#you know it's bad when steve 'it's not broken just walk it off' harrington has to drag you to the hospital

[lazylittledragon]

mombin pt 7 <33

(1)(2)(3)(4)(5)(6)

[andvys]

I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 6

Warnings: angst, mentions of heartbreak, alcohol consumption

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader , Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler

Summary: Steve finally gets the answer to a question that has been haunting him for days.

Word count: 6k+

A/N: @belokhvostikova remember the ask you sent me about the idea with the denim jacket? I had to include it in this chapter, so thank you hehe &lt;;3

series masterlist

-

Steve’s phone kept ringing all day, since the early morning hours. He doesn’t know if it was her or his mom, he didn’t bother to get up and check. At some point, the doorbell rang twice, he didn’t get up to open it either. He wanted to be left alone. He didn’t want to see anyone except for you. The thought of you just made him cry harder and made him feel more pathetic about himself – he kept reminding himself that it was him who fucked it all up. 

He never felt such self hatred for himself the way he does now. All day, he laid in bed thinking about you and all the things that happened that led him here, getting drunk at a bar he used to hate, wallowing in self pity while he knocks back one drink after the other after throwing his fake ID on the counter.

How will he keep going? 

Steve downs his fourth drink of the night and slides the empty glass over to the bartender, asking for another one. 

The man gives him a look of concern, eying Steve for a moment. 

“Just.. please,” Steve mumbles. 

The bartender sighs, shaking his head, he mumbles something under his breath but still, he picks up the bottle and pours the whiskey into the glass, “you’re getting water after this one, son.” 

“I have water at home,” Steve says. He reaches for the glass and slides it back towards himself. He leans his elbow on the counter and looks around the mostly empty room. Some rock song is playing in the background, one he doesn’t recognize. There’s a heavy cloud of smoke in the corner of the room where two men are sitting, laughing at some jokes that probably aren’t funny as they smoke their cigarettes and drink their beer. 

The door opens and in walks the guy that is probably one of the most irritating people at Hawkins High – to him, at least. Steve bites back a groan when their eyes lock. He turns back around, avoiding eye contact. From the corner of his eye, he sees him walking towards the bar. 

“Hey Tony.” 

Steve lifts his head a little to see the Bartender smiling. 

“Hey Ed, how’s it going?” 

Eddie drums his fingers against the wooden counter, he looks around the room, “good, uh, have you seen my notebook? I’ve been looking for it everywhere but I can’t find it – I even cleaned out my van, can you believe it?” 

Tony chuckles, “was about time you cleaned out that thing, boy.” 

Eddie rolls his eyes, snorting, “yeah, well I’m busy.” 

“With what?” 

Eddie pretends to think as he raises his brows and looks up at the ceiling, “well, working my ass off so I don’t have to repeat senior year again, I recently found a good tutor,” Eddie smirks, “got myself a muse to help me write the song texts,” Eddie wiggles his brows, making the older man laugh, “working on a new campaign. Oh and of course, how could I forget, comforting the broken hearted – you know, just the usual,” he shrugs as his eyes flicker over to Steve for a moment.

“What a busy man you are, Eddie,” Tony chuckles, shaking his head. He throws the towel on the counter, “I’ll take a look in the back.” 

“Thanks man,” Eddie smiles, watching him disappear in the hallways. He turns his head to look at Steve. 

“What is King Steve doing at the Hideout?” 

Steve turns to face him and Eddie raises his brows in surprise, “damn, you look like shit, man.” Eddie says. Taking in the puffy eyes and the dark circles beneath them, he almost feels bad for him. His hair looks messy, not as perfectly done the way it always is. 

“Get lost, freak.” 

“Always the douchebag,” Eddie mumbles, rolling his eyes.

Steve turns away, he raises the glass to his lips and takes a sip, swallowing the bitterness. 

“Are you pre drinking for the dance tomorrow or are you just drowning your sorrows in alcohol because you finally realized what a piece of shit you are?” Eddie asks. Not being able to hold back. 

Steve frowns, he turns to face him. There is something in Eddie’s eyes that Steve can’t read. 

“What the hell is your problem?” He asks. Not understanding the anger that is directed at him. They never liked each other but they never attacked each other either. Steve avoided him, he never had the jock’s back when they bullied him but he never really did anything about it either. 

Eddie looks at him for a moment. He opens his mouth to speak but decides against it. He sighs and looks away but Steve keeps staring at him. A weird feeling takes over him when he looks down at the jacket Eddie is wearing. His heart stops and his face pales. 

It’s that jacket. The one that has been in your room all week. It’s just a normal dark denim jacket, it could just be a similar one, he tells himself. But the Metallica pin on the sleeve is the exact same one that he had seen on the jacket in your room. 

Eddie smells like cigarettes and weed, the cologne that he can smell even from a distance is the same one that he had smelled on you. Realization floods through him in a cold wave. 

Eddie Munson is the stoner Billy had talked about? 

Eddie Munson is the guy you have been seeing? 

How did you even meet him? 

You never even talked to him when you were still with him. 

“You got lucky, Ed,” Tony says, holding up Eddie’s notebook, “you gotta take better care of your things.” 

Eddie chuckles, feeling relief. He takes the notebook and sighs, “I know, I know,” he mumbles and steps back, “I’ll see you on Tuesday, Tony.” 

“Tell your old man to come by too.”

“Yes sir,” Eddie salutes, grinning at the older man, he takes another look at Steve, who stares into blank space as he holds the half empty glass in his hand. Sighing, he turns around and leaves. 

Steve snaps out of his thoughts, he reaches for the wallet in his back pocket and picks out a fifty dollar bill. He throws it on the counter and puts his wallet back into place, he grabs his jacket and makes his way out of the bar, following Eddie. 

“Hey! This is too much, kid!” 

“Keep the change,” Steve mumbles before he stumbles out into the cold. He clumsily puts on his jacket. The cold air hits him harshly and he suddenly feels much tipsier than he did while he was in there. 

Eddie stands by his van, the notebook is tucked under his arm, his hand is cupped over the cigarette that is between his lips as he lights it up. 

“Hey!” Steve calls out to him. He stumbles through the snow. He blinks, trying to get rid of the blurriness in his eyes. 

Eddie turns around to face him, a curious look residing on his face. He blows the smoke into the other direction and leans against his van. 

“What do you want, Harrington?” 

Steve stops in front of him. The wind feels harsh on his skin, not even the thick jacket does anything to shield him from the cold. How Eddie is able to walk around with a denim jacket and not freeze to death makes him wonder.

“W-Where did you get that jacket?” He asks. Not knowing what else to ask now that he stands in front of him. 

Eddie stares at him with a serious look on his face, eyeing him up and down. “Why?” He asks. “You wanna buy it?” 

Steve furrows his brows, he shakes his head, “no?”

“Why do you wanna know?”

Steve’s mind is a little hazy, he feels more drunk than tipsy, right now. 

“You’re the stoner.”

Eddie raises his brows, his dark eyes flash with amusement and confusion, “the stoner?” He chuckles and takes another drag from his cigarette. “They usually call me a drug dealer but sure, I’m also a stoner – sometimes.” 

Steve shakes his head. “A-Are you with y/n?” 

Eddie tilts his head. “With y/n?” 

“Are you hooking up with her?” Steve asks, angrily. 

A knowing look takes over Eddie’s expression. He pulls back and sighs in annoyance. 

“Not that it’s any of your business but no, I don’t take advantage of vulnerable girls. And not everything is about sex,” he glares at him. He feels irritated by Steve and by the way he looks so confused about this revelation. 

“Then what is it about?” He slurs. Throwing his hands up. 

“Jesus, you’re a real douchebag. Is that all you think about? Sex?” He asks. “Can’t two people that like each other just be friends?” 

The look on his face tells him no. For some reason, Steve can’t comprehend that thought. How can Eddie be your friend and not want you? He always wanted you. Ever since you were little kids. He always loved you. He always wanted you to be his – until he didn’t. 

Eddie shakes his head and rolls his eyes, he throws the cigarette into the snow and walks away. The sound of Steve’s keys jingling makes him halt in his tracks though. He closes his eyes, annoyance rushes through him. He doesn’t like Steve, he never did and after what he did to you, he started liking him even less but you are his friend and you still care about him. He takes a deep breath and turns around. 

“Put those keys away, dude.”

“Huh?” Steve mumbles. Looking up in confusion. 

“You’re not driving home like that,” he says. Pointing to his drunken state, he watches Steve trip over a small pile of snow. Maybe if things were different, he would’ve laughed at him. “Get in the van, I’ll drive you home.”

Steve looks at his car, knowing he is in no state to drive himself but he refuses to get into a car with Eddie Munson. 

“I’ll walk.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, “don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone that you let the freak drive you home.”

It’s not about that, it’s about you. 

Steve looks at Eddie, who stares at him in annoyance. 

“Get in the car, dude. She’d kick my ass if she knew that I let you drive home like this.” 

Steve looks down for a moment. He takes a few deep breaths and nods. He puts the keys back in his pocket and opens the door, careful not to slip on the icy ground, he looks down and gets into the van. 

Eddie jumps into the driver's seat and closes the door. He throws the notebook on the windshield and puts the key into the ignition, startling Steve with the loud music when he starts the car. He scrunches his face up and turns down the volume, “shit, my bad.”

Steve’s heart is pumping in his chest, sighing, he opts to look out the window after putting the seatbelt on. 

“Your music sucks.”

“The audacity you have, Harrington,” Eddie scoffs. “Here I am being nice, inviting you into my van and you dare to insult the best music that there is!” He says dramatically.

Eddie hits the buttons, turning on the radio instead, Heroes by David Bowie starts playing, “here, just for you, King Steve.” He snorts. Not knowing that this will turn out to be a bad idea. Steve tenses up when he hears the song but Eddie doesn’t notice, he is too focused on the street as he backs out of the parking spot. 

The song takes him back to last year, back to you. 

“If you had to give us – our relationship a song, which one would it be?” You asked him as you sat on his lap. 

“A Song?" He asked, chuckling. 

You nodded with a smile on your face as you looked through your new polaroid pictures that you have taken with him in the snow. He leaned his chin on your shoulder and tightened his grip on your waist. 

“Uh– probably, Heroes.” 

“By David Bowie?” 

“Yeah.” 

You nodded, humming. For a moment, it was silent between the two of you, you placed the polaroids back on the table and turned to face him.

“Isn’t it sad though?” 

Steve shrugged, not thinking as deeply as you did. 

“He sings,” you cleared your throat and looked at him shyly. “And you, you can be mean,

and I, I'll drink all the time. 'Cause we're lovers, and that is a fact. Yes we're lovers, and that is that. Though nothing will keep us together. We could steal time just for one day. We can be heroes for ever and ever. What d'you say?” 

Steve was smiling at you, his heart was fluttering in his chest and you, you were blushing by the time you were done singing. 

He poked your waist and leaned in to kiss your cheek, giving you one of his rare soft moments. “Exactly, he sings ‘we’re lovers’.”

“You are not listening to the rest of the song, Steve!” 

 “Then keep going.”

“No,” you giggled. 

“Please,” he whispered, pouting. “I love your voice.”

You rolled your eyes, playfully. You kissed his cheek and began to sing again, clearly loving the sweet moment between the two of you when he watched you with soft eyes. He cleared his throat and picked you up, laughing at the squeal that fell from your lips, he leaned in to steal a kiss before he placed your feet on the ground. He grabbed your hairbrush from your desk and held it up to his lips. 

“I, I will be king and you, you will be queen.” He sang. 

You giggled and walked backwards as he began to walk you towards your bed. 

“Though nothing will drive them away. We can be Heroes, just for one day.” He furrowed his brows as he tried to remember the rest of the lyrics. He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you back against him, “and we kissed, as though nothing could fall.” 

“You forgot the rest of the lyrics–” he cut you off with his lips on yours, kissing you passionately. He pulled your body so close against his, he could feel your heartbeat. 

Now he feels his heart breaking in his chest. 

Maybe it’s the ache in his chest, maybe it’s the alcohol in his system or maybe it’s just a combination of both that makes him break down in Eddie Munson’s van. Startling the man who was bobbing his head to the music until he heard Steve’s quiet sob. Stopping at the red light, he furrows his brows and looks over at Steve. 

“Uh– you good?” He asks. He feels a little stupid to ask him that, clearly, Steve is feeling anything but good. He taps his fingers against the steering wheel and presses his lips together. How does he comfort a man that he doesn’t even like? 

Steve cries softly, the shame isn’t there yet, right now, he doesn’t care that he is crying in front of Eddie who could tell everyone that King Steve broke down in his car while listening to David Bowie. 

“Need a tissue?” Eddie asks even though he knows he doesn’t have any in his van. 

Steve just shakes his head, clearly wanting to be left alone.

Eddie nods to himself, taking a deep breath, he sighs. Eddie knows why he is crying, it doesn’t take him long to figure it out. The moment he saw him getting drunk at the Hideout, he just knew. 

He doesn’t say anything for the rest of the drive over to Steve’s house. The music and Steve’s soft cries sound through the van. A part of Eddie pities Steve, the other part doesn’t – after all, it’s all his own fault. 

He pulls up into Steve’s driveway, still remembering the way to his house from the last party he threw back in august when he had first talked to you. He stops the car and turns down the music a little. 

“We’re here.” 

Steve nods. He wipes the tears away and he reaches for the door handle but he doesn’t leave, not yet. His eyes fall on the note lying on the floor, it must’ve slipped out from his notebook. He instantly recognizes your handwriting and his heart drops a little when he realizes that you are writing them for someone else now. It’s not affectionate or romantic, the note only says ‘good luck on the test today. Can’t wait for the milkshakes you promised!’ Next to a smiley. 

“I miss her.”

Eddie didn’t expect to hear those words from him. He leans back in his seat. 

“I-I miss her so much,” he whispers. “I-I don’t know what to do without her. I want her back.”

“You have a girlfriend, man. You left y/n for her,” Eddie mumbles. “Do you even know what you want?” 

Steve feels the bile rising in his throat. He feels sick. 

“I do now, b-but it’s too late.”

Eddie glances at him. The look of sadness and the tears are genuine and so are his words but there isn’t anything that he could say that could make Steve feel better. He doesn’t deserve you, you are too good for him and you have suffered enough to give him another chance to break you again. 

“I don’t know what you wanna hear, dude. You broke her heart and you did it in such a fucked up way too, there’s no coming back from that.”

Steve isn’t sure about what he wanted to hear but it’s definitely not that. 

“Just leave her alone, you’re only making things worse,” Eddie sighs as he thinks about you. “Go home, Steve.” 

Steve sniffles, he opens the door and nods. 

“And don’t ruin the night for her tomorrow.” 

Steve’s eyes widen, he looks at him through the tears. “She's coming?” 

Eddie nods, “yeah, her friends convinced her to come.” He can see the look in Steve’s eyes, it’s the same one he sees in your eyes. He loves you, which makes everything so much more confusing. Why did he leave you for someone else when he loves you so much? 

Steve blinks. He looks down for a moment, staring at the note that makes his heart ache. “Oh okay,” he whispers. “T-Thanks for driving me home.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, this is the most kindness he had ever shown to him. 

“Don’t mention it,” he mumbles. He narrows his eyes at him. Steve doesn’t move yet. The look on his face tells him that he wants to say more. 

“Spit it out, dude.” 

Steve looks up. Tears continue to brim in his eyes, the words are strangled in his throat. He takes a few deep breaths as he tries to stay calm. 

“T-Take care of her?” 

Eddie wants to tell him that you are capable of taking care of yourself but he decides against it. He nods. Even though he can’t understand why Steve did what he did, he can imagine the self hatred and the sadness he is feeling. A flicker of sympathy flashes in Eddie’s eyes.

“I will.”

Steve almost breaks down when he thinks of your words again, of the way you cried when you begged for him to leave, when you called him bullshit. 

He walks away when he feels like breaking down again. 

He fumbles with the keys, almost dropping them when his hands begin to shake. He manages to open the door, he steps inside and closes it. Leaning against it, he drops the floor and buries his face in his hands, a broken sob leaves his lips. 

He knows he has to let you go, the way you let him go but how? 

How? 

-

You stare at your reflection in the full length mirror. You apply the red lipstick that Chrissy convinced you to get when you stopped by the drug store after you bought the dress that you had caught your eye the last time you went shopping with them. A black, glittery dress. It’s not too tight but it’s not a wide one either, though it fits your body perfectly. The straps are thin and it has a cut on the side. You love it. It’s not something you would usually wear, you always opted for the colorful dresses but, you feel like it’s time to switch things up. 

How you let them convince you to come to the dance after all? You have no idea but the thought of spending another night filled with tears made you feel miserable. 

Heather is standing behind you with the curling iron as she finishes off the rest of your hairstyle. 

Some Christmas song is playing on the radio, the room smells like a mix of hairspray and perfume.

“Can I ask you something?” You ask as you stop applying the lipstick. 

She hums, glancing at you through your mirror. 

Heather purses her lips, she pulls the curling iron away from your hair and twists the wave. 

“Is it just me or is Chrissy being weird towards me?” 

“What do you mean?” She asks. But you can see the knowing look in her eyes, you know she – they are both not telling you something.

She runs her fingers through your hair and smooths down your waves and applies more hairspray. 

“She’s just, I don’t know. I feel like she’s keeping something from me,” you mumble. “And she seemed so sad when I agreed to go with you.” 

Heather hesitates to speak up. You can tell that she is trying to come up with a lie. 

“She’s probably just sad because she has to go with Jason Carver.”

You look down at your painted nails and nod, “yeah, I guess.”

“Which I totally get, who would want to go with him?” Heather tries to change the topic, you know she is.

“Literally no one,” you snort. “But he will probably be the new King of Hawkins High once Steve and Billy graduate and the naive freshman girls will throw themselves at him,” you say with a disgusted look on your face. 

“God, that’s a disgusting thought,” Heather says. “Let’s talk about something else – look at you,” she smirks as she leans down, placing her finger under your chin, she raises your head, “queen of Haw–”

“Don’t say that,” you groan as you tilt your head up to look at her. 

