#soft Steve

[italiansteebie]

steve harrington has a bad habit.

he takes in the dogs and cats no one wants anymore.

he's had elderly dogs, disabled cats, puppies that have grown and lost their sparkle, kittens that had been left in the dumpster. he's taken dogs that families can't handle anymore, and he does it with love. he uses his parents huge house to home animals that deserve it, animals that fill the emptiness.

so what happens after vecna is all said and done, and eddie's dead and gone, and a mangy dog crawls out from under eddie's old trailer while steve's there helping max do some minor repairs? and what happens when steve takes the dog home, names him ozzy, curtsy of eddie taking up every inch of his brain, and nurses the skinny thing back to health, along with the other strays he's taken in.

but ozzy never really liked to be around the other animals, always choosing to curl up next to steve, and maybe it was because he knew how much bigger he was than all of them because, damn. ozzy was a big ass dog.

until one night, steve shoots out of bed, drenched in sweat, chest heaving as he's recovering from a nightmare, and he catches a glimpse of none other than eddie. eddie, who's supposed to be dead. eddie who's supposed to be dead in the upside down, nonetheless, peering at him through his doorway. "what the fuck," he breaths, watching as eddie flinches nervously, "surprise," the metal head cheers flatly.

"what the fuck."

[navnae]

Every time Eddie goes out to practice with his band, in his guitar case there’s always these cute little notes written from Steve wishing him nothing but the best and good luck with his session. That gives Eddie so much motivation to practice as hard as he can and sometimes he jots the things that Steve has written on those notes into his own journal for their next song. One day it catches Steve off guard when he’s at work and he leaves briefly to the back to help Robin with putting away some containers. When he comes back out there’s a note on the counter and he’s taken aback by how he couldn’t hear the store door make any noise. Steve picks up the note and blushes immediately as he realized exactly who wrote the note.

You are amazing. I just thought you should know. <3 - E.M.

Steve’s heart started to pound just by reading the note and with a smile he slipped it into his pocket then went back to work with a little pep in his step. Both of them continue to give each other these cute notes right before they got out anywhere and now it’s become a tradition for them.

[raccoonsandrangoons]

Stumblin’ In

✼ Steve accepts a job as a preschool teacher. You stumble into his classroom running late to pick up your daughter.

✼ A/N : it’s been over a year since I’ve published anything but Steve holds a special place in my heart and I just had to write this for him. Named after my favorite selfship song because what else is fanfic but self indulgence?

✼ 1.7k words

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For years now, it was just you and your daughter, Jubilee, living in a trailer down the road from Eddie and your sister.

Her father left the moment he found out about her, scaring you away from any further thoughts of romance. But your sweet little Jubilee was enough for you.

Being a single mom was tough, but you refused to let your sister and Eddie help too much. You already felt like an emotional burden on your sister, and you didn’t want to burden her too much when she’s already taking care of Wayne (a work injury has him taking an early retirement).

Wayne, sweetheart as he is, always insisted that you’re no burden. You and your little one were as much as family as Eddie and your sister.

“She helps ease the day when Eddie and ya sister are out,” Wayne always said.

A soft sigh left your lips and you looked at Wayne as your daughter ran around the front yard.

“I told you,” Wayne said, leaning back into his chair with his hands behind head. “I didn’t like that boy you brought to the wedding. Said he was bad news.”

“I should’ve listened to you, Uncle Wayne,” you said. “But then we wouldn’t have her, would we?”

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Steve loves his job. He never would imagine that he would ever be a preschool teacher, but he wouldn’t change it for anything. Really, he’s a daycare employee, but he’s in the preschool room, so he would consider himself a preschool teacher.

He had gotten the job on recommendation from Robin, the middle school band director. After Robin went off to college and came back a certified music teacher and Steve was still at Family Video, she said there was an opening for preschool at childcare not far from Hawkins schools.

“I know it’s not what you ever thought of, but you’re really good with kids,” Robin said. “I mean, look at Dustin!”

“Henderson’s all grown now; he’s in college,” Steve argued. “Besides he was in middle school when we met; these are little kids.”

“You were really good with the Byers baby when Johnathan and Nancy visited,” Robin quipped.

“That’s still different. That’s a baby baby, not a preschooler.”

“The pay is better than Family Video, I swear it,” Robin pressed. “And the insurance isn’t bad either!”

Steve thought for a moment. It was close to his last year on his parents’ insurance, and he really needed to find a place of his own.

“I think it’s worth a shot to at least apply. Do you really want to be stuck at Family Video for the rest of your life?”

So Steve applied, and what a shock it was when he got a call for an interview a couple days later and was hired within a week from that.

His dad, naturally, wasn’t pleased. It had ignited a massive fight.

“I don’t know, why don’t you come work for me?” Steve’s dad said the moment Steve told his parents he had applied for the job over a rare family dinner.

“I don’t want to work for the company or even in an office,” Steve huffed while cutting into the dry chicken. “And this is a decent paying job. It’s enough that I can move out.”

“You’re always welcome here as long as you need, honey,” his mother interjected, as if Steve hadn’t spent the majority of his time at home alone.

“I’m twenty-three, Mom,” he said. “I think it’s time I find my own. A real job, and they don’t even care that I don’t have a college degree.”

“Don’t you think it’s a little gay for you to be teaching preschool?” Steve’s dad commented.

Steve set down his fork and glared at his father. “Don’t say that.”

“Well, it’s a woman’s job,” his father pressed. “So are you?”

“A woman? No.”

“Gay, son. Are you?”

Tension grew thick.

“No, but don’t say that.”

After his fight with his father, he moved in with Robin. More rumors circulated around but were calmed by Chrissy, Robin’s friend from college, also living with them. The rumors were quickly dispelled by Robin’s statement in the Hawkins Middle teacher’s lounge that the two of them were just helping a friend in need until he got on his own feet. Which was exactly Steve’s plans, to save enough and live on his own for a bit.

It had only been a month into the new school year, but already Steve knew he had made the right decision even without Robin’s “I told you so.”

It had only been a month into the new school year, but already Steve knew he had made the right decision even without Robin’s “I told you so.”

Just a few more months and he would have enough saved to move into his own place and be out of Robin’s hair.

He’d long since given up on romantic love, settling on just being “professional babysitter” all his life as Dustin had said.

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Steve didn’t mind staying late. He understood that some days things ran over and parents would inevitably run late every once in a while.

He especially didn’t mind when the kid in question is his favorite. He knows he isn’t supposed to have favorites, but Jubilee is the kindest and most well-behaved child Steve has.

Jubilee didn’t seem to mind either, content in finishing the page out of the coloring book Steve gave her. She lifts up the book to show Steve the blue

“Looking good, honey!” he praised. “I really like the blue on the ladybug. Creative!”

After an hour however, Steve started to worry.

He dug around in his desk for papers to see if Jubilee has an emergency contact. After a moment of fumbling around, he finds her folder and flips through until he sees:

_____ Hargrove - Mother

(xxx) xxx-xxxx

Hargrove

His heart sinks into his chest and he feels a tightening. Billy has a baby. Jealousy is an ugly feeling. Billy Hargrove has the cutest daughter while the clock is still ticking on Steve’s dream of six little nuggets.

Shaking his head and telling himself there are bigger things to worry about than a long dead high school rivalry, Steves picked up the classroom phone and dialed the number listed as “mother”.

No answer.

He called a second time. Still no answer.

He looked back down at the folder and scanned for other names.

Jade Munson - Aunt

Eddie Munson - Uncle

Wayne Munson - Uncle

(xxx) xxx-xxxx

Munson

Steve still regularly visited with Eddie. How could a kid in his class be related to one of his good friends without him ever knowing?

Steve sank back into his chair.

Billy was a dad and Eddie was an uncle.

With a heavy sigh, he picked up the phone again and was just about to call Eddie when the door to his room slammed open.

Breathless and her hair falling out of a once neat bun was the most beautiful woman Steve had ever seen stumbling into the doorway.

“I’m so sorry,” you panted. You hunched over, trying to regain you breath. “I thought,” you said between heavy breaths. “I thought it was Eddie’s turn to pick her up.”

Steve had about two seconds to drink you in. As you lifted your head and met Steve’s gaze, he realized immediately why you were so familiar. You were the maid of honor at Eddie’s small wedding a few years ago, the one he couldn’t stop gawking at despite Robin’s teasing—the one he almost managed to find the courage to ask for a dance before he saw you laughing and dancing with none other than Billy Hargrove.

“Mama!” Jubilee exclaimed. The young girl threw down her crayons and ran to you with her tiny arms up, ready to scooped up into her mother’s arms.

“Hi, baby!” you said. “How was school?” You placed a gentle kiss on her cheek.

Steve’s gut twisted with want as he heard little cry of “mama!” and watched the reunion before him. He felt dirty thinking of a practical stranger in such a way, but he couldn’t help it. You were gorgeous and genuinely cared for your daughter, and Steve, at his core, just wanted a family to call his own.

