#hopeless romantic!steve harrington

[ghostlyfleur]

steve who pulls the hem of your skirt down when it rises up for you when your hands are busy. steve who pulls the strap of your top up your shoulder when it falls. steve who delicately pushes your glasses up your nose when they slide down. steve who insists on tying your shoelaces for you. steve who gently tucks your hair behind your ears while you talk. steve who wipes chocolate with his thumb from the corner of your mouth. steve who bops your nose when he teases you. steve who adjusts the beanie you wear when you’re cold to make sure you’re covered properly. steve who drags the clasp and pendant of your necklaces to the right places. steve who plays with the rings on your fingers while he talks. steve who puts small flowers he picks on the streets behind your ears to see you blush. steve who brings you closer to him by the loops in your jeans.

steve harrington who is completely obsessed with you and devoted to you, and isn’t afraid of showing it… even if you two are not together yet.

#fairy writes #steve harrington (harmo’s version) #boyfriend!steve harrington #lovesick!steve harrington #hopeless romantic!steve harrington #steve harrington #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x virgin!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #shy!reader #steve x you #steve x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington blurb #friends to lovers #mutual pining

[starrystevie]

it doesn't happen as a revelation. there's no jolting pain in his chest that sends steve reeling, no internal crisis that has him shaking on the bathroom floor, no shocking sense of guilt or desperation or fire licking in his veins. nothing that makes the world stop spinning and making him trip over his feet.

it's a normal moment when he realizes he's in love with eddie.

they're sitting in steve's car, ac blasting and music on low for once, waiting for a handful of the kids to get done with their final exams. they don't pick them up as much anymore and steve pointedly ignores how much he misses the times of carting them all around before mike started a ripple effect and got his license. but they're taking the kids to the lake after school to try and enjoy the last bits of non-suffocating sunshine before summer really hits, just like old times.

it isn't a revelation in the sense that it's some earth shattering event, but more like a moment of clarity. eddie's hair blows back for a second and he's blabbering about something from the dnd game he played the night before with his shop buddies with a wide grin and animated hands and the sun glints off the puckered pink scar on the side of his face in the most perfect way and he's beautiful and-

oh.

oh.

steve's vision seems clearer than it has in a while. his lungs feel a bit more shaky but not in a bad way, his heart stumbles against his ribcage like it's tripped over itself and the butterflies in his chest are the only things catching it. he laughs to himself because of course this has to happen when he wasn't expecting it, when he doesn't have a plan, but then eddie's looking at him and he knows he doesn't need one. not yet, anyway.

"you good, man?" eddie asks, eyebrows crinkled together and smirk on his face. he's painted golden in the afternoon sun, shining as bright as the north star. steve's always liked gold.

it's taken steve years to get here. the two of them have grown up together in the way that teenagers do while they figure out the roads laid out before them. they've learned each other's ins and outs through long nights and early mornings and everything in between. he knows his breathing, the way his footsteps sound, the smell of his aftershave, the feeling of his hands on his shoulders. it all comes together in this perfect package wrapped up in a perfect bow and for once, steve lets himself hope like he's a kid on christmas morning.

"yeah," he shakes his head to clear out the eddie-shaped stars in his vision, offers up a smirk of his own. it's taken years to get here so he still has time to do this right. "perfect."

#don't mind me just feeling like a ~hopeless romantic~ this fine tuesday morning #had to write it as an italicized oh moment don't mind that either #steddie #steddie hc #my writing #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie drabble #steddie ficlet

[inklessletter]

I dreamed of your voice last night, and it sounded as lonely as I am. Are you trapped in there? Are you... are you real?

Thank you for trusting the process again <3

#stranger things #steddie #steddie art #fanart #art #digital art #steve harrington #eddie munson #no this is not part of any fic #this is me being a hopeless romantic again #and full in love with tragic stories #unless #you consider this a prompt #and write something absolutely cool about it #and if you do please tag me #thank you so much #i really hope you like it

[sheisjoeschateau]

"Oh, so we DO love Steve..." | PART VI

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ SERIES MASTERLIST ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Steve Harrington x Bauman!fem!reader enemies to lovers, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, upside down mayhem, S2-S4, post S4 universe hot-take, end-of-the-world / dystopian setting, ugly fights turned smut (...but with hella plot). 18+

CHAPTER WARNINGS: tw - mention of death, injuries, emotional smut (minors: DNI), language, end-of-the-world terror talk, newfound shared codependency. 18+

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

You felt like you could sleep for five years. 

That electric fence had robbed you of your energy, draining your battery completely.  No doubt you were useless at this point.  But you were just so exhausted, you couldn’t even bring yourself to fight against what you were physically experiencing.

