hallway. As you stared at him in the mirror that night, you realized just how beautiful he had become, and somehow, even then, you knew that this beauty would strangle you.

The silence had started to grip your neck, so you cleared your throat and tried to pretend that nothing had changed, even though everything had changed in that moment. “It’s late, your parents will want you home soon.”

“They probably don’t even notice I’m gone right now, Y/N.” The moment had been broken and Steve now felt the same fury that had been building within him ever since he was eight. The anger threatened to spill over, but Steve had come to learn that his anger only scared you, so instead he had tried to find another way to quiet the waves within his mind. “I have a better idea.”

“Is that so?” 

“I spend the night.” Steve winked at you, he knew that you sensed his brewing anger, and he desperately wanted to reassure you that he wouldn’t ruin this.

You froze, as if you knew even then that this would be a shift within your dynamic with him. You called Steve your best friend at this point, and while he never said so out loud, you were his best friend, too. At school, you didn’t have many friends, but Steve had now become surrounded by both boys and girls, all vying for his attention, and though he still never introduced you to them, you knew even then that you were the most important person in his life. 

As your eyes met Steve’s in the mirror once more, for a moment you could see the eleven year old boy again, and he’s the reason you say yes.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you reminded Steve for the tenth time that night as you looked over at your door to make sure it was locked. Your mom would’ve killed you if she had ever found out Steve never left. 

“I know.” Steve crawled into bed next to you and collapsed with a huff. He wrapped his arms around you and you were weak against him.

You’ve always been weak against him.

– 

You’re not sure when you first lost Steve to Nancy Wheeler.

They met when you were all in middle school, and yet somehow she hadn’t caught his eye until you were juniors and she was a sophomore. 

He had dated other girls before, but none had been like Nancy; she was the only one who truly caught his eye. 

You watched as he became infatuated with her. It happened slowly, and then all at once. He stopped walking you to class, stopped sitting a few seats behind you, stopped asking to spend the night. 

Steve still saw the wonder in your eyes, though. He still saw the fondness that burned his skin and ground into his bones. He saw your eyes in Nancy’s, and it infuriated him. He loved the girl, he knew he did, but somehow you were always there.

Even after you stopped asking to see him, to sit in his car and drive, to be his best friend again. 

Somehow, you were always there. You were always there, long after you stopped calling yourself Steve Harrington’s best friend and he stopped feeling the need to miss you. 

Then, one night, when Steve had been on his way to pick Nancy up to go see a movie, he drove past you sitting on a park bench with someone’s arms thrown over your shoulders. He remembers feeling the wind being knocked out of him at the sight, he remembers the possessiveness that clawed so deeply into his chest that he had been afraid for a moment that he was dying. 

He doesn’t remember changing lanes and parking there in front of you.

He doesn’t remember the way your face fell when you saw him.

He doesn’t remember the way the guy who had been wrapped around you stood up, asked who Steve was and why he was bothering you.

All Steve remembers is that he no longer saw the fondness in your eyes when you looked at him. The wonder had been gone. 

“Y/N?” His voice hadn’t sounded like his own. Your name hadn’t left his lips in months; it felt like exhaling after breaking an oath. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you had shaken your head at him, somehow knowing Steve’s feelings before he did. He would come to learn that you had always known his feelings for you, long before he was ever able to figure them out himself. You looked at the guy next to you, your date for the night, and shook your head again. “Not here. Not right now.”

“I know.” But Steve hadn’t known anything. If someone had asked, then, what his name was, all he would’ve been able to answer with was yours. He was yours. “I… I know.”

“I think you should leave, buddy.” The guy you’d been with said, and Steve remembers now that his name had been Jamie. He had been on the soccer team, someone he had once shared a drink with at some stupid party last year. 

Steve cleared his throat and avoided your eyes. You knew too much. You knew too much and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d spoken to you until then. “Have a good night.”

And then he was gone. 

Steve broke up with Nancy a week later. 

You never saw Jamie after that night. 

– 

Neither of you know how it started. 

But you know how it will end.

Steve doesn’t, but you don’t blame him. 

He sneaks in through your window most nights and takes from you what you’ve always been willing to give him; it’s how your relationship has always been, and yet you’d give him everything and more if he asked you to. 

Steve kisses you and holds you at arm’s length and tugs you back in every time. 

You always allow yourself to be pulled in. 

One night Steve crawls through your window and reeks of alcohol. He trips over himself as he enters, his hair a mess, still grown the length you once suggested to him, and his jean jacket hangs loosely from his thin frame.

“Steve?” You rush towards him and help him through your window, holding your breath as you do so.

He leans heavily against you and slurs his words. “‘M here.”

“You’re here.” You confirm for him, setting him gently against your bed. As he stares at your ceiling with blurred eyes from the alcohol, you start removing his jacket and shoes. He’s not going home tonight in this state, you know his dad will only send him back here again anyways. 

“Always here,” he slurs again, rolling his head to the side as he does his best to look at you. He squints, studying your side profile and it takes everything within you to not face him. You busy yourself with his clothes, giving yourself something to distract yourself with. He frowns, even in his drunken state he can read you so well. “Always… here.”

“You are always here,” you untie his shoes and place them against your wall. “It’s late, Steve. Let’s go to bed, okay?”