She chuckles and ruffles your hair a little. “You look amazing, now get your ass into that dress and let’s go. Maybe Munson will show up for you and steal you for a dance,” she wiggles her brows.

You roll your eyes but you can’t fight the smile off your face. 

“Shut up,” you mumble. You reach for your half finished drink. Maybe it’s not a good idea to drink alcohol but you need it, right now. You don’t plan on getting drunk, just a little tipsy to make it through the night. 

You both finish getting ready, you put your dresses on and take a few polaroid pictures in front of the fairy lights in your room. You throw a mint into your mouth and spray more perfume on yourself, hoping that your mom won’t smell the wine on you. 

She doesn’t notice it or at least, it seems like she doesn’t. She takes more pictures of you and Heather in front of the Christmas tree before you leave.

The school hall is bustling with people, loud music is playing and everything is decorated in gold, red and green colors – fitting the Christmas season. Your arm is linked with Heather’s. She seems excited, you feel overwhelmed.

The lights are flashing, girls in colorful dresses rush past you with their dates. You look around, trying to spot Chrissy but you don’t see her anywhere. You sigh, the first few minutes of a big event are always the most awkward ones. 

Where do you stand? Where do you sit? Who do you talk to? Is it too early to dance? Is it too early to leave? 

“Hey, are you okay?” Heather asks. 

You nod, smiling at her. 

“You seem a little overwhelmed.” 

“I’m fine, I-I just need something to drink.” 

“A drink?” A deeper voice asks. One that instantly makes you roll your eyes. 

Billy steps in front of you with a smirk on his face, he eyes you up and down before he looks over at Heather, checking her out as well. He is wearing a tux, the button down underneath the jacket is almost fully unbuttoned. 

“You look slutty, Billy.” You joke, “you’re lucky Mrs. Myers isn’t around or you’d be sent home for violating the dress code.” 

He chuckles darkly, leaning closer to you, he holds up one finger, “the slutty look is exactly what I was going for.” 

“As always,” you snort.  

“Do you wanna dance?” Billy asks you. 

“No thanks but Heather wants to dance.”

She turns to you with wide eyes and red cheeks.

“I know you want to,” you whisper into her ear before you pull away and place her hand into Billy’s, who smirks at you. 

“I’ll drown you in the punch if you don’t treat her well.” 

He only laughs in amusement, clearly not taking the threat seriously. 

“Y/n?” Heather glares at you. 

“Have fun, babe.” 

You know all about her not so secret crush on Billy – she is good at hiding it but you saw right through it. 

You make your way over to the snack table. Waving at some of the girls from the cheer squad who are taking pictures with their dates. 

A huge bowl is in the middle of the table, filled with red liquid and fresh fruit. You wonder if someone spiked it with alcohol yet. You pour some of it into a cup and take a sip. Definitely spiked. You down the rest of the drink and pour yourself a second cup. 

“Hey.”

You freeze. You stare down at your drink. Yeah, you definitely need the alcohol tonight. You haven’t talked to him since that night, you sat next to him during English class today and you had submitted the essay together but you didn’t talk and you hoped that it would stay that way. You didn’t want to talk to him anymore. 

“Careful with the punch, Tommy spiked it.”

You turn around to face him, his eyes widen a little when he takes in the sight of you. He looks you up and down, not in the same way Billy did but in a way that leaves your skin crawling and your heart racing. 

He is wearing a black tuxedo with a red bow tie. His hair looks amazing as always but his eyes are filled with sadness. 

“Good,” you mumble as you drink the spiked punch. 

“Y-You look beautiful,” Steve says. His heart flutters, you steal his breath away. The dark eyeshadow makes your eye color more prominent. Your red lips look so kissable and the dress looks like it was made for you. You are perfect.

“Where’s your girlfriend, Steve?” You sigh. You refuse to look into his eyes, knowing that it will only make things worse. 

He blinks, furrowing his brows. He looks over your shoulder to where she’s standing with Jonathan, smiling at him. “She’s uh–” he stops talking when he sees you walking away. He sighs, clenching his hand into a fist, “shit..”

You already feel like going home – you knew you would run into him, you still weren’t prepared, you never are. You are sick of the feeling he leaves you with whenever you see him. You are so over it. 

You take a seat at your assigned table and look around, finally spotting Chrissy in the crowd. She’s dancing with Jason, you can see the forced smile even from a mile away. 

You can’t stand him. You always hated the way he treats others – the way he thinks that he is so much better than everyone else and the way he thinks he can have anyone he wants. The way he uses Mrs. Cunningham’s liking towards him to force himself into Chrissy’s life, knowing that she doesn’t actually like him. 

You relax a little when you see Heather heading towards Chrissy, pulling her away from Jason so that they can dance together. You lean back in the chair and sip on your drink. 

You wish you would have stayed at home. 

You wish you would have listened to Eddie when he said that this sucks. 

You feel like a loser, sitting by yourself at this empty table, sipping one drink after the other as your eyes continuously move back to him. You see him with her and it breaks your heart all over again. By now, you should be used to it and you were – you have gotten used to this. To him not being yours anymore, to him loving someone else, to him being with someone else but then he turned everything upside down.

His confession left you in shambles. He had broken everything, again. All the strength you have gathered since the day he left you, he took it all away from you with a few words and a kiss that almost happened. 

He loves you, that’s what he said. But he is here, holding her in his arms, kissing her as though he didn’t try to kiss you, two nights ago. He is dancing with her, whispering things into her and holding her tightly. 

None of it makes sense to you. 

If he loves you so much, then why is he dancing with her as though nothing ever happened? 

Why is he still with her? 

Is she a rebound now or were you just the backup plan all along? 

The girl he’d come back to once things with her go downhill? 

Are they already going downhill? 

Is that why he told you he still loves you? 

So that he has someone to come back to? 

You feel so miserable. The longer you stare at him. You begin to feel worse and worse. 

Not even a dance with your friends helps you lift your mood. Not even the compliments and the nice things that people have said to you tonight, make you feel better. Nothing makes you feel better but you force a smile on your face, a happy one. The way you always do and you dance with Heather and Chrissy, holding their hands and pretending to have the time of your life when all you wanna do is go home and cry yourself to sleep. 

It’s when you find yourself sitting on the bleachers with a sad expression on your face, ready to say ‘fuck it’ and go home, that your night takes a turn for the better. 

You don’t hear the footsteps coming your way, you are too busy looking at all the happy couples. Someone clears their throat. 

“May the Master of Dungeons have a dance with the ethereal Queen of Hawkins High?” 

Your eyes widen and a smile tugs at your lips, you straighten up and turn to look at Eddie who playfully bows in front of you with a smile on his face, getting a few weird looks from the other, which neither of you care about.

A giggle falls from your lips, “Eddie!”

“Come on, give me your hand, Queen.”

You laugh and place your hand in his. He pulls you up and smiles at you when your eyes lock. “Look at you,” he beams. He raises your hand over your head, “give me a twirl,” he winks. 

You roll your eyes, playfully. Giving him the twirl that he asked for, you can’t help but giggle when he begins to whistle. 

“You look beautiful, sweetheart!” 

He grabs your waist when you stumble a little. He instantly smells the alcohol on you. 

“Thank you, Eddie.” 

He eyes you with a smile on his face, “love the smokey eyes and the dress – honestly, you look like a witchy fairy.” 

“A witchy fairy?” You laugh, tilting your head. 

He puts his hand over his heart, “I mean that as a compliment – a badass witchy, fairy, shit, I’m gonna have to create a character based on you now.” 

You shake your head, laughing at the concentrated look on his face. He is wearing a white button down, a few buttons are left undone, one of his tattoos is peeking out from beneath the shirt, and a silver chain is around his neck. His curly hair looks as good as always. 

“You look amazing, Eddie.”

He raises his brows in surprise, his dark eyes light up. 

“Thank you, badass fairy witch,” he winks. “Look, I stole these pants from Wayne, I have none without holes in them,” he laughs, pointing to the black pants he is wearing.

You can’t even help but giggle. 

“I thought this isn’t your thing,” you say. Gesturing to the dance. 

He shrugs, “yeah well, I thought you could use a dance partner.”

Your gaze softens. A feeling of warmth and comfort rushes through you. “You came for me?” 

He holds your hand tighter, “who else would I come here for?” He asks as he looks into your big eyes. 

“My knight in shining armor,” you tease. 

He snorts at your words, “come on.” He says as he pushes you in front of him and leads you into the middle of the dance floor, pushing some jock out of the way. You can feel the eyes on you, you can see the weird looks from the cheerleaders when they see you with Eddie. It only makes you scoff at them. 

A squeal leaves your lips when Eddie suddenly twirls you again, laughing when you hold onto his hand tightly. He wraps his arms around you from behind and leans in, “let me guess, you had some of that spiked punch?” He whispers into your ear. 

"Absolutely,” you giggle and turn around to face him. You place your hands on his shoulders. 

“Bad girl,” he smirks, tapping your nose.

“I learned from the best.” You tap his nose back, making him laugh. 

Steve watches you and Eddie with an irritated look on his face. You seem so carefree and happy with him. So familiar. Like you have known each other for a long time already. You melt into his touch so easily and laugh at whatever he is whispering into your ear. 

The feeling in his chest is sickening. He knows it’s jealousy. He can’t do anything about it though. The girl in his arms is his, you aren’t – not anymore.

Every breath you take by The Police starts playing. Some leave the dance floor, some stay to slow dance with their partner. Steve pulls Nancy closer and looks over her shoulder to see what you will do. 

Eddie pulls you closer and you wrap your arms around him, you lay your head on his chest, melting into him so easily. It breaks Steve’s heart a little. He feels tense, it’s hard to see you with someone else, even when Eddie said that there is nothing but friendship between the two of you, it certainly looks more than just that to Steve.

You don’t even notice the weird looks you are getting from the people around you. You are only focused on him. The thought of you and Eddie somehow hurts more than the thought of you and Billy. Because Billy would be nothing more than a hookup but Eddie? Eddie is a good guy, one who will treat you well and love you the way he couldn’t.

“Is everything okay?” Nancy asks as she lifts her head to look at him. 

“Yeah,” he mumbles with a frown on his face. “Why?”

Her blue eyes are filled with confusion, she shrugs, “you seem tense.”

“I’m fine, Nance,” he says, softly. 

“Okay,” she smiles. 

When she lays her head on his chest, he squeezes her and looks back up. His breath hitches in his throat when his eyes lock with yours as you rest your chin on Eddie’s shoulder, who’s back is turned towards him. For a moment, you look at each other. Steve’s heart begins to beat faster in his chest, the longer you look at each other. He longs for you. This, all of this, feels so wrong. He shouldn’t be here with her and you shouldn’t be there with him. 

But while his eyes soften, your eyes harden. 

His are filled with longing and sadness. 

Yours are filled with indifference. 

You look at each other for a few long seconds and then you take one final look at him before you tear your eyes away from him. Somehow, that felt like a stab to his heart because that moment felt like the end. The realization that it is truly over makes his blood run cold. He feels paralyzed by the pain that he had caused himself. 

Eddie tightens his hold on you when he feels how tense you are, he looks down at you with a look of concern in his eyes.

“Do you want to get out of here?” 

"Yes, please." 

next part

only tagging friends & mutuals

@mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @screammunson @hellfire--cult @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint @sherrylyn628 @somethingvicked @nemesis729 @taintedcigs @take-everything-you-can

[buckysgrace]

Gimme steve being desperate and pathetic and missing the taste of pussy so badly that he begs for it 🩷🩷🩷🩷

This is nasty and so awful but Steve is at his rock bottom dying for the taste of pussy he can't help himself

Steve Harrington x Bi!Reader

Steve is going through a dry spell and seeks out pleasure in the one person he shouldn't. Robin's girlfriend. (im so sorry Robin ily)

CW: Phew, fem receiving oral sex, spitting, unprotected p in v sex, slight bulge kink, cheating, steve begs a lot but reader wants it just as bad!!

He was sure that he was losing his mind.

He'd tried everything. Bad date after bad date. Shitty, expensive pornos that he'd jerked himself off to until his dick was raw and sore. It was like he was broken. He couldn't cum.

It had been an accident the first time it had happened. He had finished his shift early and had grand plans on returning home and trying to jerk off in the shower again.

He had roughly stumbled in through the front door, not even able to announce his arrival before his heart stalled inside of his chest. His eyes fell to the two scrambling forms, but more importantly to you.

Your legs were spread wide, your back pressed deeply into the cushions as you tried to free yourself. It wasn’t quick enough. He was able to observe your cunt in that quick flash, to see the slick across your folds before you clamped your legs shut and tried to hide your breasts beneath your palms.

A squeal left your mouth, embarrassment seeking into your features as you blindly searched for something to cover yourself as Robin began to defensively throw pillows at Steve to get him to turn away.

He did, but he still had the chance to get a good look at you. He thought about you constantly after that. He couldn't get rid of the sight of the way your body curved, the softness of your boobs and the way your ass moved when you walked. Most of all, he wanted to taste you. He wanted to press his tongue deep inside of you, to explore your deepest crevices until there was nothing left.

He felt like he was obsessed. Every time he touched himself or when he was with someone else; he thought of you. He pictured your pretty features, imagined what your face would look like contorted into pleasure with his face buried between your smooth thighs.

It was the one thing that truly got him off. He felt terrible, awful really. He knew it was wrong, but he could feel his eyes lingering each time you were in the room. It wasn't even in a sexual way. He could feel himself savoring the way you looked. He enjoyed the curve of your face, your nose and your lips. Your eyes. All of it.

He liked listening to you talk, how you'd ramble about your favorite books and the new movies that you were excited to see. You were sort of a nerd like Robin, but he ultimately enjoyed each little thing that fell from your tongue.

He felt like he was young again, like he was experiencing his first crush all over again. His palms would grow sweaty, his heart would hammer and he would stutter over his words as he tried to find the right thing to say to you. Robin had taken to mocking him, completely oblivious to his little crush.

You always acted interested, even if it was just out of kindness. You were patient, kind. As his feelings grew, the guilt began to consume him. He didn't know why the one person who he'd finally felt something for had to be Robin's.

"Can't sleep?" He asked, his mind racing as he took in the baggy shirt that was resting over your shoulders. He felt his mouth growing dry, his cheeks hot as he took in your hardened nipples against your shirt. His eyes trailed down to your hips, taking in your panties that were decorated in sunflowers.

"Yes," You giggled offhandedly as you pushed your hair behind your ears, exposing your pretty face to him, "Robin always has an easier time falling asleep." You told him truthfully, smiling as you held your cup of juice towards your chest.

"Yeah," Steve agreed softly, thinking of the many times that Robin had passed out in his bed next to him, "She's a deep sleeper." He nodded, his glass suddenly feeling too slippery in his grip. He sat it down as he leaned against the counter, watching the way your shirt slid further up your body as you raised your arm to take a drink from the cup.

"You've been around more lately," You observed, using the back of your hand to wipe the liquid from your lips, "Dry spell?" You teased him, making his lips curl up into a smile at the thought of you noticing.

"Something like that," He agreed as he tapped his fingertips on the counter. You moved towards him, resting near him as your gaze turned curious, "It's been driving me crazy." He suddenly blurted out, feeling a little alarmed at the way his heart was hammering from how close your hand was towards him.

"Yeah?" You looked at him curiously, crossing your legs so your foot just lightly grazed against his exposed skin. He inhaled sharply, swearing at the spark that traveled up his spine, "How come?"

"I'm, uh," He paused for a moment, trying to decide if his next thoughts were appropriate or not. He bit his bottom lip, deciding that you had asked after all, "I don't know. No one seems interested I guess."

"They're crazy," You brushed his worries off as you gripped his wrist, giving him a soft squeeze that left his insides flipped, "You're sweet. They don't know what they're missing. Being single isn't too bad though." You offered, shrugging your shoulders to make him feel better.

"I really miss pussy," He spit out again, horrified by his own reaction as he felt his cheeks flush, "Like desperately." He added a second later, his heart thumping against his bones as you looked at him surprised. You giggled again, looking like you were debating something before you decided to speak again.

"Toys are nice," You said softly as you fumbled your fingers together, "But sometimes I really miss the real deal." You couldn't look at him as you spoke, but he held onto each word regardless.

"Yeah?" He asked, his voice suddenly feeling raw by the feelings that were rushing forth inside of him. He chewed on his bottom lip, feeling like he may combust at any moment.

"Mhm," You nodded your head, "I obviously wouldn't change anything, but I get it. It's like, almost feels like a drug you crave you know?" You tried to explain, feeling a little silly for talking about sex with your girlfriend's best friend. You and Steve were friendly, but you wouldn't say you were close despite the fact that you practically lived with them.

"Do you want to feed that craving?" He asked a little hotly, his voice husky and full of want as he watched the way your tongue drifted across your bottom lip. He felt a little feral, wanting to lean across the counter and lick your salvia from your mouth himself.

"What?" You looked at him surprised, your heart lurching in your chest as you were trying to see if you had heard him right. Your heart hammered inside of your chest as your stomach twisted. Steve was handsome. Really handsome. There was no denying that. You knew there had been moments when he'd strutted out shirtless that you had found yourself staring, your eyes drinking in his chest hair and the moles that decorated his skin.

"I know, I know how it sounds," He pleaded with her, sure that he would end up regretting this in the morning, "I just need a taste. No one has to know, I won't ever say anything." He could feel his dick twitching in anticipation, although he was fully prepared to be rejected. It was wrong. He shouldn't be asking you of all people in the first place.

"Steve," You breathed out slowly, feeling hot underneath his intense gaze, "This is wrong." You mumbled but stood to meet his stance regardless. He could feel the tension intensifying between the two of you, knew that you wanted him just as badly.

"I know that," He responded huskily as he drew a fingertip across her cheek, "Just need a taste. Once. It won't ever happen again." He promised her as he pressed his digit into her skin. You inhaled sharply, parting your lips as he stared into your mouth.

"Robin can't find out." You whispered a little softer, feeling guilty for the words that left your lips. Your stomach filled with guilt, but it wasn't enough to overcome the lust that had spread through the rest of your body.