Everything hurts.  Your chest.  Your shoulders and back.  Your legs, your lungs.  Even your neck. 

Guess being brought back from the dead can take it outta you.

A lot of what went down after you…well…blacked out… It’s honestly a blur. 

You remember Steve eventually lifting you up, carrying you bridal style.  And you remember seeing his eyes. Dark brown orbs, scanning you like a hawk and uncharacteristically glassy.  You also remember Hopper over the walkie, telling your group to abort the plan and head back to base for a re-group.  His crew was on their way back, and Group 1 would be back with the supplies later that night.

Jonathan offered multiple times to help carry you, along with Eddie. But Steve just shook his head every time, insisting he was fine, clinging to you tightly while tucking your head against his chest. Dustin worriedly asked them if you would be alright a handful of times, and you kept wanting to tell this sweet kid all sorts of sweet comforting things. But damn, you were wiped. So you just let the guys assure him that you are fine.

The way Steve held you felt so…safe.  Almost familiar, despite the nurturing touch from him being so foreign.  Just last week, you never would have thought him capable of being so gentle.  Then again, it seemed that the ones who show the least amount of affection tend to be the most capable. He definitely struck you as someone who is affectionate in a relationship, given how he used to be with Nancy.  You gathered that much.  Touchy, flirty, all that jazz. 

But this?  This was different.

He was different.

You were right.  You fucking knew it.

The past few days had changed so much between you and Steve. And if you could think straight at the moment, or even think at all, it would overwhelm you. You knew that it would eventually.

…you also knew that your uncle was never gonna let you live this down.  The thought made you internally laugh, as you were carried through the trees until you all reached your destination.  Although, Murray probably would cut you some slack. Given the whole… temporarily dying thing.  At least that would work to your benefit, you think to yourself morbidly.

You had drifted off in Steve’s arms during the journey back.  As you all approached the house, you stirred back awake.  You could hear everyone shuffling out the front door, getting closer to you guys.

Murray was the first to race his way over to you, hovering above you in Steve’s arms.  His eyes were uncharacteristically glassy, his scruffy face etched with worry and relief.  He struggled with what else to do or say.  Sentimentality did not come naturally to the Bauman bloodline…

But after he swallowed, thickly, he told you — “Don’t do that to me again kiddo, alright?  The rest of our family is crazy, you’re gonna have to…stick around.  Got it?”

You smiled faintly.  “Love you too, Murray.” 

Your uncle gave you a curt nod, but you could see him tearing up.  He sniffed aggressively, biting back emotion and looking up at Steve.  Lucas and Erica stepped closer, coming into view for you.  Poor babies looked so worried.

Murray managed to convince Steve to hand you over to him, but that didn’t stop him from staying glued to your uncle’s hip.  Everyone else shuffled inside, too.  Steve asked Eddie to stay and watch the kids, giving his shoulder a grateful squeeze.  Jonathan said he’d wait up for the rest of the gang to make it back while Steve moved to give Dustin a bone-crushing hug.

You were carried off to the master bedroom downstairs, where Joyce and Hopper have been sleeping.  Suddenly you hissed in pain as Murray sat you down on the bed. 

Steve knelt in front of you, immediately asked you nervously, voice soft, “What is it, what hurts, talk to me...”

You tried to lift your arm but couldn’t.  The adrenaline was wearing off, now letting your body really feel the damage done.  “M’shoulder.”

Your uncle and Steve looked you over, realizing. 

“Might be broken,” your uncle murmured, then sighing, “shit.”

“We have to tell Owens,” Steve said, his hand on your thigh. 

Murray nodded, “I’ll tell Jim we need to get him over here.”

Your uncle watched Steve gingerly take your hands into his, assessing the deep tears in your palms from where the fence had scorched through them.  Even Murray had to admit — the Harrington kid definitely exudes sex appeal, especially when he looks dismayed.  It’s very Patrick Swayze.  But more than that, your uncle could tell this wasn’t just some puppy love thing.  It seemed like the real deal.

...ahh fuck, he thought.

When Jim answered his call, Murray walked away to talk and let him know they’d need to get you medical attention.  Steve was examining every single inch of you, touching you carefully and protectively.  He stood, moving to carefully lift your good arm over his shoulders.

“Bathroom.  Need to wrap up those hands.”

You leaned into him, and when you finally got into the restroom inside of the master, Steve put the toilet seat down and helped you sit before moving to get the first aid kit out from underneath the sink.  Steve was back in seconds, kneeling in front of you and pulling out the items he needed for patching you up.  You watched his perfect hair flop in front of his eyes while his head was down, admiring him silently.