“No,” he now tries to fight against you. Words float through his mind, in a haze of letters and sentence fragments, and vaguely there’s something there that he knows he has to say. Some grand epiphany in between his sixth and seventh beer tonight. “I wanna–I wanna talk.”

You freeze. 

He sees your discomfort and feels something break within him. He tries desperately to grasp at the words within his mind. “Here. It’s… You’re here.”

“I live here, Steve.” You’re not sure what he’s trying to tell you, but you know that if he keeps talking, he’ll ruin the last remaining line that tethers you to him. “Please, just close your eyes and sleep–”

“You’re always here.” His voice has strength to it now, as if the confession has sobered him up. His eyes are now focused, though his mind is still a haze of everything he hasn’t told you. His movements are still slow, his breath still reeks, and he knows that this isn’t what you deserve. “W-why?”

You close your eyes. 

You’ve always known how this would end. 

“We can talk in the morning.” You try to appease him, now gently crawling over him so that you can lay his drunken state to rest. “How about you just hold me tonight, okay?”

Steve is gone again, now lost in the alcohol he’s consumed once more, and your offer of him being able to hold you is all he can focus on now. Exhaustion washes over him and he wraps his arms around you, distantly he thinks he remembers someone else doing this to you once. The thought makes him hold onto you tighter, though he thinks that this isn’t fair to you. 

Lips close to your ear, he whispers, “We shouldn’t be doin’ this.”

“I know,” you close your eyes again, scared he’ll see the tears within them. 

Neither of you know how it started.

The undoing of whatever you had started long before either one of you truly knew what it was.

One day you were both eleven and Steve had been drawn towards the naivety within you that he never had himself.

Tonight, you’re both seventeen and the naivety is gone, and as the alcohol burns through Steve’s system, he knows it’s because of him. 

You’ve always known how this would end.

Steve has only realized it tonight.

-

⌑ writing masterlist

[solarmorrigan]

(Slight disclaimer: I haven't seen S2 in almost a year and parts of it are hazy, so if some details here seem repetitive/don't quite match up... don't worry about it, I love you <3)

cw: anxiety, mentions of past child abuse

-

Steve had not, for the record, wanted to spend his Saturday tromping around by the stream in the woods searching for tadpoles. He’d wanted to go to the movies, or maybe get lunch, or even just hang out, but Dustin had insisted, and now Steve is slopping through the muddy grass and trying to figure out if there’s any way he can get them home without getting the inside of his car filthy.

(Probably not.)

It’s not that he’s opposed to getting his hands dirty when he needs to, it’s just that hunting for baby frogs doesn’t seem like a need to Steve, no matter what Dustin says. He probably shouldn’t be such a pushover for the kid, but– Steve’s actually a little worried about him.

He’s been in a nasty mood for the last couple of weeks, alternating between snappish and sullen, throwing biting comments at Steve that go beyond his usual know-it-all lilt, or else going silent and only shrugging when Steve tries to ask him questions.

And Steve’s trying not to take it personally; they’d hung out a lot through the winter and on into the new spring, and he knows Dustin isn’t normally like this, and he doesn’t think it’s anything he’s done (Dustin keeps seeking him out, so it’s probably not him), but it’s definitely something. So when Dustin had actually suggested something for them to do, had actually seemed excited about it, Steve had been hard pressed to say no.

Even if it meant mud.

“Hey,” Steve calls as Dustin pulls ahead of him to start climbing down the embankment that pens in the stream. “Watch it, alright? It’s slippery.”

“I know what I’m doing, Steve,” Dustin snaps, and Steve can practically hear him rolling his eyes.

“Fine, sorry for giving a shit if you break your leg or something,” Steve mutters, beginning the precarious trip down the embankment himself. “You don’t have to bite my head off.”

Dustin sighs. “Whatever.”

Steve shakes his head. He really hopes this isn’t just the start of puberty, or something. He doesn’t think he can handle another four or five years of this attitude.

(He doesn’t even question it anymore, the assumption that he’ll be around as Dustin continues growing up; it just seems like kind of a given.)

“So what are we doing here, again?” Steve asks when they reach the stream.

“I told you: we’re looking for tadpoles.” Dustin tosses a glance at Steve. “Baby frogs.”

“Yeah, dude, I know what a tadpole is, I did actually pass second grade science,” Steve snarks back. “Why are we looking for them, though?”

“I need them for school. For a science project,” Dustin says, peeling off to start looking in the shallow edges of the stream.

“Right…” Steve moves off in the opposite direction, looking for the shape of a thing he remembers seeing in a science textbook probably too many years ago.

They search in silence for a little bit, nothing but the sound of the woods and babble of water between them, but Steve keeps half his attention on Dustin even as he looks. If the kid falls in the stream and drowns, Claudia will never forgive him. He twitches a little when he watches Dustin skid over a rocky patch on the bank, but he finds his footing quickly enough, so Steve keeps his mouth shut.

“You’re not gonna, like, experiment on these things, are you?” Steve asks idly, finally tiring of the silence.

“Of course not!” Dustin exclaims. “I’m just gonna study ‘em. I’ll give them a good home and everything!”

“Alright, alright.” Steve holds up his hands in surrender. “Just checking that it’s not going to end up like the last time you brought in something weird from outside.”

Dustin stops walking, going quiet for a long moment, and when he turns around Steve is startled to see that he looks pissed.