He felt a wave of emotions, primarily guilt, before he remembered there was no father listed in the girl’s emergency contacts. No Billy, just you, then who he assumed was your sister, Eddie, then Wayne. The evil bug of jealousy had backed off a bit, and Steve, despite chastising himself, felt a twinge of hope.

He lets his gaze drift to your left ring finger and sees that there’s no ring. Once again, he chastised himself for looking in the first place, and then a second time for the relief he feels over it.

“Thank you so much,” you say, as you hold your child who’s pressing her cheek against yours. “I’m so sorry. “I really thought Eddie was off today and would be taking her home, so I agreed to work late.”

Steve smiled and assured you that it’s okay. “She’s a real angel and I can see now where she gets it,” he said.

You felt a blush furiously creep up your cheeks. Your face is hot, burning, and you know you can’t hide it. You’re not used to compliments or any kind of attention. You’d long since given up on romance since Jubilee’s father left, focusing all your energy into raising her and working.

“I swear it won’t ever happen again. Thank you so much.” You looked at the clock on the wall.

6:30.

Steve had stayed for an extra hour at least.

“Oh my god! It’s so late.” You looked at your daughter in your arms and tickle her stomach. “I bet you’re hungry aren’t you.”

Instead, it’s Steve’s stomach that growls, and it’s his turn to flush with embarrassment. You turned your face towards Steve at the sound, and he sheepishly cast his eyes down, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“I know this is a reach,” you said, shuffling your feet in nerves and moving your daughter from one hip to the other. “But could I repay you by making you dinner?”

“That actually sounds wonderful,” Steve said, his voice almost getting stuck in the mess of flutters his heart and stomach were making. “Thank you, please.”

“Mama?” Jubilee tugged on your ear to get your attention. She whispered in her three year old way that everyone within a decent radius could still hear. “Is Mr. Steve coming home with us?”

“Oh well, yes? I think so?” You looked to Steve seeking confirmation. “Uh, unless tonight is too soon…”

“No!” Steve exclaimed. “I mean, no. No. It’s not too soon for me. Tonight sounds perfect.”

[stevesbipanic]

Someone New by Hozier is a Steve Harrington song.

[faofinn]

No.12 "I haven't slept in days, but who's counting?" 

@whumptober-archive

Red | Insomnia | "I'm up. I'm up!"

Harrison swayed as he stood, staring blankly at Steve in front of him. He could see his mouth moving, but he couldn't work out what he was saying. He nodded for the sake of it, bored of the conversation and just so tired. Steve knew he wasn't paying attention, but he didn't really mind. He knew Harrison was struggling, it was beyond obvious, but there was nothing he could do. Harrison wasn't going to accept help, and he couldn't force him. 

The conversation seemed to be over, and Harrison didn't have anything else to do. He was exhausted, so disappeared into his room, flopping onto his bed with a groan. 

Steve gave him some space, knowing full well he needed the rest. He was worried about him, of course, but there wasn’t much he could do. He couldn’t fix his sleep, just had to hope he got the peace he needed and was able to drift off. He kept quiet around the house, careful not to make too much noise. 

He’d been worried about Harrison for days, up seemingly all hours. Even when he went to his room, Steve could hear him up, doing things, moving stuff around, going to the kitchen and back at 2am. It kept Steve awake, worrying about him, worrying that he might go back to alcohol, use that to finally settle him off, but for the mean time, he didn’t. 

He did some work in his little office, reading through some old research papers for a patient he’d had on his mind. Time passed, and he’d not heard anything out of Harrison. He hoped that was a good sign, that his son had finally managed to get some sleep. He worried about nightmares, too, knowing full well that was why he’d had so much trouble in the first place, but things were quiet. He typed some notes up, set about making dinner, and still hadn’t heard anything out of Harrison. He wasn’t about to wake him, not for food. He’d cope missing one meal, he could have it another time. 

Once Steve had eaten and put Harrison’s portion in the fridge, he watched some TV for a while and then headed to bed himself. It was late now, and he finally worked up the courage to open Harrison’s door, carefully so not to make a sound. He was passed out asleep on top of his duvet, lights still on and curtains undrawn. With a shake of his head, Steve slipped inside. He draped a blanket over his son, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head, drew the curtains quietly and flicked the light off. Hopefully he wouldn’t get woken up by the cold, or the light in the morning.

[abbatoirablaze]

Running From A Dream Master List

This series is complete! ✔️

Annalise hasn't had the best life.

She was abused as a child. And her relationships as a teenager and young adult weren't much better. But when she became an adult, she was quickly married, settling for the first man who proposed.

She preferred to live in her fantasy land though...in the land of dreams. Her nightmares were horrible, yes, but it was her shining white knight, a man that saved her, by the name of Steve.

He was a dream in every sense of the word to her. Only...Steve looked a lot like a nightmare, his best friend, Bucky. But Steve didn't complain.

He was a dream, being loved by a dreamer, protecting her from the things that went bump in the night.

But after years of being with her in the dream land, projecting Bucky over himself isn't enough...and he needs her to see him. The real him, before the prince of dreams finds out, and sends them back to get re-molded.

Chapters

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Warnings will not be posted in each chapter. It will contain dark themes like cheating/infidelity, manipulation, jealousy, angst, noncon/dubcon relationships, nightmares, dubcon sex, rape, and murder.

Prequel To Falling For A Nightmare

[themadknightuniverse]

Sun and Moon

[hairmetal666]

"I'm going to marry you one day, Steve Harrington," he declares to all and sundry (Steve and Robin) in Family Video.

Steve laughs, ducks his head, hair a bountiful cascade that doesn't move an inch. He's blushing but it's not, like, a reaction to the sentiment of marriage. Steve knows Eddie is just like that, flirtatious and over-the-top and incapable of not speaking his thoughts as soon as they enter his head.

Robin roles her eyes, goes back to flipping through her magazine, something about cinema, and Eddie swipes his just rented movies off the counter.

"You think I'm joking," he twists so he's facing them, walking backwards to the door. "But I swear it, oh, beloved purveyor of movies and deleter of late fees."

"Yeah, yeah." Steve's face is pinker than before and Eddie recognizes and immediately forces himself to forget how cute it is. "But get out of here before I change my mind."

And Eddie, he loves to push his luck and also has very little filter between his brain and his mouth, so he says, "aw, don't be that way, Stevie, you love me."

Robin looks up, then, mouth a pursed twist as she tries not to laugh. "Gross, Eddie." She throws a Sour Patch at him. "Keep all that mushy stuff to when you two are alone."

It's his turn to blush, fierce and raging, and Steve whirls, squeaking, to whack Robin with a Twizzler.

Eddie points at her. "Rude, Buckley. You know I love you too."

"Again, gross." She sticks out her tongue, tinged blue from the Sour Patch.

"We really need to work on your ability to accept affection," Steve tells her.

She scowls, kicks him, makes Eddie laugh.

"I think that's my cue to leave, children." He says. He, quite literally, bows out of the store, just missing the barrage of candy thrown his way.

---

Three Months Later

Eddie stumbles into the Harrington house, kicking his boots off by the door. Steve's in the kitchen, fussing around the stove. His hair's askew and he's--

"Harrington, are you wearing an apron?" He ignores the kick in his chest at the sight. "You'll make a sweet little housewife one day."

"Shut-up," Steve says without any heat. "Try this."

He brandishes a spoon filled with red sauce in Eddie's direction, and Eddie--heart always on his sleeve--eagerly leans in to taste. He closes his eyes, savors, and it's good, truly. Perfect fresh acidity with just a burst of sweetness.

"It's amazing, baby," he says without thinking. He opens his eyes right in time to see Steve turning back to the sauce, blush high on his cheekbones.

"Thanks. You're making me nervous though, hovering." Steve hip checks him. "Go sit somewhere."

And Eddie does, jumps onto the island--the Harrington's are the kind of people who have an island--and chatters to Steve about his day, about his new campaign, about the new song he's trying to learn.

All the while, he's watching Steve cook, in his apron, with such care and thoughtfulness, with true command. Maybe it's the domesticity of the scene, maybe his raging crush, but he has this flash of the two of them in the future. In their kitchen, Steve cooking dinner, and Eddie's arms are wrapped around his waist, he's pressing kisses to his temple, complimenting all his hard work and--

Steve feeds him a bite of the finished pasta, and it's so good that he groans, full-throated, unembarrassed, and says--he says, "I'm going to marry you one day, Steve Harrington."

He laughs, face pink, batting Eddie's shoulder. "Go sit down, man. It's time to eat."

---

Two Months After That

Eddie's working on a new campaign when the storm rolls in, wind rocking the trailer, thunder and lightning crackling in the sky. The power doesn't go out, but only just barely, the flickers making his heart pound for reasons that have nothing to do with weather.