“Here,” he spoke gently, moving to delicately hold one of your hands.  He looked up at you, his eyes rimmed red from earlier.  “S’gonna sting.  But we’ll get them done quickly, yeah?  Tell me if I need to stop?” 

Off your dazed nod, he moved to peck the swiftest of kisses to your cheek before getting to work.

Your eyes were closed while he did, scrunched shut in pain with a small hiss as the antiseptic made contact with your ripped palms.  Steve murmured, so quietly, “Sorry, baby, I know,” along with other whispered apologies that included the word baby or angel.  It made something strange flutter inside your stomach, despite all the pain.

You made yourself find joy in the unlikeliness of it all, grateful for the fact that you all were still alive and in one piece.  Otherwise, the dreaded truth that you were all a day behind schedule — putting you all in even bigger trouble — would consume your mind. You felt guilty. Everyone had to slow down because you’d been the one to get hurt. You’re the one who went and died on everyone, having to be resuscitated. 

Jesus, you thought. As if I wasn’t already a nag.

The feeling of Steve’s fingers tenderly closing around both of your hands made you realize that Steve's self-appointed nurse work was finished. Yours hands were freshly wrapped up and covering the raw, bloody cuts that the electric fence had seared into your palms.

Steve carefully brought all of your fingers, curled around his, to his lips.  He planted a long, soft kiss over all of your knuckles. You opened your eyes and saw his gaze fixed on the gauze wrapped in a makeshift pattern, encasing your small damaged hands.  He held them delicately, more than you ever thought him capable. He was always so brash, cocky and arrogant with you. But right now, that person didn’t seem to exist. This Steve was gentle. Soft.  His pretty brown eyes seemed lost, deep in thought.

You looked at him fondly.  God, you loved this boy.  You realized that now, that you loved him. Truly loved him. You couldn’t help but reach one of your gauzed hands up to his cheek, and he turned his head to lightly kiss your palm and hold it there, his large hand curling around your wrist.

“Steve,” you breathed.

He still stared at nothing, but finally his eyes glanced up at you.  They were sad, bloodshot and strained.  You hated it.  This was your fault.  

“You alright?” you breathed.

He pinched his brows together, nodding with feigned assurance, pressing his lips into a tight-lipped smile.  But he didn’t speak.  And you knew that was because he wasn’t alright.  Not at all. 

But he clearly was not ready to say that.  He sniffed, standing up.  “Let’s get you some water, yeah?” he asked tightly. 

You nodded, letting him help you stand while minding your bad shoulder.

The kids were already outside of the bedroom door, anxious to see you.  Lucas, Erica, Mike, Will and El.  They all went to ask questions, hesitant but unable to help themselves.  They kept their voices lower, knowing they needed to not bombard you fully.  You gave the kids all a soft smile, wobbly on your legs as you reached to pull them in for a little group hug. 

“Careful of her arm, guys, it might be broken,” Steve told them, motherly.  They obeyed.  “Let’s get her some water,” Steve added.

Erica immediately went off to fulfill the request.

Steve and El guided you over to the living room with Murray, who walked over to you to put an arm around you and walk you over to sit. 

Hopper now stood in the living room.  Jonathan was standing with Argyle.  Dustin was there still, with Eddie.  Poor kid looked so shaken up.  You gave him an apologetic look, extending an arm to him -- and he raced over to you after you’d sat down.

You ruffled his hair, letting him wrap his arms around your waist for a hug.  “I’m so sorry,” he mumbled against your jacket. 

Your heart broke.  “Dude, don’t be.  Better me than you.  Still, I’m…m'sorry you had to see that.” 

Hopper was looking over at you with a relieved expression, walking in your direction.  He glanced over at Steve as he did, seeing him standing there with his arms crossed and teeth sunk into his bottom lip with a pensive expression.  Hopper gave his shoulder an assuring squeeze, and a hard pat on the shoulder. 

Then, looking back at you and kneeling, “How you doin’, champ?”

You sighed.  “Feel like my battery’s on its last percent.”

Hopper nodded, breathing a light laugh.  He ruffled your hair.  “A little static-y up here.  You been sticking your finger into some sockets?”  You snorted, feeling tired all over again.  

Erica got back with water for you, handing it over.  You sipped, feeling the couch sink down beside you.  It was Steve, sitting next to you.  He had to physically restrain himself from pulling you into his arms, knowing that the kids — well, aside from Dustin — didn’t know anything yet, or Hopper.  Maybe not even Murray.  Although, Steve was beginning to highly doubt that now.

Everyone began talking about what happened.  What went wrong, why didn’t it work?  Lucas explained that the calculations weren’t wrong, regarding the hacking into the breaker switch system.  Murray flusteredly agreed, saying it didn’t add up. 