"You can say no," He told her huskily as he knelt between her legs, his fingertips linking around her panties, "Do you want this?" He asked you seriously, giving you the ultimate decision. There was no going back for him.

"Yes," You responded gently, overwhelmed but the look of desperation in his eyes, "I want you, Stevie." You whispered underneath your breath, unable to control the way your body was moving closer to his.

He pressed you against the counter, gripping your soft thigh as he crashed his lips against your own. He swallowed your moans slowly as he dragged his lips against yours, enjoying the taste and feel of it all.

He was aching in his pants, his cock throbbing from how hard he'd grown just being near you. He felt like his skin was on fire, his body lighting into flames the more that he felt your bare skin against his own.

He moved his large hands against your waist, squeezing softly before he dipped his fingertips into the band of your panties. You sighed against his mouth, your fingertips playing with the hair at the nape of his neck as he savored the feeling of your flesh against his own.

He slid his hands up to the hem of your shirt, pulling away from your mouth for just a moment as he tugged the cloth up over your shoulders. He breathed in hotly, admiring the shape your tits and the curve of your body before he pressed his lips against yours again.

You tasted sweet, like apples and sugar as he slid his tongue slowly inside of your mouth. You were hesitant for a moment, before you pressed your tongue against his just as urgently. He groaned at the feeling of your tongue pressing against his own before he dragged away, licking away the saliva from the corners of your lips.

Your stomach twisted in pleasure, drowning out the guilt as his tongue traced over the curve of your mouth. You swore he must've felt your heart hammering in your chest by the way his large hands squeezed over your tits.

"So pretty," He mumbled as he pulled away for just a moment, his eyes dark and heavy as he examined your features again. He drifted his fingers up towards your chin, holding onto you for a moment as he brushed his thumb across your skin, "You drive me crazy." He admitted, wondering if you knew just how true his words were.

He pecked your lips again before you could say anything else, stealing the breath from your lungs. He pressed a kiss to your chin, then down the curve of your neck as he made his way down to your hips. You breathed in roughly at the feeling of his lips dragging against your skin, your clit throbbing at the anticipation. it was wrong, but it felt so right.

He fell to his knees in front of you, his hair messy and his lips parted as he drew his fingertips teasingly along the band of your panties. Your heart hammered roughly, stalling inside of your chest as he hooked his fingers through the material and slowly dragged them down the length of your legs.

His eyes fell to you, drinking in the look of your wet pussy. He licked his lips, his mouth watering at the smell of your arousal that drifted along his nose. He wanted to bury himself deep inside of you, was desperate to feel you squirming against him. He just needed a taste.

“Wanna taste you so bad,” He whined as he sat on his knees in front of you, his fingers drifting across your thighs, “Your pussy looks so pretty, looks like she tastes so sweet.” He spoked more to himself, feeling like he was in a trance as he dipped a fingertip between your folds.

He groaned at the slick feeling, at how warm and wet you felt as he slowly explored you with his fingertip. Your body twitched and you gasped, watching the intense way he was observing you.

He pressed his finger against your clit, pressing down softly as he rolled it around in a soft circle. You moaned as you spread your legs a little further, moaning at the warm sparks that spread through your body.

He pulled away, looking up at you with hazy eyes as he slowly pressed his finger inside of his mouth. He groaned as he tasted you, sighing deeply as he circled his tongue along his fingertip. He quickly pulled away, spreading your legs wider as he positioned himself between your thighs. He was too needy to tease you as his cock began to throb hard in anticipation.

He dragged his tongue between your folds achingly slow, savoring each little moment as he curled his tongue slowly back up towards your clit. You whined, your fingers gripping his hair tightly as you spasmed around him.

A soft whimper left his mouth as he enjoyed the taste of you as he swiped his tongue through your folds again. He pressed his mouth against your folds, puckering his lips as he kissed at your cunt.

Your body felt warm, tingles racing up your spine as he dipped his tongue lower and began to trace it around your hole. You gaped, struggling to keep your voice quiet as he curled his tongue deep inside of your fluttering hole.

“Stevie,” You whined as your thighs shook, your eyes fluttering as he lapped at you liked a starving man. Your heart fluttered, wondering if he was by the way his eyes met yours quickly. They were dark, dilated as he dragged his tongue back up towards your clit, “Jesus.” You cried out, squirming as your hips began to move on their own.

He placed another quick kiss against your clit before he dipped back down again, teasingly licking at your aching hole. Your motions became uncontrollably as you began to rut against his face messily, though by the sounds that he made it seemed like he enjoyed it even more.

His nose dug into your clit with his motions, pressing it against you repeatedly as you continued to rock your cunt against his eager tongue. His fingers dug into your hips, holding you tightly as soft groans fell from his mouth. He wasn’t touching himself, but moaned and groaned like he was getting himself off from the taste of you.

Your body felt like it was bursting into flames, spreading up the curve of your spine and way down to the tips of your toes. You dug your fingers deeper into his brown locks, clinging to him as he buried his face deeper into your cunt.

He curled his tongue inside of you, flicking it against your walls as you fluttered around him. It took everything in you to stay quiet, to keep from crying out as his nose continually hit against your clit. it was enough to drive you over the edge, to send your hips rocking up against his tongue one last time.

"Fuck, fuck," You did cry out this time, your moans filling the quiet apartment as his fingertips dug deep into your flesh. You moaned loudly, your eyes rolling back as your nipples grew hard from the sudden breeze that hit you, "Oh, God. Oh Steve." You sighed, your tongue feeling heavy in your mouth as you trembled around him.

His movements became more frantic as he licked away your cum, slowly dragging it through his mouth before he swallowed it all. He devoured you, feeling as though he'd never had something so sweet on his tongue before. He feared he'd never taste anything as good again, that he would forever be craving the feeling of you on his mouth.

"Let me fuck you," He begged as he clawed at your hips, "It'll feel so much better than any toy." He spoke honestly as he dragged you down towards him, his body feeling hot as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

You moaned, your clit still sensitive from your orgasm as you pressed yourself against him. You pressed your lips against his, licking away the taste of yourself on his tongue as he desperately rocked his hips forward.

"Steve," You whined, rolling your hips against his clothed cock as you tangled your fingers through his hair, "It's wrong. I shouldn't want you like this." You whimpered but could feel your walls breaking down at the feeling of just how long and thick his cock was. It really had been a long time.

"Just wanna feel your pussy around me," He urged, looking all too desperate as he groaned at the wet way your cunt slid against him, "Please. Please it doesn't ever have to happen again." He nodded his head, doing whatever he could to reassure you.

"Okay," You wiggled off of him, falling onto your backside as you spread your legs wide. He drank in the image of you spread for him again, his mouth watering as he positioned himself between your legs. He roughly tugged down his pajama pants, barely giving you any time to look before he was gripping his thick girth and tapping his tip against your clit, "Jesus, Stevie. Need you so bad." You whispered, spreading your legs wider as he pressed his tip inside of your wet hole.

"God," He groaned, fighting the urge to shut his eyes from how good you felt wrapped around his cock. Your pussy squeezed him perfectly, was warm and wet as he slowly filled you to the brim. He admired the way your cunt hugged him, how your lips parted and a silent moan left your lips, "So perfect. You're so perfect." He spit out, unable to help himself as he balanced himself on his palms near your shoulders.

He gasped, pleasure shooting up his spine as he bottomed out inside of you. HIs balls fit snuggly against your skin as you took him easily, your mind swirling in pleasure as you suddenly found it hard to breath. Steve was big. Bigger than any of the toys Robin had ever used on you, bigger than any of the other men you'd been with.

The burn and stretch of him was delicious. It made your lips curl into a grin, your stomach curling in pleasure as the moans rolled off of your tongue. You dug your nails into his shoulder blades, whining at the overwhelming sensation of pleasure that filled your body.

"Oh," You gasped, your eyes rolling back into your head as he slowly dragged his cock out of your fluttering walls and then slammed back in. You cried out a little louder, struggling to stay quiet this time. His cock curved in just the right way to hit against your bundle of nerves with each little motion, "So good. You feel so good." You breathed out, unable to focus on anything else. You couldn't stop, not even if Robin were to stumble out. You were fucked.

Steve was a little louder, whiny and groaning as he slowly rutted his cock in and out of your crying cunt. You were leaking around him, coating his cock and balls in your slick as his thrusts became deeper and harder.

"You're doing so good," He praised you, grunting deeply as his hair fell wildly across his forehead. He groaned, moving a hand towards your hip as he looked down at the bulge against your stomach, "Feel that baby? Look at you, taking my cock so well." He groaned as he pressed against the spot, making you squirm at the intensity of it all.

You dug your nails into his skin a little harder, your lips falling open into bliss as he continued to drag his cock in and out of your fluttering walls. He felt so good, fit inside of you perfectly. You savored the feel of his cock, each ridge and curve as he continued to press your body harder into the floor.

He could feel the pleasure spreading through his body, his cock aching at how tightly your cunt was squeezing along his girth. His forehead fell towards yours as he drank in the feeling of your minty breath fanning his face. He closed his eyes before he blindly pressed his lips against your face, searching for your lips as he did his best to keep you both quiet,

You met his lips with a fierce intensity, moaning at the way your clit was erupting into flames from the way his was continually nudging against your g-spot. You were squirming, your thighs shaking from the white hot pleasure that was spreading deep inside of you.

You kissed him harshly, your tongue sliding against his messily as your teeth brushed against one another's. It was dirty, hot and sweaty as you savored the feeling and sound of his moans on your lips.

The sound of your flesh meeting filled the tiny kitchen, your cunt soaked and squelching along his thick cock. You felt your toes beginning to curl, your mind breaking into hazy pleasure as you clung to him.

"Steve, Steve I-," You shook, crying out as you reached forward to bite down harshly onto his shoulder. You whimpered, shaking as you came around his cock. Your whole body shuddered, your mind broken as all you could do was focus on how good you felt, "God. Oh God."

His breath was hot against the crook of your neck, his groans loud as his thrusts became more sporadic. He pushed into you even deeper, whimpering as he bottomed out once again. He came. his nose brushing against your cheek as his hot, white spunk filled your walls.

You panted against him, dragging your fingertips through his hair as he fell against you. You whimpered, enjoying the feeling of being trapped underneath his weight. You nudged your nose against his neck, breathing in his sweaty musk as his heart beat rapidly against your skin.

He pulled back a second later, his eyes still dark and lustful as he slowly pulled his softening cock from your cunt. You whimpered at the loss, a gasp leaving your mouth a second later at the mess that slid from your hole.

Your body was warm as he spread your legs again, his lips dragging along your stomach before he kissed you lower and lower. You were too tired to protest, your pleasure too deep as he dropped between your legs again.

He dragged his tongue around your hole again, licking away the remnants of his cum before he dragged himself over your tired body. You looked up at him, eyes wide in lust as he slowly pressed a sloppy kiss to your mouth again.

You dragged his cum from his tongue, licking it away gleefully as you held onto the back of his neck. You were still sore, overstimulated and far too sensitive but your hips still rocked forward against his.

"You're so good," He cooed, pulling away slowly to stare down at you. His heart was still hammering in the same manner, and he felt a sense of dread filling him. This wouldn't be the last time with you, he was sure of it, "Our little secret?"

[shares-a-vest]

@steddiemas Day 16: Angst-Themed (Saturday Sentence Starters)

wc: 1k | Rated: T | cw: Steve’s parents are arguing (he is overhearing it briefly but there are some descriptions of yelling), toxic family dynamics, unstable marriage, cheating

Tags: Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, Angst with a Happy Ending, Unstable Marriage, Toxic Family Dynamics, Cheating

“I don’t want to fight with you, Caroline,” Steve hears his father bellow from downstairs, “Not tonight.”

He snaps his comic closed and tosses it on the floor.

Steve has no idea what his parents are arguing about. Hell, they don’t even need an excuse these days, he thinks. Someone can so much as fart and it will start a goddamn screaming match.

He guesses he shouldn’t be surprised. It’s the holidays and his parents are both off work until the beginning of the New Year. It’s snowing heavy out so they can’t go down to the Martens’ house – their best friends-come-buffer zones.

“Oh, John!” his mother chides before there is a lower muffle that he can’t quite make out.

While being hard of hearing allows him not to hear anything below a shout, the broken argument is still frustrating.

His parents might not need an excuse to fight, but he’d still like to know what it’s about. Gain intel for the inevitable coming days of being stuck in the middle.

Steve has a few guesses as to what it could be.

His mother bought a new car with her Christmas bonus finally topping up her bank account and thus justifying an indulgent and expensive purchase. His father always hates that.

Steve smirks.

If his father didn’t like that kind of independence, why did he marry a high-paid lawyer?

But, the more likely scenario considering his father’s apparent insistence he ‘doesn’t want to fight’ is that he is cheating again.

Cindy, his secretary, or someone new – take your pick.

The telltale signs have been there for a month or two. A renewed cheery attitude, longer office hours, a fresh haircut and new clothes.

Actually, now that he thinks about it, it might be a little bit of a motivator behind his mother’s car purchase too – 

“ – Cindy!” his mother shrieks.

Yep, there it is.

Steve rolls off the bed, planting his feet on the carpet right by his shoes.

“Fuck this,” he mutters, scooping up his keys and wallet from the nightstand.

He’s just about halfway to Forest Hills, driving at a snail’s pace because he can’t see for snow, when he begins to regret his decision to leave the house.

Maybe he shouldn’t just barge in on the Munsons unannounced. Like sure, his friendship with Eddie is… teetering on not being entirely platonic. But this might be too much.

He always thought it was too much when he’d walk down to stay at Carol Perkins’ house for an impromptu sleepover. And there was always this awkward, knowing going on with the Wheeler’s when he was dating Nancy and spending a lot of time just hanging about.

Lingering for too long in the kitchen chatting to Karen or watching a game with Ted until the guy started snoring too loud to hear the commentators.

It was all there but largely unspoken.

Only Robin knows the details. And even then, he’s sure that her father’s friendliness towards him was partly due to his daughter telling him all about the trouble at the ‘ol Harrington house. He doesn’t blame his best friend for likely doing so. And he doesn’t consider it blabbing, either. Robin’s parents – her whole family – are amazing.

But some of his parent’s shit is stupid at best, hard to take at worst.

And he is scared to let Eddie in on it.

It’s too much.

He’s too much.

Being a Harrington is too much.

Wayne answers the door with a cup of cocoa that seems glued to his left hand in winter.

“Steve,” he says, voice gruff as ever despite a warm smile.

“Hi,” he replies, looking down at his snow-covered boots, “Eddie in?”

Of course, he’s in, his van is parked outside.

Steve can feel the warmth from inside the trailer. See the twinkle of lights from the Munson’s small, but heavily-decorated, Christmas tree. The smell of cocoa overpowering the ever-present hint of cigarettes.

“Eddie!” Wayne calls over his shoulder, “Steve’s here.”

In a flash, Eddie runs to the front door and practically bumps into his uncle.

“Come in!” he insists, wide-eyed as he looks past his shoulder at the falling snow.

And before Steve can even step in, Eddie is pulling him by his parka sleeve. He only just manages to scrape off his boots on the ‘Home Sweet Home’ adorned welcome mat.

“What some cocoa?” Eddie offers, eliciting a grumble from Wayne.

“I asked if you wanted some,” he chides.

“But Steve might want some,” Eddie grins.

“How about I heat up a pot now, and whoever wants some’s got it?” Wayne suggests, pursing his lips at Eddie and moving to the stove before his nephew can make any more requests.

“Follow me,” Eddie says, grabbing his hand, “I made cookies.”

He wiggles his brows and begins leading Steve to the kitchen.

As he is pulled along, Steve tries not to think about the fact that they are holding hands. Or how he wishes his fifteen-minute-ago Self had thought to bring an overnight bag and allowed himself to assume the Munsons would allow him to stay the night.

But it might be even harder to stop himself from squeezing his friend’s hand and lacing his fingers with Eddie’s.

Eddie lets go of his hand to gesture to the tray of Christmas-themed shapes, all looking a little too dark for gingerbread as they rest on the kitchen island.

“Pick one, Big Boy,” Eddie beams.

Steve reaches for a reindeer, flexing his fingers as he goes and commits the feeling of Eddie’s rings to memory.

“No!” Eddie shrieks, lightly smacking his hand enough that he drops it, leaving the cookie to snap in half as it falls back onto the tray, “His antlers are broken.”

“Christ, boy!” Wayne curses, stirring the pot on the stovetop.

Okay, a tree then…

“The star is missing!”

A bell?

“That was already snapped in half when I got them out of the oven”, Eddie admits with a tight-lipped smile.

Steve places his hands on his hips and rolls his eyes. To him, they all look at least a little crumbly – some he would even describe as lightly charred.

“How about you pick one for me then, Betty Crocker?” he chuckles.

Eddie giggles, twirling a lock of his hair as he carefully considers the tray of mostly broken, dry cookies.

He watches Eddie for a long enough time that Wayne pushes a mug into his hand, the warmth of Eddie’s hand remaining in place due to the heat of the cocoa. It’s a Chicago Cubs mug, one that he finds himself holding at some point each time he is here as if Wayne considers it Steve’s own.

He smiles for the first time in three days.

[morganbritton132]

Do you think Eddie and Steve have ever fallen victim to the weird trend of people calling the police to ‘save’ famous people? Like some fans of his tiktok became convinced Steve was holding him hostage after making 2+2=5 when they googled up Billy’s name

This is such an interesting question because I could see it going both ways.

There are always going to be people that look at Eddie and see wanted posters. There are people who will never be convinced that he didn’t commit those murders, and they’re only ever going to see a victim in Steve because of it.

Steve is clumsy. He has a head injury and issues with balance, and sometimes he gets confused. Sometimes he gets bruised. He’s cut his hand in the middle of a seizure and needed stitches. He’s broken his ankle and walked on it for an entire day.

Sometimes nurses and doctors see his injury and see his medical history, and then they see the scruffy guy calling himself his husband, and they ask him to step outside the room. They ask Steve questions and it always takes him a second to realize what they’re trying to get at because domestic abuse is not something that he can attach to Eddie in any capacity.

