#Steve Harrington hurt

[eds6ngel]

Can I request a Steve Harrington fic please?

Him and the reader are always throwing insults back and forth to eachother (enemies to lovers if you will) they’re both at a party, the reader on their own on the couch and Steve comes over to “bother” her. While bothering the reader he sees a girl he used to hook up with but told her that he can’t see her anymore (you can pick the reason why) and he begs the reader to act like his new girl for the rest of the night. He makes her pretend that they’re going up to a room for you know what👀 and the rest is up to you <3

mutual (dis)like ⋆˚✿˖°❀

steve harrington x fem!afab!reader

summary: with yours and steve's feud hitting the four-year mark, what will happen when you have to pretend to be his girlfriend for the night?

warnings: SMUT!! fem!afab!reader. unprotected p in v (pull-out method.) fingering. hickeys. kissing. consent checks. use of pet names (honey, baby, babe.) swearing. alcohol and drug use (everything is still consensual !!) r is 17, steve is 18. some angst and hurt in the middle. fluff and comfort at the end. [3.2k.]

a/n: thank you for requesting, lovely!! sorry it took so long, i experienced some writing slump :') but here you go!! i hope this is what you wished for ♡

To say that Steve and you didn’t get along would be an… understatement.

It all started when you joined Hawkins High in freshman year, Steve a sophomore. Tommy and Carol had decided it would be a fun idea to encourage Steve to target another one of the poor drama students, slowly adding to his ‘King Steve’ status.

However, what Steve thought would be an easy way to keep you down was quickly proven wrong. What he thought would be an easy bully session soon turned into an equal sparked feud.

Every morning at Hawkins High would be Steve turning up to your locker to bother you, you snapping back at him, before you both went your separate ways to class.

Tonight, Tina had invited you over to her house party to celebrate the end of the school year. You were thankful junior year was finally over, and Steve was grateful he actually managed to graduate.

You weren’t much of a partier, so to speak, so Eddie Munson always offered you some weed, which you were very grateful for. It helped mellow out the loud sounds of music and drunken states of sloppy teenagers.

However, like always, ‘King Steve’ (although, he had recently lost that title) came striding over to where you were relaxing on the vodka-stained couch.

“Of course you’re not partying. Why am I even surprised? How much did you suck Munson’s dick to get that bag?”

You scoff, taking another puff of your cig, “Not one bit, actually. Not all guys think with their dicks and some are actually nice around here. He doesn’t need to compensate like you do.”

He whistles as you stand up, smirking as you take a sip from the glass of whiskey in your right hand, “Oh yeah? And what makes you think my dick is so—”

However, Steve falls into a stunned silence as he notices someone very familiar behind you.

“So small? Well, I’ll have you know—”

“I need you to be my girlfriend.”

You splutter on the drink, coughing as you regain your breath, “Fucking hell, Harrington. Are you seriously that desperate—”

“Stephanie,” he blurts out, “She’s my ex-fling and I told her I couldn’t hook up with her anymore as I’d fallen in love with someone else and I need you to pretend to be that someone.”

You shake your head and laugh, “Uh… Yeah, that’s gonna have to be a no.”

About to turn around, Steve grabs your arm at the last minute. Damn, he must’ve really fucked things up for himself.

“Will you just do it? Every other girl in here I’ve either fucked or hates my guts, so—”

“I literally hate you as well, dickwad,” you cut him off, giving him a deadpan expression.

He leans in closer to your face, his eyes pleading as he says in a low whisper, “Yeah, but you’re also the only drama student I know, and if it’s anyone who can help me get out of this situation, it’s you.”

You take a deep breath in, before putting your joint out in the ashtray and your whiskey on the table, “Fine,” you arms flail, “But you better re-pay me for this… What do you need me to do?”

“So, this is the girl you fell for?”

Stephanie was definitely the IT girl around Hawkins. Beautiful blonde perm, luscious lashes, perfectly-shaped nails and an hourglass figure. Her entire outward persona made you feel extremely self-conscious, the whole story becoming even more unbelievable to you.

Steve wraps his arm around your waist, you trying to hide any signs of discomfort, “Sure is. This is my gorgeous girlfriend.”

Stephanie and her friends cackle, almost on level with a witches laugh, “You’re joking. Seriously? This freak?”

That word just made you shrivel up into a ball. You wanted to leave, to run away, to cry into your pillows. You could take insults from the guys, they would never understand what it was like to live in your shoes. But other girls? Women who went through the same universal experience as you living in this century? That stung. That cut deep.

“Steve, just leave it. This is ridiculous—”

But, before you can make your attempt at escaping, Steve grabs tightly onto your upper arm, “Yeah, actually, she is a freak. And for that reason, she makes a much better time than you ever did.”

Stephanie gasps, putting a hand to her heart, “Oh screw you and your shitty girlfriend, Harrington!”

“You know what?” he taps his chin with his finger, “I think that actually sounds like a great idea. You wanna head upstairs, babe?”

You nod subtly, “Yeah. Um… sure.”

“Sweet,” he takes a hold of your hand, “Don’t worry Steph, I’m sure someone else around here will happily take you for a good time.”

He winks, Stephanie scoffing and rolling her eyes, turning her back as the two of you make your way up to one of the spare bedrooms in Tina’s house. Lucky for you, the first room you came across was empty, not having to face the disgusting consequences of seeing two classmates going at it on the bed.

You’ve already parted from Steve, walking over to the other side of the room, hands interlinked behind your head as Steve closes the door.

He tries to make his way over to you, reasoning, “Look, I didn’t know she was going to call you that, I just—”

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Steve?” you yell at him, tears streaming down your cheeks, breaths coming out ragged as you struggle to catch them in your throat.

“How is this my fault? I didn’t call you that! I didn’t know she was going to say that!” his voice rises, matching the volume of your own.

“Do you even know what it’s like to get bullied by someone of the same gender as you? It’s humiliating! If I can’t trust another girl to be nice, then how can I—”

“Actually, I do!”

His statement shocks you into silence. When in the world has Steve Harrington ever been bullied? He’s been king of the school for almost four years now. He was the bully himself.

“Look,” he takes your wrist, guiding you to sit on the edge of the bed, “This whole bullying thing that happened, I…”

He takes a deep breath, afraid to admit the real truth about their ongoing four-year feud.

“Tommy and Carol forced me into it. They told me to target you, and like the stupid person I was at the time, I followed through. But…”

Your eyes are filled with confusion, looking at the brown-haired boy with intrigue, his expressions confusing you, nervous as to what he was about to say.

“The longer it went on, the more I started noticing things about you. I saw the way you would doodle little animals in your notebook in Biology, the way you would always order the same food for lunch, Mac & Cheese, mashed potatoes and—”

“And carrots…” you finish off his sentence, looking at him with pure shock. But, the emotion quickly turns back into that same anger, “But… if you paid that much attention to me, why did you continue to target me? Even when you ditched Tommy and Carol, you still fucking continued—”

He sighs, frustrated and disappointed in himself, “Because… I was frankly embarrassed to be with you, which is 100% a me problem, nothing to do with you. I still couldn’t let go of the fact that I could fall in love with someone who wasn’t ‘popular.’ I kept bullying you in hopes that you would hate my guts so much that even the pure idea of dating you would be impossible. Which is probably true now, so… mission accomplished for me, I guess…”

His hand was holding yours now, you giving it a small squeeze as you replied, “I don’t hate your guts, Steve. I just…”

Always something else. You still hated him. You had to. He convinced himself of that.

“I saw you bully everyone else, and you hurt a lot of fucking people. I didn’t want to let you win. It wasn’t that I hated you, I just didn’t want to let my guard down. Didn’t wanna act like I did with Stephanie down there.”

Steve notices you grit your teeth at that. You were angry with yourself. Angry with your insecurities, your weaknesses, your lack of ability to so easily defend yourself from everyone.

“So… I continued to fight back. I needed to be strong. I couldn’t let myself break after all these years. I would only stop when you did which… I guess is now.”

You look up into his eyes. You don’t know whether he got closer or you did, or maybe you both closed some distance. Maybe your bodies were trying to tell you something your brains were actively fighting against.

“So…” Steve gulps, “You don’t hate me?”

You laugh softly, grinning from ear to ear. Steve had waited to see that up close for years.

“No, Steve. I don’t hate you. I never did hate you. I just rebutted off of your hatred of me.”

He chuckles, “Well, I don’t hate you either. In fact, I think I said a very different word to describe how I feel about you.”

He was the one leaning closer now. His attitude taking more of a flirtatious tone, eyes staring completely into yours, a mood you’d much rather reciprocate for a long period of time.

“You sure did.”

“And you don’t mind?”

“Absolutely not.”

He grins, lips hovering just above yours, “So I assume you wouldn’t mind if I also did this.”

You manage to purr out an “Absolutely not,” before slotting your lips between his.

Your hand naturally went out to cup his cheek, his palms resting neatly on your waist, gripping your dress tightly, wishing to feel your natural skin against him.

The kisses quickly turn desperate, a plea in the form of a whine escaping your throat as Steve takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

He lightly taps your exposed thigh, “Come on, pretty girl. Get on top of me.”

You turn to putty in his hands, following his exact orders as you swing your right leg over his body, straddling his lap. Both of your hands remain on either side of his face, his hands sliding lower, perching under the curves of your ass.

The desperation seeps from both of you, your teeth and tongues attacking each other’s necks like a dog in heat, leaving love marks on every inch you had access to.

Your hands explore underneath his shirt, feeling the sparse hairs of his happy trail tickle against your soft skin. Steve’s arms are already guiding yours, lifting his shirt over his head and throwing it to the floor behind you.

You can’t help but let your body take over from your mind, your hands roaming completely over his chest, feeling every muscle and curve he had to give. It was yours now. All yours.

Steve had taken his time tracing your thighs in his fingertips whilst you were divulging in his neck, ever so slowly pushing your dress upwards, bunched up against your waist.

“Can I? Will you let me, honey?” he asks, fingers sitting at the waistband of your panties.

“Do what you need to, baby,” you reply in a sultry tone, lips moving to his collarbone. However, as you soon found out, your lips wouldn’t be attached for much longer.

Steve didn’t even need much preparation. A quick slide up your slit, coating his fingers in your juices and he was slipping his middle and ring finger into your hole.

“Oh fuck, Steve,” you moan out, head falling back, eyes closing as you bask in the pleasure.

“Yeah, honey? Like the feeling of my fingers inside you?”

Your nails dig into his shoulder blades, leaving red marks as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. Despite this being your first time together, it feels as if he knows your body inside and out, catching all the right spots to send you to Heaven, fingers moving at just the right pace, curling into the perfect spot.

“Uh huh. You’re so good at this, baby.”

Baby, baby, baby. He could listen to that pet name escape your mouth every single day, especially if it was being whimpered from your vocal chords. The exact throaty strangle he needed to hear.