There's a knock on the trailer door, and he opens it to find Steve Harrington standing on the porch, hair plastered to his head, clothes soaked. Robin's bike is propped against one of the awning supports. Familiar panic snaps to life in his gut.

"God, Steve, are you okay? Did something happen? That's Robin's bike, where's the Beamer? Is it--is it Vecna? Is--" He's blabbering can't stop, so he shoves his palm against his lips.

"It's not--not Upside Down stuff." He runs a hand through his soggy hair. "Can I come in, man? I--I want to tell you something."

This snaps Eddie out of his panic, and he's moving aside, saying, "Oh my god, get in here, you're soaked. Let me get towels. Do you want a change of clothes, I can--"

Steve catches him by the elbow and he full stops at the look in those big hazel eyes, fearful and sad and he doesn't know what, but his anxiety amps back up.

"I was with Robin and we were--we were talking, you know? And I told her that I like somebody, like really like them, but it was unexpected and--and--it's a guy. He's a guy but I still like girls? Robin said--she said that I'm probably bisexual. That I like guys and girls and--and everyone, I think."

It sends shockwaves through him, and he hopes it doesn't show, doesn't think it shows, but he's having trouble processing. Steve is bi and he likes someone and--Eddie stuffs down the jealousy that claws at him, knows it's more important that he's here for his friend.

"Thank you for telling me, sweetheart." He reaches out, slow in case Steve doesn't want to be hugged, but he launches himself into Eddie's arms.

Eddie holds him tight, heedless of his wet clothes, can feel his shoulders shake, and it tears Eddie's heart in two. All he can do is hold Steve and offer comfort, jealousy be damned.

"You're so brave, honey," he says once the tears taper off.

Steve gives a wet chuckle, face still buried against Eddie's neck. "I don't know about that. I think I got snot in your hair."

"It'll wash out." He laughs. "Is now the time to welcome you to the family? Apparently, we're growing exponentially."

"Does the welcome include a cake or something? I could really use cake."

And God, Steve, is so fucking cute, so sweet, so--everything Eddie has always wanted, and he--it's an accident, or at least, thoughtless--he presses a kiss to Steve's temple. More than one.

Steve pulls back fast, and Eddie lets go immediately. "Sorry, sorry. I--that was stupid. You like someone already, and I--"

His words are cut off as Steve kisses him. Steve kisses him? His brain can't process, but he kisses back. Can't not, not with Steve. Like, he doesn't know anything, head empty, but his body is with the program.

They break apart, he's breathing hard. Steve is beautifully flushed, mouth red and swollen. "You like someone," is what Eddie says.

Steve laughs. "I like you, Munson. Fucking crazy about you."

He smiles, so big it hurts, so big it grows into a delight laugh. "I'm going to marry you one day, Steve Harrington," he says.

---

Six Years Later

They're in bed, Saturday morning, rain pattering softly on the window.

Steve places slow kisses against his naked tummy, makes him tremble, shiver with overstimulation.

"Baby," he whines. "Sweetheart."

Steve smiles up at him, something cold pressing against his ribs, then into his hand.

It's a ring, black metal, shiny and iridescent as he turns it in the light. "What--Steve?"

With one last kiss to his hip bone, Steve sits up, slips the ring onto Eddie's finger. "I'm going to marry you one day, Eddie Munson."

[whathehonestfuk]

Steve gets very well acquainted with hawkins general while Eddie is healing as he's wondering around when Eddie's busy (surgeries, physical therapy ect) and finds out there are babies that need to be held because they don't have anyone and nurses and doctors can't spend the necessary time to do it so he starts volunteering

Eddie is working on his mobility and was told to walk as much as he could but there's only so much walking up and down one hallway a man can take so he goes off to find Steve in the mythical land of babies (he'd heard about Steve's adventures because Steve came to hang out with spit up on his shirt once and robin complaining that it wasn't fair that all the cute nurses were obsessed with him just because he held a few newborns)

Eddie finds him swaying and cooing at the baby in his arms and man if he wasn't gone of Steve already he'd be absolutely done for

[italiansteebie]

eddie loves that he and steve are the same size

because when he buys himself big tshirts, he gets to see steve in big t-shirt's.

and he likes the way his vest hugs steve's shoulders just a tad tighter than his own.

and steve loves to see eddie warming up in the sweaters that are worn with love and tears of use. and he likes how they can trade clothes, and how when eddie leaves to play with his band, he can wear eddie's clothes and make it feel like he's still there. (and they share underwear too. because sometimes eddie likes the feeling of steve's briefs hugging his thighs, and steve likes the worn in softness of eddie's boxers).

steve loves that he and eddie are the same size

[hellfire--cult]

Harrington!reader who struck up a friendship with Billy after finding him crying. It wasn’t long until she developed a crush on the older boy. But she knew she was the least attractive girl in school, and on the cheerleading squad. Every girl was all over him, she never thought he’d see her that way.

Movie Night

I'm so sorry, I got carried away, and I made it super long, SO I HOPE YOU ENJOY AND I HOPE EVERYONE ELSE DOES this has: fluff, angst, mean brother persona on Steve's behalf, OOC Billy Hargrove, soft side.

wc: 8k (i got a lil inspired, no one requests Billy and I love to write him 😭)

Stupid Steve. Stupid school. Stupid fucking stereotypes.

You understand, you get it, the fucking sister of Steve Harrington should be the perfect girl, perfect as her idiotic brother. If only they knew that being in every single sport isn’t what Steve wants, it isn’t what he desires, it isn’t what he always dreamed about. 

But it’s not that perfection they want from you, oh no. It’s not your fault you have bad eye sight so you have to wear glasses, and for some reason that made you fucking undesirable. Just because you are wearing glasses, and you’ve been wearing them ever since middle school, where there were minimum problems with it, and now in high school when you just want to be able to date someone, or even kiss, it’s almost impossible because of them.

So yes, you knew people didn’t want to be with you, and you knew that it was all because of the idealization of the Harrington girl not meeting their expectations. Jokes on them, every single fucking guy in school looks like stepped on shit.

When you finally got into freshmen year, you already knew Steve was the most popular guy in school, always boosting about it at the dinner table, father always saying how proud he is for Steve being the captain of almost every fucking imaginable sport. You looked up to Steve, you really did look up to your brother… Until you crossed those forsaken high school doors, and the only face your brother sent you was that of disgust and turned his back on you.

And that sets your fate.

Now as a Junior, your brother finally graduates this year. Ever since he started dating Nancy who is in the same year as you, he has relatively changed. At home, he now tries to invite you to hang with him at the mall, or tell you to have dinner together when your parents aren’t home… You declined his invitation every time. You prefer to eat dinner in your bed, alone, while he drives away to be with Nancy. Just you, your books, and some good music. You are fine. 

It doesn’t help the fact that you have just one friend at school, and she’s not even always with you because she is Nancy’s Best Friend. Barb was always nice to you, and it’s the only one you talked to in class, because then in cheerleading practice, which you had to enter because you needed extracurricular credit because your parents said so, you were given the cold shoulder by every teammate there. You didn’t participate in the cheers really, you just wear the uniform every now and then and pass them bottles of water.

You just have to survive one year, just one more year and you can go to college, probably start anew, meet people, meet someone. You fixed your glasses on the bridge of your nose as you took notes while sitting at the bleachers, hearing the squeak of the tennis shoes of all the boys in the basketball team just going around. You hear a thump, making your eyes look up to see your brother laying on the floor, making you frown.

Then it made sense, as Billy Hargrove smirked, helping your brother stand up again. 

You knew that he wanted to take Steve’s position as the most popular guy at school, getting prom king and all that shit. You have heard your brother complaining about him on the phone sometimes, maybe to Nancy or to one of his friends. From what you’ve seen, Billy looked like a tough and irritating guy, and there is no need for you to get close to him at all, and you really could care less about what he does to your brother.

And that is basically your everyday life. Invisible, and you’re fine with that.

You’re fine. 

“Hey, can you believe that guy?” Your head snapped up to see your brother at your door, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest. You raised your eyebrow at him, looking back down at your book. “If he takes away my captainship in the team, I will– Dad will fucking cut my head off.” 

“That’s what you get for following his dreams from day one.” You mumble in a low tone, but he caught onto it, frowning at you.

“I have my own dreams. I don’t follow his.” You nodded at that while still not looking at him. You really could care two shits about all of this. 

“Maybe Nancy can help you with this kinda stuff. I'm busy.” You heard shuffling at the door and then a sigh. You heard steps and you raised your head to hear him slam his door shut, and you knew he was probably getting ready to go to a party or something because of the music he started playing on his radio. Not once you were invited to one of those, not even by your own brother. He had hosted parties before, and you were commanded to stay in your room all night. The only time you came out of your room was to the bathroom to pee, and even then you had to wait because people were always making out inside. 