But then Eleven spoke up, saying, “Another hacker.” 

You all looked at her, confused.  She explained. 

“With their mind.  Someone used their mind.” 

It turns out, she had used her powers to see that it was being tampered with by some invisible figure.  Meaning that they had sensed your whereabouts.  Who “they” were, exactly?  That had yet to be figured out.  Point was, you all were doomed from the start. 

The kids started saying something about El being able to control it with her mind — to “counter the counter.” 

Hopper wasn’t keen on the idea, nor was Murray.  Steve definitely had his doubts.  Eddie and Jonathan did, too.  But Eleven said it could work, as long as she went there in her mind. 

But that raised an even bigger question: were you all at even bigger risk now that your visit had clearly been known by someone?  Something? 

Eleven said it was just an entity.  Not human.  But that made everyone gulp… Was it Vecna?  Was he not dead after all?

“Regardless,” Hopper was saying.  “We’ll need to lay low.  The evacuation mandate starts next week.  If we’re gonna stay here and figure this thing out, we’ll need an entirely new plan.”

“Orrrr,” Mike interjected.  “We do this before the mandate happens.”

It was definitely a light argument amongst the group now.  More of a debate than anything.  The kids were insisting that it could work, while Steve was insistent it was too dangerous to risk it again. 

“Hopping that fence is clearly out of the question right now,” he said, shuddering. 

Jonathan looked at him sympathetically, along with you. 

“...what if we go over it?”

Everyone turned to look at Eddie, confused.  He looked at everyone nervously, but with an idea clearly in mind.  The lightbulb over his head flashed. 

“What if Miss Superpowers here — gets us over it?  Meaning we don’t climb it, or mount it.  We just…float…?...over it…?”

Dustin begins to grin, looking over and Mike and Lucas.  Even Eleven looks hopeful.  She turns to Hopper.  “I can do that.”

Hopper sighs, battling it still.  “That doesn’t mean we aren’t in for a rude awakening on the other side.”

“We’re in for a rude awakening no matter what we do,”  Lucas speaks with fervency.

It’s a lot of back and forth from there, and you feel Steve’s arm slip across the back of the couch so that he can massage your neck with his fingers.  You sigh at the touch, relieved to have him touching you somehow.  You inch closer to him, and he does everything in his power not to lift your legs so that they can drape over his.

“But if we all wait until after the mandate,” Jonathan is saying.  “That’ll only put us in even more danger rather than doing it now.  Or, well, before this weekend.  Before next week.”

“I think it’s worth it.” 

Your voice causes everyone to look in your directions.  Steve’s fingers halt but stay in place.  You take a breath, continuing. 

“If we…branch off again.  In our groups.  This time we’d only need 2.  The group here, and group 1, can go with us, or with Hopper and El over to where the gate might be re-opening.”

“That’s true,” your uncle agrees.

“Actually, no, we’d need 3,” Jonathan points out.  “Someone has to stay here.  Make sure no one seeks shelter here, or tries to break in and steal supplies.  Shit’s getting gnarly out there.  Nancy said so over the walkie.”

“Okay, so 3 groups,” Mike said.  “That’s worth it.” 

Lucas and Dustin verbally agreed with him.

Hopper was contemplating it deeply. 

Murray nodded at him, “Jim, this could work.” 

The retired cop pursed his lips, still thinking.  But he didn’t argue it.

Just then, the others got back.  Will, Joyce, Robin and Nancy all walked in.  When they saw you, they sagged with relief. 

Joyce made her way over with Robin, kneeling in front of you.

“Sweetie, how’re you doing?” Joyce stroked your arms while Robin gave you the saddest of smiles. 

You returned their smiles, weekly.  “M’alright.”

Joyce fawned over you like a doting mother, and you saw Robin looking over at Steve with a furrowed brow.  She could tell he wasn’t okay, and it worried her.

“We have a plan,” Dustin said enthusiastically.

“Nooo.  We have an idea,” Jim corrected firmly.  Dustin scoffed along with Mike, both beginning to argue back.

“Guys, we have to make sure no one else dies out there, alright?”

Steve’s words come out harsher than he meant for them too, and his voice slightly hitches at the end. 

Everyone stares, and the silence is thick. 

You look over to see Steve, his eyes hardened with trauma.  He sighs, feeling bad and running a hand through his hair as he looks down and mutters an apology to Dustin and Mike -- who both honestly can't even blame him. 

You reach out to squeeze Steve's thigh, unable to not offer him comfort.  You really don’t care who sees it right now as your thumb massages his pant leg.

Robin definitely pinches her brows together, looking between the two of you.  But she figures that Steve just probably feels bad, given how he has treated you like shit then had to deal with bringing you back from the dead.  That’s probably it…right?