There’s a sudden curl of his fingers that make you shiver, Steve chuckling as he teases, “Yeah? That the spot, honey? Got you figured out already?”

“Mhm, Jesus, babe.”

“You wanna cum on my fingers, is that it? Fall apart for me, honey?” he taunts, you trying your hardest not to rock back onto them, bringing yourself closer to your release.

“Not on— Fuck, not on your fingers, baby…” Your hand snakes down to the bump formed in his jeans, pressing your palm to it as Steve lets out a groan.

“Oh, you wanna cum on my cock, is that it, honey? Wanna ride me?”

You nod ferociously, “Yeah, yeah. Wanna cum on your fat cock.”

Steve pulls his fingers out of you in an instant, you leaning down to un-do his belt, him shifting the material down his legs along with his boxers.

Your statement about his cock being fat was apparently no lie. His dick hit his stomach, slightly curved to the right, cut, and had to be around 6 inches, a girth of over 5.

You had to contain yourself from drooling, grabbing his dick in your hand and rubbing it against your soaking pussy.

The mere touch of your hand around him had him containing a moan, watching in delight as you lined yourself up above him.

“You good?” you ask him, making sure he’s on the same line of thought as you. This was all so sudden after all, you had to make sure.

“Better than ever, babe.”

You took that as your cue to sink down onto his cock, moans filling the air as Steve gripped onto your ass tighter, ready to guide you if you needed.

“Can I move? Please let me move, Steve. It’s okay, I’m good.”

“Take it away, honey. You can call the shots here.”

“Okay…” you whisper as you lift yourself up, before slamming back down, Steve letting out a choked moan. Soon enough, you begin to find a steady rhythm, your wetness allowing for a ‘slosh’ sound to fill the atmosphere every single time you lowered yourself. With Steve’s balls hitting your ass, it’s like you transcended into Heaven. Why did you ever have meaningless hook-ups when it feels this good with a man who loves you?

Not giving as much as he’d liked earlier, his teeth attack your neck again, pulling and tugging on the skin before soothing it with his warm tongue. His hands help guide you up and down, him trying his hardest not to thrust his hips up into yours. He let you be in control here, and he wasn’t going to take over that unless he needed to.

Your hands come to cup the back of his head, eyes closed as your practically squished up against his face, letting him lean into your chest, feeling his lips press tender kisses between your breasts.

“Ah, ah, ah” is all that can escape your mouth. You’re too far gone at this point. You didn’t even realise the pace of your hips were slowing until Steve’s grunts increased and his cock was hitting a spot so far back that you didn’t know it existed. But, all that you cared is it felt good. Really good.

You could feel the knot begin to tighten in the pit of your stomach, even Steve’s thrusts becoming sloppy, uneven, his cock twitching inside of you, ready to burst any second.

“Shit, gonna cum soon, babe. Where do you want it?”

“I’m close too, baby,” you pant, “I’m not on anything, so my stomach, please.”

“Gonna hold off for you, honey. Wanna feel you tighten around me. Wanna feel you strangle my cock. Can you do that for me? Strangle my cock?”

“Uh huh,” you nod, basically becoming limp in his arms as he continues to pound up into you, your release building and building, before the tide quickly spills over.

“Shit, you’re so tight, honey. Such a good girl for me, fuck.”

Steve is struggling to hold off. The loud noises you are moaning directly into his ear, combined with the tightening of your walls around his cock has him gripping your ass for dear life.

As soon as your moans begin to settle, he quickly pulls out of you, beating his cock until his head is thrown back, four spurts of his cum landing onto your stomach, the rest pooling around his hand and falling onto his happy trail.

You’re sat on his thigh, head leaning against his shoulder as you both pant, his hands now tracing circles on either side of your waist, trying to catch your breaths and enter your post-orgasm hazes.

“Fuck, you’re amazing,” Steve lets out, lifting your chin so he can lean the side of his face against yours, a sloppy kiss being pressed to your cheek. “I love you so much, and I know that’s really soon, so don’t feel pressured to say it back, but… I just needed to say it again.”

“It’s okay,” you nod, “I get it. It is a lot and I’ll say it in due time, okay? And hey… you’re pretty fucking amazing too. But…”

Steve begins to panic at that, but your next words just make the two of you laugh, “The feeling of your cum drying on my stomach is not as pleasant, I’m afraid.”

Holding onto your hips, he stands up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carries you to the bathroom to clean you up. “Don’t worry honey, I got you. You just relax for me whilst I get you cleaned up.”

“M’kay… Thank you… for everything.”

He smiles at you, wiping the cum from your stomach with some toilet paper before throwing it in the trash can. He looks back at you, admiring your blissed out state. Your make-up was ruined, hair astray, but you never looked more beautiful to him.

He holds your chin as you slot your lips together once again, him mumbling, “’Course beautiful girl. You deserve it, ‘kay? Now… Tina won’t mind us sleeping in here, right?”

You shake your head, “Should be fine, baby. A sleep sounds good right now.”

“Mmm,” he mumbles, lifting you up into his arms from where you were perched on the toilet seat, carrying you back to the bed and tucking you in, before climbing in next to you.

He wraps his arm around your waist, dragging you closer to him as he presses one final kiss to your cheek. “Goodnight, honey.”

“Night, baby.”

taglist: @tlclick73 @joekeerysmoles @ellharrington @agxxb

[persage]

I WILL FIND YOU - S. HARRINGTON

Summary: Vecna knows he's losing the war, so he makes a trade. He agrees to stop the attacks, and asks for only one thing in return-You. Seven. By keeping you and Eleven apart, he will be safe forever.

In which you are one of the kids from the lab.

(PostS4! Steve Harrington x Reader) Masterlist .

Part 2: Sacrifices

Words Count: 4.3 k

WARNINGS! : Heavy Angst and Whump. Mentions of psychological and physical abuse. If you are sensitive to certain topics please don't read it, i don't wanna trigger you, your mental well-being it's important to me (also take care of yourself <3)

Basically a -way darker- Stranger Things's remake of Tangled and just another Steve Harrington's love story cause I can't stop writing about him.

Vecna knows he's losing the war, there are forces against him, stupid humans trying to survive in every stupid way. But you are exhausted too, you aren't gonna last long and you all know it. Battle after battle, death after death, hope fades and every time you come up with a new plan and arm yourself, or go on a reconnaissance mission to rid the Hawkins streets of demogorgons, you can't help but wonder who'll be the next. You almost lost Will last time. Robin was injured some days ago. Hopper lost his hand trying to save Murray and Murray, he died anyway. You are no longer sure what are dying for, what you are fighting for. After all you've been through, from your escape from the lab, to your arrival in Howkins, to the rediscovery of your dormant powers, nothing seems to make sense anymore, not if you ultimately fail to kill that damned monster. Then you turn to Steve Harrington, asleep exhausted in a corner of the shelter next to Robin, her hand wrapped in his, Steve's body covered with visible bruises and scratches and his expression tense even in his sleep. And suddenly you know that your reason is a boy like many others. And you know it probably won't be enough to keep you both alive: feelings don't save people in this war. They haven't saved Eddie, nor Max or Murray, and maybe they won't save Will, feverish in an unmade bed not far from you.

Creel or 001 or Vecna, whoever that monster is, is weak, tired. It is a war of wait, that goes neither back nor forward. Sometimes 001 thinks that if he just waits he could watch men destroy themselves until they disappear, other times he thinks they don't deserve this concern. But what he can do is taking his time to recover and come back stronger than before, perhaps with a few more allies. He's already got Eddie Munson, now he is ready to take someone much stronger and with his new puppet by his side he will finally win. Humanity will be over. So he makes a trade, he agrees to stop the attacks and asks for only one thing in return: he wants the only person that can actually destroy him, someone with powers too similar to his own. He asks for you y/n l/n, Seven, the one who ran away from him. He knows that when you and Eleven'll find the right way to combine your powers, then there will be no escape for him, that you could hold the balance of power in this fight. So one day he makes his proposal to you, in a low and frightening voice. He's in your head, a dark echo that portends the worst.

"If you come with me your friends will be safe." He ramains silent for a while as you let yourself fall to the bathroom floor, your hands clasped on your knees. "You're lying." You whisper, hoping no one hears you. "You have a chance to stop this, Seven you really want to waste it?" He asks, while he lets the faces of all the people who have died or who could do so scroll through your mind. Eddie covered in blood, Hopper holding his missing hand, Murray being devoured by a Demogorgons, Joyce holding Will in her arms and Eleven exhausted to the limit. Steve covered in bruises and blood. Max, still comatose in the hospital. Lucas, Mike, Nancy. All of them. You can save them, maybe. You just have to make the boldest choice: trust the devil. You shake your head, afraid. "It's a trap"

"I don't set traps, Seven, I give freedom to people. Let me save you too." You put your hands to your ears, even if it is useless, to chase his voice away. "Let me save them"

"I know how you save people, I won't let you do that again."

"This time, I could let them go ... Just come with me. You don't want me to kill Steve, do you Seven?" And it's time it breaks you, the image of Steve Harrington's cold, motionless body facing you, eyes closed, lips firmly folded into an eternal aching expression, the bluish color of the bruises mingles with the pallor of his skin and you call him, desperate, and you shake him and he doesn't react. He is a soulless shell. He is dead and you don't realize you've started screaming loudly.

*

"It's not gonna happen." Steve has his hands closed in two fists resting on his hips and shakes his head repeatedly, that's the only thing he can do: say no, try to prevent this madness. The worst thing is that no one else is as convinced as he is, he sees a timid hope in their eyes, the vague hint of assent and that's enough to drive him out of his mind. Is he really the only one he cares about your well being?

"Steve .." You whisper, approaching him as he walks away, pacing back and forth through the small room. If he stops he gets the impression that he might collapse, he's already risked losing Robin, he can't let anything happen to you. He wouldn't forgive himself and he honestly doesn't care that you're a badass superhero with superpowers. Fuck superpowers, protecting you is his job, it has been since you showed up at his house after Billy's beating and his amazing walk in the tunnels with the kids. You, who had literally just closed an immense portal to a scary world and wore the signs of weariness and fatigue on your face, had showed up at his door to check if he was okay.

"I knew you would be alone, it's not safe."

"I'm fine y/n, seriously"

"I'm not saying you're not fine Harrington, I'm saying I don't want you alone."

"No, no! We can't allow it, we know it's a lie. Vecna'll kill her" Steve looks for Hopper, Joyce, someone to listen to him. Hopper sighs and looks at you with regret. After all this time you've become a daughter to him, but the whole world is paying a very high price for this war and he knows that maybe taking some time could be a solution. "It's a possibility, of course" He confirms. "A dangerous possibility though." Lucas steps in, approaching to hug you. "He's weak," Will whispers, drawing your attention. He is pale, half hidden under the covers to save himself from the cold and fever. "I can hear him. Maybe he's not lying." Joyce looks at you hopefully. "He could break the bond with Will so we don't have to ... I mean, hurt him too. And we'll buy some time." They don't need to convince you, you've already made your decision, you just want them to know what to do. "We can't beat him without you." Dustin whispers. "Eleven can and I will take time until she's strong enough to do it on her own." You reply, turning to El. Once again it is Steve who objects. "He will get stronger too in the meantime. Do you realize that it doesn't make sense? It's a suicidal plan." He shouts, approaching you and gently grabbing your shoulders, shaking you.