And Steve will get angry about it. How dare they think such a thing? How could they look at Eddie and see how much love he holds in his heart and think that he would ever hurt Steve?

 

I think that Eddie is always going to have some fans that see Steve as this bad guy that does not deserve to be with him. There is nothing that he will ever do that can change that. They are just angry that Eddie is with someone other than them.

I can definitely see them hearing about all the bad shit that went down in Hawkins and seeing Steve’s connection to some of it – The coverup story for Starcourt paints Robin and Steve as two dedicated retail employees that saved a bunch of children from a fire – and then take that extra step to twist it into something so much worse.

The kid that went missing in Hawkins in 1983 just so happened to be the little brother of the guy that stole Steve’s high school girlfriend? That’s interesting. That’s suspicious.

And his high school bully (that he apparently hit with a car!) just so happened to die in a fire at his place of work? Weird.

And despite the fact that the police and an angry mob couldn’t find Eddie, Steve Harrington – a video rental employee – happened to find him?

You pair the horror story that was Hawkins in the eighties up with Eddie’s scars and all the off-hand jokes people have made on live-streams about Steve’s sleepwalking, or with Steve’s reactions to being scared and you can make a convincing case for anything.

Eddie ends a live-stream early one night at Steve’s request and then an hour later, they’re getting a knock on the door by two police officers doing a welfare check.

Steve and Eddie are obviously confused, and Steve is really disheartened when one of the officers lets it slip that the person calling was concerned because of a live-stream.

It puts a damper on the date night he’d set up for them in the living room and he doesn’t really want to continue it after the cops leave. Eddie tries to find the bright side of the situation, “Babe, it’s nothing. It’s not like it’ll be in the papers.”

“They think I hurt you,” Steve says. “They – your fans think that I would – that I’d ever – and they’re not wrong, technically. I have hurt you before.”

“And I nearly cut your throat with a broken glass bottle,” Eddie replies, ignoring the way Steve scoffs at him. “Anything that you’ve ever done because you were confused or lost in your head, or sleepwalking doesn’t count. You weren’t all here and it’s not your fault if you aren’t aware of what you’re doing, right? And anyways, I’m typically bothering you.”

“You’re blaming yourself for me hurting you?”

“No, I’m – No. I’m not,” Eddie clarifies. “I am saying that I don’t always come into the situation knowing what’s going on and sometimes I make it worse. Sure, I’ve gotten a bit of a hit. You kick in your sleep. But you have never hurt me.”

“Is it El’s fault when the cabinets rattle when she has a nightmare?” Eddie continues because it’s clear that Steve does not agree with him. “Or that time she got so scared that all the lightbulbs shattered? You got cut when that happened, remember? You have a scar. Is that her fault?”

“That’s different. She can’t-“

“And neither can you,” Eddie says. “I’m telling you now, Stevie. You know what my life was like before I moved in with Wayne. I will never be in a situation like that again. So, if I was than I would not be here, but I am here because you have never done anything to hurt me, okay?”

[fearlessreid]

Bad Idea, right?

a/n: yeah yeah steve won the poll, enjoy.

pairing: steve harrington x reader

summary: you and king steve have been broken up for 6 months, will that distaste you feel for him manifest into sexual tension when you see him at a party?

warnings: SMUT 18+. swearing. unprotected sex (pls wrap it up, especially with your ex) piv sex

2K words (not proofread)

obv based off of olivia’s song

Six months ago I broke up with ‘king steve’, he would tell you that it's because there was a ‘lack of chemistry’ which we all know is a lie, the real reason is because all he could care about was partying and his stupid, stupid hair.

Im sitting at my vanity applying lip gloss, getting ready for another one of carol perkins end of year summer kickoff parties, it's honestly just an excuse for the jocks to hook up with the band geeks and then blame it on the alcohol.

“Okay so Tommy is going to be there, despite it being carols party and they broke up right after prom” my best friend, heather rants. I nod my head and continue applying my makeup. Heather continues “But Tommy told me to keep an eye out for him so I think he wants to hook up and- you are so not listening”

I sigh “I am, I just have bigger things to worry about” I say and heather scoffs “right because worrying about being at a party with steve harrington for the first time in months is so important” she sasses and I roll my eyes.

“Oh please like I could give a shit about king steve and his hair that would explode if I held a lighter to it”. Heather laughs “you totally give a shit,” “nope now hand me the hairspray”

At the party, I stand by a staircase, nursing a cup of jungle juice in my hand, watching across the room as Heather has her tongue down tommys throat.

A hand taps my shoulder and I look at the culprit. Peter Marco, the cute boy from my algebra class, once upon a time, long before Steve harrington, I had a crush on peter, that crush being fizzled out by the charm of king steve.

He smiles, his dimple showing “hey, haven't seen you in a hot second” he says and i smile back, “yeah, I took a break from the whole party thing”. For the next half an hour, I talked with Peter, he's cute and he's funny, he's the type of guy I should want.

Our peaceful conversations get interrupted by a boy yelling “king steve is in the building” and everyone starts chanting and cheering. I roll my eyes and walk into the kitchen, I did not need this.

I down at least 3 more cups of jungle juice, the sugar is rotting my teeth and the alcohol is going right into my bloodstream, it's only 10:00 pm and I am completely wasted.

I walk to go use the bathroom. My head is spinning. I bump into someone and the next thing I can comprehend is their drink now on my dress, my light pink dress. I look up and his eyes burn into mine, the man of the hour, Steven William Harrington.

“You absolute idiot look what you did” I yell. I pushed past him and ended up in the second floor bathroom. I locked the door and took a wet towel to try to scrub the drink out of my dress.

There's a knock at the door. “Occupied” I called out and took a seat on the toilet seat. “Open up” Steve calls from the other side of the door. I roll my eyes “go away” I yell and go back to scrubbing at my dress.

“I brought a tide stick, let me in” he says, an undertone of annoyance. I hesitantly open the door and let him in. He comes in and closes the door.

I sit back down on the toilet seat and he bends down on his knees and tries to take out the stain with the tide stick. It doesn't work and I sigh frustratedly. “I'll pay for dry cleaning, don't get your panties in a twist”

His comment makes me scoff “you see? Comments like those are why I dumped your ass”. “You're wasted” he says and i laugh “so what”, he sighs “so i'm taking you home, I haven't drank anything tonight”

I shake my head “i'm not going anywhere with you, plus im here with heather”. Now it's steves turn to laugh “heather left with tommy like 15 minutes ago, let me take you home, no funny business, i promise”

I get into his car and we drive in silence and we pass my street “steve that was my street “what the fuck”, he smiles and shakes his head “youre parents would kill you if you showed up this sloshed, and i meant what i said, no funny business”

My eyes burn into him “fine”

I walk into the Harrington home and the memories start flooding in, the good and the bad. Steve guides me to his room and lays me on the bed. “You'll take the bed, I'm staying in the guest room” and explains. “Stay” I basically beg

I make room for him on the bed and he lays next to me. He's taken off his shirt and changed into his pyjama pants and I steal one of his shirts to sleep in.

All I can notice is his pants low on his hips, his toned v line. my thighs press together. The rational part of my brain is trying to talk but all im hearing is ‘blah blah blah’

I can feel Steve's eyes on me,he's right next to me, I feel the heat of his body lingering on mine, the tension is unbearable.

“Fuck it” i mutter under my breath, i straddle steves hips and his eyes widen “what are you doin-” i cut him off by placing my lips on his, he tenses but melts into the kiss, his hands finding my waist.

The kiss heats up as I grind my hips into his. Steve pulls away and I whine. “You are drunk, we can't” he says and i shake my head “i sobered the minute i walked into this house” i say and peck his lips.

Steve contemplates and is at a mental war with himself. He mutters a “fuck it” and smashes his lips back into mine and my hips immediately find his again and he lets out a groan.

“This is such a bad idea” I mutter against his lips. He flips us so he's on top and pushes my shirt up and kisses down my chest and stomach until he reaches the waistband on my underwear. “Steve please we don't have time for that just put it in me” I beg, Steve nods and takes off his sleep plants to reveal his cock.

My mouth waters at the sight “fuck ive missed your cock so much”, steve smirks and takes off my underwear to reveal my glistening cunt. He groans at the sight and lines up his cock with my folds as he rubs the tip of his cock through them.

My back arches as I moan “please steve, no teasing”. He slides it slowly into me and we both moan at the feeling. He allows me to adjust until I give him the okay. He pumps slowly and I wrap my legs around his waist bringing him closer. It shouldn't feel this intimate, I can't hear my thoughts screaming. This is a bad idea.

His thrusts get sloppy. Signalling that he's close and he sneaks his hand down to my clit and starts rubbing at the nub.

Steve cums first, his hips stuttering and he breathes heavily as he cums, I finish seconds after him, my body tensing with pleasure.

As we both come down from our highs, my thoughts run wild, what the hell just happened.

Steve pulls out of me and watches his cum drip out of me. As the post orgasm haze dissipates my eyes widen “steve we forgot to use a condom”

He freezes and panic sets into his face “oh fuck”

[salamandergoo]

@strangerthingswritersguild Prompt: “I can’t lose you”

Carol hit the brakes a little harder than necessary as she pulled up to the Harrington house.  It looked the same way it always did, imposing and empty.  Tommy hissed a curse as he jerked forward.  "Jesus, Care."

"Don't be a wuss."  She reached over to grab her purse from the floor by his feet.  "Come on, you've been dragging your feet all day, it's time to talk to him."

"He's a dick, we don't have to talk to him!"

"He was my friend first and I say we do.  You've been pouting and I miss him."  She hopped out and smoothed down her sweater, hands on her hips as she waited for him to make his way around the truck.  "Come on!"

"I'm coming, fuck."  He was pouting.  Carol rolled her eyes and walked past the familiar BMW and up to the front door.  She knocked firmly three times and waited.  "He's not here, let's go."

She huffed and reached to grab Tommy's arm.  "Give it a second.  God, you're impatient."

She wanted to turn tail and run too.  She'd been best friends with Steve since first grade, when he'd been the quiet kid in the back of the room.  His hair had always been so pretty, she'd thought it was prettier than hers.  She'd started sitting next to him, and they'd been inseparable ever since.  Tommy had come around a year later, and then the three of them were always together.  Until this last week after the creep Byers had knocked Steve around and fucked something up.

She crossed her arms over her chest and rocked on her heels a few times, head jerking up when the door opened.  "You look like shit," Tommy said, voice softer than he usually let it get.

And Steve did kind of look like shit.  His bruises were mostly yellow now, and she could see where he'd been picking the scabs on his lip and nose.  And the bags under his eyes were dark.  She knew he'd use concealer over them when they got bad, when his dad was home for extended periods of time mostly, but she knew his parents weren't due home for another couple weeks at least.  Steve stared at them for a long moment before started to close the door.

"Hey!"  She jerked out her arm and tried to catch the door, hissing when it crushed her fingers against the door frame.  "Ow, fuck!"

The door flew back open, Steve reaching out to cradle her hand in his.  "Shit, I'm so sorry Carrie..."

"It's fine, It's fine."  She grimaced.  It wasn't broken, she'd broken enough fingers and toes as a cheerleader to know that, but it hurt.  "Can I get some ice for this?"

"Yeah, come on."  He glanced at Tommy warily before turning and leading them inside.  They'd been here enough times that she could probably navigate the house blind.  Steve kept it uncluttered enough that she wouldn't even trip.

She took off her shoes at the door, more on instinct than anything else, Tommy copying her.  It was quiet in the house.  They'd usually be laughing or yelling over each other or watching a movie, filling the space with noise.  It felt unsettling.  All the curtains were drawn, making it feel later than late afternoon.  She perched herself on the counter and held out a hand to take the ice pack Steve offered.  She pressed it against her hand and when it was quiet for too long, when it felt like she could hear the throbbing ache in her hand, she jerked out a leg to kick Tommy.  "He has something to say."

"I do?"  He squinted at her and yelped when she kicked him harder.  "Ow, Jesus, okay."  He looked at Steve with the same sour expression he'd been wearing all week.  "I'm sorry.  I'm sorry, okay?  Can we just go back to normal?"

Steve let out a sharp little laugh.  "Go back to normal?  No!  Nothing is normal anymore, man.  We can't just go back to what we were."

"What's that mean?"  Carol frowned, studying him.  "Steve, did something happen?  Is it creepy Byers?"

"No, it's not- Jonathan didn't do anything, okay?"  He grimaced.  "The pictures were creepy, but Nancy forgave him, and like, they were of her, not me, so I guess it's fine."  He crossed his arms in the way that looked like he was hugging himself instead of being angry.  "It want anything he did."

"He beat you up!"  Tommy threw his arms wide, nearly poking Carol in the eye.  "And who cares if that slut forgave him?  She's sleeping with him, of course she did.  You don't have to."

"She's not sleeping with him."  Steve curled in tighter on himself and it looked like he would lash out if they kept poking.  "It was a misunderstanding.  Her little brother is friends with his brother and they'd been looking for him.  She's not a slut, we shouldn't have done that.  I didn't want to do that."

Tommy shoved his hands in his pockets and took them back out, seeming unsure of what to do with them.  He was going to lash out too.  And Carol didn't want that to happen.

"Yeah, okay.  It wasn't cool of us to call her a slut, we fucked up," she conceded.  "Not sure how we got away with that," she admitted.  "I kind of expected Chief Hopper to call Mr. Hagan."

"He was... preoccupied."

"Yeah, yeah, finding the Byers brat, I know."  She narrowed her eyes.  "And Nancy...?"

"I fucked up my chances with her.  Wouldn't be surprised if she never looks at me again.  Or she wants to be friends?  She's giving mixed signals."  Steve untensed just a little.  Good.  That was good.  "I apologized to Jonathan.  I shouldn't have talked shit about his family.  I mean, everyone knows his dad sucked.  And I called him a... well."  Steve leaned against the counter.  "I broke his camera, man."

Tommy frowned.  "He.. had it coming though."

"Maybe.  Maybe.  But it's not like he can get a new one.  It's not like when we broke your bike after running into that fence when we were twelve, like, your parents got you a new one.  Jonathan works so they can pay the gas bill and for groceries, you know?"

Tommy just about snarled until Carol put a hand on her shoulder.  "So now that freak is your best friend?  What about us?"

"What about us, Tommy?  You made it pretty fucking clear that we-"

"Hey."  Carol cut in, holding up her hands.  "Look, you apologized to Byers.  That's fine, you can do that.  But we're trying to apologize to you.  Are we really throwing away the last ten years over this?  We... miss you, Stevie.  We can't lose you, not like this.  We haven't been apart this long since... god, since your parents made you go to New York all summer in middle school."

"I don't want to be an asshole anymore.  I don't like what we've become.  I've been too afraid to lose you guys, but... I can't keep standing by while you spread rumors about the drama geeks or pushing Munson's friends around."

Carol scrunched up her nose.   "It wasn't a rumor, Mandy totally got chlamydia from fucking some dude on vacation, I heard her talking about it in the bathroom."

"And they're fucking dweebs who play that satan game, they don't matter, Steve."  Tommy crossed his arms again, but was notably less agitated.  "And they make fun of us anyway."

"Yes, they do matter.  Okay?  No one's gonna care about who we pushed around in high school once were out of here."  Steve kicked at the ground.  "None of that shit matters, not when-"  He closed his mouth so fast Carol could hear his jaw click.  He shook his head and she leaned in closer.

"Not when... what, Steve?  What happened?"

"I can't tell you."  She almost couldn't hear him.  "I'm not allowed, I... signed these papers."

"That's bullshit."  Carol hopped off the counter.  "Tommy, your dad is a lawyer, anything Steve signed is like, void or whatever."

"That's not how it works."  Tommy took a slow step towards Steve.  "Did someone hurt you?"

"...not exactly."  Steve rolled up the sleeve of his shirt.  There was a stitched up gash in his arm.  "I wish I could tell you.  I can't, though.  They'll... I don't know what they'll do."

Tommy touched Steve's arm, gentler than he was even with Carol.  "Stevie," he whispered.  "We'll... we don't have to be assholes, we can ignore the freaks, okay?"

Steve nodded slowly.  "...okay."

Carol stepped up to Steve's other side and stood on her toes to kiss his cheek.  "What can we do?"

"Nothing."  Steve swallowed and shook his head.  "I just... I want to get through the next few years so we can leave this fucking town."

"Okay."  Tommy pulled him in closer.  "Okay, we'll leave someday.  I promise," he whispered.

Later that night, the three of them tangled in Steve's room like they hadn't been since they were kids, Carol and Tommy made eye contact over Steve's head as he snored softly.  "...thanks," Tommy whispered.  "For making me come over here."

"We weren't going to lose him over something stupid."  Carol shrugged as she held Steve's waist.  "Not after this long."  She sighed.  "Are we really gonna have to, ugh, be nicer?"

"It looks like it.  He's worth it though."

"Yeah."  Carol laid back down with a hum.  "Yeah, he is."

[allyricas]

Thinking about an angsty steddie fic based on the great war...

"My knuckles were bruised like violets, sucker punching walls, cursed you as I sleep-talked. Spineless in my tomb of silence, tore your banners down, took the battle underground. And maybe it was ego swinging, maybe it was her. Flashes of the battle come back to me in a blur."

Steddie secret relationship post Star Court. It starts when Steve goes to Eddie for weed to help with his migraines. They get to know each other and Steve falls hard. Eddie is into Steve too, but refuses to give him any benefit of the doubt, still thinking of him as King Steve.

Eddie wants to open up but struggles to trust him. He's waiting for things to go bad. So he tries to not fall in love. He fails miserably at this.

"You said I have to trust more freely but diesel is desire, you were playin' with fire and maybe it's the past that's talkin' screamin' from the crypt. Tellin' me to punish you for things you never did. So I justified it..."

The upside down would fuck everything up. Eddie assumes the worst and pulls away. He takes Steve hiding things as proof he was right to be cautious. And then everything goes from bad to worse when he watches Nancy make eyes at Steve. She is patching him up and it's inevitable that he'll choose her.