But Nancy knows that look in Steve’s eyes.  He doesn’t ever look that way unless he’s…in love.  No matter how traumatizing or upsetting something is, this look is different.  And that’s confirmed for her whenever Steve goes back to massaging your neck, instinctively tilting his head towards you, even as he stares down at his lap.

Jim clocks Steve’s outburst, frowning.  “Exactly,” he agrees in a low voice, carefully.  “No one’s going through that again.”

Everyone shuffles their feet.  After some silence, Mike speaks first: “I’m really glad you’re alright, Bauman.” 

That breaks the ice, and everyone adds their verbal agreements.  You feel your cheeks flush.

“Bauman Squared is a badass,” Jonathan adds, smiling softly.

“Never seen someone cheat death like that,” Eddie nods.  “Most metal shit I’ve ever seen.”

You let out a breathy, sheepish chuckle while Steve’s fingers absentmindedly trace the nape of your neck and top of your spine, seeking silent comfort. 

“You guys saving my life was way more metal,” you say, voice weak but grateful.  You look at Eddie and Jonathan, then turn to Steve — squeezing his leg again.  His hand on your neck slips to rest there, wrapped around the curve protectively.  Almost possessively.

Now Robin is onto something.

“Steve never stopped,” Dustin adds.  "Not for a second."

Jonathan's nodding. "Not one."

Steve digs his toe into the ground, eyes staring a hole into the carpet.  He’s seated so close to you, letting it ground him as he frowns at the ground.

Jonathan can tell someone needs to change the subject, for both your sakes.  He clears his throat.  “So let’s figure this out then.  A plan that won’t cost any of us our lives again.”

You turn to look at him, nodding.  Everyone else nods, too.

Hopper takes a deep breath, looking at everyone intently before turning to Joyce.  “Alright.  First, let’s sift through the supplies you all got today.  Get it stashed.  We also need to start storing things in the basement soon, so that we can all stay there safely after the mandate gets put in place.  We'll need to do it this weekend.”

Joyce gets everyone to follow her outside to her car and unload everything into the kitchen, so that they can all sort through the canned food and other supplies.  Robin quickly knelt to give you a tight hug first, saying how fucking relieved she was that you were still here.  You hugged her back before she ran off to help the others.  Hopper stays behind with you, Murray and Steve.

“Dr. Owens will be coming here in the morning to check on your shoulder,” Hopper is telling you.  He really is a comforting father figure, and a strangely calming presence.  “Here, lemme take a look real quick.” 

You let him feel around, swallowing down the urge to hiss out in pain.  Hopper says it could just be sprained, or maybe even fractured.  But he says it's best if you don’t take any chances.  “Go ahead and lay down for the rest of the day, alright?  Get some sleep.  You’ve done…more than enough.”

You look down, ashamed.  “I’m so sorry.”

That makes Hopper look at you quizzically, brow furrowed.  Murray does too. 

“Why in the world are you sorry?” Hopper asks.

Steve looks at you in silent dismay. But you're sighing with your eyes downcast, not noticing...instead feeling his gaze.

“...'cause, if this hadn’t happened," you were saying, "We might’ve actually gotten something.  This put everyone behind.  I just…hate that I did that.”

Your uncle looked so disheartened.  “Kiddo, this isn’t your fault.  You didn’t do this.”

“It’s my fault,” Steve murmured, shamefully.  “I should’ve – should’ve…”

“No one is at fault here.  Period.”  Hopper spoke firmly, but with parental empathy and assurance.  He looked at Steve, hard now.  Then back at you.  “You guys did everything you could.  Alright?  We’re not behind.  If anything, we’re farther along now that we’re all safe and can actually come up with a better plan.”

You nodded.  He was right.  Hopper gave your knee a squeeze, ruffingling your hair for a moment before looking back at Steve sadly.  Steve hadn’t looked up again, frowning at his lap.  Hopper ducked his head to his eye level.  “Hey, kid.  You busted ass in making sure we didn’t let us lose a soldier today.  You get that, right?”

Steve shuddered a deep breath through his nose, curling in his lips.  After a few beats, he gave a curt nod.  Hopper’s frown deepened. 

“Steve.  You saved a life today.”

Steve looked up at him with the saddest eyes.  Murray was watching him with more empathy than you’ve ever seen.  You reached over to take Steve’s hand with your wrapped one.  He clutched it instantly, mindful of your injured palms and applying the pressure of his grasp to your fingers. 

“Yeah, you did,” you added softly.

Murray swallows, shuffling.  “Thank you.  For saving my niece today, Steve.”

Steve gives him the quickest of smiles and nods.  It’s clear that he’s fighting off emotion.