"Steve, Steve please try to understand" You put your hand on his cheek and caress him softly, for all the times you've refrained from doing it, for all the years you've repressed and hidden your feelings. You let yourself get carried away by his warm and soft skin under your fingertips, the slight hint of beard, the creases around the lips and the scars under the flesh. "You have already decided" His voice is a murmur and it breaks, shattered like glass, his gaze becomes lucid and his grip grows stronger as if to hold you back. "Stay here." And God only knows how hard it is for you to step back, move away from him. Everything around you is still, you don't see anyone else, you don't hear their voices anymore. Steve Harrington is all that matters to you now. "I won't change my mind. It's our only option."

"That's not true, we have other solutions. We can keep fighting." He insists, trying to get close to you again. He is suffering, you recognize the slight shaking in his right hand as he tries to hide it behind, typical of when he is nervous or stressed and the way his lower lip protrudes slightly, like he is about to cry. He keeps silently begging you and is still aware that he is helpless. "No, but it is the only one who will perhaps allow you to live."

"I won't let you" This time he takes a firm step and hugs you tightly. "You can't. I won't let you do it"

"I know Steve, I know" With your face pressed against his chest you inhale his perfume and hide the tears. " Forgive me" You place one hand on his chest and one on his head and use your powers to make him collapse to the ground, unconscious. Holding back a sob and more tears, you manage to hold him close to you so that he doesn't collapse as Hopper helps you to lay him down, his clear eyes serious and worried. "You don't have to do it kid" You hold Jim's hand and don't reply.

In the darkness of the night Vecna collects what is due to him. You walk slowly, his long hand extended towards you. "Welcome home, Seven." With a quick gesture, he spells your memories away, slowly you feel everything you are and know slipping away from you, like words are erased from a sheet of paper as it becomes white again. You didn't know he could do it, none of you did. You feel stupid for getting caught so easily, you try to fight it, to keep something of you but it's not a power you know, you can't manage it. All you can do is concentrate: hide something in the back of your mind, memories in memories, hoping that one day you will be able to unlock them.

"You're the closest thing to a sister I've ever had." Max confesses to you, hugging you, sitting on the sofa in his house. Billy has only been dead for a month, the worst is yet to come for her.

Robin passes you a bowl of ice cream, she has been working at Scoops for a short time. No Russians, no monsters, no war "I don't believe you have never eaten one. How did you survive so far?"

Steve hugs you, his face is covered in bruises from the torture of the Russians and you are still lying on the ground as the Mind Flayer approaches dangerously. Steve shields you with his body while you are so weak and exhausted that you can't even find the strength to move. "Go away, Steve." "You come with me"

Murray takes your by he arm dancing and you laugh with him while Hopper shakes his head. "Come on Murray leave my daughter alone" He has never called you that way before. He must notice too, cause he opens his eyes almost as wide as you do and then, slowly, he smiles sweetly at you.

001 locks you in the attic of the Creel's house, a secret room, a kind of tower hidden under the roof where nobody will ever find you again unless he wants to. There, in the midst of a large dangerous forest in the Upside- down, you will be safe, you are his guarantee, keeping him anchored to this world until the time of destruction comes. Vecna adds protections around the tower. More monsters, bats, vines and do what he has swore, he lets your friends live for now. Max wakes up blind, bones still broken and a long path ahead of her. Eddie ... Vecna lets him go as he promised and what remains of him is an empty shell, a body without a soul, dead, reopening everyone else's wounds. Dustin cries for hours, because in his heart he has hoped that your sacrifice was worth at least Eddie's life and instead it didn't help and he is even more dead than before. Will recovers slowly and for the first time since the day of his disappearance, in that distant 1983, he no longer feels the upside-down stirring in him.

Despite what Vecna does to subjugate you, every now and then a spark of clarity lights up in your mind and in the opacity of your confused eyes, he reads your fear. You don't know why but you know you're in danger and sometimes you instinctively run away. He always takes you back, again inspects your mind and never finds anything new. It's like he's violating every part of you. Eventually he arranges for you to build a wall of vines connected to his mind so that he can hear every attempt to rip them open. It's the perfect prison, an impenetrable tomb. He leaves you in there for fifteen days without talking to you. Something escapes your mind, names on the tip of your tongue you don't know where they come from, distant voices speak to you and they belong to another time. He comes back on the fifteenth day and you still try to resist him.

Another ten days go by. Twenty-five days of total isolation, food and water just enought to make you survive, without knowing who you are, where you come from, what you are like. Why am I here? Eventually one day you stop resisting and Vecna knows he can now create his own weapon. You. All he has to do is wait a little longer, allow his body to recover the lost energy, reborn stronger than before. "Who are you?" You ask one day when he walks into your room. You are no longer afraid of the appearance of him. There is innocence in your voice, something that has little to do with the humans that he despises so much. He thinks about how to answer you, then his gaze falls on your tattoo. 007. "I'm 001" You stare at him. "And who am I?" He grabs your wrist and you let him. "Seven" you read. He has a number too. He's just like you. He's not sure why he has avoided it until now, a real contact with you, but he knows he doesn't want to anymore. "That's a long, sad story." You are sitting on the ground, looking at the dark ceiling and experiencing something new, which replaces fear and confusion: boredom. It grips you, takes you to travel with your mind to the story that One has told you. A bad man took you, used you because you are special and then your sister Eleven betrayed you, she opened a gateway to this world - and you don't know why but you call it the upside-down - and locked you up here, in a world without humans, which is cause of that a perfect place. Humans are bad and Eleven chose them anyway. She chose the bad man and she turned One into a monster. You don't care anyway: he is your brother, he is saving you.

We have to kill humans. They hurt us, they only hurt. Parasites.

The world without them is beautiful, One will show it to you one day, when you regain your strength. You're powerless, he says. He keeps you trapped to keep you safe, it's dangerous. They want to kill you.They want to take what's left of your powers. One promises you that you will train together to recover them and then you will go to the world of men and you will see with your eyes, what you are fighting. Then you will have peace together.

Sometimes One watches you for hours and you never notice, you never turn your head towards him. His plan his working, still there is something about you that has remained secret. Hidden. He understands this when he visits you one night, you are sleeping and when he comes in you don't open your eyes too tired by prigony and by a strange sense of emptiness that sucks you in. You don't eat anymore, you sleep a few hours a night and he knows that he must start making you use your powers slowly, otherwise you will let yourself die. Yet he does not trust you, he must be sure that you will not turn against him. "Are you here to rescue me?" You whisper, clouded minded. He doesn't give you an answer. It's better not to.

"You are here for your own safety," he says simply. "And you will stay here for now"

"I don't want to stay anymore," it comes a desperate plea. "I wanna go home" But you don't even remember what home is. Do you have one? He reaches forward to touch your pale cheek. "This. Is. Home." He's angry. And you're so tired you won't even remember this conversation.

He starts training you the next day, with nastiness and brutality. It's a punishment for what you said, a lesson to put yourself back in your place. "You have to learn to hit, like this" He openes his hand towards you and instantly you are thrown away, you hit the wall and your body protests at the painful impact, immediately like laces those strange vines squeeze your wrists and legs, squeeze, squeeze, squeeze more and more and then let you fall to the ground, stumble down to the floor, surprised by the sudden release. You bite your lip and scrunch your brows, sad and angered by the situation. "Do you understand?" One asks. "What they will do to you is even worse, Eleven will not be as kind as me. She will kill you if you don't kill her first." You get up from the floor and look away. "Are they really this cruel?"

"Oh, Seven. Humans are the worst, you'll learn"

"But why I don't remember anything? I've got this ... Feeling like I'm missing something .. Important?"

"You'll learn. Trust me. I saved you" Yet you don't really feel like he has saved you. At all. After a while you nod, One steps closer and reaches for you cheek wet from tears and you don't even know why you're crying. You keep hearing a voice inside of you telling that something is wrong. "My soldier"

"I will return in two days," One promises as he walks away. "I want you to know how to move these objects when I get back. The next task could ... hurt you otherwise."

*

You find it easy enough to move things, you feel you have strong control over your powers. And so the days go by and moving things around becomes a fight with bat-shaped monsters, then big dogs with a flower head that you slaughter without too much trouble and One hits you often, instigating you to fight with him. This is what they will do to you, he's preparing you for the enemy, sometimes you wonder if this enemy really exists. "Well done, my Seven" he says one day."That's not my name," comes an answer, voice weak. You don't know why you say it, it's not because you think it. The image of an unknown man with light eyes appears in your head, he is tall with a big mustache. Is he the enemy? Yet he looks good, funny.

"What is your name?" The funny man asks. "Seven. But I don't like it, it's not even a name."

"And what name do you like?" You shake your head. "I knew a girl years ago, beautiful and brave, she was called y/n" He says "y/n ... I like it"

"And what is your name?" One asks, intrigued. He took all your memories, there shouldn't be anything left. How is it possible? "I don't know. But I know it's not that." Your mind screams "y/n" but decide it's wiser to keep quiet. You shouldn't have said anything. "Your name is Seven" He states, leaving you. You hug yourself tightly and nod. Everyday, time seems to pass slower. Everyday, existing feels more and more unbearable. You wonder if you're even alive at all. It happens one day, unexpectedly. You don't know how long it's been. One hasn't come to visit you for longer than usual, the last time you managed to hit him, just to move him, but he laughed with satisfaction.

"The time is coming Seven"

You hear a noise, something banging against the wall, muffled voices and you wonder if they are in your head. Then silence. It happens again. There's movement somewhere behind the door, you are scared cause it can't be One and you know it. You've never seen someone other than him as long as you remember, so you take a step back, frightened. There's someone at your door and it's not One, it's a girl, curly short hair, big blue eyes. There's a man, the funny one you saw in -what was that? A memory? -he's different thought, he doesn't have a mustache and his face is hollow and his eyes are darker somehow, and then there is him, a young man in front of everyone, an ax in his hands, his expression shocked. His mouth is open, his eyes veiled with something you don't understand, relief perhaps and amazement. You can't stop looking at him, there is something that chains his gaze to yours, yet you are afraid of him. He confuses you. You feel strange while he looks shocked, only now you notice his worn out clothes, stained with blood, torn in several places and his face covered with dirt, like he has fought for a long time before arriving. Humans.