“I’m not actually an idiot, Steve!” he barks. “I can tell the difference between a frog and some kind of alien monster!”

“Okay, sorry, I didn’t–”

“It’s not like I saw D’art and thought he was anything from around here!” Dustin goes on, stalking back towards Steve. “I didn’t think he was just some kind of fucked up frog! I knew he was something different, there was scientific merit in wanting to study him, and I’m sick of everyone acting like it was just some stupid mistake!”

“I didn’t mean to– Careful!”

Steve has no time to do much more than shout a warning and throw out a useless hand as Dustin goes skidding back over the slick, rocky patch, then slips and goes down hard, catching himself on his hands and one knee.

“Shit, Henderson, are you okay?” Steve is kneeling in front of Dustin in a blink, already searching for visible injuries; he’s probably fine, it hadn’t looked like he’d hit anything vital on the way down, but it couldn’t hurt to just check.

Dustin doesn’t move, his head still hanging between his shoulders, his back so tense he’s almost trembling, and worry starts to bloom in the pit of Steve’s stomach.

“Henderson?” Steve tries again, and that’s when he hears it – the sniffle.

Shit.

“Hey. Dustin,” Steve says, slipping into the same calm, firm register he uses when he’s lifeguarding, without even realizing he’s done it (honestly, he’d had to deal with a lot more kids with scraped knees than he had potential drowning victims when he’d worked at the public pool); he cups his hand over the back of Dustin’s neck, squeezing gently to get his attention. “I need you to let me see. I need to make sure you’re alright.”

Slowly, Dustin shifts so that he’s sitting with both knees bent in front of him, though he keeps his head bent down – and that’s fine, Steve won’t make him look up just yet. Instead, he does a quick inspection of everything else; both of Dustin’s palms are a little scraped up, and one is bleeding a bit, but it’s his knee that got the worst of it. It looks like it caught and scraped on the sharp edge of a rock, leaving a bleeding strip of skin that curves across the surface of it.

(It probably wouldn’t have been so bad if Dustin hadn’t insisted on wearing shorts in March, but whatever. Now really isn’t the time to argue about practical fashion.)

“Okay, this looks like a pretty shallow scrape. I bet it stings like hell, but it’ll be a million times better once we get it cleaned up,” Steve says, framing the wound with gentle fingers, careful to avoid the drip of blood streaming down Dustin’s shin.

Still, Dustin says nothing. He’s practically trembling now, sniffling again, and Steve frowns.

“Did you hurt yourself anywhere else?” he asks.

Dustin shakes his head.

“Are you sure? Did you hit your head when you went down? You should let me–”

“I’m not hurt, Steve, Jesus fucking Christ!” Dustin snaps, finally looking up; his cheeks are red and his eyes are watery and he’s clearly trying hard to hold everything in, so Steve does his best not to rock the boat too hard.

“Okay,” he says, low and smooth, still stuck halfway in crisis management mode, “then can you tell me what’s wrong?”

“Everything!” Dustin chokes. “Fucking everything is wrong, okay? I keep – I keep having nightmares and I feel like I haven’t slept in weeks and I’m so tired.” He loses the fight with his tears and they finally spill over, running down his face. “And my mom was talking about Mews the other day, like, just stuff he used to do, and she misses him even though we have Tews, and sometimes I feel like I killed the stupid cat, and I just–”

“Shit, dude, I’m sorry.” Steve reaches up and cups his hand right at the juncture of Dustin’s shoulder and neck, giving him another gentle squeeze. “You didn’t kill your cat, okay?”

Dustin gives a congested snort that’s distinctly lacking in his usual derision. “Yeah, I know that about the same as I know there’s nothing coming to get me at night, but I still can’t sleep.” He sniffs again, reaching up and trying to smear his tears away with the back of his hand. “I’m so done with this, I just– I want it to be over. It’s supposed to be over.”

There’s a little tremor in Dustin’s voice, and Steve’s heart breaks a little bit, because he knows exactly what Dustin means – he knows what the nightmares are like, he knows the guilt over things you can’t change, he knows the feeling of jumping at shadows. And fuck, the kid’s still so young.

(Never mind that Steve’s not even scraping nineteen yet. Never mind that.)

He should probably talk to an actual professional, or something—get some real help—but Steve isn’t sure there’s anyone out there that Dustin can talk to about government coverups and literal monsters from a hell dimension beneath their town. He’s not sure if there’s anyone even qualified. And while Steve sure as hell doesn’t feel qualified to do anything, either, he’d been there with Dustin when it happened, and he’s here with Dustin now, so he’s going to do his best.

“Okay, c’mere,” Steve says, giving one of Dustin’s arms a tug.

Dustin doesn’t argue, doesn’t even question him, and that’s almost more alarming than anything else; he follows Steve a few feet over to a grassy patch at the foot of the embankment and leans heavily into Steve’s side when they sit down again. The grass is a little wet, but Steve doesn’t even feel it as he wraps an arm around Dustin’s back and pulls him closer.

They spend a minute with Dustin’s face half buried in Steve’s shoulder before Dustin gives a muffled grunt of annoyance and tries to pull away. “This is bullshit,” he mutters.

Steve quashes the way he wants to flinch at the declaration and looks down at Dustin instead. “What?”

“Sitting here crying my ass off. It’s stupid. I’m being a baby,” Dustin says, trying to wipe his face clean even as more tears replace the ones he’s just dried away.