Hopper can tell that Steve is really struggling, and he gives his shoulder a squeeze before rising to stand.  He looks between the two of you.  He’s…picking up on the vibe.  He thought that maybe Steve just felt really shaken up about having to watch someone actually die today, then save their life.  That shit causes lifelong PTSD.  But Hopper could tell, it was more than that.  He cleared his throat.  “Let’s help her upstairs.”

But Steve immediately stood. “I got her.” 

Hopper and Murray watched him help you up, hooking your good arm over his shoulders.  Tenderly.  Kindly.  Protectively.  Steve's eyes, soft and fond, never looked away from you.

…yeah, the two grown men knew. They were 19 once.

Robin rounded the corner.  “Steve, can I help?”

Steve was walking up the stairs with you.  “S’okay, I got it.  Love you, Robs.” 

Robin scrunched her eyebrows together, confused as she watched her best friend continue to mount the stairs with you.  But Hopper, who was still watching you both as you walked upstairs, just gave her a reassuring nod.  Robin cocked an eyebrow.  What did Hopper know that she didn’t yet?  And Murray, who had an all-knowing expression on his face.  It was much more somber, compared to his usual shit-eating-grins that he wears when he’s onto something.  But still.  He was onto something. 

Murray cleared his throat awkwardly, before moving towards the kitchen. 

Hopper stopped him.  “Hey.  You alright?”

The smart-alec know-it-all actually paused to reflect before answering that question.  He took a deep breath. 

“You know that feeling you get when you’re worried sick El won’t come back, or something’ll take her?” 

Something flashes in Murray’s eyes, and it holds more vulnerability than he has ever shown. 

“I get it now.  That’s how I felt today.  And it did get her.  And I was the one here, telling them –” Murray stopped, intasking a sharp inhale and collecting himself.  “I get it now.”

Hopper’s concerned gaze exuded empathy and kindness towards Murray.  He patted his shoulder, hard, before Murray nodded and walked off to his room, muttering something about being back to help in a bit.  Hopper let him go.

Robin was still standing there, awkwardly.  “Hop, should I…do something?  I mean, my best friend just brought someone back from the dead today, and I’m not really sure he’s alright because he’s never one to crack but I know that he needs to eventually and —”

Hopper sighed, giving her a polite shake of the head and gently cutting her off.  “I think he needs to be with her for a while.  Trust me.  He’ll thank you for it.”

With a pat on her shoulder, he walked to the kitchen.  Robin stood there, perplexed.  Because while the circumstances were grim, and Steve was the most giving person that she knew — since when did her best friend fall hard for the girl he hated the most?

***

Steve was helping you slip out of your combat boots and socks.  Then your army pants.  He carefully helped slip some of his sweatpants over your legs, fasting them over your hips and tightening the string as tight as they’d go.  Then, he gingerly peeled your shirt off — mindful of your bad arm.  He slipped your hands into the arms of his yellow crewneck before you ducked to let him pull it over your head.  It was all definitely baggy on you...which you found yourself adoring. It felt intimate. Special.

The whole time, Steve was quiet.  The air felt tense.  And you knew that he was not about to make it much longer without finally releasing whatever it was that he was holding back.

Until today, you had never seen Steve Harrington cry.  You began to wonder if he ever let himself cry.  Even when the Russians were torturing him, he panicked instead of crying.  The only time that Steve had allowed himself to even get tearful was about Max.  But even so, he didn’t let it show much.  You figured that he maybe let himself cry whenever he was alone, or whenever it was just him in Max’s room.  He’d shown vulnerability that one day, when you both sat with her, when you read her letter to him out loud.  Steve was just…determined not to break down. 

So yeah, seeing him like that today?  Bawling his eyes out over you, of all things?  You were still processing that.

“Hey… How you feeling?” you asked him in a low voice, ducking your head and trying to catch his gaze.  Reaching up with your good arm, you played with the ends of his hair.  But he didn’t answer.  He seemed distracted, lost in thought as he stared at his shirt on you, his hands on your hips.

You swallowed, trying again.  “...wanna talk about it?”

He pursed his lips so you wouldn’t see them tremble. The words he should have said got stuck in his throat.  He swallowed thickly, Adam's apple bobbing.  He settled for —

“M’gonna shower real quick, okay?” 

Your heart sank at his words, breathed more than spoken.

Steve looked up at you with his best tight-lipped smile. You almost cried at the pain you saw behind it.  It was unfamiliar.  Completely foreign for him.  But there was a time for everything, and you knew it best not to push him right now. Not that anything had stopped you before. Normally, you’d grill him and not pay any mind to whatever argument it would cause.  But something about the way that Steve looked right now — so solemn, almost defeated — made you want to forget any sort of friction that the two of you so often had. It had seemed to subside a bit.