"y/n" The girl whispers. Y/n. Your name is Seven. You hear One's voice in your mind as you take another step back. "You're in danger, Seven"

"y/n" Repeats the funny man, and he's not funny anymore. "Honey, we're here ... It's okay" he reassures you. You shake your head. "Attack" One orders. You put your hand over your ears as he screams in your head. "Y/n" This time the boy is calling you, his eyes wide open and terrified. He remains motionless in the grip of a presentiment, a visceral terror. Suddenly he is pale, shivering and he looks younger. A little boy. The girl moves towards you, she holds a weapon. "Attack" You remember every time One has pushed you, hit you, hurt you just for this moment to come. Denfed yourself. You reach out and yell at the girl pushing with your powers her small body against the wall. "Nancy!" The boy shouts, running towards her to help her. She has her eyes closed. "I'm fine" she whispers, but her arm has taken a strange angle. You look around, breathing hard like a caged animal and stretch out your hands ready to attack again. The man tries to take a step towards you and you point towards him. "Attack" You don't want to, something in you prevents you from hitting them again and you feel bad looking at the girl in the boy's arms. He looks at you like he just lost someone important and you wonder why, why they seem to care about you. Because they haven't killed you yet, Vecna says. But they haven't even tried. "They will"

You hide in a corner, confused, while other images flow through your mind.

The girl - Nancy- holds out her hand to help you get up. You are on a bed. It is soft. "Nancy I don't know how to thank you." You say, looking at yourself in a mirror - funny, in the present you don't even know what you look like - you wear a dress that is obviously not yours and fits tightly in places. But you are happy. "Don't thank me it's your first ball think about having fun!"

You put a hand over your eyes now, you try to tear them away and you scream afraid. One, he's too is close. You feel it in your veins.

"Go away" You find the courage to look at the man, his clear gaze veiled with worry and pain. "They'll bring Eleven to you. They'll kill you."

"You have to come with us" he replies, reaching out to you. The younger man is now standing behind him, and his eyes are veiled with tears, he's trembling and you feel physically sick under those disappointed look. Steve. A name resonates in your thoughts.

"You're an idiot Harrington "

"Steve! Please don't tickle!"

"Help me Steve!"

"Steve Harrington, I solemnly swear never to steal your candy stash again."

This time you turn to him. "Go away." You repeat, slowly. "He is coming." And you don't even know why, you just feel that it's the right thing, that you want to protect him, that they won't make it with One. The guy suddenly snaps to you, feline, grabs you by the arm hard, almost desperately, then reads the fear in your gaze, the confusion and his touch softens. It's almost like a caress and you think it's nice to be touched by another pair of hands after a long time. Even if they belong to the enemy they can be delicate. "You have to come with us, please" He begs you. There is no more time, One's so close that you can almost feel it in your bones. With a wave of your hand you push them away and somehow manage not to hurt them. They look at you "I'm not letting you!" The young man says, getting up quickly and wiping a trickle of blood from his mouth, eyes tearing up. He's angry. His hands clenched in two fists. "We have been looking for you for so long." He continues as the girl places a hand - the one that doesn't seem broken - on his shoulder and gestures for him to go. "We'll be back, I swear to you." She promises. A heavy presence appears out of nowhere, and you know all hope is lost.

"Go away. Please" The last words come out distorted from your lips. You feel bad. Humans have hurt you and you, you are helping them without even knowing why. They run away, giving you one last glance while you stand still in the center of the room. One is here, in front of you.

[alltheseredroses]

1/8

Steve didn’t know how he did it, but he managed. He helped the kids get out of those tunnels after Billy had beat his face to a pulp. That was all he had to do. It was his one objective: get the kids home. So as soon as everyone was back at the Byers’, his body gave in. The pounding in his head was becoming unbearable, somehow his nose started bleeding again, eyes throbbing in his skull and breathing seemingly not an option. Waves of nausea hit him hard as the room started spinning. Before he knew it his body hit the floor, still covered in drawings, as every last ounce of adrenaline left his body. The kids were safe, Will was okay, and hopper had brought his superpowered kid back safely as well. He had done what he had to. Now all he could do was feel the stabbing pain in his head as hands suddenly came to every side. Sleeping didn’t sound too bad right now.

[adhdsummer]

I have such connection with Steve at the moment through scars of all things.

I got hurt in December and have been going back to the scar clinic over and over again since dealing with "maybe this will help" and "Oh, that still looks angry, try this" and every time I think that I have a small scar but Steve would have to do this for most of his body by this point and, of course people would go to his appointments with his at first, but after a while (just like me) people get to be busy and it become so run of the mill that he just has to drive an hour away to a bigger hospital on his own to be poked and prodded by medical professionals and wonders if they'll ever heal fully, or at least stop hurting at some point.

Anyway, just some thoughts that spring out of obsession and personal experience.

[doeomi]

Steeeve Harrington

Please like him he is my hyperfixation

[this-is-mycrisis]

you can't tell me that this doesn't describe steve harrington

[imfinereallyy]

you can pry happy endings from my cold-dead hands. It can be the most heart stopping, gut wrenching fic that has every existed and I will read every drop of it if I get my happy ending. I have had enough painful endings in real life, give me happy in my fantasy world. It can be at the last second, it can be a single sentence, even a single word. Give me all the angst and hurt in the world for 500,000 words, but please give me the comfort I need in the ending. please and thank you.

[morganbritton132]

Eddie, in the middle of a live-stream: Hey, Stevie. I was thinking about something you said the other day and I’ve got a question

Steve: …Oh-kay?

Eddie: The other day you said that your parents used to make you go to benefit dinners with the mayor, right? Mayor Kline?

Steve: Um, yeah? I think. They were donors. They campaigned for him.

Eddie: Uh-huh. That’s what I thought.

Eddie: So.

Eddie: Your parents helped fund you being drugged and tortured by Russians.

Steve:

Steve, taking all this in: Huh.

Eddie: Huh, indeed.

[lazylittledragon]

psspsps come get your alt dads

[helpimstuckposting]

I love a good fwb steddie fic where one of them thinks they’re dating and one of them thinks it’s just casual but I could also get behind a fwb steddie fic where they both think it’s casual and there’s zero misunderstanding between them but then they realize it’s been like five years, they live together, they have a cat together, they kiss and go out together, and they both just look at each other like????? Wait are we dating???? When did we start dating????? And they’re idiots but they’re in love your honor

[eds6ngel]

when i kissed the teacher masterlist ༊*·˚

all parts and spinoffs to my series 'when i kissed the teacher.' ˚♡⋆

♡ sfw. ☾ nsfw.

series!

♡ part one.

♡ part two.

♡ part three.

♡ part four.

♡ part five.

spinoffs!

♡ steve and reader's first date.

♡ reader sleeps over at steve's for the first time.

♡ reader and steve go on a double date with robin and vickie.

☾ steve and reader's first time.

♡ steve and reader's first fight.

♡ alena calls reader 'mom' for the first time.

♡ steve thinks about marrying reader.

♡ steve proposes to reader.

♡ reader tells steve she is pregnant.

[persage]

My Responsibility - S. Harrington

Pt 2. Dead Man

Whump!SteveHarringtonxReader

S4

Summary: After the events of Season 4 Steve has to deal with the consequences of his injuries and only the reader realizes his condition are getting worse.

PART 1 Masterlist

Words: 2.4 k

Tags: whump! angst! romance! Steve Harrington x Bestfriend!Reader. Protective!Steve andJim Hopper being a good dad for the group.

Taglist: @ducky-is-dead-inside @carpediem1219 @lexiecamposv @gloryofroses19

A.N (feel free to skip) : thank, you all for your support on the previous part! I didn't expect it at all. The story will have at least other 2/3 chapters, if you wanna be added to the tag list just ask❤️

He is a dead man walking, Steve Harrington has known it for a long time. Even while you were in the Upside Down trying to find a way out, he already knew he was gonna die soon.

The demobats had just attacked him and you were running away, scared as hell.  All he could think about in those moments were his burning wounds, fire exploding in his veins. He couldn't stop moving, because you would have stopped with him and he couldn't let you. You were his whole world, he needed to keep you safe.  As you were running by his side, turning from time to time to check if he was still with you, he had pictured both of you in his bed lying together in an indissoluble hold. Dreaming was the only way not to collapse. Every step he took made him want to cry out in pain and he felt his wounds contorting on his stomach. Keeping up with Nancy, Robin and Eddie was hard, but you were  beside him making sure he didn't keel over which, honestly, seemed quite likely. The bats screeched again and as he turned Steve saw that they were swarming towards the five of you. 

"Go" He screamed at you "I'll be right behind you ."

"I won't leave you Harrington."You weren't going to let this self - sacrificing man get mauled for your safety.

Steve was already doomed, he has been since those monsters ripped through his flesh, Something had changed in him, he felt the infection growing and expanding, moving in his body like a poison and he was exhausted in a way he never experienced before. He wanted to sleep forever.

I need help.

Steve Harrington had already made his decision when Nancy was taken by Vecna.  When all of you barely came back through the portal in Eddie's trailer, he had decided not to reveal his condition to anyone. Then things evolved quickly and there was no more time to waste. He had to carry on with his mission - a crazy suicidal plan- and he couldn't let go, he couldn't be weak, not when Max was putting herself on the line for the world, not when Vecna was ready to take each of you with ease, not when you were walking in front of him with an axe in your hands and two guns in your belt ready to set that bastard on fire. You were armed, capable, dangerous but that was never enough to stop Steve from worrying about you. He thought back to when you disappeared, during the mall massacre, and for hours he had believed you were dead.

A hole in his chest, a part of him ripped away. The Harrington boy didn't want to feel anything like this ever again. He could relax back in the real world, without Vecna, knowing kids and the rest of his friends were safe. For now he simply had to get to the Creel's house without loosing consciousness or being attacked again.

Watching him as they settle his unconscious and trembling body on the bed is awful. It's like having shards stuck in your throat. Joyce closes the door gently, to grant him some privacy in that tidal wave of people. You haven't even noticed your friends around you: Will, Mike, El, Jonathan, Nancy and a guy you don't know. They are all here. Hopper has to practically detach you from the door of El's room - where Steve has been placed - by force.

"The boy is strong. He'll be fine, don't worry." You take a moment to actually look at the man and feel guilty for not doing it sooner. He is much more thinner than you remember him, his hair has been shaved off and God knows the horrors he must have seen. Everything you know about how he's here is just a few snippets of the conversations you managed to gather while worrying about your best friend. Something about Russians and a labor camp, something scary.

"I'm sorry." You say. You're sorry because you haven't even bothered to hug him, greet to him properly or tell him how sorry you were for his death and that you are happy to see him again. Hop has always helped all of you, he has seen you grow up and you have learned to love him. Jim Hopper is a hero. Somehow he reminds you of Steve and can't help but remeber that time when, right after high school, you advised him to consider a career as a cop if the one a babysitter didn't go well.

"Working with Hopper, God that man would kick my ass." Now you really want Steve to be awake, not only because you know how happy he would be to learn that no, you haven't lost Hop too, that there is hope, but also 'cause you desperately want him to see the way the man cared for him, the way he gently grabbed him, hugged him like a baby and carried him safely into the house.