“It’s not stupid. Crying is normal,” Steve says.

Dustin scoffs, still trying to pull out of Steve’s hold, but Steve keeps a hand in the middle of his back, unwilling to let him go far.

“I’m serious,” Steve insists. “It’s, like, a normal body reaction, or something. It happens. People cry.”

“You don’t,” Dustin shoots back, and Steve can’t help the instinctive huff of this-isn’t-actually-funny-at-all laughter.

“Yeah, man, because I’m kinda fucked up.”

It’s clearly not the reaction Dustin is expecting, and he stares up at Steve with furrowed brows. “What?”

And– well, fair’s fair, isn’t it? Dustin told Steve what’s bothering him, so Steve can open up a little bit in return, can’t he?

Besides, he can’t really think of any other way to convince Dustin that he’s not just pulling some cool, tough guy shit.

No, he doesn’t stop to cry, but it’s hardly even a choice anymore.

“I used to cry really easily, actually,” Steve says, looking away from Dustin and staring out at the stream instead. “Like, over everything. Literally cried over a glass of milk I spilled once.”

Dustin gives a wet huff of laughter, and Steve allows himself the tug of a quick smile.

“My dad fucking hated it. He was always telling me to stop whining, stop crying, stop acting like–” –a little bitch, Steven. Alright, maybe Dustin didn’t need to hear everything his dad had said to him. “He said I needed to toughen up, be a man. The last time I really cried, I was, like, nine, I think? I don’t even remember what it was over, I just remember that it pissed my dad off. And he said he’d give me something to cry about, and, uh–”

Steve can feel Dustin going tense under his palm, as if he’s afraid of what comes next, and that’s fine. Steve has no problem stopping there; it’s not a story he’d relish retelling in its entirety.

“Anyway, after that, I just kinda… made myself stop. Just like he wanted. And honestly?” Steve blows out a breath, still staring hard at the stream. “It just makes everything worse, holding that shit in. Makes you feel like shit.”

Makes you want to make other people feel like shit, too, because at least it’s an outlet.

“So, whatever. ‘Be a man.’ That’s bullshit.” Steve has known for years that his dad is an asshole, that the things he says are shit, and maybe he’s never known what to do in the face of it, maybe he’s never reacted in a way that’s healthy or even safe, but that doesn’t mean he has to spread the disease around. “Don’t be like me, man, be like you. Cry if you have to.”

Slowly, Dustin wilts back into Steve’s side, curling up under his arm and burying his face half in Steve’s shoulder again.

“You’re actually really smart sometimes,” Dustin mumbles against Steve’s shirt, and Steve snorts.

“Yeah, once in a while I might have some shit worth listening to.”

Dustin’s shoulders start shaking again, so Steve slings his arm more tightly around his back, and Dustin wraps an arm around his middle and clutches at Steve’s sweatshirt. At this point, it’s probably beyond stained with mud and snot and the blood from Dustin’s palms, but Steve can’t really bring himself to care. It’s not like it’s his favorite.

It isn’t the most comfortable place for a breakdown; March in Indiana is still chilly, and the grass is still damp, and the ground is hard, and Dustin’s cap keeps jabbing Steve in the collarbone, but Steve isn’t going to move until Dustin is ready. So they stay a while.

(Steve does end up knocking Dustin’s cap off, because it really is annoying, but he can’t help the little trill of fondness that goes through his chest when he realizes that he can faintly smell the shampoo he’d recommended to him.)

Finally, Dustin pulls away with a heavy sigh, snatching his hat back up and placing it firmly on his head, and Steve takes that to mean that it’s time to go.

“Alright, I’ve got a first aid kit in the car, and I think we can at least tape you together long enough to get back to my house,” Steve says, heaving himself up off the ground.

“We didn’t find any tadpoles, though,” Dustin says, looking back at the stream. “I seriously do need some for my project.”

“We can come back tomorrow,” Steve says, even though he really doesn’t want to spend his Sunday tromping around by the stream in the woods searching for tadpoles.

“Yeah?” Dustin aims a hopeful little smile up at him. “Can I stay over?”

Steve shrugs. “If your mom says it’s fine, yeah.”

(They both know she will.)

“Awesome.” Dustin grins, but it’s a pale shadow of its usual intensity; the kid looks wrung out.

Steve glances up the embankment and then looks back at Dustin.

“Hey,” he says. “You want a lift?”

Dustin, who had been preparing to start the climb back up, looks over at him in confusion. “What?”

“Up the hill.” Steve jerks his head towards the incline.

“How?”

“Piggyback ride. One-time offer.”

“Dude, it’s steep as shit. And I just had a growth spurt,” Dustin scoffs. “There’s no way you can carry me up that thing.”

Steve smirks. “Wanna bet?”

“What do I win?” Dustin asks.

“You get to pick the movie when we get back to my house,” Steve offers.

Dustin chews it over for a moment, then nods. “Deal.”

“Deal.” Steve kneels down. “Hop on. And try not to choke me.”

When Steve stands up again, Dustin settled against his back, he realizes he may have slightly overestimated his own abilities; light, Dustin is not (the kid’s almost fourteen now, Jesus H. Christ), but Steve isn’t one to back down from a challenge.

He starts up the embankment.

“When I win, after you drop us both back down the hill,” Dustin says, “I’m gonna pick Ghostbusters.”