You got up from bed, closed the biology book to then set it on your desk, looking over to your library of VHS’s tilting your head to check what to watch tonight. You picked Terms of Endearment and Sixteen Candles. Your collection was full of romance and dramatic movies because it’s just your favorite genre to watch. Same with your books, your favorite being Sense & Sensibility. 

Steve left after a few minutes, and you made your way down to start your Friday movie night, and tomorrow will be the same, next weekend too. You should get more movies, you are on a roll of rewatching stuff by now. But it was at this moment, when you put the cassette into your player, and you finally sat down and started watching Sixteen Candles that it all simply fell apart.

Your rough facade crumbles down as you see the romance of the characters on screen, the friendship that is displayed in these movies, late calls with friends, kicking your feet because the guy you liked kissed you, or even called you to spend time with you. You stare absentmindedly at the screen as you see the kissing scene finally happening and your fingertips brush over your lips, just softly, tracing the shape of them.

After a few hours Steve finally returns home, completely sober and cursing under his breath. He sees the light of the living room turned on and some blue light shining on. He walked inside to find you asleep on the couch with the TV still on. He sighed, walking over to turn it off but then his eyes looked at your form, making his face completely fall down.

He bent over your figure to see the dried tears on your cheeks, falling down onto the couch. He looked over to the coffee table to look at what you were watching, getting hold of the case. You watch the same movie every Friday night… And every Saturday night. He rubbed his mouth with a frown to his face as he looked back at your frame. And he always repeats the same action every Friday night and every Saturday night.

He stands up to grab the blanket that’s over the couch to put it over your body, and with tears in his eyes he bends over to press a soft kiss at the top of your head with a quiet whisper that he always repeats and that you never hear, not that you would believe him anyway.

“I’m sorry.”

Monday came way faster than you expected, and the morning was even quicker. Your parents were still away on their business trip, but Steve and you knew they were just out on vacation by themselves. Why have children when you just push them aside? 

You take out the lunch bag with your sandwiches in it, and you walk out of the school doors and into the football field which was deserted because it was lunch time, so it always gave you the best opportunity to head behind the bleachers to have some peaceful time for yourself, and that was until you almost dropped your bag as you screamed and flinched when you saw someone already there who snapped his head back at you.

Billy Hargrove.

Your breathing was heavy and your eyes were still trying to focus from the scare but as soon as they did you realized that Billy’s eyes were filled with tears, one or two might have escaped because you could see the glistening trail that they left behind on his cheeks. You were trying to talk to him, but then his eyebrows furrowed together, a tight angry look on his face.

“The fuck you looking at Harrington?” You flinched back at that, annoyance switching inside of you instead of fear. This guy was crying and has the audacity to sound threatening?

“Oh, right, sorry, it’s just seeing Billy Hargrove actually having feelings is a sight.” His eyes snapped wide at your response, surprise crossing his features while he stared at you this time. “Who’s staring now?”

“Oh, right, sorry, it’s just that hearing you fucking talk for once is a sight.” You were taken aback by his response, mimicking yours. You sucked on your right cheek in annoyance as he wiped his cheeks away.

“Well, off you go.” He snaps his head at you, a frown on his features to then letting a smirk spread on his lips.

“I came here first. You go.” You scoff at that, shaking your head at him.

“No, I always come here at lunchtime, it’s my place.” 

“Well, that’s lonely as fuck.” You know that. You fucking know that, he doesn’t need to say it to your face, not the heartthrob of the school. Before your heart could turn in pain you nod at him.

“Fine, take it for today.” You turn to finally walk away. Maybe you can eat at the picnic table in the forest? But sometimes the stoner would go there to deal, and you weren’t judging Munson really, you gotta do what you gotta do to survive. 

“Wait.” You stopped on your tracks and slowly turned around to see Billy slumping down on the ground, his back resting against a column of the bleachers while he rested his forearms on his bent knees. “You can stay here if you don’t tell anyone you saw me like this.” 

Who would you even tell this to? He might be scared that you would tell Steve about it, but Billy seems to not know you don’t actually have a good relationship with your brother, and you have just one casual friend in this school. You look in between the bleachers and towards the woods and then you look back at Billy, giving a sigh and finally sitting down with your legs crossed. 

It was silent between you two, almost uncomfortable but not quite. You were eating your sandwich and you took out a bottle of water out of your bag too. You glanced once at him, and he was looking at the distance, just breathing slowly. You wanted to know what happened to him, because he didn’t seem like the guy that would cry easily. He looked at you, raising an eyebrow up at you.

“Why do you eat here?” He asks and you clear your throat, taking a sip of your water.

“Why were you crying?” 

“Touché.” You gave a nod in understanding. You weren’t going to talk to him if he wasn’t going to talk to you. You looked inside your bag to grab onto the other sandwich, and you handed it to him. He looked at it with a frown and then back at you.

“If you’re here it means you didn’t eat. Basketball players need food.” You calmly say to him and he looks down at the sandwich, taking it from your hands, and then taking a bite out of it, grimacing in disgust.

“What the fuck is in this?” He looks down into it and you smirk at him, finishing off your own.

“Mustard and pickle sandwich.”

He ate the sandwich anyway. It was nice to eat lunch with someone for once, even if that person was Billy Hargrove and it would be a one time thing in your life… Though, it wasn’t. Billy was back behind the bleachers almost everyday after that. He wasn’t at all that persona that he was with everyone else with you. The cocky insufferable bastard you knew was all a mask, and you could see it when he told you about how Tammy Thompson tried to hide a fart with her cough in class.

“You’re fucking kidding…” You were giggling, covering your mouth as you both sat in front of one another, and the closeness slowly shrinking as two weeks went by of eating lunch with him.

“I am not, she actually thought it was discreet, but I heard it. Not that I said anything about it, but it was a total boner killer.” You raised an eyebrow at that, swallowing your apple that you were having as dessert.

“What, girls can’t fart Hargrove?” He rolls his eyes at you and then raises his hand to flick your forehead, making you wince and rub the skin he left in a red state.

“I didn’t say that. When you trust someone enough to do it in their face, sure. Not in the middle of class, and much less when you are a chair in front of mine.” At that you let out a laugh, throwing your head back. He chuckled and took a swig of his cigarette, blowing the smoke to the side so it wouldn’t hit your face.

“God, I really don’t pay attention to shit like that.” You took another bite of your apple and Billy was still looking at you, clearing his throat, making you look up at him.

“What do you do on Friday nights? I mean, your brother is at every single party but you are nowhere to be found.” He asks you and you feel your cheeks flush slightly at that. You look down at your apple and swallow your bite.

“I often watch movies. Have my own movie nights, sometimes with popcorn, and if I am feeling fancy, S’mores.” You gave him a small smile as you took another sip of water but Billy was still looking at you with a frown to his eyebrows.

“By yourself?” And you suddenly felt embarrassment washing over you. How pathetic were you? He is a guy that has every student in this school eating at the palm of his hand, plans of going out somewhere almost everyday, a date every single night, and you just watched movies and read books for company.

“I– I have to go.” You suddenly blurt out, standing up abruptly to then wipe your jeans from the dirt of the floor. Billy was following suit, doing the same thing, and about to stop you, but you were already walking away. You didn’t need the reminder of how stupid all of your life sounded. You didn’t need it from him. You were always reminded of it by your father, saying that you should be more like his son. Your mother says that at her age she already dated someone and had tons of friends. Steve showing off his new relationship and friends to you, keeping you in the shadows from everyone.

You didn’t need more reminders.

So when you got home, and realized Steve was already out of sight, probably at Heather’s party, you took your time to shower, put on some comfy sweatpants, a white t-shirt and a gray hoodie, and you grabbed your movies and went downstairs. Maybe they will cheer you up from all the stuff that has happened with Billy today. It’s stupid, you both don’t talk to each other all day, yet at lunch you just talk non-stop.

Sweet popcorn was today’s choice and you were already salivating at the smell of it all. Once it was done you put it in a bowl and headed over to the living room, turning the TV on, and putting Pretty in Pink in your VHS. Steve must be getting drunk with his friends by now, dancing to Roxette or something like that. You popped a single popcorn in your mouth and you were about to press play but you were interrupted when glass knocking was heard from the sliding door to the garden.

You jumped up in fear, eyes widened as you quickly turned your head and saw Billy fucking Hargrove outside the doors. You blinked once, twice, three times. Wasn’t he at Heather’s party too? You stood up from your seat, blushing at your attire but he already saw you in it, no time to actually go change. You fixed your glasses at the bridge of your nose as you walked towards the doors to finally unlock them and open a side for him.

“What the fuck are you doing here Billy!” You almost screamed at him, but he raised his hands up in a surrender mode and chuckled at you.