"I'm happy you're here and ... I don't know how it's possible ... But now I feel safe. With you." You throw yourself at the man in an unexpected hug. Jim stands still for a while before wrapping his arms around you. This is the first time you have hugged each other in many years.

"What happened to Steve?" Nancy asks, concern is clearly visible on her face.

"His injuries were more serious than he led us to believe." You let a hand run through your dirty and sweaty hair. You know it's your impression, you know they don't think so but you feel judged, like they are silently saying. "It's your fault."

"Why didn't he say anything?" It isn't really a question, Nancy Wheeler knows Steve well enough to understand his reasons but Robin answers anyway, letting go of a nervous laught that you recognize right away. It's the same as when she was taken by the Russians, the same as when things are going really really bad and she doesn't know how to react.

"We're talking about that dingus. He might come to us with his head cut off and still say that everything's going to be fine and he's totally safe. And he would ask us if we are okay" You smile because it's true and no one could have said it better.

"I should have known." You let the words slip from your lips.

"Don't be too hard on yourself kid." Hopper comforts you.

"We should have known." You appreciate Nancy taking a piece of your distress, sharing the burden of responsibility with you. It's absurd, because if there's one person you've been dreading lately it's Nancy: brave, beautiful, and more complicit with Steve than you in the last few days. During your mission you couldn't tolerate the way in which those two supported each other, finding a long lost harmony between them, the same one that made you  you suffer deeply when they were still a couple.  She was the first one to dive into Lovers Lake while you had that extra second of hesitation that was enough to make you feel inferior. She was the one who bandaged his wounds, the one who collected his secret dreams before the battle: a family, six kid and a trailer. Steve has mentioned it to you once but the tone in which he talked about it to Nancy was different, it seemed more like an invitation, a way to tell her: do you want to be part of my dream?

But now jealousy doesn't matter, you're just thankful that there are so many people who care about him. When he wakes up, he will finally have to understand that he is loved. You turn to the door, biting your nails until blood comes out. Joyce has told you to wait, to take a moment for yourself to breathe but it is physically impossible. You need him like air

She have looked at you like she wasn't sure you were okay, searching for wounds on you."

You are just like him." Eleven have told you, approaching slowly. " You always put someone else before yourself" You  have hugged her gently, when thing will get better you will ask what happened to her.

"Don't you do the same? With Mike, with Hop, with ... Max"  

"But they know how I feel, they know why I do it. Does he know?"

"I think so. Not the way I want to but he knows it."

Now El's words ring in your ears. Does he know?

"Enough now." You say, rushing to the door, only to be stopped by Hopper's gentle hands. "Y/ L/N. Either you calm down or don't enter."

Robin approaches you, shakes your hand and you immediately feel better 'He doesn't need to see you worried. Now put on a calm expression, you enter first and I'll go in later." Robin Bukley , I think i love you. She is probably giving you the only minutes of solitude you will have with Steve before Dustin arrives with the others, who have gone to get him in the meantime. Once Henderson is here, he will stick to Steve all the time. You just want a moment  to make sure he's better and whatever Joyce is doing is working. You open the door and against your expectation his big, brown, beautifully alive eyes are on you.

"You're awake." He nods weakly. He is still pale, sore and sure has a fever but he is awake and this is enough for you to feel your heart lighter. Your legs move before your mind, you are immediately beside him and squeeze him tightly. "You scared us"

"Sorry". He replies, turning away when you break away from the embrace. Something is bothering him you know, you understand it but you will have time to discuss about it later, now you look at Joyce happily.

"I have cleaned his wounds and gave him something for the fever,  it should subside soon. We'll have to keep an eye on him." You sigh relieved, with a new hope that you don't find in Mrs. Byers's gaze. She seems sad, worried. "What else?" You ask, with a lump in your throat. Joyce lets her gaze slide between you and Steve. "I noticed some ..." She doesn't know how to tell you. "They are like black veins, starting from the wound and spreading along his body." The woman pulls back the bandages that cover the wounds slightly so you can see them: black pumping veins widen along the stomach and chest.

"They weren't there before." You say arching your eyebrows in confusion. He is not surprised and he's avoiding your eyes. You put a hand on his arm as Joyce walks out of the room. 

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"They only come out sometimes ... When I feel bad." 

"Steve, I didn't ask you this." Your tone is harsh and you don't want to be mad at him, yet you already know what he will tell you. It's scary, honesly. 

"The war isn't over. We don't have time to worry about this." To worry about me.

"But we do have time to let you die, is that what you mean?" You feel the tears sting, but you don't let them fall. "Steve." You beg him, grabbing his face in your hands and forcing him to look at you. You are so  close you can feel his warm breath on your lips. He remains silent, his eyes flow over your face and his look is intense, full of so many untold feelings. He would like to kiss you, he would like to finally let himself go in your arms, he would like to tell you what has been tormenting him for months. He would like to tell you that he loves you and you can take everything he has, everything he is. He's yours. He has always been yours. He hates seeing you sad and concerned because of him. Steve Harrington is a dead man and the last thing he can do for you is walk away, make it easier for you. Silly boy. 

You lean your forehead against his and he moves away with a sorrowing expression. Getting away from you hurts more than any wound or any poison in his body.

 "Everyone saw me, didn't they?" You nod. "We needed help."

"You shouldn't have brought me here. You shouldn't have let them see me like that. Those kids don't need any more trauma" You close your hands in two fists in need to to beat him to the point he will not be able to say certain bullshit. 

 "And don't you think that if...you die it wouldn't be a trauma for them? For Dustin? He has already lost Eddie!"

He doesn't answer.

"Go away, I'm tired."

"What?"

"Go away Y/N I don't want you here." And as he says these words his voice trembles.

"No." You grab his hand.

"Y/N. Go away." He finds the courage to look you as he breaks your heart, his words are cold and there isn't a single emotion on his face. Slowly you let go, get out of bed and with unstable steps you leave the room. You've never hated anyone like you hate him right now, him and his stupid lack of self-care. Also you've never loved anyone like you love him right now, with your throat full of tears and stomach twisted in a grip. There's a muffled sob coming from his room.

"Thanks for leaving me there." Dustin says entering the shelter. He looks angry, nervous but you don't care. "Go to him." That's all you can say before you go out to get some air in the woods. You need to be alone, if you stay there, if you opened your mouth you would scream, cry or beg. And you're too tired even for that.

[sp0o0kylights]

Bullshit.

The word rings obnoxiously in Steve’s ears as he pushes his way out back, not wanting to be anymore of a talking piece at this party than he already was.

He’d just wanted Nancy to stop drinking, take a second, pace herself…

Steve swipes furiously at his eyes, and then curses when it nearly causes him to run into Chrissy Cunnginham, who’s perched in a chair tucked away from the patio door.

“Sorry, sorry.” He apologizes, trying not to sound like he’s upset, trying to keep his cool--only for her to look up and away, brushing off her own tears.

“Oh.” Steve says, a little laugh bubbling out of him. “You too huh?”

Thankfully she correctly interprets that he's not laughing at her, and adds her own giggle to the mix, the sound gentle even if pitched in upset.

"Boy problems?" Steve asks her, sinking down to the vacant chair on Chrissy's right.

She nods, clasping her hands together in her lap.

"Girl problems?" She asks back, and he grimaces a smile.

They sit for a minute, Steve pulling out a cigarette and offering it to her before lighting up. Chrissy shakes her head, and though her nose curls a little at the smoke she doesn’t say anything.

Neither of them do, staring at the few people bringing the party outside in the way only drunk teenagers can.

"Can I tell you something?" Chrissy says finally, as Steve continues to struggle to keep himself breathing evenly (and not spiraling. He still has to go back and try and escort Nancy home, and he needs to keep his temper when he does it.)

She licks her lips. "I keep trying to break up with Jason, but he won't let me."

It takes a second for the words to register, but when they do he leans himself towards chrissy in concern. “What do you mean, he won’t let you?”

“He’s not--it’s not…”She trails off, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. “He talks me out of it is all.”

She’s downplaying it, and Steve’s concern grows tenfold. “Does he argue with you or just…tells you no or something?”

"It's complicated." Chrissy says, refusing to look at him. "He has this vision for me, for us."

Steve watches as she worries at a hangnail.

Feels the need to reach out and take her hand, but keeps his own hands to himself.

If Steve has learned anything, it's that not everyone wants to be touched as much as he does.

"He keeps telling me I'm just being anxious. That I should trust him, and I do, he just expects me to always do what he says? And more and more lately I--"

She huddles down into the little cat costume she's wearing, pulling the thin black sweater around her. "I want different things than he does."

Steve wonders vaguely if Nancy wants different things.

Or a different person entirely.

"That's not fair to you." Steve says, leaning forward and lowering his own voice. "He can't keep you in a relationship you don't want to be in."

A hard thing for him to say, after the bathroom conversation but this is different.

‘Please, let this be different.’ He thinks, before pushing the thought aside.

"He can't force you to do what he wants just because he wants it, or thinks its best. He should be listening to you and what you want too. Relationships are about…compromise right?” It’s what he’s heard anyway, though most of the time “compromise” means “letting the other person get what they want.”

Which is what he thought he’d been doing for Nancy all this time.

“I can help you if you want. Be your," Steve poorly mimes waving a pom pom. "cheer support."

Chrissy looks at him, eyes still wet. "You would?"

"Of course.” He says, before scooting just a smidgen closer. “Might have to ask you to return the favor though. Nancy said some things tonight and I could really use a second--”

A loud curse makes them both startle, interrupting Steve.

Together, they look around before another noise, like bark being scraped, draws both their attention to the large oak that stands in the backyard.”

"Is…is that Eddie Munson?" Chrissy asks.

"I think so."

Chrissy squints a little, as if not quite believing what she's seeing. "Is…he stuck in a tree?"

Steve finds himself staring in his own disbelief, hands moving to his hips as he watches Munsons wriggling, cursing form.

"I think so." He repeats with a shake of his head.

Eddie's foot slips off a branch, once, twice.

"Hey--" Steve calls out in warning, but unfortunately it comes too late.

The branch under his foot gives away with a startling crack! as another branch shreds Munson's jacket as his full weight caches on it.

"Oh!" Chrissy gasps, hand flying to her mouth as Eddie falls right onto his ass with a yelp.

"You good man?" Steve asks, rising from his chair, hesitant to go over but needing to make sure the idiot hasn't cracked his skull open.

Chrissy has no such qualms, popping up to run over to Munson.

"You're bleeding." She tells him worriedly, dropping to her knees to get a better look.

"Well shit." Munson says with a wonky grin. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for?” Chrissy asks, as Steve’s newly honed babysitting instincts kick in and drive him to get up and look at Munson’s injury himself.

Chrissy carefully strokes the older teen’s hair out of his face, as Steve bends down to check his head and neck.