Every doubt, every insecurity feels justified as he watches the boy he swore he wouldn't love run back to Nancy's arms. He knew this would end badly, he didn't think it'd involve an alternative hell dimension and being accused of murder only for the townfolk to start an actual witch hunt.

Losing Steve should be miniscule compared to everything going on, but it hurts worse than all of it combined.

"It turned into something bigger somewhere in the haze, got a sense I'd been betrayed."

The final blow is hearing his boyfriend tell Nancy about his dream to have a brood of Harringtons. To have the white picket heterosexual dream that he can never give him. So, he ices Steve out. When he later hears Steve tell Nancy that she's there, he walks away before Steve can finish.

Yeah, Nancy is there and Robin and the kids. But most importantly so is Eddie. He tells her that she's family, that he already has his family. He wants them to be close without the past hanging over them. And that he is in love with Eddie.

Eddie and Dustin are still the distraction. Steve and Eddie have their awkward little goodbye. Except in this universe, Steve turns back around and kisses Eddie. Tells him to be safe, that he loves him.

Eddie is pissed and confused but he nods. Doesn't respond which breaks Steve's heart. They all barely make it out, Eddie dies several times only surviving because of Steve and Nancy performing CPR and dragging him out of the Upside Down.

Of course, Steve won't leave his side. And when Eddie finally wakes up, Steve just bursts into tears because he almost lost him. Steve is sobbing, saying how much he loves him and Eddie is so confused.

"Looked up at me with honor and truth, broken and blue, so I called off the troops. That was the night I nearly lost you."

He finally just asks Steve about what he overheard. Steve tells him the rest of it and Eddie is now crying too.

Uncle Wayne and the not-so-dead Chief Hopper walk in on them curled up in Eddie's hospital bed. They are kissing, but carefully and they are both still crying but they're together. They made it through and things are going to only get better.

"Always remember, Uh-huh, we're burned for better. I vowed I would always be yours 'cause we survived the Great War."

[imsogonesposts]

Rumors and Gossip

|| ao3 || an: this is part of a series, but each fic can be read on its own || I'm With the Rockstar series Masterlist || steve harrington masterlist ||

summary: The paparazzi and news articles believe you and Steve have broken up. (wc: 753)

“What are you giggling at?” Steve asked, pausing the movie he had been watching on the TV to look at you smiling at your phone on the other side of the couch. He didn’t like having so much space between the two of you- he much preferred when you were sitting right beside him, in his arms- but he was happy enough to be in the same room as you. To be together in the same space despite doing two separate things. Him watching the TV and you scrolling on your phone. It was very domestic to him- and he loved it.

You look up at him, suppressing another laugh as you shrug. “Oh nothing,” you say. “The internet thinks we broke up again.”

He furrows his brows, finally giving in and moving to sit next to you, pulling you into his arms. “Let me see,” he says, kissing the top of your head as you angle your phone towards his direction so he can read the headline. 

MUSICIAN STEVE HARRINGTON SPOTTED WITH NEW MYSTERY GIRL. COULD THIS BE THE END FOR HIM AND HIS HOMETOWN GIRLFRIEND?

Steve can’t help but snort a laugh as he reads the headline, his thumb rubbing absentmindedly on your shoulder as he scrolls through the article, stopping on a paparazzi photo of him and Robin walking into the arcade together.  

“They think I’m dating Robin?” He asks with a loud laugh.

Sources close to the musician claim that he and this mystery girl have been close since his high school graduation. “It wouldn’t surprise me if they were dating,” the source, who wishes to remain anonymous, tells us. “They’re always adjoined at the hip, I just feel bad for his girlfriend- well, ex now, I guess.”

Steve can’t help but laugh again as he presses another kiss to the top of your head. “Crazy, crazy people,” he mutters to the top of your head, smiling when he hears the small laughter coming from you. 

“Oh, that’s not all,” you reply, clicking on another article before handing him your phone. 

MUSICIAN STEVE HARRINGTON’S GIRLFRIEND RUMORED TO BE FOUND WITH A NEW MAN SHORTLY AFTER HIS DATE WITH A NEW GIRL

Shortly after singer-songwriter Steve Harrington was pictured going out with a new girl, his, now rumored, ex has been spotted out with a new mystery man.

Steve scrolls, laughing again when he sees a picture of you and Eddie together, this time entering the local IHOP.

“Wasn’t this when we were all meeting up for dinner?” Steve asks, laughing at your nod. Shortly after the release of Steve’s first album, the entire friend group agreed to meet at IHOP to celebrate. Your car had broken down on your way to the restaurant from your job at the local DVD store, so Eddie had offered to take you, as his job at the music store was right next door and Steve had already left to pick up Robin and Vickie, neither of which had their license, and the kids. Hence, the picture of you and Eddie walking in together.  “Crazy,” he repeats with another laugh. 

“Steve, I didn’t know you were dating Robin,” you joke, “I could have sworn she was dating a girl. And that, you know, you weren’t her type.”

Steve rolls his eyes with a laugh, lightly poking your side causing a laugh to escape you. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” he says, continuing to poke at your side until you successfully manage to swat his hand away. 

He pulls his hand away, raising it in a sign of surrender, before wrapping you in another hug, pulling you on top of him as he lies down on the couch, holding you in a tight embrace. “When is everyone going to realize that I am completely and utterly obsessed with you?” He mutters, a hand softly rubbing up and down your back as he looks up at you. 

You let out a soft hum in response. “I’m not sure,” you tease, moving a hand to brush some fallen hair off his forehead. Even messy, his hair always looked soft, and fluffy, and nice.  “Maybe you should write a song about it.”

“Don’t tempt me,” he jokes, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear before gently cradling your jaw with one hand, the other still softly moving up and down your back. “You know I will,” he whispers, lightly lowering your face down for a kiss. “Might even write an album,” he whispers before finally kissing you. 

[daigina-3]

Passing Notes (In Secrecy)

Chapter 2: I think he likes you

In 7th grade, Steve Harrington likes a girl for the first time. Outwardly, he likes girls when it’s convenient. When it gets his friends off his back, when it makes him looks cool.

This new girl at Hawkins Middle, though? The one with the curly brown hair and dimples and flannels that are too big for her? Steve doesn’t like her to be cool or whatever; she’s just for Steve.

But then the new girl Steve likes isn’t actually a new girl at all.

*

When the bus is out of sight, Eddie walks fast. The gravel crunches under his high tops and his messenger bag thumps against his hip uncomfortably but he only walks faster; starts a slow jog past rows of trailers down to where his uncle (and he, now) lives, towards the end. The bag, heavy with textbooks, is banging against his hip hard enough that it might bruise but he doesn’t care.

He counts the rows as he goes, just like he did all summer and since school started. He knows where the turn is, now, knows he won’t get it wrong but the counting is a habit and Eddie feels calmer for it.

One, two, three with the broken flower pot on the corner, four- turn.

They’d let Eddie finish out seventh grade in his old town- placed him with a foster family for the last two months. He’d spent his nights in some rich family’s house in a plain bedroom made for what was probably a never-ending parade of kids just like him: kids whose parents were in jail or dead or somewhere on the streets with a bottle of beer in their hands instead of with their kid.

He spent a miserable two months, walking around the school halls where everyone stared and whispered and sometimes just asked him outright- why’s your dad in jail, did he kill someone?- only to come back to the fancy big house where he was being kept, with an old couple who probably thought he was poor and gross and weird, and locked himself in that beige room with the tan bed sheets and the white walls with generic posters that said shit like be thankful for every day and hang in there.

The day the social worker had dropped Eddie off at his uncle’s trailer was the first day he felt like he could breath in two months.

The trailer is the same today as it was at the start of the summer when he met his Uncle Wayne; a weathered old couch outside, lawn trimmed neatly every other week, and the screen door that creaks too much.

Steve’s note burns in his hand and when he’s finally outside the front door, breathing heavy, he has the sudden image of Uncle Wayne seeing the note and- even if he would never demand to read it- somehow just seeing it feels like Wayne’ll know exactly what it says.

He shoves it in his pocket and throws open the creaky metal screen door. It slams into the outside wall as he rushes inside and Wayne gives a half-hearted “hey, now, easy!” from the lay-z-boy recliner in the corner.

“Sorry, Wayne! Hi, Wayne- bye, Wayne!”

And then he’s alone, in his room, with a hole burning in his pocket.

Eddie tosses his bag down, the pins clinking against each other, and lets himself just fall on the bed, belly-up.

It shouldn’t feel so weird. It was just a mistake. Maybe even a funny one- a dude giving another dude a love note on accident?

It was hilarious. Right?

He takes the note, so carefully folded up, from his pocket. He smooths it out, holding it under his palms, and presses it flat against his stomach like it's going to try to escape.

Eddie stares at the ceiling, where there’s a hairline crack just above his bed. He traces the shape of it with his eyes and feels the crumpled paper under his fingertips- but doesn’t look. Looking feels damning, but he won’t think about why.

Because to be the new kid who’s poor and a little weird and bad at sports who talks too much and draws cool demons in his textbook that people don’t get- that’s one thing.

His stomach twisting at the thought of a boy giving him a love note on the bus.. that’s another thing. A thing you don’t come back from.

He traces the crack again, counts the number of times he follows the line down and back up again. One, two, three…

He thinks about Steve. He seemed nice. Not just nice like ‘oh, he’s nice.’ But nice like his smile was real. Nice like kids usually aren’t to him- he gets fake smiles and nervous smiles and mean, teasing smiles, but he’s only seen a handful of nice smiles at Hawkins.

He thinks they could be friends.

A picture pops into his head, of him and Steve hanging out at school. Just walking down the hallway, chatting. Smiling. Shouldering past crowds of other kids.

But then the other kids turn, looking at them. They stare at Steve and Eddie and make silent eye contact that turns into whispers, like they know something they shouldn’t just by looking. Like they have x-ray vision and can see right into Eddie’s core.

Something twists in his stomach and he just can’t get that picture out of his head: that as soon as someone sees him and Steve, they’ll see something, know something that Eddie doesn’t. Something scary.

*

He’s nervous on the bus in the morning. Walking past the kids chatting, listening to music, doing last minute homework. Eddie takes his usual seat in the very back, lets out a slow breath when no one even glances his way.

He sees Steve in the hall. Eddie’s on his way to the hall with most of the eighth grade classrooms and Steve the opposite way, towards the seventh grade ones.

Steve’s head is down, eyes trained on some assignment in his hand. And Eddie is just about to look away when Steve glances up, catching Eddie’s eye. He does a double take and smiles when he sees who it is, who Eddie is. It’s a nice smile.

Eddie gives a tiny wave, unclenches his fingers where they’re holding his messenger bag on his shoulder and wiggles them. A short butterfly wave. But it’s enough that Steve’s smile widens just a little, confirmation that he saw Eddie’s wave.

No one turns to point and laugh. No one yells out hey look at that girly freak, no one even notices; half a second and they’re past each other, going their separate ways.

But Steve’s smile stays with Eddie, fluttering around in his stomach.

Maybe everything would be okay.

*

Everything was not okay.

*

“Hey, Eddie,” Carol walks by him while he’s picking at his lunch. She stops like something just crossed her mind, leaning on the table with one hand. “I have something to tell you.”

Eddie looks up- Carol’s only spoken to him a handful of times in class and the hall and twice was to ask if he got his flannel shirt from Goodwill like it was funny. The other times weren’t any better. He wonders if it’s easier to run. “Uh, yeah?”

“See that guy over there?” She points to Tommy, a semi-familiar face. He’s definitely close enough to hear them, just at the next table over.

She’s waiting for him to reply, and he gives her a slow and suspicious ��.. yes.”

“Well- he thinks you’re *really cute*,” her big eyes blink, her tone feigning innocence in that way- that way that says everything without saying *anything.* “He told me that he wants to ask you out.”

Immediately Tommy throws his head back in laughter, his mouth still half full of meatloaf- the guys on either side of him elbow him and give big roaring *ohhh-hos* and Eddie is frozen.

Carol leans closer, her smile twisted. Eddie doesn’t know what she wants him to say. He doesn’t know what he SHOULD say. He wants to run away, he wants to lash out and push her off the table, watch her fall.

He screws up his face and grumbles “shut up.” That’s all he can muster staring down these other kids with a mean look in their eyes. He wishes he could come up with anything else, something cool that will make Carol stunned and sorry and make her go away- but all he can say is “shut up.”

Carol’s eyebrows go up, the picture of innocence. “What? I’m just trying to help you out- he said he thought you were really hot-“

Tommy yells- half laughter half disgust- something about not being a homo but he’s drowned out by the jeers of the others at his table.

“- but maybe he’s not good enough for you,” Carol continues, like she’s wondering aloud to herself. “Do y’hear that Tommy? You’re not Munson’s type. Maybe he’s into guys like Steve-“

Eddie bristles, his face hot with embarrassment. More people a few tables away are looking, turning in their seats and smirking as Carol and the boys make a big show. They don’t even have to say it for everyone including Eddie to know exactly what they’re really laughing at.

Eddie. Eddie the queer, Eddie the gross kid, Eddie the joke. It’s a joke that anyone would want to ask him out. Of course he must be into guys because he’s wrong, something screams wrong about him to anyone with eyes and not only is it gross but it’s Eddie, so it’s fucking hilarious and gross and a joke.

He doesn’t see Steve but he knows this has to be his fault. He started it, he’s the one who gave Eddie that note. That probably was a joke. Try to catch the little girly kid to say he likes guys, because obviously he’s weird and poor and must be queer with that hair- and Steve told everyone and now-

He’s not going to cry in front of these fucking assholes.

“Go away,” Eddie slams his hands and pushes himself away from the table, standing up. The boys across the way ooooh even more.

“Someone’s mad,” one of them smirks.

“She was just trying to be nice, Munson-“

He leaves his tray, shouldering his backpack and booking it out of the lunchroom. He stomps his way down hall after hall, ends up in the bathroom in the old part of the building, the one he knows no one goes in and some of the eighth graders smoke in after school. He slams the last stall door behind him and drops his bag, kicking it into the corner, hopping onto the toilet.

He doesn’t want to cry. He knows crying means they win, they got to him, but his throat feels tight and his lips quiver just a little and before he knows it his head is in between his legs and his vision is blurry with warm tears.

They drop onto his shoes- the new converse high tops his uncle bought him, a present for starting at a new school in a new town and a new home and a new guardian. And now he’s curled up in the bathroom getting his stupid tears all over them.

He skips Math and English, waiting for the red blotches to clear off his cheeks and picking at peeling paint on the wall.

*

When Eddie gets home, his uncle’s on the phone with the office. He can hear his quiet ‘mm-hmm’s, and ‘no, I wasn’t aware- well, the kid’s been goin’ through- I’m sure-‘ as Eddie throws his bag on the floor and beelines for the bathroom. He slams the door behind him and twists the lock for good measure- the lock is only the kind that stops the handle from turning, and the door is old so it doesn’t even really do that. But still, Eddie needs to be alone; would barricade himself in the bathroom if he could.

He rummages under the sink, tossing spare toilet paper and cleaner to the ground until he pulls his uncle’s beard clipper out, clutched in his fist like a weapon.

“Your hair’s real pretty,” Steve had smiled at him on the bus just the day before. Eddie thought that smile had been real; that he was nice.

Eddie was fucking stupid.

He flicks the switch and feels the clippers buzz to life in his hand. His reflection stares back at him, brows low, mouth set- angry angry angry, the anger buzzes in him like the clippers in his hand- he tightens his lips into a thin line, keeping the tears at bay.

The first pass is right down the middle of his head. It feels too easy, like it should get tangled in his hair but it doesn’t. It cuts through it easily, almost too easily. He doesn’t know why, but he expected it to hurt. He almost wishes it did.

The hair starts falling all over his shoulders and the floor, and Eddie doesn’t break eye contact with himself the entire time. You should have known, he tells himself silently. This is your fault. And he passes the clippers again, and again, and now his hair is uneven and messy and several different lengths- but it’s not long anymore. It’s not girly hair. And if he’s lucky, maybe no one will recognize him tomorrow. Maybe they’ll all be stunned into silence. Maybe he can just blend into the background and never be seen again- never be the center of the cafeteria’s attention again.

He wants to disappear, wants to slip down the drain just like his hair.

*

He stays in the bathroom until Wayne bangs on the door like he’s going to break it down. Eddie unlocks it and expects his uncle to yell, to make Eddie clean it up or something.

Wayne sighs when he sees Eddie’s head, the mess of uneven choppy hair. He gestures for Eddie to step out and surveys the damage- hair in the sink, on the counter, the floor, the toilet.

“Get the broom and dust pan, willya?”

He gets it without saying anything and stands there, holding open an empty Walmart bag as Wayne sweeps up the clippings and throws them away.

They’re halfway through when Wayne asks.

“Any particular reason for this? I could have taken you to a barber, ya know.”

He shrugs, his jaw tight. “Dunno. Don’t like my hair. It’s girly.”

Wayne nods.

When they finish, he calls a barber and makes an appointment for tomorrow, Friday at 11AM.

“I have school then,” he mentions when Wayne hangs up.

Wayne only shrugs. “Can’t have you goin’ to school like that. Plus one day of hooky never hurt nobody.”

He could cry. He won’t have to go to school tomorrow, or the day after, or the day after. Three whole days.

He wraps his arms around Wayne’s middle and squeezes tight, a thank you and a sorry.

*

Eddie Munson walks into Hawkins Middle Monday morning with a fresh buzz cut and a permanent scowl. He slaps away any curious hands that reach out to feel his peach-fuzz scalp and takes no shit. He takes so little shit, in fact, that one passing period he gets himself and Tommy Hagan in trouble with the principal. Eddie gets the harsher punishment, of course, even though it was Tommy who kept trying to pinch the skin at the nape of Eddie’s neck and calling him names; when the principal asks what names Tommy called him, Eddie stays silent. Fuck Tommy and fuck the principal who was never on his side, anyway.

He gets detention- his first detention at Hawkins- and sits next to a girl with long black hair and behind a boy with a cropped afro.