“By that yelling I am assuming your parents are still gone. Let me in, I’m fucking freezing.” He walks past you and you scoff at the nerve of this man. You close the door and you see him looking around with his hands inside his black leather jacket. Your eyes trailed downwards for a second, taking in how tight his pants were, but you snapped out of it, walking around him so that you were facing him.

“What are you doing here?” You ask again and he simply shrugs, still looking all around your house. 

“Party was lame as shit, and you said there was a movie night here tonight. That seemed far more interesting than Tommy trying to do a keg stand and falling onto it, breaking his nose.” He walks to the couch, sitting down on it and he immediately grabs the bowl of popcorn from the coffee table. Your mouth hangs open again at this, going to the couch and sitting down next to him.

“You– I don’t need your pity.” You say to him, looking down at your hands as you played with the hem of the sleeves of your hoodie. He chuckles at that and shakes his head.

“Sweetheart, I don’t pity anyone. The party was really fucking boring.” He takes a popcorn in his mouth and he hums at the sweetness. You raise an eyebrow to look at him. You never thought Billy Hargrove would be on the sweet side of stuff. “So, what are we watching?”

A smirk formed on your lips. He was gonna fucking hate it, that’s what he gets for barging in your house.

Yet–

“I fucking hated Duckie.” You were wide eyed at him. He had paid complete attention to the movie, even giving small commentary that he really liked the fact that the girl stood up for herself. He turns to look at you, a frown coming to his eyebrows. “What?” 

“I just… I didn’t think you like this genre of movies.” You reply to him, a little bit nervous for some reason and he smiles at you and then looks back at the screen.

“I never watched one of these. They have a lot of plot, and they’re interesting.” Your eyes sparkled in excitement and you grabbed his shoulder, which made him look at you alarmingly.

“You’re in for a ride.”

Billy came back again the next day, taking the chance that Steve was out at Nancy’s for the night. He then sneaked into your room while Steve slept and you played Grease on your small TV and VHS that were on top of your dresser. He actually enjoyed it, but despised it because it was a musical. The next time, he actually came through the front door, and you both finally watched Sixteen Candles together. Now, Saturday Night, Steve was at Nancy’s for a family dinner and Billy was taking out two beers from the six pack he came with.

“I don’t drink…” You say to him and he raises an eyebrow up at you. 

“Daily or weekly, but you have tried alcohol. One beer is not going to kill you Sweetheart.” You nodded at that and you grabbed onto the can, sitting back down on the couch. You opened it as Billy walked towards you and plopped down with a huff, already taking a swig out of his can. You grimaced at yours and you took a tentative sip, lowering the can to look at him, completely disgusted by the taste and he simply threw his head back in laughter.

“Disgusting.” You say to him and he shrugs at you, sending a smile your way.

“It’s an acquired taste baby, you just keep drinking it, if you feel fuzzy you can leave it.” You felt your heart accelerate at him, feeling the butterflies exploding in your stomach. You didn’t know when your relationship with Billy took a turn for the better, but he actually sends a smile your way this time when walking down the halls, he sometimes greets you when you pass by him in the hallways, like he is not making it seem like he doesn’t know you.

So it was hard not to fall for him. It was undeniable at this point, and even if he was strong and mean, and an ultimate bully to everyone else, he comes here to your house, watches romantic comedies with you, eats popcorn with you, and you two talk about nonsense all evening. Nobody knows about this, and you’re happy to have this secret between the two of you. You can live in the fantasy a little bit longer.

“What did you bring?” You look at the cassette he got and you look at the front of it. You grimaced again and showed it to him. “The terminator?” 

“Classic sweetheart, it’s an action movie, you gotta expand your movie knowledge a bit.” You didn’t want to complain, it was the first time Billy suggested to watch something he likes, and in reality you were interested in knowing it, and hopefully like it the way he does.

News flash, you didn’t like it.

“Why are there so many guns?! It's unnecessary!” You complain, your beer gone and you do feel a little fuzzy but not too much. You just felt giddy. He laughed at your side and shook his head as he drank his second can.

“That’s what action movies are, baby, they are irrational, little to nothing of plot, and shooting everywhere.” He says and you sigh at that, shaking your head. The room filled with silence as Billy looked forward, his smile slowly disappearing. “You know why I come here often?”

You straightened at that, blinked with confusion as you turned to look at him. You frowned when you saw how serious he got, just out of nowhere, and your belly turned for him, not in a romantic way, but more of a worry kind of nervousness. 

“Because parties now bore you?” You ask him and he gives you one chuckle and then shakes his head, resting it on the backrest of the couch, looking at the ceiling.

“You help me distract myself.” He took a deep breath in as you kept looking at him and you knew it was something he was having a hard time talking about. “The day you saw me crying… I was actually afraid.” 

“What?”

“My father… Let’s just say he has– a rough hand. Any slip up I make, I just get a punch out of it… I’m just so angry all the time, so unlike my fucking self and who I actually am when I am at school. I just let out my anger towards people, because I cannot take it out on my own father.” You could see his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, and you knew he was trying to choke back tears as he talked. Your heart just knotted at seeing him like this, feeling helpless, not knowing what to actually tell him.

“Billy–”

“And you… I tried to be mean to you… And you actually had the guts that no one had at this school yet. Talk back to me.” His head turned to finally look at you again and your eyes burned at his confession. “I couldn’t be mean to you… With you I can— I can be calm, watch a movie, talk about how creepy that Creel house is and how we should sabotage it– I mean, the only thing I talk with the people from school? Chicks, sex, cars, alcohol.” 

You couldn’t help the small smile that appeared on your lips, turning your whole body to face him, your legs coming to rest on top of the couch too, bending them and resting your side on the backrest. 

“Well, I am glad I could help in some way… My house is always open for you Billy.” His eyes were just staring into yours now, the only thing being heard in the room were your breaths, until he finally talked.

“Can I kiss you?” 

What?

There is no possible way you heard that from him. This is a dream, it has to be a dream. There is no way Billy Hargrove, your now friend, your crush, the guy you like has asked to actually kiss you. This only happens in movies, in books, and it never happens in real life, at least, not to you. 

“W-Why would you want to kiss me?” And Billy’s features turned into saddened ones at your words. Don’t you realize how beautiful you are? He straightened up on the couch, his body turning to face you as well as both of your hearts jumped out of your chest.

“Why wouldn’t I want to kiss you?” was his short answer. Your belly turned in pure nervousness now as your body grew a cold sweat. You never kissed anyone, and Billy seemed to know how to do it, and you were just too inexperienced. A flush came over all of your body as you fixed the glasses on the bridge of your nose and you looked down to avoid his gaze.

“I– I never–” You gulped, not being able to finish the phrase from how stupid it sounded. A warm hand was pressed on your cheek, making you lift your head up to look at him again, and you didn’t realize how close he got to you, his blue eyes staring into yours.

“I ask you again… Can I kiss you?” And you finally give him a nod. You weren’t going to miss this chance, not for one second. He still wants to kiss you despite you not knowing what you were getting yourself into. He smiled at you and grabbed onto your glasses, pulling them off your face and setting them on the coffee table. “They were just going to get in the way.” 

You took a shaky breath in, his hand still on your cheek as he slowly leaned down towards you. You closed your eyes and his remained open to remember your features as he finally does what he has been wanting to do for the past weeks. At first it was a simple attraction of course, but he knew it was more than that, and he was scared as shit about it… But he never wanted someone as much as he’s been wanting you.

His lips connected with yours in a soft peck, brief, and you let a breath go out of your lips, only for another peck to land. Then another, then another that lingered there a bit more, and then the next one he just stayed there, and suddenly started moving his lips, guiding you as your heartbeat made you deaf in your ears. How do people do this and not faint at the spot?

The lip smacking was heard in the room as your hands finally were brave enough to travel, one scanning his bicep, the other one moving towards the back of his neck, feeling his skin under your fingertips. His free hand landed on your waist, not pressing too hard so that you know that he is being mindful of you. At this point, Billy would already be inside someone, satisfying his needs, but with you… He wasn’t going to do that, at least not now, not yet, and that is if you let him. 

He wants to take care of you.

He pulled away for a second, his lips touching yours still as your breathing mixed with one another’s in soft pants. You were feeling as if you were burning all over, not knowing what was happening with you. You never felt like this before, and maybe it has to do with the fact that not only was Billy good looking, but you also feel more than just friendship for him.

“You okay?” You nod frantically at him, wanting more, giving him a peck on the lips making him chuckle in a low tone. “Sorry baby, but I need more.” 

He suddenly pushed you back on the couch, crawling over you and you didn’t even think, you just wrapped your arms around his shoulders, and he kept his bottom half away from yours, even if it pained him on his thighs from the strength he was doing to keep himself up. His lips connected with yours again, rougher this time, more desperate, the kiss suddenly turning into a very heated one as he suddenly licks your bottom lip a few times.