"You hurt anywhere?" He asks, spotting the scratch that had Chrissy worried.

It’s on his forehead--the guy must have knocked his face against the tree when he fell. Head injuries always bleed a ton but this one's well contained to a small scrape.

Probably not a concern, though Steve looks at his pupils anyways.

"Nah, I’m pine. I didn't mean to drop in on you guys.” He waves a hand behind him before dropping his voice to a dramatic whisper. “I knew I shouldn’t have trusted that tree, it was pretty shady.”

Steve, long trained by Dustin, narrows his eyes. "Are you making puns right now?"

"Maybe?" Munson hedges, looking delighted to have been called out.

“Uh huh.” Steve puts his hands back on his hips, straightening up from where he’d crouched down. “Your head okay? You remember your name and shit?”

“Edward Edwardian Munson, present and ready for duty!” He gives a mock salute, before dropping Chrissy a wink. “If the duty is drinking and playing games that is.”

“Your middle name cannot be Edwardian.” Chrissy laughs.

"It is!" He defends, at the same time Steve says,

“It's not "

“Oh?” Munson challenges, as if this entire situation isn’t ridiculous. “Then what is my middle name, Sir Steven?”

“No idea, but I know it’s not that.”

Munson blows a raspberry at him. “Well then, maybe you should mind your own beeswax."

"Like you were doing? Up in the tree right above us?" Steve banters back.

The playful look dies a little, Munson beginning the painful process of standing after one falls.

"For the record, I absolutely was not eavesdropping, you guys just happened to be under the tree I climbed and I was there first. " He says it rapidly, like he's used to being accused of such things, and is heading off as many problems as he can.

Steve just ignores it, opting instead to hold his hands out. One to Chrissy and one to Eddie.

Watches surprise cross the older teens face, even as he waits for Chrissy to get up before accepting Steve's hand.

"Why were you up a tree? The family dog run you up there?" Steve grunts as he pulls the metalhead up.

"Funny." Munson quipped sarcastically. "But no. I was up there for reasons."

'Reasons.' Steve mouths, and has to fight himself to keep from grinning.

"Even though I was there first, I did happen to hear some things." He looks at Chrissy, voice turning serious. "If you need any help getting things through Carver's thick skull I'd love to lend a hand."

"You would cheer for me too?"

"Oh absolutely. I'd make a far better cheerleader than Harrington here." He shoots a grin towards Steve to take the edge off the words, before doing a far more enthusiastic mimicry of the cheerleaders pom pom routine.

"But I know how much Carver hates the word no. If you break up with him and he gives you shit after, I'm happy to step in."

Steve hadn't actually thought about that yet, but given what he knew of Jason it makes sense.

He could easily see Chrissy worrying about Jason harassing her after the break up.

"Thank you. Both of you." She sniffs. "Eddie, are you sure you're okay?"

"Right as rain!" Munson gives a rather theatrical thumbs up. "I'll let you in on a family secret, we Munson's have rubber bones."

She gives him another giggle for his efforts, and even Steve can’t fully cover his

Munson, the ass, notices.

“Well call me the court jester, I got both the King and Queen to smile!” He cheers.

Steve rolls his eyes, but doesn't deny it.

"Chrissy!?" Someone barks, loud in the otherwise quiet backyard.

"Speak of the devil." Eddie drops his voice dramatically as Jason strides out of the house.

"I've been looking for you." He chides, two of his friends following close behind.

They're younger members of the basketball team, ones Steve's brain sluggishly attempts to remember.

"Are your knees dirty?" Jason asks Chrissy, disgust tinting his voice as he slowly looks from her to Munson next to her.

His eyes narrow, expression almost offronted.

"You heathen." Jason snarls, stepping forward with a fist clenched.

It was a move right of the sitcoms Steve swore he didn't watch, and it looked just as cheesy in real life as it did on screen.

"Calm down." Steve speaks up, hands going to his hips.

Jason's head jerks as he registers him, so focused on Munson that Steve slipped his notice entirely.

"Harrington?" He asks, as if Steve could be mistaken for anyone else here.

Steve gives him jazz hands in return.

"What are you doing out here?" Jason speaks only to Steve, whole body angling towards him like he's the only person who matters.

It's something Steve's dad does, if there's a businessman he considers to be an equal in the room. Zoning in on them, so he can subtly work in ways to make them feel inferior.

It's narcissism at its core (or so says his mother, when she's blitzed out on too many glasses of wine.)

"Talking to people." Steve deadpans. "If you're looking for beer, you walked past it."

Jason entire face pinches, like he just stepped in dog shit. "No one just talks to Munson."

It's a stupid thing to say, and whatever Hason was trying to imply with it wasn't appreciated.

"Well mark me as the first." Steve's hip cocks, voice frosting over.

Surprise washes across Munson's face, though he remains silent as Steve deals with Jason.

Probably a smart move, given how Jason seems to be eager for a fight.

"Whatever it is you're doing, you can leave Chrissy out of it." He says, and god his voice even sounds like Steve's dad.

"Chrissy," Steve says, with an eyebrow raise he knows looks judgemental, "can speak for herself."

He turns to face her, inviting her to the conversation, in the same way he'd always wished someone would invite his mother to speak against his father.

Watches as the cheerleader bites her lip, trying hard to hide the tears that have sprung to her eyes--but proves that she's stronger than Steve's mother ever was.

She steps forward, taking the opportunity offered to her with a steadying breath. "Jason--"

"You can explain it to me later." Her boyfriend waves her off, like she was a waitress offering water and not his partner.

Uncaring entirely that she's clearly upset.

That she wants to talk.

Munson has come to stand on Chrissy's other side, gone still in a way Steve's never seen him do.

It's downright weird for a guy who's normally always moving, and Steve knows it's defensive.

He's feeling a little defensive himself right now, though he doesn't want to particularly untangle why.

"Jason, listen to me." Chrissy tries again.

In his preffery vision, Steve spots a flash of familiar color. Turns his head automatically, seeking it out--and sees Jonathan hustling Nancy across the room.

The younger man is trying to balance Nancy while opening the front door, and for a second Steve almost beelines for them, except--

Except.

Nancy's whole body moves in what Steve intimately knows is an exhale, leaning her head in the crook of Jonathan's shoulder.

One arm wraps around his waist, as Jonathan finally gets the door open, and Steve watches with a stunned sort of horror as his girlfriend presses a kiss to Jonathan's shoulder.

It's fine.

He's fine.

Nancy was just--drunk. Seeking comfort. She didn't know what she was doing. She didn't mean it like that, she didn't--

"Oh shit Harrington." Jason drawls, a lazy sort of taunt. "I think Byers just stole your girlfriend."

Steve's head snaps back to him, the emotions he was attempting to box up flying to the front of his brain like dogs who slipped their leash.

"Never thought a priss like Nancy would be easy like that, but then, you never were the kind of guy to inspire loyalty." Jason continues, clearly ignoring his own girlfriend and all Steve can see is red.

Munson sucks air between his teeth next to him, nervously eyeing Steve while Chrissy's eyes have gone wide with shock and growing anger.

"Jason!" She admonishes, but he's not even looking towards her.

That too sharp smile is all for Steve.

He thinks of Nancy, the way she'd been so angry with him but so gentle with Jonathan.

He thinks of the monster he faced down in the Byers house, the terror that had shrank down to that same adrenaline soaked focus he had on the basketball court.

He thinks of this asshole Junior in front of him.

Making Chrissy cry just because she'd been kind enough to try to help Eddie, and accept Eddie's kindness in return when the weirdo tried to help her and Steve both.

Steve taps his foot, then switches his stance.

'Plant your feet.' Hargroves voice snarls in his memory and Steve wouldn't be surprised if the asshole abandons the keg long enough to come watch this.

Have his turn at heckling, just because he can.

Steve plants his feet anyway.

"You know what Carver?" He says, hands dropping from his hips.

Jason's face curves into a smile. "What?" He says, tone smarmy.

"You're full of shit."

Hand cocking back of its own accord, Steve puts every bit of himself into his punch.

Feels it reverberate up his arm as his knuckles connect to Jason's cheek.

It's going to hurt later, but right now all he can do is stand over Jason as the asshole's head snaps sideways, legs staggering him backwards until he's falling into his friends.

Chrissy gasps, Jason's boys chanting variations of 'Oh shit!'

Steve just glares him down.

The junior wipes his bloodied mouth, letting his friends push him up before shrugging them off.

"You're going to regret that." Jason snarls, and Steve squares up a second time, expecting to be rushed, when the sharp snickt! of a switchblade freezes them both.

"I think we're done here." Munson says, knife in hand.

The blade he holds is stained a deep, russet red. Crusty flakes fall off it, drifting gently down to the patio floor.

Jason's eyes boggle at it for a moment before he stands up straight.

"Now it makes sense. You're weak, Harrington, letting the Freak get his claws into you." Jason spits bloodstained saliva down at Eddie's feet. "No wonder Coach wants Billy as co-captain!"

Steve just scoffs.

"Chrissy!" Carver barks, making the poor girl jump. "Come here, we're leaving!"

Trembling, but stepping closer to Steve, she shakes her head.

"Chrissy." Jason orders again, and has the audacity to point to his feet, like a man commanding his dog.

"No." Chrissy says it quietly at first, voice a little shaky, before she seems to realize it.

She stands taller, repeats herself in a stronger voice. "No, Jason. We're done."

Jason stares at her, hard. "Chrissy, your mother told me to bring you home. So I'm going to take you home and get you away from this--demon and his lackey!"

It doesn't sound loving.

It sounds like a threat.

He steps forward, hand out to grab her arm and Steve tenses, shifting to step in front of Chrissy.

Eddie beats him there.

The word demon seems to awaken something in him, because his face is now grinning theatrically, voice dipping low in pitch.

"You heard her, Carver. She said no, and even I respect a lady's wish. So run along now," he walks two fingers in the air, from the hand not waving the knife around. "before I decide to make you and her both one of mine, just as I did Harrington!"

Jason actually crosses himself, before making one last attempt for Chrissy.

"That monster is dangerous. if you don't come with me, I'll have to alert your parents." He locks eyes with her. "For the good of your soul."

Steve snorts at that crock of shit, but Eddie lunges forward, slashing the knife in the air.

It's nowhere near Jason, but the guy leaps a foot back anyway.

"Begone!" Eddie booms, and that's all it takes for Jason and his cronies to huff and puff and stride away.

He keeps his arms in the air for a few beats more, before dropping them when it's clear Jason won't be back.

"So I'm yours, huh?" Steve drawls, as Eddie finally puts his hands down and turns to face them.

The guys scary face drops into something almost excited, and Steve can practically see the adrenaline crackling through him.

"Hey it worked. Carver's a religious nut, he goes running anytime you even hint at Satan." Eddie shrugs, grinning wildly. "Put on a little show and poof! Him and his flying monkeys melt away!"