Steve groans. They’ve watched that movie a hundred times now, and he has his limits. “When we get to the top, and I win, I’m going to pick anything but Ghostbusters.”

“Dream on, Steve,” Dustin pats his chest, and Steve keeps climbing.

They’re about halfway up when Dustin laughs in his ear, clutching more tightly around Steve’s neck as the incline gets steeper. “Holy shit, you’re actually doing it!”

“Told you,” Steve says, proudly sounding only a little strained.

He does have to drop Dustin’s legs and use his hands to make sure he doesn’t lose his balance when they get near the top, which does result in Dustin choking him, but Steve gets his revenge by wiping the excess mud on his palms off on the front of Dustin’s shorts once they get over the edge of the embankment.

(“Dude, what the hell!”

“You were already muddy!”)

Still, Dustin laughs and chatters all the way back to the car, still a little more quietly than usual, but Steve doesn’t think he’s seen him smile this much in weeks, so the strain he can already feel setting up in his legs and back is probably worth it.

And they will not be watching Ghostbusters (again) when they get back to his house, but maybe he’ll pick one of the Star Wars movies instead.

He can’t fix everything for Dustin, but he can at least make sure they have a good night – and sometimes, that’s good enough.

[Prompt: Piggyback rides]

[bvtbxtch]

Stephen | Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

“You’re my object of affection, my drug of choice, my sick obsession.”

Summary: 5 years since graduation, 5 years since you ran your way through Hawkins High, leaving boys in your wake…. Except one. Steve Harrington, apparent untouchable due to his infatuation with Nancy Wheeler. What happens when you see a worn out, former heartthrob with his fizzled high school flame stuck to him? Unhappy, feeling unloved and in a bind, you thought Steve could be the conquest of the night… or so you thought.

Pairings: King!Steve (Kinda) x Toxic!Fem!Reader

Content warnings: smut, angst, fluff. Non canon au. Steve and Nancy are together from Steve’s senior year to the time of the story. Cheating (emotional and sexual), p in v sex, oral (m and f receiving), Reader defs isn’t a girls girl but I couldn’t help it, alcohol consumption, one night stands, stealing, public sex. This is definitely 18+ MDNI!!!!!

WC:

A/N: Hi babies I have returned with something a little bit different from my little hiatus and am super excited to try something new! This fic is inspired by the song Stephen by Ke$sha! I hope you like it!! I love you all!

The pounding in your head mirrored that in your heart as you remembered the burn of alcohol down your throat from last night. Your makeup had been smudged off onto your pillow, some still remaining on your swollen, hungover face. The day after drinking anxiety had reared its head, but a wave of nerves hit you like a ton of bricks when a vision of you writing your phone number on Steve Harrington’s arm - more or less in front of his girlfriend - faded into view. 

You cupped your hands over your face and your shoulders shook. You couldn’t help but giggle at the picture of her porcelain face twisted into a bout of jealous rage. You could fully admit to yourself that you lived on the side of delusion, but there was a piece of you that wholeheartedly believed that your former king of Hawkins High would call you. 

And yet, you sat and stared at the phone perched silently on your nightstand while you nursed your hangover all day. The bright afternoon light evolved into an evening glow and still you hadn’t heard the shrill ring. You put on records and VCRs. You flicked through magazines and tried to pick up the new Danielle Steele book you had pocketed from the bookstore on main street. But the soundtrack of your thoughts was the hope that the telephone would ring and that you would hear a smooth baritone voice calling you. You fought to keep your eyes open while the blue light of your TV laughed back at you. You finally surrendered to the sleep your body had been pleading for, the blur of the night previous finally making itself clear in your dreams…

-

The music at the dive bar had been blaring. You were on your upteenth drink courtesy of Eddie Munson. The first time you had come to the Hideout it was your senior year, freshly 18 and ready for an adventure. You had snuck in with a fake ID and eyed up the curly haired 21 year old behind the bar. His eyes had been glued on you since you had walked in. Well, you worked your charm and lo and behold, Eddie had you bent over the chipped porcelain sink in the staff bathroom. After the orgasm you gave him, he knew he would owe you for a while - and free drinks you received ever since. You flashed him a wink as you downed the third tequila shot of the night. Your plump glossed lips twisted into a smile after looking at the winces of Heather and Chrissy. The three of you had moved a half an hour outside of Hawkins to the bigg(er) city of Indianapolis, but you felt the need to parade your luxurious city life to the hasbeen jocks of Hawkins High that frequent the only legit bar in town. You couldn't count on both hands the number of guys you had toyed with that now loitered around the musty pool tables and bar tops. By the time you graduated and got a job, you thought of yourself as a big fish in a small pond. You were ready to break big city hearts and leave the lame Hawkins lifers behind. That couldn’t be you. But there was always one that got away - one that you hated to admit was one guy that scared you, solely because you would let him domesticate you if he asked. 