The butterflies in your belly explode as you open your mouth and his tongue finally slides in. You gasp at the feeling, your hands finding his biceps through his blouse, and you felt his chain hitting your neck at every movement. One hand was still gripping on your waist, while the other remained at your nape, pulling you deeper into the kiss. 

You really can’t believe this is happening, not to you, not with Billy, it doesn’t make sense that he looked your way, it doesn’t make sense that he actually wants to kiss you, not when he has Heather on his tail all the time, or Carol even if she is dating Tommy. Or Janet. You always hear them talking about him in the bathroom, always planning their move on him, and this feels you with a sense of power, with a sense of accomplishment and pride in yourself. 

Your hands ran through his hair and he groaned into the kiss, and that ignited so many things inside of you that you never felt in your life, and you wanted to hear more of it. Billy was trying his best to keep himself in a hovering position with you, but he was finding it harder and harder to do so. He can’t go on, at least not today when it was your first kiss. He didn’t want to scare you, even if your urges were the same as his, because he could feel your need to pull him even closer.

The door suddenly clicked and both of your eyes snapped wide open, pulling away, looking at one another, panting heavily. Best scenario, it's your parents, and they would be thrilled that you actually, and finally, have someone over at your house… Now, worst case scenario–

“What the ACTUAL FUCK?!” You both sat up on the couch to look over at Steve, who was standing there in the living room, wide eyed, and his face reddened bit by bit. Shit.

“Steve–” You started talking but he raised his hand at you, to then point a finger at Billy.

“Get the fuck off my sister.” You wanted to roll your eyes at this, because why is he acting all protective now? You finally got some action in your fucking life and he wants to take it away from you.

“I don’t think she wants me to leave.” Billy dares to say, glaring at your brother who took a look at the coffee table, seeing the cans of beer. His mind started racing, and Billy followed his gaze, his mouth opening to talk but Steve was running up the stairs already. Your eyes widened and you pushed Billy off, standing up quickly and urging him to do the same.

“You have to leave!” You were trying to push Billy towards the front door but his feet were still planted against the floor with a frown to his face, and your head snapped to the stairs to see Steve running back down with his baseball bat in his hands. Billy’s eyes widen when Steve starts to approach him with a swinging motion.

“Taking fucking advantage of my sister is something I won’t take from you Hargrove, so get the fuck out of my house before I crush your skull in!” 

“Shit, Harrington– Fucking listen for a second–” Steve’s baseball bat hits the backrest of the couch, and you could see the dent of the wooden under it that he created. Billy ripped himself off you and gave you a look as if asking if you were okay.

“I’ll talk to him, you go.” You tell him and he gulps, looking back at Steve with a threatening look on his face which Steve only scoffed at.

“I’ll talk to you later.” Billy says with a small squeeze to your hand as he walks out of the house, passing by Steve. Your brother follows him to the front door and he doesn’t walk back inside until Billy drives away with his Camaro. After the roaring engine can be heard in the distance, Steve slams the door shut, throwing the bat at the floor and stomping back into the living room where you were standing there with a glare on your eyes as if you were about to kill him.

“When I saw his fucking car out in front of the house I thought it was a stupid coincidence, and I come in here to see you about to have sex with the sluttiest man in the goddamn school! What are you thinking!?” You frown in anger at that, stepping towards him.

“I am his friend! I wasn’t going to have sex with him, and he wasn’t taking fucking advantage of me! I drank ONE beer, ONE!” You yell back at him and he fake laughs as he runs his hand over his face.

“The first time you have a guy in this house, and it is Billy FUCKING Hargrove. The one guy that I am fighting with for Captain at our basketball team, the one guy that gives me the hardest fucking time of my life at the moment, and you want me to just accept that he wants to be with you because he WANTS TO?” Your chest hurt at those words, your own coming out in soft stutters at Steve’s blind rage.

“He even asked me if I wanted to, and I said yes–”

“God, you cannot be this fucking stupid! He hates me, makes my life a living hell, and you seriously think that he is a nice guy!? You really think there is no ulterior motive!?” He yelled at you and his words were stabbing you in every part of your body, your head already spinning from how harsh he was being with you.

“Why? Is it impossible that he actually wants to be with me?” You try to say loudly at him, even if your fingers start to feel numb. He scoffed at that, looking at you.

“Yes, and I don’t think you are dumb enough to not see that.” He was referring to so many other things, and it was regarding Billy’s persona, in Billy’s actions, in his rivalry with him… And when he saw your tear rolling down your face, his anger evaporated as if water was being thrown at him.

“Okay…” Was your defeated response. You turned around to retrieve your glasses from your coffee table and Steve winced, clenching his eyes tightly together as pain rushed through his body. 

“That wasn’t what I meant– Hey, listen to me, I really didn’t mean it to sound like that–” But you weren’t listening, putting the cassettes back into their cases and turning off the TV. You grabbed them and walked past him, going up into your room. Steve stood there, knowing he hurt you once again, not knowing what to do but run a hand through his hair, cursing under his breath as he started pacing back and forth.

He didn’t mean it to sound like no guy would want you, he didn’t mean it at all like that, yet the words coming out of his mouth betrayed him, completely. He doesn’t know how to make it up to you, because if he had given you the chance to go to the parties with him when you asked in your freshman year, many times, and told you yes instead of no, you would have more experiences, you might even have friends. If only he had let you come out of your room at his own parties when you asked him, almost begged him to let you participate, but he declined each time. Then in your sophomore year, you didn’t ask anymore, just accepted that he wasn’t going to tell you anymore about them, and you automatically locked the door whenever he hosted a party. 

This year, he tried to invite you, many times. You always declined. You didn’t even want to eat dinner with him, and he knows you want to leave the house as soon as possible thanks to him. Even with your parents. For the past two years he had been so blind because of his father’s approval and the one of all the students in Hawkins High that he didn’t notice how your parents didn’t ask you stuff at dinner. All questions were always directed to him. He noticed this year, and he tried to tell them you had nailed your exams, and the only thing you got from your father was ‘As she should.’

He was the cause of who you were now. Not at all the bubbly and animated girl that asked him to raise her up like an airplane in their backyard, not at all the small girl that put makeup on him pretending she was a stylist, not at all the middle school girl that got excited to see him whenever she got home from school to tell him about what she learned that day. 

He walked up the stairs and raised his hand to knock on your door, only to hear soft sobs on the other side, muffled. He wonders if you had also cried when he denied you all those times. He doesn’t know how to even make it up to you. He doesn’t know if he even can. 

So the next day, when you didn’t come out of your room, he let you have your alone time. Now on Monday he tried knocking on your door, only to receive the notice that you felt sick. He tried walking in but your door was completely locked. His eyebrows twitched and his mind had come up with a plan. A plan he will terribly hate. A plan that might end up badly for him. But it’s what he deserves for what he did to you. 

Billy looked everywhere for you, and even asked Barbara Holland where you could be. She told him that she hadn’t seen her at Science that day either, so his best guess was that you had skipped school. His jaw clenched when he asked other people about you and some of them didn’t even know what you looked like. He waited for the bell to ring, and he was going to tumble Steve down if he had to in order to see you. He didn’t care.

But when he walked out of the school doors to rush to his Camaro, he was surprised to see Steve Harrington sitting on his trunk with his arms crossed. Billy’s eyes hardened at the sight, walking towards him, tilting his head in question at the brown haired boy who was looking at Billy with a mix of emotions behind his eyes.

“Harrington. Get off my fucking car.” He says and Steve gulps as he looks to the side.

“I fucked up.” At that Billy’s eyebrows turned into a frown, but his fists started clenching as Steve kept talking, telling him everything, everything he did to you, and what he had said to you that night when Billy left. 

While this was happening, you were combing your hair after the shower you took while sitting on your bed. You had taken a shower because you were greasy from yesterday already, and you really didn't want to get up, but you didn’t have a choice. Ever since Steve said that, you didn’t have the guts to actually call Billy because at some far away place in your mind, it made sense. 

You were invisible, and suddenly you were noticed? It doesn’t sound real. 

So maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it really was to get into your pants to mess with your brother, and that was honestly the most reasonable explanation for it. You frowned when you heard the door open downstairs, your door was left open so you could hear some drawers being open, to then hear steps coming up the stairs. Your eyes widened when you saw Steve slamming himself against the door frame of your room.

His eye was completely inflamed from a punch received to the face, his nose was bleeding and he was holding some ice covered in a rug to soak the blood in it. From what you could see, his lip was busted as well and his breathing was coming out of his mouth, almost in a pant.

“Steve, what happened?” Even in your hatred for him, seeing him this way made your heart fill with worry, pushing all of the other feelings aside. You were about to rise from the bed until Steve raised his hand up at you.

“I deserved it.” He looked towards the hallway and your eyes widened when you saw Billy coming into view, a pack of frozen peas on his right hand, his eyes glaring at Steve as he passed by him and into your room. His eyes turned to yours and you couldn’t help but look up at him, completely stunned. Steve groans and closes the door for you two as he heads downstairs. 