He mimes melting and Steve stares at him for it, until he hears Chrissy laughing next to him.

Eddie grins at her and Steve is hit with the realization that it was for her benefit. To make her feel better about her psycho ex.

Something fond and familiar winds through his chest as the other boy bows.

He refuses to put a name to it.

"Did you paint your knife?" He asks instead, rubbing the hand he hit Jason with.

"What?" Eddie asks, startled out of his court jester act.

Steve nods to his hand holding the switchblade. "That's not blood, it's way too red."

"Ah." Eddie turns the grin back on, and this time it's for Steve. "Yeah, it's uh. Modeling paint. Not like Carver would know the difference."

Unspoken was the fact that he hadn't thought Steve would.

Prior to last year, he'd have been right.

Drunken cheering erupts into wild yells inside, breaking whatever spell the three of them were under.

Hargrove's voice is the loudest among them, and the dude is definitely wasted.

Steve has a feeling Hargrove also knows the difference between paint and blood, rendering Munson's knife trick useless if the dick tried to start something.

"Do you want a ride home, Chrissy?" He asks quietly.

"If it's not a bother." She says, wiping tears shed refused to let fall from her eyes.

Chrissy Cunningham was a lot stronger than people gave her credit for.

"Come on, Munson, I think it's time we all make our exit." Steve says, finding himself weirdly unwilling to leave the older teen behind.

Eddie could hold his own, but given how badly things were playing out Steve figured it was best if they all just called it a day.

"Yeah lemme just…" Munson puts his blade away, fumbling at his pockets for a moment before turning and snatching up a metal lunchbox.

"There! After you, my liege." He says, before opening the lunchbox to make it talk.

"My lady." He makes it say, pitching his voice high.

Chrissy breaks into giggles again and Steve rolls his eyes, but he claps his good hand on Eddie's shoulder as he walks past.

Eddie smiles at him, this one a bit softer than the others, eyes sparkling and Steve chooses not to read into that either.

The three of them walk together, Eddie splitting off to his van after Chrissy thanks him.

Part Two

[starrystevie]

"what are you doing," eddie mumbles in confusion, hair fanned out on steve's pillow, the moonlight streaming in giving him a hazy halo.

there's a hand on the side of his face and it's cupping his cheek, thumb stroking over his skin. it's soft, so soft, too soft. another hand is trapping his against the mattress, fingers trailing over his forearm before tangling into his own and squeezing tight. it's gentle, so gentle, too gentle.

eddie isn't soft, eddie isn't gentle. eddie isn't making love in a full size bed with wallpaper that matches the drapes. he isn't fluttering kisses in time with fluttering heartbeats and the fluttering wings of butterflies trapped in his stomach like the most lovely cage.

eddie is fucking at 2am when there's enough intoxication to make him look like he's worth it. he's rough and wild, quick and easy. a means to a barely wanted end because he's there and willing and with long enough hair to let people imagine he's someone else.

he should be caged instead of the damn butterflies. he bares his teeth and thrashes his limbs just to fight and see what he can get away with. he laughs loud and brash in the face of sweetness just to see anger, just to see hurt.

he has half a mind to think he's a feral animal that's hardly been trained, performing in some fucked up circus that charges two bucks to see him snarl and hurl insults at anyone who passes by. he bites at the hands that try to touch, try to feed, proving to the onlookers that he's only worth the pocket change they pay to see him.

but steve. he's holding his face like he wants to, holding his hand like it's the most important thing in the world. he's pressing kisses along eddie's jaw without any hurry, without any rush, kissing just to kiss. feeling just to feel. he's like a ray of goddamn sunshine even in the darkness that midnight provides, warming eddie from the inside out.

eddie wants to run. he wants to scream. he wants to feel like he's allowed steve's soft and gentle but he's-

"is this not okay?" and now steve's looking at him with all of whatever he's trying to give him lacing into his face, his eyes and spit slick lips sparkling in the moonlight like a shiny new toy. "do you not like it?"

concern and care are different sides of the same steve shaped coin and if eddie looks hard enough, he can see them blurring together in his frustratingly beautiful sparkling eyes and those damn butterflies start to come back.

"no, it's-" he let's out a sigh, relaxing his tight muscles and sinking into the bed, sinking into whatever steve is willing to give him. "just different, is all. good different, i think."

steve smiles and eddie shakily mirrors it back, before he's ducking his head again and slotting their lips together, fingers still holding tight to eddie's, still cupping his face like it's something precious.

eddie's come to terms with the taste of the metal bars of his cage, teeth wearing down as he tries to bite his way to freedom. maybe this time he'll let himself get used to the taste of soft and gentle smiles if it means loving steve.

[yabakuboi]

okay but a like post-series fic i want that's like: steve harrington being the only man left in hawkins fighting monsters

and not like a 'everyone died, last man standing' way but just. they beat it back, the story ends, nice little tie-up and neatly concluded, eleven loses her powers because their world is completely cut from the other. and life goes on. eddie (yes, eddie lives au don't fight me) goes off with his band, robin-nancy-jargyle off to separate cities for college. the kids go to high school, graduate high school, and scatter across the country. joyce and hop buy a beach house far-far-far away from goddamn hawkins indiana.

steve though. steve stays. he does it too without comment, takes all their calls telling him all these amazing things. the years pass. the calls are fewer and far between. he's mostly in contact with only dustin and robin. except robin's out of country doing some crazy temp job in some remote country, she never catches him at home right now so just leaves him messages. and it takes a couple of weeks for dustin to realize he hasn't gotten steve on the phone.

frantically he calls around "have you heard from steve???" except the most people talk to steve anymore is like phone calls during holidays and holy shit what could have happened??

and what if it's back?

cue everyone who can in that moment, rushing back. eddie hopping on a flight from fucking london direct to indianapolis somehow, heart in his throat. he manages to meet hopper in the airport and they pick up max and dustin at the bus station.

they get to hawkins that is even more different that what they left. a smaller town, a town that shuts down completely when the sun sets. it's creepy and deserted.

except for the fucking upside down monsters of course.

and they're in their stupid little rental in front of this demogorgon and they're screaming but then the thing just goes splat on the concrete and steve fucking harrington is blinking owlishly at them.

"Oh, hey guys!" he calls jogging up to the driver's side window. "Wow, what brought you back down this way? You should have told me, I would have told you about the curfew!"

turns out steve just forgot to pay his phone bill that month, didn't even realize he was missing calls and he's been fighting monsters the entire time because actually they WEREN'T cut off from the upside down at all and he's just been casually fighting monsters for the remaining hawkins residence—the whole town knows now and steve's the guy you call when you have a monster problem

sidebar: WAYNE still lives in hawkins, and he and steve are best friends, eddie munson you are gonna LOSE YOUR MIND

[solarmorrigan]

Hands Where I Can See Them, Part 4

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

The only thing Eddie is dreading as much as Steve’s return for his things is Wayne’s inevitable question about where Steve is at all.

After all, Steve has practically been living with them for weeks – something that Eddie may not have allowed himself to consider the significance of, but which Wayne cannot have failed to notice. Though Steve had (apparently) felt the need to do things around the trailer to stay in Wayne’s good graces, he really didn’t have to worry about it; Wayne likes him, and he’ll be asking sooner or later just where Steve has gone.

‘Sooner’ comes two nights after Eddie royally fucks things over. It’s Wayne’s night off, and there’s really no avoiding him; their new trailer is bigger than the last, but it’s still close quarters, and Eddie gets caught when he passes through the living room to get a drink from the kitchen.

“Noticed Steve isn’t here tonight,” Wayne says, blunt as hell, because he doesn’t see the point in doing things any other way.

“Nope,” Eddie says shortly, grabbing a glass from the cabinet and filling it from the tap.

“Wasn’t here last night, either,” Wayne goes on.

“He was not,” Eddie confirms.

“Wasn’t here when I got in yesterday morning,” Wayne says.

“You are a veritable font of observation tonight,” Eddie says, only a little snarky.

Wayne shrugs. “Hard not to notice when he’s here nine days out of ten, then suddenly up and disappears,” he says. He pauses a moment before adding, “Stuff’s gone from the bathroom, too.”

Eddie occupies himself with slowly swallowing down half his glass of water before he answers. “Yeah.”

“Don’t suppose he’s going on a trip,” Wayne doesn’t quite ask, and Eddie lets out a bitter sort of laugh.

“Loving the optimism from you, but no, not… not so much.”

There are a few beats of silence, and then Wayne lets out a slow sigh. Eddie knows him well enough to understand the sound of it – he’s just decided to get involved.

“You two have a fight?”

“Something like that,” Eddie mutters.

“Well that’s vague as hell, son. You have a fight, or didn’t you?” Wayne prods.

Slowly, Eddie shakes his head. “No, I– I don’t think so. I think it was all me,” he says, finally looking up from his glass and meeting Wayne’s questioning gaze. “I fucked up, Wayne.”

There’s no immediate judgement coming from Wayne, no suspicion or scorn, not even a shake of the head and some variation of “Of course you did.” There’s only a measured sort of curiosity in his stare, the same way it’s been since Eddie was a kid and Wayne was trying to figure him out; it’s sort of comforting in its familiarity, in its neutrality.

“You wanna tell me about it?” Wayne asks.

Eddie knows that if he says no, Wayne will let it go. He might keep sending curious and worried looks Eddie’s way, he might ask a few more prodding questions over the next few days, but he won’t make Eddie say anything he doesn’t want to. And Eddie doesn’t really want to – but he thinks that maybe he needs to.

“If… you had to define mine and Steve’s relationship, what would you say?” Eddie asks after a moment.

Wayne cocks an eyebrow at him. “I’d say that feels like a trick question.”

Eddie lets out a little huff of a laugh. “It’s not, I swear. I’m seriously curious,” he says. “There are no wrong answers – go.”

“Well,” Wayne says, still eyeing Eddie consideringly, “I don’t know if you kids put labels on things these days or what, but from the outside, I’d say you’re dating. I’d say that boy is fully in love with you and that you’re at least halfway to loving him back.”

“Right.” Eddie gives a jerky nod. “Seems like that’s what pretty much everyone thinks.”

“But that’s not what’s going on,” Wayne takes a guess.

“Well, that depends on your perspective,” Eddie says, a little high and tight.

“Well, the only perspectives worth a damn here’re yours’n Steve’s,” Wayne shoots back. “So what would those be?”

Eddie drains the last of his water, turning away to put the glass in the sink. “Steve… shares your perspective. Or, uh– he did. But I… I didn’t realize he was so serious. I thought we were just kind of messing around.”

The silence from behind Eddie is so thick that he can’t help but finally turn around and meet Wayne’s gaze again.

“That’s a hell of a blind spot, Ed,” Wayne says simply, and Eddie folds in on himself a bit, crossing his arms over his chest. His main defense has always been to become larger than life – to make big gestures and even bigger speeches, but everything about this situation makes him feel like nothing so much as small.