They ask Eddie his name- they’ve seen him around, of course- and the girl shows Eddie her sketch book that she was doodling in during 8th grade geometry class, which is what landed her there. Once is a reprimand, but twenty-six times is grounds for detention, she says. Eddie thinks her doodles are cool and says the teachers just hate fun. He wishes he was in geometry instead of algebra.

The boy explains he skipped 7th grade gym too many times because he didn’t like being in the changing room and the PE teacher gave him detention. Eddie knows the feeling.

They smile. Their smiles are nice.

It takes two detentions before Eddie asks if they know what Dungeons and Dragons is- Amy, the girl, does but she’s never played. Jeff doesn’t know it at all, but he likes the sound of dragons and gnomes. They both agree to come over to Eddie’s trailer and read through a dungeon master book he checked out from the library that week.

Steve stays at the table with Carol and Tommy- but Eddie takes to having lunch on the opposite end with Amy, Jeff, and a few other kids. Sometimes he catches Steve looking- during passing period or at lunch. Eddie never has a smile for him.

They don’t talk again. And that’s just fine.

[somewherebetweendisorder]

We'll Do It Together

Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Warnings: angst, angst, angst. talk of self harm and depression

A/N: originally posted to my old blog (basicallybats). this is a heavy fic, so please pay attention to the warnings. if this isn't for you, just skip it. thank you for reading <3

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY, REPOST, OR USE MY WORK IN ANY WAY

~

Everyone has bad days. It's a small fact, one that borders on myth in a broken mind, but you repeat it as if nothing else could ever be true. Everyone has bad days, and some people have good days. Some people have enough of both that they blend together into a halfway decent life, void of some constant edge of panic. You are not one of those people. 

When it rains it pours, the juxtaposition has never been lost on you and follows you like a dark cloud born from its literal verbiage, disheartening, suffocating. The heat of a storm brewing thick around you, promising only bad bad things. 

The walls close in, floor cold and barren beneath your naked feet, the bathroom too small, and too large all at once. Moments ago you were sure you were cracking right in front of Steve. Now, behind the locked door, the tears are dissipating, calming like the ocean, deceptive and wild. Untameable. Like the emotions warring within, bloody and hardened by the years spent compressing it all down, refusing to let it show. 

The bitter gnawing grows, teeth worn and dull, chewing painful, uneven holes through your nerves, craggy and prone to infection. A cursory glance around the tiny bathroom leaves nothing to relieve the itch. You're at work, you really couldn't help anything now anyway, but you'll look. You'll look and wish, taking note of every possible solution. You shake your head, failing to dislodge the thoughts, failing to do anything but rattle your aching head more than it already was. 

You flush the toilet to make this absence believable, just in case anyone, namely Steve, is close enough to hear. Crank the lever on the paper towel dispenser loudly, once twice three times, tearing off the sheet and wadding it up. Guilt pricks your skin at the waste, at the act, at the lies. 

The door opens with a loud squeal, hinges protesting your exit, a loud argument, alerting anyone nearby that you've reemerged. You walk down the main aisle, scanning the store for Steve. He's on his knees, putting the well-loved copy of Back to the Future on the shelf, scooting his bin of movies along the floor as he moves further down to replace the next VHS. He looks up as you hover at the end of the row, eyebrows raised in a silent question, head tilted back to meet your eyes. 

"Everything okay?"

You open your mouth, close it, chew on your lip, enjoying the slight bite of pain, the way the flesh gives beneath the pressure of your teeth. If you bit just a little harder, blood would tease your tongue, copper flooding your senses. It's what you want. Why not give yourself satisfaction? 

Steve waits, concern taking hold of his face with each passing second. He's rising to his feet and stepping closer to you before you know what's happening, hand extended, intent on grasping your own. It would at least, if you didn't jerk back, shocked; aghast. 

"Baby?" He pulls his hand back, fingers limp, rejected, hazel eyes a bit more green in this light. "Y/N?"

"What?"

You can't remember what he asked, eyes stuck on his pocket knife, fixated, wishing it was in your hands. You've done so well today. Woke when your alarm went off, got dressed, made yourself presentable, smiled at every patron who came through the doors today. How delicious your reward would be, sweet little ribbons of pain, earned by your careful performance. You deserve it. Some wild spell falls over you, whispers in your ear to take his knife, use it right here, right now. 

It's that voice that pushes you into his arms. There is no grace, no poise, no tenderness in the way you fall into him. It is all raw emotion, mixed-up thoughts, and tattered nerves, as you run from the darkness propagating in your blood. 

"You're scaring me, baby. What is going on?"

"I am-" You can't finish, words thick and rough, dying on your vocal cords, soundless, a plea to be saved. Like a splinter in your throat, shards of emotion making it impossible to speak, fragments of thought stealing away your breath. "I am unwell, Steve. I'm sick."

"Okay, okay Y/N. What- uh, what hurts? Your head, your stomach?"

You crane your head back, hands firm on his cheeks, demanding as you move his head down so his eyes meet yours with little care. When he takes in your gaze, nearly lifeless, dead, and walking he feels his heart speed up. It's an unnatural pace, beating with the threat of something akin to cardiac arrest. The look in your eyes... He's seen it before. Empty, vacant. It's like you said, you're sick, he can see it now clearly, bleeding into the air around you. 

"No Steve. My brain, it's- I want to hurt myself. Badly. Like I have, like I used to. It's just- Just too much right now. I can't-"

You suck in a breath, winded from that explanation. Tired, like your bones are liquifying, muscles atrophying at an unprecedented rate. You're withering away right before his eyes. And how could he not have noticed sooner? He thinks back as his arms tighten around you, recalling the smiles that he swears reached your eyes, the laughs that bubbled out of you at his shitty jokes, the friendly tone you took with the kids. Where were the signs?

"Okay, baby. It'll be okay. I-"

Steve doesn't know what to say. Who really helped him fight back the unending dark of depression? He still feels it on a bad day, but never like this, never like you. He wants you as close as possible, wishes he could crawl inside your mind and kill all the nasty thoughts, voices that whisper you deserve to hurt, whatever demon makes you crave pain. You're too fucking good for that. 

"I'm sorry."

It's a broken whisper, drawing him fully back to the moment, aware of your tears seeping through his shirt, warm and rapid. "No. No, don't ever apologize. It's nothing I could ever hold against you. It's... We'll face it together."

He wants to hold you gently, tenderly, but his heart won't let him. His arms are tight around you, too tight, but maybe that's okay. Maybe sometimes the most tender thing a person can do is hold you so tight you might break under their grip. 

It seems to work, it keeps you here; how could you run anyway? How could you run when your body is so wracked by sobs, so consumed by deep-seated grief? One you can't explain, you've never known where it came from. It works, Steve's embrace, it keeps you grounded, threatens to bruise in the best way, a hot sort of love seeping into your chilled flesh, thawing something you worried was dead. 

"I don't want you to hurt. I- I get it, I do. But if you can, I would rather you tell me. Talk to me about what is hurting before you-"

"Try to cut it out?"

The words you offer so simply make his chest hurt, ache like there's no air in his lungs and he can't catch his breath. "Yes, before you do that. Please?"

He feels you squeeze him, trying to get closer, trying to explain it all. Words fail you. "I can't promise. But I- I'll try."

"That's all I want, Y/N. Just try. Let me in, let me help if I can. You don't have to do this alone."

Neither one of you is sure who initiates it, but you're both moving to the floor, Steve kneeling, you scrambling messily into his lap, face pressed into his neck, tears slowing but not stopping, right in the middle of Family Video. No one else is here, the day oddly slow, as if time has stopped for this moment. 

Steve doesn't want to let you go. It's a hard sort of love, rough, ragged, nearly ugly in its rawness. But this moment of weakness, this vulnerability, this battle shared between partners is the most tender image he could ever conjure. He wouldn't change it for the world. And he'll be here with you no matter what. 

[chloryn]

a/n || i wrote this when s4 came out, it’s been in the drafts, i may write a part 2, but it’s angsty and i’m all about it.

͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

Robin Buckley has been your best friend since you were 7. She was 6.

In first grade, Robin started walking with you on the way home after classes. She swore it was too scary to do by yourself. She would make sure both of you stayed safe, no matter what.

In third grade, Robin would ask you to sleep over every weekend. She always made sure her dad picked up the best snacks from the grocery store, somehow always remembering your favorite.

In sixth grade, Robin would play her dads cassettes for you. She would point out which songs reminded her of you, and why.

In the ninth grade, Robin started telling you she loved you at the end of a conversation. She hadn't forgotten to since she had started. You said it back, never missing the chance to remind her.

Going into tenth grade was hard, Robin had told you over the summer she couldn't hang out with you anymore. It was in your backyard, somewhere between the early morning hours. She was blunt about it, telling you she just wanted space. She didn't tell you how bad you were, or how you had hurt her, she just gave you a little wave and took to the sidewalk.

Tenth grade had gotten easier though, you had separated yourself from her almost entirely. Robin was her own person and so were you. You had even made a new friend.

Well, kind of. Eddie wasn't supposed to be your friend.

You were just helping him with English, and then you and then you started hanging out with him after class. Which had eventually spiraled into spending most days after school in his trailer.

He taught you everything about his guitar, and he let you sit in during hellfire. He had even asked if you wanted to join, and after you had declined the offer he had of course acted broken-hearted. 'You've wounded me!' What ever will I do without you y/n?'

Eddie had taught you more than that though, he had taught you that being yourself was what mattered at the end of the day. Eddie was the first person you ever told, and he sat there and listened. He really listened, not that fake bullshit you were expecting, he wanted you to trust him with your story.

So you told it, down to every last detail. You kept her for last though, savoring the way Eddie's eyes shot open at mention of her name.

"Robin Buckley?"

*Yeah," you laughed it off, "she was the world to me,

"Why?” he paused,

"why don't you guys- uh?" He motioned his hands, unable to find the words.

"I think she knew, 'ya know?" A bittersweet smile finding its way to your lips, "She wasn't- you know? Into me like that."

Eddie nodded, "Steve Harrington.”

"Huh?"

"He was mine,"

[strangerthingsfan-fics]

Out Hellfire Steve Harrington x Fem!mayfield reader

Warnings-crying,swearing,former reader x Eddie,kissing,mentions of breaking up,smoking drinking,if there’s anymore tell me

You and Eddie broke up a couple of months back now but you and Eddie stayed friends well that’s what you thought

It has been aqward at times like when Eddie bought Chrissy Cunningham which made you feel lower down not perfect like Chrissy

You was walking towards the hellfire club table where the entire of Hellfire was sat and Chrissy on eddies lap he moved on quickly but then you overheard what they was talking about

“Guys I’ve been thinking for a while and I’ve finally decided that yn mayfield is kicked out Hellfire she won’t be playing with us anymore”Eddie announced to the table

You walked to the toilets and got changed into the black shirt you had under you Hellfire club shirt you walked back and passed it to Eddie and he looked at you in disbelief to make it look like you was quitting

“I heard you was kicking me out so here instead of you telling me here’s the shirt I hope you find a new member and I wish you all great look I’ll see you around school maybe” you smiled the smile full of pain and tears prickling from the corner of your eyes

Eddie nodded Dustin Lucas and Mike all felt bad you was there best friends older sister now it’s gonna be aqward between the younger kids that was apart of the group

“I never really liked yn I only did it because you liked her munson” gareth admited

You walked out to the basketball court to see max sat there watching Billy Steve and all the basket ball players playing basketball you sat next to your younger sister still tears prickling out your eyes

You lifted your knees up to your chest to try make yourself feel small your younger sister maxine ‘max’ mayfield noticed you upset and shouted your older step brother and your best friend over

Your step brother Billy put his hand on your shoulder “shit face what’s up” Billy asked with the nickname shit face you’ve had from him for a while

“Nothing I’m fine” you mumbled

“Your not wearing your Hellfire shirt what’s happend” Steve asks

“They kicked me out eddie said it’s awqward since we’ve been broken up but it never affected him till chrissy joined” you said quitley

Eddie and the whole of Hellfire was walking past and Eddie saw you crying and was hearing the words you spoke

“It’s like when we broke up all over again it’s rather he stops loving me or he dosent like me the exact same as when we broke up that he stopped loving me am I even worth anything to Hellfire or anyone” you was crying

“Your worth a lot to the basketball team me Billy max Nancy Mike will El Lucas Dustin so yea you are worth to Hellfire and anyone” Steve said

You nodded your head and steve max and Billy wrapped there arms around you eddie felt like a total jerk now causing him to run away in the middle of the night when everybody got reports about it and you was awake you got changed and began walking out the house to steve Billy max trying to stop you

Even though at the moment you hated him you couldn’t let your ‘friend’ disappear just like Barb did your gonna look for him even though you hate him with all your heart and body

The three chased after you and you walked in the boat house your hand accidentally holding Steve’s Billy and max actually getting along when you knocked the tarpauling and Eddie came out you screamed when he grabbed you by the neck

“Get the fuck away” Eddie snapped

When Eddie said that it reminded you of when you was dating and it started turning toxic and arguments everyday before you broke up

You yellped making Eddie know it’s you only because of the help of fear you pushed Eddie off of you falling into Steve’s arms

Everything came more and more aqward when you and Steve started dating and Eddie saw you running to Steve and dodging Eddie to hug and kiss Steve guess eddie got jelous that he lost you

[steddiealltheway]

I feel so bad for Steve. Because everyone he surrounds himself with are so highly intelligent. Like not even just smart, they’re off the charts gifted type kids.

And they all think Steve is so dumb. Like, yes he couldn’t get into Tech, but that doesn’t mean he’s the dumbest person to exist. And I especially hate how much they lean into that in season four.

But then Eddie comes along, Eddie who is redoing his senior year for the third time, and he sees Steve.

He recognizes how much the kids and his friends berate him for his ideas and thoughts. And he can’t help but feel the need to reach out and acknowledge how great he really is. That he has qualities other than the great intelligence his friends possess.

And he tries to make sure that Steve knows that it’s alright that he doesn’t know stuff. Like he doesn’t know Ozzy, and that’s okay. He just explains it and moves on to his main point.

He doesn’t get upset when Steve doesn’t understand something. He just slowly explains it to him in multiple ways until he understands - he loves the look Steve gets when he has a lightbulb moment. (Eddie later gives Dustin a speech on patience)

Later on, when Eddie is explaining something to Steve, he doesn’t nod back or ask questions like he usually does. He just stares at Eddie’s lips.

“Steve…?”

Steve hums and quickly looks away from his lips, a blush spreading over his cheeks.

“Are you listening to a word I’m saying?” Eddie asks slightly amused. Steve doesn’t respond. His mouth opens and closes a few times.

“You can ask me anything, Steve.”

Steve looks at him and swallows loudly. He runs a hand through his hair and asks, “Have you… have you every had feelings…” Steve trails off and heavily sighs. He starts again, “Can… can people… like… girls and… boys?”

Eddie stares at Steve incredulously and explains, “Yes. They can. It’s called bisexuality.”

“Bisexuality,” Steve parrots.

Eddie nods. Steve seems to grasp the concept quickly, but Eddie can feel that he has more to say. He remains silent.

Eddie doesn’t push it, so he goes back to explaining what he was before.

A few weeks later, Eddie makes his usual Friday night stop at Family Video right before closing. He notices almost all the lights are already off inside, but the door is unlocked. He makes his way inside and winces as he hears Steve’s voice carry from the back room.

“I can’t tell him!”

“Steve, you’re an idiot if you don’t,” Robin says. Eddie winces.

“That’s exactly it! I’m a fucking idiot. I’m an idiot who goes to see him weekly so he can explain the dumbest things to me! And you want me to tell him what? That I have feelings for him?! Me, Steve ‘the dingus’ Harrington loves Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson?!”

His voice gets louder by the end as the door to the back room opens up.

Eddie makes eye contact with Steve. He freezes.

“Why’d you stop, Dingus?” Robin asks pushing past him. She looks at Eddie. “Shit.”

Eddie and Steve continue staring at each other.

“Well,” Robin says awkwardly, “I’m just gonna…” she gathers her stuff up from the counter and walks towards the front door, “Hey, look. Nancy’s here to pick me up. So that’s great. You two uhh… have a good time. Later…” she salutes the two of them and exits.

Eddie continues staring at Steve who hasn’t broken eye contact with him since he’s seen him.

“Steve…” Eddie breaks the silence.

“Don’t do that,” Steve begs.

“Do what?”

Steve breaks, “Talk to me like that! You’re not supposed to use that tone. You’re not supposed to treat me like I’m stupid. And I know I am. But you weren’t supposed to find out about my… my feelings. Because I’m an idiot. And you would never date an idiot. No one loves a fucking idiot.”

Eddie jumps over the counter and rushes into Steve’s personal space, grabbing his hands. “Steve, I have never thought you were dumb. You’re not. You never have been. But right now, for once, you’re being an idiot.”

Steve’s hands snap away from Eddie’s. “What?”

“You, Steve Harrington, are an idiot for thinking that I wouldn’t fall for you. That I haven’t already.”

Steve stares at Eddie and shakes his head.

“I like you,” Eddie explains. It clicks in his head that sometimes Steve is a visual and kinesthetic learner. So he does the one thing he can think of and cups Steve jaw and brings him slowly in.

Steve’s hands make their way into his hair and pull him the rest of the distance. The kiss is sweet and gentle and full of promise.

Steve breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against Eddie’s. He huffs out a laugh, “Was that your way of explaining to me that you like me?”

“Did it work?” Eddie asks.

“Yes.”

[sparkle-fiend]

Truth or Dare, part 2

Continued from this post, inspired by a prompt by @kedreeva

———————-

Eddie watches Robin jump up to chase after her best friend. Everyone else is left staring, wide-eyed and stunned into silence. It makes his skin itch.

He exhales into his cupped palm and takes an exaggerated sniff. “Guess I shouldn’t have had those onions for lunch, huh?”

It doesn’t get much of a laugh. With a shrug, he drops back down to his place on the floor, folding his long legs underneath him. He feels off-balance, caught off guard. He wasn’t expecting Steve to react that badly.