“What… Did you…?” You stutter as you sit back on your bed, seeing Billy’s injured hand as he sat on your bed too, nodding as he looked at you.

“I sure as hell did. Fucker deserved it. He told me everything, from the very beginning, and also what he said to you on Saturday night right after I left.” You feel your face flush with embarrassment and you look down at your hands again. You are not understanding what is going on, nor why Steve would go and tell your life story to Billy. “Though I have to say… Your brother does care for you.” You scoff at that.

“Right. Like he cared for me the past two years.” You reply with venom in your voice and you feel Billy scoot closer to you.

“He knows. He knows what he did to you. Your freshman year was the punch on the eye, your sophomore year was on his lip… And what he said on Saturday was the one on the nose.” He lets out a chuckle and you feel mixed emotions to that. You were happy that he defended your honor, but Steve was still your brother and you didn’t want physical harm to come to him.

“Don’t punch him again… Please.” You slowly looked up at Billy and his blue eyes were already looking at you. Your heart rate picked up the longer he stared at you.

“Do you really believe what he said to you that night?” He asks you, a small worried tone behind his voice. You feel yourself gulp and you look away in embarrassment or nervousness, you no longer know.

“I– After years of feeling this way, it was a very possible scenario.” You say to him in a low voice, your fingers playing with each other. You see him put the bag of peas away, and his hands look for yours. You look down to see his right hand completely bruised up, some skin completely chipped off on his knuckles. You gasp at that and his hold gets stronger on you, making you look up at him. He was closer now, making your breathing get stuck in your throat. 

“How can I prove to you that I want you? How can I prove to you that I like you, that I like you very much that I drive myself insane with this fucking feeling, because god knows I am not good with relationships…” For the first time you see a blush come to his cheeks, and his gaze looks down at your connected hands, like how you do when you get nervous. “But I wanna try that with you.” 

Your heart leapt out of your mouth almost, not truly believing what was happening, but the bruised knuckles made it more real, the blush on his cheeks made you realize it was no dream at all. This man in front of you wants you, despite it all, and you both have so many broken pieces to pick up inside one another, but you figure that you can help each other. You can mend his heart back, as he can mend yours.

“I think… The first step would be a date…” You say to him almost in a whisper and he chuckles as he looks up at you. He squints slightly at that as if in thought as your smile grows on your face while looking at him.

“I have an idea for it. I think they are showcasing the new Rambo movie.” He says to you with a smirk to his face and your mouth fell open at that, shaking your head.

“I am not watching an action movie on our first date!” He chuckles at that, his face coming closer to yours slowly, and you feel magnetized to him as you both leaned into one another. 

“Oh, I bet you prefer the one where the bad boy goes for the intelligent and perfect girl, that genre, right?” You squint at him, pretending to be offended by his words.

“Don’t act like you don’t like those movies Hargrove.” At that he chuckles, his left hand snaking to the back of your neck to pull you closer to him, a soft breath hitting your lips as he talks.

“I might have a thing for romance.” His lips touched yours again, and you smiled through the kiss, your own hands resting on the back of his head to pull him deeper into the kiss, to taste him even better. Your lips moved along with his, taking in eachother’s breaths, bodies coming closer at each second.

“Don’t fuck my sister, I draw the line there. Not today, not with me here.” You both heard Steve’s voice behind the door, making Billy groan in annoyance and pull away from you to glare at the door as the steps could be heard and another door closes down the hallway.

“I am punching him again.” Billy says and you were glaring at the door too.

“My turn.”

A/N: Well shit, I hope you enjoyed. IT TURNED OUT TO BE A ONE SHOT.

[navnae]

Okay but now I have another cute little Hc about Steve always pulling out his wallet and running to the nearest store whenever anyone in the party mentions even the littlest thing that interests them but with Eddie it’s gotten a little bit overboard. Eddie will mention how he saw something in the mall in passing and says how he thought it looked cool, not really hinting at any form of wanting it. In Steve’s ear all he hears “Eddie likes, Eddie gets.” That explains why Eddie has so many gifts from Steve even though he never asked for any of them and honestly it’s just Steve’s way of making Eddie used to him spoiling him.

[sentient-trash]

Day 3: Mutual Pining

@steddie-week

I was a bit lazy with this one but here y’all go 🫡

[faofinn]

7. “You’re a Jerk When You’re Sick”

It was almost dawn when Harrison stumbled in, a mug of ale still in his grasp. Steve had been up waiting for him, but the older man had drifted off at some point. He was woken by Harrison’s clattering, and thought he ended up sprawled across the floor, his mug stayed full.

Steve startled awake, drawing his sword from under his jacket. The tip of the sword pulled cup from Harrison’s reach, much to his annoyance.

"Hey!" He snapped. "That's mine. I paid for it."

"I don't care." Steve replied, his tone harsh. "Get yourself up. I'm not dealing with you tonight. You can sleep in the back room, on that cot, you’re not staying in your bed."

"It's my room!"

"They're my chambers, Harrison. It’s close to dawn, you're only just turning up, and you're in such a state it's ridiculous. Get yourself up."

Harrison raised his head, scowling at him. "Give me my cup."

“No. Get yourself up and go to bed.”

For someone lying in the dirt and definitely in the wrong, Harrison had too much arrogance and defiance. "Not until you give me my ale."

“Absolutely not.”

He sat, swaying. "Then I'll stay here until you do."

Steve shrugged. “Alright then, I’ll see you later.”

"What?" Harrison frowned. That wasn’t how he'd expected it to go. "No, you have to give it back."

“I don’t have to give it back.” He countered.

"I bought it."

“And now you’re in my chambers.” Steve told him, picking up the drink.

Harrison lurched for it, a shout in protest. He'd been cut off several times over the evening, and it had been difficult enough to get the final mug. Of course, he could barely see straight, and his coordination was nonexistent.

Steve set the mug on the table, looking over at Harrison on the floor. “That’s enough of that. Get up.”

"Why are you being so mean?" His anger had fizzled into tears, the alcohol messing with his emotions.

“Look at you, you’re a state.” Steve said, his own anger difficult to control. “Right, come on. Let’s get you in the cot, and you can sleep.”

"Because you won't let me have a drink!"

“I think you’ve had enough now.” Steve said, offering him his hands.

Harrison pushed them away. "Drink first."

“No. I’m trying to help you.”

"This isn't helping!" He angrily rubbed the tears away.

“I know, I know. You’re just drunk.” Steve said, reaching out for him. “Come on.”

"I don't want to."

“But you need to.”

"No I don't. I need a drink."

“You’ve had more than enough.”

"How would you know?"

“You’re literally on the floor.”

"Yeah, well." He grumbled. "Give me a drink and I'll go to bed."

Rolling his eyes, Steve poured the ale out and filled the mug with the pitcher of fresh water he kept at hand. “Here’s a drink for you.”

Harrison’s jaw actually dropped. "Are you for real?"

“As real as I’m standing here in front of you.”

He staggered to his feet. "That's fucking…fucked."

Steve reached out to keep him upright. “Whatever you say.”

His lip curled. "Don't touch me."

“I’m trying to help.”

"Yeah, right. You've thrown my ale away, made me sit on the floor, and you had your sword at me." He gestured wildly as he spoke, trying to keep himself upright.

“You put yourself on the floor, and my sword never touched you.”

"I never said it did."

“Stop being overly dramatic and let me help you, unless you want to fall again.”

"I'm not the one being dramatic."

“Whatever you say. Let me help you to bed?”

"Haven't you done enough?"

Steve shrugged. “If you want to sleep on the cold floor then be my guest. But I thought you might be more comfortable in a bed.”

"I'm going back to the tavern."

“No you’re not.”

"You can't stop me."

“It’s my coin you’re spending, I absolutely can.” Steve said, wrapping an arm around him. “You’ll feel better for some rest.”

He jerked away, quickly overbalancing and grabbing towards Steve, his self preservation breaking through the alcoholic haze. "Help!"

“I’ve got you.” Steve reassured. “Let me help?”

"I don't need your help." He muttered to the floor, hanging his head.

“It’ll go quicker if I help.”

He rubbed his face, brushing a hand through his hair. "Alright."

“Thank you.” Steve said. He did most of the work, steering Harrison to the cot set up in the room. It would be somewhere for him to rest, where Steve could keep an eye on him. This wasn’t the first time he’d come home this drunk.

The room only seemed to spin more as Harrison lay down, and he groaned. "Steve."

“What is it?”

"'m gonna be sick."

There was a bucket nearby, and Steve passed it to Harrison. “Here. Try and get it in the bucket and not on the floor.”

His head buried in the bucket, his retort was lost to a groan, his stomach twisting and spasming. He retched as his whole body shook, his arm barely holding himself up.