The girls beside you let out a small woo as another shot was sent your way, this time courtesy of Jason Carver who had fastened himself a seat on the other side of the bar with yet another Hawkins Hasbeen, Andy Robinson. You raised the small glass to your lips with a devilish smile across the bar. Jason still had his abs like he did when you graduated. Owning the small weightlifting gym on the outskirts of town had its perks, you guess. You looked at Chrissy and rolled your eyes with a snicker as the burning liquid slid down your throat. At least if you didn’t get lucky with someone else tonight, he would be there and more than willing to give you a half assed orgasm in the back seat of his beat up jeep cherokee - better than ending the night alone in your books (and probably his). You scrunched your eyes closed and a flash of stars lit up the darkness behind your eyes. You opened them to blurry vision, the feelings in your fingers were being replaced with warm fuzz. You knew that if you were to get off your barstool your knees would raise hell. You let out a euphoric giggle. This is just what you needed.

You heard a small “well, well, well,” slur out of Heather’s bowed lips as two new figures emerged through the metallic doors of the bar. “Surprised to see Harrington out here. Isn’t his past his bedtime? You know I remember…” Heather’s voice faded away as you honed in your focus to the pair at the door.

Nancy Wheeler - her obnoxious perm and housewife dresses… You couldn’t help but hate her. She was everything you weren’t: safe, boring, square. Her manicured hand rested in a much larger hand, and that hand was attached to toned arms in a light cotton crewneck. You couldn’t help but feel the saliva pool in your mouth. Nancy looked up to her beautiful brunette with her stupid doe eyes and he flashed her a small cautious smile. They stuck out like sore thumbs. She didn’t belong here, but Steve Harrington was too good looking to be in this shitty bar. It’s like your friends could read your mind. Chrissy pinched you in the side and Heather let out a childish giggle.

“Don’t even think about it, Y/L/N. Nancy’s had him on lock since, like, junior year.” You were well aware. 

“Don’t even worry about it. I’ll be smart…” You challenged. Your friends were very aware of your determination. If you wanted something, you got it. And Steve Harrington was on the menu. You watched the handsome couple stalk to one of the tall bar tables across the room from your seats. Steve’s eyes locked with yours and you licked your lips. No matter how hard he tried, like a magnet, your gaze kept him locked on you. The man felt a tug on his arm as Nancy shuffled him to the table. As their conversation lulled on, you couldn’t help but attract Steve’s eyes again. You waved your arm to Eddie for another shot.

“I think it’s time to have some water, doll” the mophead behind cooed. For the first time tonight you ruffled through your purse to find a folded 20 dollar bill. You placed it in the hem of your bustier and flashed your sultry eyes at Eddie.

“You want a tip or not, Munson? I think I have already shown you how much I appreciate your customer service.” The man’s cheeks grew flushed as he grabbed the bill out of your chest with nimble fingers - hoping that his hands didn’t slip. Another tiny glass full of liquid in front of you. Before you put it to your mouth, you raised your eyes to Steve, his mouth slightly agape, having seen the performance you had just put on at the bar. You raised the shot glass to him in salute, he blushed and turned his eyes back to his girlfriend. God, his fucking girlfriend. 

He watched your neck tilt back as the burning liquid slid down your throat. He had to stifle a small chuckle at your scrunched face at the reaction to your shot. Steve always thought you were effortlessly beautiful. But you were dangerous. A junior when he was a senior, he knew about the boys you had left in your wake. He made sure to stay away, betrothed to the girl sitting across from him at the bar. He sighed a choked breath of relief when Nancy coldly told him she was going to the bathroom then to get them some drinks. He let his shoulders shrug and rearranged his pants, which were a bit tighter than when he walked in. He wasn’t left in his silence for long. His shoulders shifted back up to his ears and his cheeks grew hot when he saw you saunter from the bar in his direction. His heart was in his throat and beating harder than ever. What the fuck was happening to him?

Your moment to strike happened when you saw Nancy’s pleated dress slither out of her barstool and towards the bathroom. You mirrored her and pushed your wobbling legs one in front of the other. You carried two glasses of brown liquor with you. Your face was calm and cool, but your hands were shaking as you crossed the dingy hardwood over to a beautiful head of hair. 

“So, what is King Steve doing in a place like this?” You didn’t dare take Nancy Wheeler’s spot. You wouldn’t want to be compared to the likes. You leaned your torso over the table, edging closer to the man than you would be on a stool. You preferred it that way, and you had a sense that Steve does as well.

“I could ask the same thing to you, Y/N.” He mumbled, but you can tell his confidence was growing.  “What’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?”

“Who told you I’m a nice girl?” You purred. “You looked thirsty over here, and I thought, since you’re in my domain, I could show you some hospitality.” You slid the drink over to him with a black painted fingernail and picked yours up and stirred it suggestively. 

“Bottoms up then.” Steve grabbed the glass and clinked it to yours. Your heart stopped as you watched the beautiful man’s neck strain upwards to take his drink in one gulp. It took all of the drunken strength you could muster to not sink your teeth into his strong neck. His Adams apple bobbed in strain and the liquor made his cheeks bloom a darker red than they already were. You sipped half of your drink, desperate to relieve some of the tension running through your body, but you felt like you would completely crumble if you downed it all in one go.

“So.. you and Nancy… That’s pretty… serious?” You couldn’t help the venom that seethed out of your lips. Steve cleared his throat and stared into the bottom of his empty glass. He shrugged his shoulders. You couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Trouble in paradise, King Steve?” you jest. 

“Nah, It’s just… it's been a few years I guess.” Steve’s voice was cold. You sighed audibly. The alcohol and the pure lust was getting to you, and you could barely contain yourself.