After that night.

Not completely, of course. Would it ever be gone completely? This catastrophic rivalry between the two of you? Unlikely. Then again, maybe it was just a matter of figuring out what to do with it.  For now, you knew it best to let him be.

You cautiously cupped his cheeks and dared to peck his lips. “Okay.  I’ll be right here.”

He didn’t say anything, but you knew that he was silently grateful.  He gave you a nod and headed into the bathroom.

You laid in bed, waiting patiently.  Some time passed before you heard the shower turning on.  Maybe ten minutes or so.  Finally, you could hear the faucet squeaking and the water began to run.  You laid underneath the covers, twiddling your thumbs and trying to not feel the pain in your shoulder.  But when another 20 minutes went by…then another 10…you couldn’t help but feel worried.  Something inside of you told you to go check on him.  It was like this…gut feeling. Still, you waited.

...and then you heard it.

A strangled choke.

The door had been left cracked, so you followed the sound and slowly pushed it open.  The air was hot, steamy.  You swallowed hard, hesitant to speak.

“Steve?”  Your tone was wary, timid. “I just…wanted to check on you.”

The silence that followed felt like it lasted a year.  The water splashing onto the ceramic floor of the tub is all you heard behind the shower curtain. 

"Can I come in?" you asked softly, pleading.

Then finally, a tight voice answered —

“Please."

Your clothes were on the floor in seconds, even though you grunted and hissed in pain when removing the shirt.  You couldn’t get into the shower fast enough.

Peeling back the shower curtain, you found Steve’s back to you with his head underneath the stream of water. He was engulfed in steam and mist, yet you could make out his back muscles and how tense he was as he leaned a palm against the tile wall.  His head was down, the hot water seeping down and hard onto the tub at his feet near the drain.  God, he was beautiful.  Even when he was such a prick in high school, you knew even then that Steve was still pretty. If you were being honest, though, he seemed far more beautiful now.  His toned, athletic torso glistened underneath the shower head, his skin the perfect shade of sun kissed tan.

Steve turned his head over his shoulder in your direction, slowly.  Almost afraid.  His gorgeous brown eyes were red and bloodshot, even more than they had been before.  Sad brown orbs stared back at you, water clinging to his lashes and his soaked hair.  There were unshed tears pooling inside those eyes, and he was just a blink away from letting them all fall down. 

He finally turned his whole body to you as you looked back at him, heartbroken, stepping towards him and reaching for his waist.  You could see his breathing intakes were short, the way you get just before you have a breakdown.

“Steve,” you started, devastated.

“I just — c-can you just —”

Hold me, you knew he was trying to ask.  Just hold me.

Steve’s voice broke halfway, timid in a way you’d never heard before. Not even that night, when you two had let all the walls come down. You knew what he was asking now. To be held, comforted. He just couldn’t say it, because he didn’t know how. For a fleeting second, you wondered if he considered the possibility of you saying no. If he thought that maybe his pain was some kind of burden, or shameful.

You brought him into your arms without saying a word, using your good arm to wrap up around his neck and your bad arm — screw it — to hold his waist.  You stroked and gripped at the wet hair that sat at the nape of his neck, feeling his lips dig into your shoulder.  You turned your head so that your lips were pressed to his temple, breathing against him.  Steve clung to you desperately, as if trying to use it as confirmation that you were actually still here...

Despite the last two nights, this is the first time you both truly felt naked in front of each other. You both stood, skin to skin, the water falling around you both, and while there was nothing sexual about this time — that seemed to make it stronger.  It felt as though your bodies were connecting in some sort of irreversible way.  Two souls being tethered, permanently intertwined.

“I almost lost you today.”  

Steve’s words sent shivers against your skin. You felt them more than you heard them. 

The memory of it was haunting for you, yes — but the way that his body trembled against yours with a barely restrained sob in his throat while in your hold, made you believe it had been even worse for him. It’s not every day that you witness someone’s eyes go lifeless in front of you. It’s not every day that you almost have the person you began to care about be taken from you in the worst possible way.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily, Harrington,” you tried, but when the only answer you got was him squeezing you tighter, you stopped deflecting. 

“I’m so sorry,” you murmured into his shoulder, brushing your lips against his skin. “M’really, really sorry.”

You felt him shake his head against you. No, don’t be sorry.

“I know that you…” you trailed off, sighing.  “You guys went through hell.  Bringing me back. But hey, I knew that you’d be there for me. Even when I was astral planing.”

He still didn’t laugh.  Not even a little.  He just clung to you like a lifeline, trembling against you and haunted by the memory. 