“Yeah,” he says quietly.

“So, what, you figured out how serious he was and thought you didn’t want that?” Wayne asks, and Eddie hunches a little further in on himself.

“Nope. No, that– would’ve been better, actually. If that’s what happened. But that’s not what happened, because did I mention I fucked up? Because I seriously fucked up.” Eddie’s rambling is stemmed by an expectant look from Wayne. “It’s just – the other night, when the guys were over, we got to talking about it. The whole… me and Steve thing. As in, they thought me and Steve were a thing. And they asked me about it. While Steve was out of the room. And then he, uh. Hm.” Eddie rubs a hand nervously over his chin. “He walked back in when I was in the middle of telling them that he's just a friend and that we’re just having fun. And that’s… when I found out how serious he was.”

“Eddie…”

“I know. I know!” Eddie doesn’t even have to look at Wayne to catch the disappointment coming off of him, so he doesn’t. He scrubs hands over his face and then just leaves him there, telling the rest of the story to his palms. “He was so fucking upset, Wayne, I think– I think I actually made him cry? And the only reason he hasn’t been here to get the rest of his stuff out of the trailer yet is because he was down with a migraine the next day. Like, I hurt him so badly I made him physically ill. So I didn’t just fuck up, but I’m actually a horrible human being and should probably spend the rest of my days living in isolation so I don’t ruin anyone else’s life.”

Wayne is silent for so long that Eddie is eventually forced to peek out from behind his fingers.

“You’re not gonna tell me how bad I fucked up?” Eddie asks, still a bit muffled.

“Seems like you have that covered already,” Wayne says, then he holds up one arm in offer, nodding towards the empty spot beside him on the couch. “C’mere.”

He doesn’t need to ask Eddie twice. No matter how old he gets, Eddie doesn’t think a genuine hug from his uncle will ever stop being comforting, and regardless of whether or not he thinks he actually deserves it right now, he’s going to take it. He crashes down onto the couch and leans heavily into Wayne’s side, sighing as Wayne wraps his arm around his shoulders.

“You’re not a bad person, Ed. You made a mistake, s’all,” Wayne says, and Eddie scoffs.

“Pretty big fucking mistake,” he mutters.

“Yep, that was a doozy. You hurt someone you care about, and you might not be able to fix it all the way. But that doesn’t make you terrible. Makes you human.” Wayne gives Eddie a comforting squeeze. “And Steve ain’t a bad person, either. He’ll know you mean it when you tell him you’re sorry.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says quietly.

“You think about what you’re gonna do when he does show to get the rest of his stuff?” Wayne asks.

“Besides grovel?” Eddie shoots back.

“I mean, what’re you gonna grovel for?”

Eddie lets out a long breath. “I… I know I might not be able to fix it, but I just – I want the chance to try. I’m hoping he’ll just give me that chance.” Eddie pauses for a moment, choked by the dread of the thought that Steve might not give him that chance. “Things don’t have to go back to the way they were, but I at least want him to know that even if I’m shit at showing it, I do care.”

“Sounds like a decent place to start,” Wayne says.

“Think so?” Eddie asks.

“Mm.”

“Well… I hope Steve thinks so, too.”

Wayne gives his shoulders another squeeze and says nothing more, but he doesn’t really have to. He’s already settled Eddie’s nerves more than he’d thought possible; just this is more than enough.

Now Eddie just has to try to hold onto the feeling long enough to talk to Steve.

-

It turns out, Eddie doesn’t have to hold onto the feeling for very long at all; the very next morning—two days after Robin had read Eddie the riot act and left him to begin tentatively planning—another knock comes at the door.

It’s ten in the morning – not as early as Eddie had expected, but early enough that he’s not long out of bed when he opens the door to find Steve on the other side.

In contrast to Eddie’s sweatpants and t-shirt, Steve looks like he’s trying very hard to look like he’s alright. His polo is clean and tucked in, the collar is straight, his hair is as perfectly styled as ever – but there’s still something off. There are dark circles under his eyes, stark against a paler than normal complexion, and none of the ease or contentment that Eddie has grown used to shines from his face. He feels a little like he wants to mourn its absence.

“Hey,” Steve says, nodding in greeting.

“Hey,” Eddie says back, because for all his thoughts and planning, he hadn’t really considered how to start this encounter.

“I came to get my shit out of your way,” Steve says, and Eddie frowns.

It’s not in my way, he wants to say. You’re not in my way. Leave your stuff. Stay.

“Uh. Yeah, sure,” Eddie says instead, stepping aside to let Steve in.

Steve is carrying a cardboard box, but doesn’t seem to have anything or anyone else in tow. For as spread throughout Eddie’s life as Steve has become, he wonders if all of him will fit into that one box.

“Kinda surprised you didn’t bring Buckley to help pack,” Eddie says, glancing back out the screen door, as if Robin might appear out of nowhere.

“Just dropped her off at work,” Steve says. “I figured she probably already had… words for you when she picked up my meds, and I didn’t think any of us needed an encore.”

“I don’t know,” Eddie says quietly. “The stuff she said got me thinking.”

In the process of grabbing a jacket he’d left behind off one of the hooks by the door, Steve only glances back at Eddie. “I’m sure she had a lot to say,” he says, carefully neutral.

“Yeah. She, uh – definitely did. Can we talk?” Eddie asks.

Steve sighs. “Eddie…”

“Just hear me out, please. Then I’ll get out of your way and let you pack in peace, I promise,” Eddie says.

“We don’t– have to talk about it,” Steve says, turning back to face Eddie. “Look, I’m sorry for putting my weird expectations on you. I was reading into stuff that wasn’t there, and I made assumptions instead of just talking to you, and that’s on me. So I’m gonna just – get out of your hair, and you won’t have to deal with my stupid, delusional bullshit anymore.”

“No, that’s not– Steve–” Eddie reaches out for Steve as he tries to brush past on his way to the bedroom, where most of his belongings are. He gets a hand around Steve’s bicep and, though Steve doesn’t jerk away this time, he goes stiff and still beneath Eddie’s touch, prompting Eddie to let go.

It hurts; even though Eddie’s done it to himself, the reaction still hurts. He’s always reached for Steve in the past, always had his hands on him, and Steve had always welcomed him, even before they’d started sleeping together. Now, Eddie takes a step back, forcing himself to give Steve some space.

“That’s not what I want to say at all,” he says. “I mean – I would’ve liked if we’d talked about it, because then I would’ve known, and I could’ve appreciated what it was – what we were doing.”

Steve turns back to face Eddie, his gaze snapping straight to him with equal suspicion and confusion. “What?”

“Steve, you weren’t reading into things that weren’t there, you’re not– you’re not stupid or delusional, I was just – I was sending you mixed signals,” Eddie says. “I was so wrapped up in thinking that I knew what was going on, that I didn’t look at what I really had, and I’m sorry. But if I knew, if I’d just gotten my head out of my ass, you have to believe that in a heartbeat, I would have–”

“Don’t,” Steve cuts in sharply.

“Steve–”

“I don’t need whatever this is, Eddie,” Steve snaps. “You don’t need to have pity on your pathetic ex-whatever I am to you, okay? It’s okay, just– just let it go.”

“This isn’t pity,” Eddie insists with an incredulous little laugh. “It’s fucking not, I swear! This is me saying that I fucked up and I hurt you and I want to make it up to you. I haven’t done anything to deserve it, but I want the chance to show you how sorry I am and how much you mean to me– in whatever capacity you’ll let me.”

“Whatever capacity?” Steve stares at him, brows furrowed.

“Whatever you’ll be comfortable with. As a friend, or… as more, if that bridge hasn’t burned,” Eddie says.

“What, so now I’m relationship material?” Steve asks, pointed.

Eddie winces. “I shouldn’t have said that. I shouldn’t have said any of that, and if I could go back in time and slap myself upside the head before I let any of that shit out and hurt you with it, I would. I know that… I know I didn’t pay enough attention to you, but I also wasn’t paying very much attention to how I was feeling,” he says. “Because honestly? I’m kind of a moron, Steve. I’ve never had sex with someone I really liked, with someone who was anything like a friend, and when I started wanting to be around you all the time, and always wanting you within reach, and when every little thing started to remind me of you, I just thought… yeah, this is what friends-with-benefits feels like. Y’know, like a fucking idiot.”

Steve doesn’t laugh. “I don’t know if I can trust you on that,” he says softly, and that’s fair.

It hurts, but it’s fair.

“Then let me earn your trust back. Please, Steve, just… give me the chance,” Eddie implores, doesn’t even care that he’s basically begging – Eddie doesn’t beg, but for Steve, he’ll make an exception. For Steve, he thinks he’ll do just about anything.

Pursing his lips, Steve looks at the floor beside Eddie’s feet for a long moment, and Eddie gives him the time to sort his thoughts out.

“I want to say yes. Part of me just wants to accept your apology and pretend that none of this happened. Just keep going the way we were,” he says. “But I can’t keep doing that – ignoring shit. I just… can’t.”

“I’m not asking you to,” Eddie says. “I don’t want things to be like they were before, I want – I want to be better. I want to do better.”

“How?” Steve asks, both challenging and curious.

“I want to do it right. I want to show you how much I appreciate you, and how much you mean to me. I want to treat you like you deserve to be treated,” Eddie insists. “And if that’s just by being the best friend I can be, then that’s what I’ll do, but I would love—love—if you’d let me romance you.”

That briefly breaks through Steve’s stony façade, and he lets out a huff of a laugh. “Romance me?”

“Shit, yeah. Flowers and chocolates and candle-lit dates – the whole nine yards,” Eddie says with a slow grin. “All the things you’ve given other people but that no one has ever given you.”

“I…” Steve starts, his own humor fading quickly. “I don’t know.”

It’s better than an outright ‘no.’

“That’s okay,” Eddie promises. “You don’t have to know right now. I can wait. I’m a patient kinda guy.”

(That’s an absolute lie, and they both know it, but Eddie will find all the patience in the world if Steve needs time to think.)

Slowly, Steve nods. “I think… Just, give it a couple of weeks, okay? Really think about it, and if this – if I’m something you still want by then, come talk to me again,” he says. “Alright?”

“Yeah.” Eddie nods rapidly. “As much time as you want. I’m not going to up and change my mind. Two weeks, I’ll ask again.”

Steve shrugs, taking a step back towards the bedroom.

“I will,” Eddie promises – not defensive, but certain. He can wait two weeks. He can wait as long as Steve needs him to. Maybe he can take the time to get his shit together.

He does care about Steve. He does pay attention – and he’s going to prove it.

But in the meantime, the only thing Steve has asked for is space, so Eddie gives it to him. He retreats to the kitchen to let Steve pack up in peace, trying hard not to feel bereft at the thought of the gaps Steve will be leaving behind.

If he’s lucky—if he’s very, very lucky—it won’t be forever.

Part 5

-

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