He plucks at his jeans, worrying the frayed edge of the hole over his right knee, and chances a glance at Gareth. His friend is staring at him with one eyebrow raised pointedly, as if to say See? I told you so.

Which is true. Gareth has been trying to convince him to stay away from Steve Harrington ever since the first day he walked into Eddie’s hospital room and found the other boy sitting by his bedside. Eddie slouches, shoulders curling inward as he looks away. The hole in his jeans starts to unravel a little wider.

Vickie looks uncomfortable. “Should we go after them?”

Gareth snorts rudely. Jeff, ever the peacekeeper, shoots him a warning look and says, “I think maybe we should keep playing. I’m sure they’ll come back when they’re ready.”

The only one that comes back is Robin, sliding into her place in the circle with downcast eyes. Vickie leans over to whisper something in her ear, and Robin shakes her head. She’s clearly upset. 

“Steve just had a, uh… migraine. It came on really quickly, so he had to go home.”

She is such a bad liar.

They try to keep playing a few more rounds, but nobody’s heart is in it anymore. Claire is the first to leave, muttering goodbye to Vickie and ignoring the rest of them. It’s pretty clear she was only suffering their presence to try and get close to Steve.

Good riddance, Eddie thinks with a sneer. He’d barely restrained himself from dumping punch all over the presumptuous little flute player. She really had some nerve - allll the girls had a crush on King Steeeeeve…

Nauseating.

Vickie makes a show of checking her watch next. “I guess it is getting late. My mom wanted me home by 11.”

“Yeah, we should go too,” Eddie says. He waves goodbye to the girls and heads for the door at a fast clip, the rest of the guys following without question.

It seems cooler outside, away from the press of bodies and the stifling air – thick with the scent of sweat and alcohol. Eddie takes a deep breath. Someone’s been smoking nearby, which makes him crave a cigarette of his own.

“I don’t think we should drive yet,” Jeff says. “That punch was pretty strong. Why don’t we walk down to the diner and get some fries?”

It’s a good idea, so they set off down the sidewalk. Gareth waits for Dave and Jeff to pull ahead a little before drifting close enough to nudge Eddie’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry about that man. I really hoped he would prove me wrong, but…”

Eddie nods, fishing the crumpled pack of Camels out of his back pocket. Steve’s not the guy Eddie thought he was – it’s disappointing, to say the least. If that was his reaction to kissing a guy on a dare, then god knows how he would respond if he ever found out Eddie’s gay.

“Yeah,” he mumbles as he clamps a cigarette between his lips, patting his pockets for his lighter.

“But hey, at least you know he’s not worth your time now, right? Better to find out before you fell ass over tits and got your heart broken.”

Too late for that Gare-bear… too late for that.

“Sure.”

Eddie smokes his cigarette, avoiding any further conversation. When they reach the diner, he orders some cheese fries, picking off the crispy bits of cheese before he starts shoving food around the plate to make it look like he’s eating. The guys chat about band practice and the summer D&D campaign, but Eddie doesn’t have much to add.

He keeps replaying the Truth or Dare game in his head. He’s positive he didn’t let anything slip. Eddie is an experienced DM – he’s good at controlling his expressions. He never gives anything away when his players do something to throw him off guard; and he’s sure he didn’t give anything away tonight. So it can’t be his inconvenient crush that made Steve uncomfortable.

Everything was lighthearted and casual… and Steve seemed okay with it at first. Shit, the way he was staring at Eddie’s mouth and licking his lips, it almost seemed like he was into it. Eddie nearly lost it at that point – he had to cover by pretending to swoon when he felt himself start to blush.

Then Eddie moved in for the actual kiss, and Steve pushed him away. He looked at Eddie with this… awful expression on his face and said he couldn’t do it. 

Eddie assumed at the time that Steve lost his nerve and got grossed out. But when he pictures the look on Steve’s face in that moment, it doesn’t seem right. What was that expression?

The guys finish up and they all pay for their food. Gareth is clearly still concerned, shooting worried little glances his way as they walk, so Eddie stays between Jeff and Dave on the way back to the cars.

He appreciates his friend’s concern, and he knows Gareth means well, but he really just wants to go home and lick his wounds in private.

Eddie makes it to his van and takes off while Jeff and Gareth are debating whose turn it is to drive Dave home. He cranks the stereo louder than usual, trying to drown out his thoughts with some Black Sabbath, singing along until his voice cracks. His ears are still ringing a little when he creeps into the silent house, navigating by the light Wayne left on in the kitchen.

With the money from the government payout, his uncle doesn’t have to work nights anymore – which means for the first time in his life, Eddie has to be careful not to wake the old man up when he comes home late. He kicks off his Reeboks at the door and tiptoes up the stairs, skipping the creaky step.

He goes through his nighttime routine on autopilot: brushing his teeth, massaging lotion into all his scars, and braiding back his hair. To prevent split ends - a tip he got from Steve “the Hair” Harrington himself (Eddie can’t escape him – thoughts of Steve permeate every aspect of his life at this point).

He changes into an old pair of pajama pants and flops onto the bed, arms and legs stretched out like a starfish. Sleep, he thinks, shutting his eyes firmly. Sleep, sleep, sleep.

Thirty minutes later, he’s still staring up at his shadowed ceiling.

Steve looked… sad. That’s what it was. He looked sad and pained when he said, “I can’t do this.” And he said something else…

Not like this.

Not like this? But that… would imply it was the situation that was the problem. Right? Not the kissing. 

“Holy shit!” Eddie yelps, sitting upright so fast his side twinges. He claps a hand over his mouth to prevent any further outbursts. 

He assumed the worst, because that’s what he always does – better to be prepared then disappointed; that’s been his motto for years. But Steve didn’t storm off because he was homophobic.

He wanted to kiss Eddie! He must have – just not in front of all their friends. Not as part of a game, or as a joke. 

Eddie jumps out of bed and starts to pace, filled with a restless, almost manic energy. He’s worried about Steve - wishing he’d gone after the other boy right away, at the party. Is he still upset? He looked upset.

Eddie considers the phone – he even picks up the receiver and starts to dial Steve’s number, before he gets a grip and hangs up. It’s 2 o’clock in the morning, he can’t call this late; Steve would probably panic and assume someone had been hurt. 

When he can’t take it anymore, Eddie decides to go for a drive. He grabs Wayne’s keys instead of his own – the truck is quieter than his old rattletrap of a van, and less conspicuous. He drives aimlessly, taking random side-streets and circling cul-de-sacs; only to wind up in front of Steve’s house.

There are lights on inside.

Eddie pulls into the driveway and parks the truck. He contemplates the house for a while, nearly changing his mind twice before he finally gets out and makes his way to the front door. He knocks – not too loudly, just in case Steve is sleeping (even though the lights are on). 

It takes less than a minute for Steve to come to the door; long enough for Eddie to realize he’s still in his pajamas – too fast for him to chicken out and run back to the truck.

Steve looks exhausted: his hair is messier than Eddie’s ever seen it before, and the soft skin around his eyes appears swollen and tender. It hurts Eddie’s heart to see it.

Steve watches him cautiously. “Eddie? What are you doing here – is everything okay?”

“You said… not like this,” Eddie says abruptly. He cringes at the blunt approach – he’s usually better at thinking on his feet than this.

“Eddie…”

“I just want to understand Steve. Please? What did you mean?”

Steve gnaws at his bottom lip before sighing heavily. “I like you Eddie. Like, romantically. I’ve wanted to kiss you for weeks now. But I couldn’t do it… if it wasn’t for real.” He drags his hands roughly through his hair, mussing it up even more. “I’m so tired of being King Steve – pretending like meaningless sex and drunk make outs are enough, falling in love with people who don’t love me back… I can’t do it anymore.”

Eddie is reeling. He doesn’t know what to focus on first. Steve likes him? Romantically?! And he’s wanted to kiss him for weeks. Eddie might need to sit down.

Steve is chewing at his lip again – he’ll draw blood if he keeps it up. He looks so hesitant, so uncharacteristically insecure. 

Because you’re standing here like an idiot after he spilled his heart out to you, Eddie thinks. Say something!

“Steve… Truth or Dare.”

“What?”

“Pick one.”

Steve looks like he’s thinking about shutting the door in Eddie’s face. Finally he says, “Truth,” in a grudging tone.

According to the game, Eddie should ask Steve a question. But Steve has been truthful enough tonight – it’s Eddie’s turn now. 

“I’ve wanted to kiss you a lot longer than just a few weeks. Probably since I saw you tear that demobat apart. But it was in the hospital - when you came to visit every day, looking after me and Max and the rest of the kids – I think that’s when I fell in love.”

The tiniest little, “Oh,” escapes Steve’s mouth. Eddie has a few seconds to worry that the love confession was too much - and then a smile replaces Steve’s look of shock, dawning bright and beautiful.

There’s no more pretense required when they come together, lips meeting softly.

Eddie is so glad that Steve stopped him at the party. Because now they have this moment, this perfect moment – standing in the silvered dark, two souls alone together under the moon. He gets to enjoy the warm press of Steve’s lips against his without any prying eyes or teasing; gets to slide his fingers daringly under the hem of Steve’s thin sleep shirt.

Steve breaks the kiss with a gasp of laughter when Eddie hits a ticklish spot just below his ribs. They pause to smile at one another, foreheads pressed together.

“Truth or Dare,” Steve says.

“Well, truth has been a pretty good choice so far…”

Steve reaches up to press a gentle palm against Eddie’s cheek, scraping his thumb over the stubble. “I love you too.”

Truth or Dare is officially Eddie’s new favorite game.

————————-

Tag list (I tried to include everyone that requested a tag - apologies if I missed anyone)

@manycoloureddays @vecnuthy @remuslupinisthevoiceofgod @proficientatfreakness @sadcanadianwinter @farfaras @makewavesandwar @grtwdsmwhr @xwildangel @electrick-marionnett @swimmingbirdrunningrock

[forever-rogue]

Kiss Me With Your Fist

AN | Alright kids, buckle in. We’ve got some friends-to-lovers-to-exes-to-?? goodness here. Enjoy!🥰

Warnings | Language

Pairing | Steve x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 5.9k

Masterlist | Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“So…you’re telling me that you’re dropping lunch off…for Steve,” Robin looked between the brown paper bag you’d set on the counter and you, blinking rapidly a few times, “Steve Harrington?”

“You are definitely overthinking this, Robs,” you offered her a small smile as you pushed the bag towards her, “he’s still my best friend, and he still needs to eat. I know he gets spacey about remembering to grab lunch so I wanted to make sure he had something.”

“But you’re not dating anymore…” her voice dropped slightly, as a strange look crossed her features. You swallowed thickly, willing the stinging at the back of your eyes to go away, “w-why are you still friends with him?”

“I know it seems weird,” you shrugged lightly, “and maybe it is…but I dunno. Steve has been my best friend since we were just kids. We tried dating, and apparently we aren’t in love with each other. We just love each other…as friends. And that’s…umm, okay.”

“He broke up with you-”

“It was kind of mutual-”

“Hmm, pretty sure it wasn’t,” she insisted as you bit the inside of your cheek. Yeah, no, she was totally right. Steve had broken up with you, but it hadn’t been…that bad. Alright, if you were being honest with yourself, it was that bad. But he hadn’t done it in a mean or harsh way, in fact the way he broke up with you was almost…gentle. You cried, unable to stop yourself, but what you hadn’t seen was how he broke down in tears as soon as he’d left your house. You offered Robin a tight lipped smile before shrugging lightly, “babe-”

“It’s okay. We’re friends…we’ll always be friends,” you promised softly while your heart told a different story, “please just…make sure he gets it.”

“Yeah,” she gave your hand arm a gentle squeeze as you walked out of Family Video, head down as tears threatened to run down your cheeks. Robin watched you go with a frown, unsure of just what she should do…she wished she could do something for her friends. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Blake Anderson was…fine. He was completely and utterly fine. And that was both the problem and upside of being on a date with someone like him. He was handsome in that typical ex-jock type of way, he was decently interesting and actually asked you questions and didn’t make the conversation all about him, he didn’t force a kiss on you, instead giving you a polite hug. He’d paid for dinner, insisting that since he asked you he was going to pay, he’d picked you up and dropped you off at home. Realistically, he should have been a dream.

But in reality, he wasn’t anything that you wanted. Because he wasn’t Steve.

A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you watched him drive away until he was out of the neighborhood, before walking up the driveway. You were almost at the door, but a voice calling out your name caused you to pause and turn around. 

There was Steve, standing across the street in front of his house, watching you intently. There had been so many upsides to living across the street from your best friend; these days more often than not it felt like a bunch of downsides.

“Hey,” he quickly jogged across the street, and you couldn’t help but laugh when you noticed that he was in his slippers, and sleep clothes. You offered him a small smile as he stopped in front of you, his whole face lit up, “was that…Blake? You went on a date with Anderson?”

“Yeah,” you shrugged lightly, scratching at the back of your neck awkwardly. You really did not want to have this conversation, “he…ugh, asked me out when we ran into each other at the store. Figured, why not, you know? He was nice, but a little boring. But he didn’t try anything and didn’t make me feel uncomfortable so I guess that’s good.”

“Are you going to see him again?” the question spilled from his lips before he could even process it. Your face fell for a moment before you studied your shoes.

“I dunno,” you admitted honestly, “maybe, probably. He’s fine.”

“Fine?” he snorted humorlessly, “is that the standard these days?”

“Stevie,” you sighed lightly as you gnawed on your bottom lip. Steve’s heart skipped a beat at the sight, “can we not talk about this right now? I-I don’t really wanna talk about it.”

“Y-yeah, sure,” he agreed, the corner of his mouth ticking up ever so slightly. He could see the grimace on your face and hated knowing he was the reason for it, “no, it’s ugh…my fault. Sorry. I just wanted to thank you for bringing lunch. I totally forgot when I was running late this morning.”

“I know,” you whispered softly as his brows furrowed in confusion, “I saw your car when I was leaving for work and I just kind of assumed you were running behind. I just figured lunch would be nice.”

“It was,” his heart constricted at your words, at the fact that you always took notice of such things, at the fact that you still displayed so much love and affection for him. For you it might have been a simple little thing, but to him it meant everything, “thank you.”

“It’s no problem, Stevie.”

“Game night - it’s ugh, at the Byers’ this week,” he said almost nervously as he tucked his hands into his pockets, “wasn’t sure if you’d heard yet. I…I guess I’ll see you there?”

“I don’t think so,” you could feel his eyes practically burning into you as you shook your head lightly, “I-I think I’m busy that night. I’ll probably just…skip for now.”

“O-oh, right. Yeah, that makes sense.”

“Yeah, it’s…” you shrugged before taking a step back, looking anywhere but his eyes. You’d break down completely if you did, “I’m gonna head inside, it’s getting late…I’ll see you around, Steve.”

“Sweethe-” he stopped himself but you felt his fingers wrapped gently around your wrist, “is everything alright?”

“Of course,” everything was most definitely not alright. Not when you were still so in love with him, but pretending that you were okay with just being best friends as you had always been, “just tired.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” your promise was weak and he could see right through it, “good night, Steve.”

“Good night,” he watched you shuffle towards the door, watching to make sure you got inside safely before he turned around to walk back across the street. If he were a better man - a stronger man - he would have run after you and apologized for every hurt he’d ever caused. 

Instead, he walked back to his dark and empty house, ready to spend another night alone.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Hey Henderson,” Steve offered his young protege a wave and smile as he stepped into the living room already crowded with his gaggle of children and friends. Dustin’s face lit up happily as he greeted him in return, but his gaze quickly drifted to over his shoulder, “what?”

“Where is she?” Dustin asked as he stood up and moved Steve to look around behind him for any sight of you, “Steve?”

“Who?”

“Bullshit,” he sighed heavily, “you know exactly who. I thought she was coming with you? She…she always comes.”

“She’s…busy tonight,” he shrugged it off but the young boy wasn’t buying it. This was the first game night in almost a year that you’d missed. You always came with Steve, before you dated, during, and then after. Until now, “I don’t know man, call her yourself and ask.”

Dustin sighed heavily as he shook his head. He reached up and put his hand on Steve’s shoulder, “I hope you realize how much you fucked up.”

“Whoa - language!”

“Grow up,” Dustin rolled his eyes, “I still can’t believe you broke up with her. Biggest mistake ever. Everyone knows, everyone agrees.”

“Do you think it was easy for me?” he ran a hand through his hair, sighing in exasperation. 

“Do we think what was easy for you?” Eddie popped up behind him, popping a handful of dry cereal in his mouth that he proceeded to chew loudly. Steve rolled his eyes dramatically; why did all of his friends have to have such wonderful timing? 

“Look, I’m not going to do this right now-”

“Yeah you are,” Dustin grabbed his arm and started to drag him outside to the backyard where there would have been at least some minimal privacy, Eddie in tow, “you’ve both been off for weeks, ever since you broke up with her. Clearly it wasn’t the right decision so why don’t you just fix it?”

“I can’t just fix it, Henderson,” he hissed through gritted teeth, “I need you, all of you, to understand that I did it for a reason -  a good reason.”

“No way in hell, or the upside down or whatever, could there be a good reason for that. She had you whipped, Harrington,” Eddie agreed with his young friend, “you worship the ground she walks on.”

“I did it to protect her,” he almost shouted after listening to Eddie and Dustin go back and forth. The two of them looked at Steve in confusion before turning back to each other. It was an answer that made sense…but also didn’t make sense at the same time, “everything I do - I do for her. I-I know it doesn’t seem like it and that I’m the bad guy, but that’s the truth. There - happy now?”

“How does breaking up with her…protect her?” Dustin was confused as he tried to make sense of the answer, “all it’s done is cause you both to be miserable, even if you’re pretending to be fine. We can all see it, Steve.”

“Yeah Stevie,” Eddie crossed his arms over his chest as he sighed deeply, “explain to us simpletons what you mean.”

“She…she shouldn’t have gotten involved in any of the shit we’ve been dealing with for the last few years,” he sighed, “I never meant to let her get involved but I did.”