“Too bad… the word on the street is I could treat you much better.” You could barely bring yourself to look into his eyes, but when you did, you were met with an intense stare. You couldn’t read all of the emotions behind his eyes, but it made your core quiver. 

“Word on the street is you know how to treat a lot of people.” Steve scoffed. His defenses were up. Why in the world were you coming to him now? He had always stolen looks at you. He knew how magnetic you were. He wished he knew you in high school. Maybe then he wouldn’t be stuck working at his dad’s law firm. With a girlfriend who he felt stuck with; no sense of adventure, no true love in sight. But then you sauntered up to him and made his heart believe in life again.

“Well you aren’t wrong. But I only have eyes for one right now.” You winked. 

“Wish we could have had this conversation three years ago…” Steve whispered, hoping that you didn’t hear him. You were delectable, and laid out in front of him; and he knows that if he were to have a few more drinks, he would have forgotten all about the girl that he had come here with - his… girlfriend. Fuck, his girlfriend. You flashed him a pout and a disappointed smile. You had him eating right out of your hand. 

“Well… Let me give you this.” You pulled out a sharpie from your purse and pulled his wrist towards you, pulling up his sweater sleeve. You began to scribble your phone number onto his olive skin. You had to breathe slowly to keep yourself from shaking. “Call me tomorrow if you want to pretend it was three years ago.” A look of need flashed on your face. You had been absorbed by Steve Harrington. It had felt like all of the bar had disappeared and it was just the two of you. Steve could feel that too, he had you right where he wanted you, totally absorbed and infatuated. You couldn’t help but think of Nancy and it made you shiver. You couldn’t have her invade this. Fuck his stupid girlfriend. You were determined to make Steve Harrington yours. 

The two of you stayed transfixed on each other for a moment more. Steve fixed his gaze between your face and the new ink that you had given him. He wanted to nurture it like it was a real tattoo. You couldn’t help but take mental pictures of Steve’s face, so you could imagine whatever meathead you ended up taking home that night was him. You wondered what he would look like underneath you, gasping and panting for breath. What his skin would taste like: sweaty and sweet and musky. You wished that you could take his fingers and put them in your mouth right now. You were thirsty, parched for his lips on yours. You wanted to show him what you looked like underneath him, you wanted him to hear you moan his name. You wanted to fuck his brains out, the way you knew Nancy “White Bread” Wheeler doesn’t. You were connected, and it scared you because for the first time in forever, you wanted to fuck, but you also wanted him to hold you, to tell you that you’re beautiful. You wanted him to hold your hand and buy you flowers and take you out. You wanted to cook for him and play with his hair and rub his back. 

You were torn from your world when you heard a small ‘ahem’ from behind you. Steve quickly adjusted his posture and pulled his sweater sleeve over his new love mark. You stood up straight and turned to see the frizzy haired brunette tapping her pleather pumps at you… tacky, you thought. 

“Can I help you with something?” She peeped. “Or is there another reason why you’re over here talking to my boyfriend?” Nancy’s angry eyes flicked between the two of you and her brow was furrowed. Your gaze had hardened and you couldn’t help but chuckle; she looked like a toddler and an old woman at the same time. Steve’s cheeks remained a rosy pink. He had found whatever was on the floor oddly interesting. You took a step towards the girl.

“Nothing at all, darling. Just thought I would say hello to an old friend and grab him a drink.” You breezed past her, knocking her lightly on the shoulder. 

“See you around, Harrington.” You sang behind you. You couldn’t see her anymore, but you assumed that if looks could kill, you would be on the floor. You strutted back to Chrissy and Heather and slumped back to your stool. You exchanged mischievous glances with the girls, and then turned proudly to Eddie, who was flashing you a disappointed look. A victory for you, a loss for Nancy Wheeler - or at least you hoped.

Steve continued to stare at the ground while Nancy eyed him suspiciously. 

“What the hell did she want, Steve?” she pried. Steve huffed before looking up at her. Her eyes didn’t glimmer at him like yours did. 

“She just came over to say hi…. I hadn’t seen her since Senior year.” 

“Did you even talk to her senior year? You know the reputation she has…I don’t like her, and I don’t like her talking to you, Steve,” within the past year, he had thought of Nancy more like his mother than his girlfriend. He had been growing more and more confused lately. The love seemed to be lacking and he had caught himself wondering what his life would be like if he left it all behind, left her behind and started over. You made the idea of abandonment way more appealing. He felt himself growing unreasonably angry with the blue eyed girl sitting across the bar from her. He needed to defend you. You were the only thing on his mind.

“Who the hell cares, Nancy? What do you think that she was going to do? Fucking make out with me in front of everyone? She asked how we were doing. She asked about you and me. Chill out and have fun or let’s just get out of here.” He scowled. Nancy was taken aback and slid a chilled PBR across the table to Steve with a scoff. She drank her vodka cran in silence. Steve couldn’t help but let his eyes wander to your figure laughing and smiling with your friends. He wanted to laugh with you. He downed his drink, took Nancy's hand silently and pulled her towards the door. She had a permanent frown on her face as Steve pushed her through the door. Before his body disappeared from the door, he took one more glimpse at you. Your eyes locked one last time and you sent him a wave as he disappeared into the Hawkins night. If he couldn’t have you, he’d fuck Nancy until he forgot about you. 