Steve grimaced, glad he’d given him the bucket. At least that would hopefully make him feel better, once he’d finished.

Harrison fell back against the bed, sweat collecting on his brow. He rested the bucket on the floor, his hand still shaking.

Steve set aside his frustrations and moved to sit with him, offering him the water again. “Here, have some water.”

"Thank you." His voice was barely a whisper, a tiny smile pulling at the edge of his mouth.

“Have we got rid of that foul temper now?”

His cheeks were already flushed, but a blush tinged his ears. "I'm sorry."

“You really are horrid when you don’t feel well, you know that?”

[hawkinsbnbg]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Happy?”

“Very,” Eddie nodded solemnly.

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

Steve leaned forward to meet Eddie halfway.

And knew this was what love tasted like.

[solarmorrigan]

Saw someone mention how Steve tends to get defensive when he's anxious and it stuck with me, so here's my take on the "Steve breaks a dish and has a panic attack about it" trope

cw: descriptions of nonstandard panic attack, implied/referenced child abuse

-

The distinct sound of shattering porcelain is followed by a vehemently hissed, “shit,” and then silence.

“Steve?” Eddie calls from the couch into the kitchen. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Steve calls back, but his voice sounds tight in the way it does when something definitely isn’t okay.

Eddie pushes himself up and moves to the doorway, looking in to see what the trouble is. The kitchen of the house he and Wayne had been “gifted” by the government isn’t exactly huge, and he has a straight line of sight to where Steve is standing by the sink, eyes squeezed shut as he pinches the bridge of his nose, and to the red and white shards of porcelain on the floor by his feet.

“Hey,” Eddie says, but Steve doesn’t look up; if anything, his posture only gets tenser. “You’re not cut or anything, are you?”

“No,” Steve says, and his tone is still a little off, but he doesn’t sound like he’s lying.

“What was that, anyway?” Eddie asks.

Finally, Steve takes a deep breath in and opens his eyes, looking down at the mess on the laminate. “Mug.”

As soon as he says it, Eddie recognizes the colors for what the design must have been. “Shit, the Campbell’s one?”

Steve doesn’t say a word, just gives one sharp nod.

Eddie sucks a hiss of breath in through his teeth. “Shit,” he says again. “That was Wayne’s favorite.”

“I know,” Steve says tersely. “I’m sorry.”

His tone is definitely weird. “I mean, I’m sure it was an accident, Steve–” Eddie starts.

“I’m sorry,” Steve says again, almost snapping this time. “I’ll clean it up.”

“O-kay,” Eddie says slowly, watching as Steve jerks into motion and moves over to the corner where they stash the broom and dust pan.

“I’ll apologize to Wayne when he gets home,” Steve says as he starts sweeping up, even though Eddie hasn’t said a word.

“He gets home at, like, six in the morning.”

“I’ll make sure I’m up,” Steve says shortly.

“Steve, you can just tell him what happened later, he’s not going to stand around demanding an explanation. I mean, seriously, you think Wayne is gonna be pissed if you’re not there, immediately scraping at his feet when he comes through the door?” Eddie scoffs, but Steve remains silent. Eddie watches as he finishes sweeping in short, sharp motions, brows pulling together as Steve apparently fails to pick up on the joke. “…he won’t be, y’know.”

Steve shrugs. His expression has gone eerily blank, and he takes the dustpan over to the garbage can to dump it.

“Hey, don’t–” Eddie reaches out, and Steve jerks to a stop just in time. “You don’t have to toss it, man, we might be able to glue it back together.”

Steve sends Eddie a sharp look. “I’m not gonna be able to hide that it was broken, Eddie,” he says slowly, as though this should be painfully obvious.

“I’m not suggesting we hide it, I’m just saying we might still be able to use it,” Eddie answers in the same slow manner. “It’s not junk until you’re sure you can’t fix it.”

“Right,” Steve snaps, dropping the dustpan on the counter so sharply that the shards of porcelain clink against each other. “Can’t even clean up right.”

Eddie frowns, stirrings of defensiveness rising up in his gut at Steve’s continued sour mood. “I didn’t say that. I just said we might be able to fix it.”

“Fine. We’ll try to fix it,” Steve bites out, turning away from Eddie so he can put the broom back in the corner.

Eddie shakes his head, unwilling to engage with whatever snit Steve’s got himself worked into. “What happened, anyway?” he asks instead.

Apparently, this is the wrong tactic.

“What happened is, I’m too stupid to even do the dishes right,” Steve declares as he whirls back around. “Is that what you want to hear?”

“What?” Eddie is baffled, suddenly caught in the middle of an argument he hadn’t even realized was happening. “No! Why would I want to hear that?”

Steve throws his arms up, a demonstration of giving in. “Well I already said I’m sorry, and I am, and I don’t know what else you want from me!”

The heat of Eddie’s own temper is beginning to flare, but he does his best to shake it away because he still doesn’t know what the hell is going on and he doesn’t think getting angry will help. “I don’t want anything else from you! Why are you acting like I’m yelling at you? I’m not, I’m not even upset about the stupid mug, so what the hell is your deal?”

He takes a couple of steps into the kitchen, reaching out for Steve, hoping just to touch some part of him. Physical contact has always been grounding, has always been a comfort for them both; it almost seems like they can communicate better if they can just be in contact somehow. Instead of reaching back, though, Steve tenses up; it’s not exactly a flinch, but it’s as if he’s bracing himself, as if he’s waiting for Eddie to–

Eddie takes in the painfully blank expression on Steve’s pale face, the way his chest is rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths that he can’t quite seem to control, the way he’s angled himself just slightly away from Eddie, and suddenly Eddie feels cold.

It’s as if he’s waiting for Eddie to hit him.

Eddie wonders how the hell he hadn’t realized he was walking through a minefield until he was already standing in the middle of it.

(It still takes him by surprise, sometimes, that Steve’s anxiety, his panic, tends to look more like anger. That he tends to lash out like a wounded animal when he feels backed into a corner, hurt too many times in moments of vulnerability to do otherwise.)

(It takes him by surprise, but he’s learning.)

“Steve,” Eddie says softly, dropping his hand slowly back to his side, “I’m not angry.”

Steve stares at him, almost confused, like Eddie’s not doing it right, like this isn’t what’s supposed to come next. Eddie sort of wants to break something (he thinks, briefly, that he’d like to start with the fingers on Mr. Harrington’s right hand, and then move on to his left).

“It’s just a mug, Steve, it’s okay. No one’s upset about it,” Eddie says. “I’m preemptively speaking for Wayne, because I know he’s not gonna be mad at you. Seriously, getting upset over a broken cup? Does that sound like something Wayne would do?”

Slowly, once he seems to realize that Eddie is waiting for an answer, Steve shakes his head.

“Does that sound like something I would do?” Eddie asks.

Steve shakes his head again, though he’s still watching Eddie with something approaching trepidation.

“I promise it’s fine. I’m not angry,” Eddie repeats, and chances a couple of steps closer to Steve.

Steve doesn’t react this time, no tensing, no flinching, no verbally lashing out, and so Eddie lifts a hand again, reaching slowly for Steve’s. Steve lets him.

When he gets his fingers wrapped around Steve’s own, Eddie can feel how cold they’ve gone, can feel the fine tremble of adrenaline working through them, and can’t quite choke down the noise of sympathy in his throat. He tugs on Steve’s hand.

“C’mere,” Eddie says, invites him by lifting his other arm, but leaves it up to Steve.

It only takes a moment for Steve to step in close, and when Eddie lets go of his hand to wrap his arms around Steve’s shoulders, Steve reciprocates by cinching his own arms tight around Eddie’s waist. He takes one sharp breath, and then another, and Eddie can hear the way they shake going in and out.

“There you go,” Eddie says quietly, rubbing Steve’s back.

“I just dropped it,” Steve says, his voice a little hoarse. “It was an accident.”

“I know it was,” Eddie assures him. “It’s okay.”

“It was an accident,” Steve says again, and Eddie wonders how often someone has believed him – how often he’d ever even been given a chance to explain.

“It was an accident,” Eddie agrees. “You’re okay, Steve.”

Steve lets out a little noise, like maybe he’s trying to laugh, but then he pulls in another shuddery breath and rests his chin on Eddie’s shoulder. “Okay.”

In a little bit, Eddie might lead Steve to sit down on the couch, or maybe just take them both up to bed, because fuck doing the dishes after this anyway; he’ll make sure to leave a note for Wayne about the mug (ask him not to bring it up until Steve does, to not even jokingly make a thing about it), but for now, he concentrates on holding Steve close.

He’ll stand with him as long as it takes for the shaking to stop, for his breathing to even out, for him to relax even just a little against Eddie, and he'll promise, as many times as Steve needs to hear it, that it’s okay. Things will be okay.

[Prompt: Embracing your partner]