“You do realize it was inevitable, right?” Eddie laughed lightly, surprised at Steve, “that girl would follow you to hell and back and with a moment of hesitation. She did do that, actually. There was no chance that you’d ever be able to keep anything from her. You’re her world, Harrington, it doesn’t take a genius to figure that out.”

“I never wanted…never wanted her to have to see any of this or live through it,” he scrubbed a hand over his tired face, “look at all we’ve been through. I mean - fuck, we almost lost you, Eddie. I can’t even imagine…if anything had happened to her.”

“But it didn’t-”

“But it so easily could have,” he sighed, “all it would have taken was one wrong move from any of us and something could have happened. We barely got out of there.”

“You can’t think like that man,” Eddie, the one who had been through the brunt of it along with Max, knew better than anyone, “look, I don’t know man, I’m not good at this shit, but it’s easy to tell when two people are in love with each other. You’d do anything for her, she’d do anything for you. Yeah, the world is scary and fucked up, more than I’d thought before all of this, but there are some things worth taking the risk for. You just have to decide what those things are. But I think you already know.”

“She won’t even look me in the eyes anymore,” his shoulders slumped before he threw up his hands in exasperation, “I don’t think she even wants to be my friend anymore.”

“You’re so stupid sometimes,” Dustin shook his head as Eddie high fived him, “she’s trying to keep her distance because of her feelings. Because she loves you, but she wants to respect the boundaries you put in place. Even if you wanted to keep her safe, if something ever came up again, she’d be right there to keep you safe. Essentially, what you’ve done is pointless and just hurt both of you.”

“Okay, since when are you a relationship expert?” Steve was trying to deflect the fact that what Dustin was saying was true, “I-I don’t know what to do. I think I threw away everything.”

“Talk to her man,” Eddie insisted as though it was the obvious thing in the world. It was, “at least explain everything to her and let her make the choice of whether or not she wants to be your friend or whatever.”

“I don’t know,” he looked at his feet and let out a long shaky breath, “what if I-”

“Hurry up, idiots! We’re starting,” Robin poked her head outside and motioned for them to come inside so they could properly start game night. Eddie and Dustin gave Steve pointed looks as he groaned internally. They were right - that was the worst part of it all.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was a quiet night at Family Video, and Steve and Robin had made the most of it by playing a bunch of mindless little games. When the phone rang, it ended up being a moment of excitement, rather than annoyance as it would have been otherwise. Steve almost jumped as he grabbed the receiver and pressed it to his ear, “Family Video.”

“Stevie?” your voice was shaking as goosebumps covered his skin. His heart started to beat wildly as he thought of all the possible reasons you could have been crying, “I-I-I’m sorry. I know you’re working but..I-”

“Baby,” he whispered softly without even thinking about it, “where are you? What happened?”

“I-I’m downtown. Near Enzo’s,” you wiped away the tears that had rolled your cheeks, “I…you know what, it’s okay. I’m okay. I-I’ll figure it out.”

“No,” he insisted firmly. He quickly asked for a more specific location, committing it to memory, already reaching for his keys, “stay right there, baby. I’ll be there in a few minutes, okay?”

“Thank you,” you whispered softly as he offered you a few more words of reassurance. You hung up the pay phone, cursing yourself for calling him but glad at the same time you did. He was the first person that came to mind, the one person you could always turn to, the one person that would always be there for you. 

You sat down on the bus bench near the payphone as you waited for him, nervous to see him. It had been almost a week since you’d seen him face to face, making up any excuse not to see him and trying your best to avoid him. And yet…you still found yourself calling him.

It was less than ten minutes when his familiar car pulled up to the curb and he almost jumped out of the driver’s side. He ran over to you, dropping to his knees in front of you as he reached up and tenderly took your face in his hands. Your eyes were glossy with tears and he delicately wiped the ones that pearled up away. 

“What happened?” his voice was soft and gentle, almost as if he was worried about scaring you away, “tell me so I can make it better.”

“I shouldn’t have called you,” you whimpered as you squeezed your eyes shut, “you were working and you hate me now and everything’s all wrong.”

“Yes, you absolutely should have called me,” he was going to ignore the aching in his chest at yours, chalking them up to whatever you were going through, “I want to always be the first person you call. What happened - please tell me.”

“I was on a date, some guy named Ryan,” your shoulders shook with effort as you tried to keep some composure, “and he asked if I wanted to go home with him and I said no because I knew he just wanted to have sex. He got mad when I said no and he…tried to touch me but I told him to stop and that I didn’t want to go home with him and h-he started to yell at me and told me to get out of the car and he just drove away.”

“Fuck,” his blood was boiling in his veins as all he could see was red. But underneath all the anger was the pain and hurt he felt at what you had just been through, “I will deal with him later, but first I’m going to take you home. Did he-”

“No,” you sniffled, “I got him to stop before he did anything. I feel so stupid…he seemed so nice and then he just completely changed.”

“None of this is your fault,” he whispered as stroked your cheek, “don’t ever think that. Come on, let me take care of you.”

“Stevie-”

“Shh,” he whispered, brushing a few stray locks of hair out of your face. He stood up, pressing a kiss to your forehead before helping you to your feet and into the car. 

The drive back to your house was silent, only the radio playing faintly in the background as you stared out the window. Steve had been half tempted to put his hand on your thigh, like he had done countless times in the past, but didn’t want to worry you or push you. 

When he pulled into your driveway, he came around and opened your door, holding your hand as he took you to the door. You expected him to leave once you were inside, but that thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. He gently took the keys from your shaking hands and unlocked the door, stepping inside and turning on the light before holding the door open for you. 

You followed him inside as he led the way to your bedroom, and everything almost felt normal. He turned on your bedside lamp before gesturing for you to sit down on the bed. 

“I’m going to run a hot bath, okay?” he asked but it wasn’t even a question. You nodded as you watched him go into the ensuite bathroom, slowly pulling off your heels and attempting to shed the dress that now felt all wrong. You heard him run the water before smelling the familiar scent of your favorite bubble bath. The memory of all the times in the past that he had done this for you caused a small smile to appear on your face. 

He popped back into your room, holding out his hand to you. There was a moment when you considered not taking it, but you could never do that. Instead, you took his hand and let him lead you to the bathroom. 

“Do you want me to step out?” he whispered, “I can wait outside until you’re done. I just want to make sure you’re alright.”

“You can stay,” you pulled off the dress and tossed it to the floor. You unclasped your bra before discarding and followed suit with your underwear. Despite having the best intentions, it was hard for Steve to control himself and not look, “it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

You stepped into the warm water, finding it the perfect temperature as you settled in. Steve sat on the floor next to you, trying to gauge what was running through your mind. You pulled your knees up to your chest as you turned to look at him with a sad little expression. He reached for a washcloth and your face wash before he delicately started to wash your face. You should have stopped him, stopped this and kept your heart from breaking further when you knew he would inevitably leave. But you couldn’t. Instead you sat still as he worked slowly and reverently. 

“Thank you,” your voice was barely above a whisper as you allowed yourself to meet his eyes. They were the same big, soft brown eyes that you’d fallen for over and over since you’d known him. And you could swear they were looking at you with the same expression as they had so many times, including the first time he told you he was in love with you. The realization that that was no longer true made your heart ache and you had to look away, “Stevie…I-I…thank you. For getting me, for doing this for me. But can you…can you please go home?”

“You want me to go?” his smile dropped as he opened his mouth but found nothing else to say.

“I can’t do this,” you sighed as you stared at the bubbles gently floating around, “I can’t do this and pretend that I’m not still in love with you. I know you’re not in love with me, and I respect that and because I want to respect you, I can’t have you here. I can’t make myself fall out of love with you and pretend I never loved you and that everything is just going to be alright. I knew that when we started dating it would be a risk - a risk that we might not work and it could jeopardize our friendship. And it did, a-and that’s okay, because at least we know we would never work out, right? And I-I don’t…it’s not fair to you for me to be in love with you and be your friend, you know? I don’t want things to be awkward or worse.”

“What do you-”

“I think it’s best if we don’t…if we aren’t friends anymore,” the words in themselves were the worst thing you had ever said. It broke your heart all over again, “my feelings for you are never going to change, Stevie. And I can’t just be your friend and you don’t want anything different with me so I feel like this is the only way.”

“N-no. That’s not true, you’re-”

“We’ll still have the memories of the good times,” your voice almost broke as you held back a sob, “but right now…can you please just go?”

“Swee-”

“Please,” you bit the inside of your cheek so harshly you were surprised it didn’t bleed, “please just go.”

He wanted to do anything but go. He wanted to stay, to tell you that you were wrong and that he had been wrong with breaking up with you in the first place. That he was stupidly trying to do what he thought was right, when it was really wrong. But that his heart had been in the right place. But you weren’t even looking at him. You wouldn’t believe him - not right now anyway.

“O-okay,” his lips were drawn into a thin line as he nodded, “I’ll go. I…I’m sorry.”

“‘s okay,” you shrugged again, “nothing to be sorry for.”

When you didn’t say anything else, he got up and left, but not before making sure you had a clean towel and pajamas waiting for you. His heart broke a little more with each passing step.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You’d made it a point to do everything you humanly could in order to avoid Steve. It was a herculean challenge considering that you lived across the street from one another, worked close to each other, and happened to have all of the same friends (funny how trauma brings people together). But somehow you had managed and you were sure part of it was due to your friends helping in ways they could, usually by diverting Steve. As much as they wanted the two of you to figure it all out, they had to let it happen in its own time. 

You were a mess. Steve was no better. As much as you tried to get over him, trying to will away the love you had for him, it was impossible. He was not just your best friend, but your family, the person that had been by your side for everything, from elementary through high school, through the awkward teenage years, through all the dating drama and first kisses and parties and all of it. How were you just supposed to let that go? How were you supposed to let the biggest piece of your heart go and carry on like he didn’t exist anymore?

You couldn’t. 

And now it was another Friday night. A Friday night that would normally be spent with all of your friends, but was now usually spent home alone with a pint of ice cream and an old film. But this time, Robin and Nancy had convinced you to come to movie night at the Wheelers’ home, promising that Steve wasn’t going to be there. He’d told them he had to go out of town for something or other. You’d believed it; when you left the house his car was gone from his driveway and you knew that none of your friends would lie. 

But as soon as you were there, comforted by the sea of familiar faces and tucked next to Eddie on the couch, he walked in. The room fell into silence as he looked just as surprised to see you there as you were to see him. Everyone seemed equally surprised.

“I…it’s movie night,” he said lamely as he held up a case of cola, the tension in the room so incredibly thick. 

“You said you were going out of town,” Nancy whispered with wide eyes, blaming herself for the tension, “you said you weren’t coming.”

“I did go,” he stammered nervously, “I got back early and figured I’d come over. I-I-I didn’t know that…”

“Hey,” you cast a look around the room, extremely aware of everyone’s expectant looks, “it’s all good, guys. We can watch a movie, after all. It’s fine - let’s get our snacks and watch.”

Like a collective sigh of relief washed over the room, everyone relaxed slightly. While at least things were at a head, you were freaking out throughout the movie and attempting to keep calm. Judging by the way Eddie kept looking at you and almost protectively put his arm around you, you clearly weren’t doing a good job.

Once everyone had said their goodbyes, you followed Eddie to his van, having hitched a ride with him earlier. Before he could even open the door for you, Steve ran up behind the two of you, “I can take her home.” 

“It’s cool,” Eddie wasn’t sure what to do, not wanting to get in the middle of it but also wanting very much to get in the middle of it, “I’ve got her.”

“It makes no sense,” Steve’s hands were on his hips as he nervously glanced at you, “you live across town and we live across the street. It’ll save you the trouble.”

“She’s no trouble,” he insisted with a smug little smile. 

“It’s just that-”

“It’s okay,” you cut Steve off without looking at him, “I’ll go with Steve, Eds. He’s right, it’ll save you the drive. Thank you though, for picking me up and all.”

“Anytime, sweet cheeks,” he gave you a soft smile - he’d always been soft on you - as you pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek, thinking nothing of it, “see you this weekend.”

“See you,” you gave him a wave before following Steve to his car, a tense silence falling over the two of you. You got into the passenger seat without a word, fully expecting to say nothing on the drive home. Instead you contented yourself with staring out the window at the past scenery.

“Munson, huh?” He broke the quiet after a few minutes, his knuckles practically white from the tight grip he had on the steering wheel.

“He’s our friend, Stevie,” you didn’t look at him, but the use of his nickname caused his stomach to somersault, “we’re just hanging out. That’s all. I love Eddie but he’s not..,never mind.”

“He’s not what?” 

“He’s not my type, okay? I’m not attracted to him like that,” you sighed, clenching your jaw as you tried not to cry. You wished he would just keep quiet and let you be miserable in peace.

He did that much at least, keeping quiet and his gaze away from you until he pulled into his driveway and parked. You immediately moved to get out, closing the door and mumbling a soft thank you as you almost ran across the street to your house.

“Wait!” Steve darted after you, easily catching up and grabbing your wrist gently to stop you. You inhaled sharply before turning around to meet his eyes, “please. We need to talk-”

“We?”

“I - I need to talk,” he insisted, attempting to muster up all the courage he had to finally tell you what had possessed him to make the biggest mistake of his life, “please. Just let me…explain.”

“I’m not really interested in getting my heart broken all over again,” you pulled your hand out of his and wrapped your arms around yourself, a defense mechanism that you hoped would ward him off, “look, I’m sorry I was there tonight, okay? Robin and Nance swore you wouldn’t be there. If I had known you would be, I won’t have come. I’m sorry if that made things awkward. There, I said it for you. You can go home now, Steve.”

“No, that’s not what I was going to say at all-”

“Then what were you going to say?” you asked as you flailed your arms nervously, “I don’t think there’s anything left to say.”

“I’m sorry,” he finally said after a few beats of silence, “I know you probably don’t want to hear it and I probably don’t deserve your time, but I just need to…explain.”

You sighed heavily, but nodded, “okay.”

“When  we started dating,” he wanted to look away but forced himself to look in your eyes, “that was the best day of my life. I had been wanting nothing more for years, but I just couldn’t bring myself to ask you because I never thought someone like you could actually love me, or want me or anything-”

“Someone like me?”

“Just you,” he insisted, “you’re so…fuck. You’re perfect - to me you’re perfect. You’re so beautiful, so smart, funny, kind, caring, and you babysit the kids so well with me and I’m just...so much better with you. I’m a fuck up, baby, I know that. I’ve made some shitty choices and haven’t always been the best guy, but the best decision I have ever made was sitting next to you that first day of class in the first grade. The worst decision I ever made was convincing myself that by breaking up with you was the only way to keep you safe. I never wanted you to get involved in this shit, to put you in danger, but you’re so fucking fearless and selfless that you never hesitated. You didn’t blink an eye or question it. And then…when we were in the upside down and we almost…we almost lost Eddie, that was one of the worst feelings ever. If I felt that way about a friend, imagine how I would have felt if it was you. I would have never forgiven myself. I hated even seeing you with those cuts and bruises. And then I thought, maybe the solution to all of it was to…create a bit of distance. I thought that would keep you away from the bad shit and keep you safe.”

“Steve-”

“I should have told you that in the beginning, but I knew you’d never have it-”

“Stevie.”

“I thought I was doing the right thing,” you could see that his eyes were glossy with unshed tears now and it made you want to run and hug him, “I thought it was right. All I ever wanted to do was protect and keep you safe. Even if it meant you hated me.”

“Steve,” the tears had run down your cheeks regardless of your effort to hold them back, “how do you think I felt when those stupid demobats almost got you? I would have done anything to keep you safe-”

“You did.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, “just like you would have for me if things had been reversed. You think I didn’t know all of that was dangerous? You really think that would have stopped me from following you?”

“No…”

“No,” you confirmed, “you’re insane if you think anything you could ever do would get me to leave your side. Even now, I would do anything for you Steve Harrington. You’re so smart and so dumb at the same time, and you really hurt me. But I can’t even be mad because your heart was in the right place. Even though you were idiot, you did it-”

“Out of love,” he finished, “I’ve always loved you, since we were stupid kids, and I’ve been in love with you for so long. That never changed. It will never change. There is not a single memory that you’re not somehow involved in. There is not a single future I can picture without you and like six kids and a big RV that we use to go camping and traveling.”

“I hate camping,” you laughed through your tears as he stepped closer to you.

“I know you do,” he exhaled nervously, “but you’d do it for me anyway.”

“Yeah,” it was a soft promise, one that brought a smile to his face, “I would. For you? Anything.”

“I know that I fucked up,” he wiped your tears away his thumb, and you could feel his body shaking, undoubtedly with nerves, “and I don’t deserve your forgiveness or love or anything. But I’m an idiot, and selfish, and I’m yours, baby - fuck, I’m yours - and I’m going to ask you for a second chance.” 

“I want to be mad,” you admitted, “because we’ve both been suffering like idiots. But, Steve Harrington, I’m still in love with you. And I’m willing to give you my heart to break again.”

“I won’t, I swear,” he leaned in and pressed his forehead against yours, closing his eyes, “I know you have no reason to trust in what I’m saying. But it’s true.”

“I know,” you could feel his breath against your lips, could feel how close his lips were, “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you,” he sighed softly, as his arms wrapped around you without hesitation, “can I kiss you?”

“Yes,” you leaned in and pressed your lips against his, letting him take control. His kiss was soft and slow, so many unspoken words and words behind it. When he pulled back at you, you could see that his cheeks were wet too, and just like he had done for you so many times, you wiped away his tears. He took your hand in his and pressed a kiss to your palm, “six kids, huh?”

“It was just a thought,” the two of you shared a soft laugh, neither of you breaking eye contact, “it’s negotiable of course.”

“I dunno about six,” you grinned softly, “but a few baby Harringtons sounds good.”

“Yeah?” his smile was that same soft, dopey smile you’d fallen in love with countless times, and you found yourself falling all over again.

“Yeah,” you kissed the corner of his mouth, “I love you, pretty boy. You’re a fool, but you’ve got a heart of gold.”

“I love you,” he held up his hand and you slid your palm against his, letting his much larger hand envelope yours, “always.”

“Always.”