It was 3 am and your body literally couldn’t peel itself off of the plastic bar stool. Chrissy and Heather had gone home with Jason and Andy - your appetite spoiled when you watched the only person you wanted to be with leave the bar without you. You heard the stomps of old reeboks and the jingle of keys come up behind you. The lights had suddenly gone out.

“Come on, doll. Let’s get you home okay?” Eddie pulled you off the stool and wrapped your arm around his shoulder. 

“Can you stay over, Teddie?”

“Not this time, honey. You need sleep and you need water. You aren’t thinking straight.”

You pouted quietly, but you decided to finally take no for an answer. The thought of sinking into your bed and hoping - praying - that Steve would call you.

Steve had pulled Nancy into his bedroom of his parents’ empty house. He feverishly pulled at Nancy’s belt as she fumbled with the zipper at the side of her dress. Steve’s mouth didn’t leave her skin, and his eyes remained shut, save to navigate himself around his house. A flurry of clothes, soft sighs and sweaty skin. Steve had only had two drinks, but he felt drunk thinking of your encounter at the bar. He pressed his eyes closed as he mouthed at Nancy’s chest, wishing it was yours. He slid down her torso pondering what sounds you would make if he was kissing towards your sweet center. He pulled Nancy’s panties to the side and swiped his tongue along her heat, thinking about how delicious you would taste. He then flipped Nancy over on all fours and slid into her with a grunt. He couldn’t stand to look at her, wishing her body was yours, wishing her sounds were yours, wanting to hold you in his arms after. Steve finished quickly, his perversions towards you spurring him on. 

The couple collapsed into Steve’s king bed. Nancy traced small circles on his chest while they caught their breath. Steve felt satiated, his hunger for you ebbed, for now. 

“Steve! What’s on your arm?” Nancy yelped. Steve’s heart dropped into his chest. He frantically turned himself away from his girlfriend. Nancy’s small hands grabbed Steve’s shoulder to turn him back to her. Her nails drug down to the tattoo you had given her boyfriend and her face began to heat up.

“What the fuck is this, Steve?”

-

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[estrellami-1]

WAIT also 23 bc it's my favorite number (i couldn't possibly tell you why at this point)

Alrighty! My apologies for the delay. Life’s a bitch, but then again we knew this. 23 is “Bruises” by Lewis Capaldi. Should’ve known Angst City would’ve somehow gotten me to write angst. Fuck you, babe (I love you).

“So, Steve,” Dr. Trang asked, “how long has it been since you’ve seen him?”

He lets out a dry bark of a laugh. “Since I’ve seen him? ‘Bout two hours, I saw his picture in the checkout line at Walmart.” His lip curls. He huffs out a breath, shakes his head. “I can’t get rid of him. And the worst part is I don’t want to. But what am I supposed to do when he up and-” he flings a hand out. His breath catches in his chest. His eyes burn. He shakes his head again. Takes a stuttering breath. “Since I’ve been face-to-face with him? ‘Bout a month, give or take.” He drums his fingers on the brown leather armchair he’s sitting in. Crosses his legs, looks to his right, out the window. It overlooks a park. It’s empty; the middle of winter and a dreary day to boot.

“A month?” She confirms, scribbling something in her notebook. “And how did that happen?”

He grits his teeth. “He fuckin’ called me, whaddya think? I’m a fuckin’ dog and he’s wavin’ a treat in my face and I’m supposed to ignore him?” He scoffs. “Fat chance.”

Dr. Trang doesn’t sigh. She’s too professional for that. “I can only help you if you want to be helped, Steve. Can you honestly say that you want to move on from him?”

Steve thinks. About the beginning of their relationship; how sweet Eddie was, how understanding, how gentle. How, towards the middle, he started to shift; became more demanding, more domineering. Finally, in the end, Robin pulled him out, showed him how it looked from an outside perspective. It was the shift Steve needed to end it, to pack up his things and move in with Robin until he got back on his feet and found an apartment not too far from hers.

He thinks about the terrible, torturous, wonderful things Eddie still manages to make him feel. Fingers scrabbling for purchase in the sheets, toes curling, fucking hair sensitive to the touch, a thousand little pinpricks of feeling wrapped in Eddie’s fist.

He gets lost in it, he knows; lost in the feeling, the emotions that only he is feeling, since every time Eddie kicks him out without remorse. He’s just a hole for Eddie to fuck but god does he know how to make it good.

“I know I shouldn’t,” he sighs. “But I want him. It’s like… everything makes sense when we’re together. Like there’s something in the water that makes me come running back the second he texts.” He shakes his head. “I feel like we were good together, in the beginning. And we could be good together again. I just… don’t know what changed. What about him changed.”

“Sometimes people change for no discernible reason,” Dr. Trang says, really showing off that psychology degree. “Sometimes, because of that change, people grow apart. Sometimes they don’t, but they become wrong for each other.” She nods at Steve. “It’s up to you to figure out what you want to do. If you want to change, if you want to keep seeing him, if you want to stay the same, or if you want to stop seeing him. That’s a question only you can answer. Why don’t you think on that for the week, and come back to me next week with an answer?”

Steve nods. Knows immediately he’ll bullshit an answer the next time he sees her. “Will do,” he lies, shaking her hand and leaving.

His phone buzzes in his pocket.

Eddie: img.2437

Eddie: you have ten minutes.

Steve stares for a minute. Sighs, texts back.

Steve: I’ll be there in seven.