You knew he was mentally fucked up from it.  Hell, you were too. But if you were being honest, there’s not much hell you’d had to go through on your end.  You were out like a light, then back again.  Sure, the pain was excruciating.  But for you, it was over just as soon as it had started.

Steve didn’t have such luxury, though.  You realized now that he’d had to watch you.  

Watch you fall.  

Watch you get hurt.  

Watch you die. Before —

“You saved me, okay? I’m right here.”

Pulling back only enough to look at him, you dared to cup his cheeks again and brush away his stray tears with your thumbs. Normally, he’d cringe at the mere thought of being emotional in front of you. That just wasn’t like him to be that way in front of anyone, least of all you. But right now, he looked lost and afraid. And he didn’t seem to care in the slightest how weak he looked or felt in front of you right now. 

In fact, the way he was looking at you — so haunted and traumatized — brought your heart a sense of pain that it never usually felt. You wanted to take it away from him, make it go away.

“Not going anywhere,” you promised him in a whisper, gently pulling the nape of his neck towards you so that he was leaning his forehead against yours.

In this moment, you thought back on how Steve had always had an oddly comforting presence about him, despite his cocky attitude. It surprised you, really. It came so naturally to him. But right now, it’s him who needed it. And that was alright with you.

“You guys got me,” you murmured.

Steve closed his eyes, his sharp nose nuzzling yours. 

“But what if we didn’t?” he breathed.

You watched as trails of shower droplets and tears made trails, finally released and passing over his perfectly placed moles and faint freckles.

“Fuck, Bauman, if I didn’t — if you’d…”

You held your breath as he choked on his whispered words, scared of them as he bit down hard on his lip. He couldn’t say it. He just couldn’t. 

“God,” he shuddered in a whisper, clenching his eyes shut again as he leaned his forehead to yours. “If you were gone…”

“Hey, hey,” you shushed him gently.  

“After everything I’ve said, fuck…”

“Steve, it’s okay,” you breathed, your fingers stroking the wet locks of his hair near the nape of his neck.

“Can’t lose you,” Steve said in the most inaudible, croaked whisper.

“You didn’t, okay?” 

“I did,” he managed to wheeze, whispered and cracked. “I fucking did.”

You pulled back, forcing him to look at you.  His chocolate brown eyes were rimmed red, strained and distraught at the memory. 

Your hands still cupped his cheeks, gently tugging at the skin beneath his anguished eyes.  “You didn’t, and you won’t.”

You carded your fingers through his dropping locks of hair, pushing it away from his face so that you could look him dead in the eye when speaking to him.  You spoken in that foreign hushed tone that you seemed to only have reserved for Steve, breathing the words against his skin in the hot mist of the shower.  You pecked his lips between the words of comfort, letting each one linger long and longer.  And Steve leaned into each one, becoming more desperate and passionate each time.  And he physically refused to part his lips from yours, even when coming up for air was something you both needed. He just kept pressing short kisses, both feather-like yet urgent, to your lips in a series multiple pecks before burying his head back into your shoulder again. Steve curled more into you as you stroked his back.

“I’m right here, Steve,” you murmured to him.

Finally, he choked on a broken sob that he’d been so desperately holding back. The way it sounded so strangled and strained, you could tell just how painfully lodged it had been in his throat this whole time. It broke your heart into a million microscopic pieces, and as you held him in your arms you realized just how vulnerable this boy was despite never letting it show. Steve Harrington might’ve been an arrogant heartthrob in his teen years, but underneath it all he was just a boy longing for something more. He had so much love to give, despite not knowing what it felt like to have it given to him.

Except with you. With you, he could. 

He would.  He did.

“Here as long as you’ll have me,” you promised him.

The two of you stood there in the shower for God knows how long. You let him break down for however long he needed, which still felt cut off too soon. And after you both finally got out, Steve kissed you all the way from the bathroom to the bed, mindful of your injury. You let him lift you up and carry you there, lowering you onto the mattress with his lips still glued to yours. You let him feel every inch of your skin, delicately exploring it with hunger and need, as his lips glided across your jaw and his perfect teeth nipped at your neck. You let him suck your nipples as he squeezed your hips, keening in his grasp and allowing yourself to let go. 

And when Steve’s hard length pushed against your thigh, you let his hand lift you from underneath the bend of your knee so that he could push into you until you felt him up in your ribcage.

Everything was slow, lovesick and heartfelt.

This time it wasn't sex. This was lovemaking.

You let him groan into your mouth as you moaned into his. You let him whisper things to you that were somehow dirty yet beautiful, and when he began to quietly murmur into your lips something about needing you — something about not leaving him alone — you pulled his perfect mess of damp hair and swore into his lips that you would never leave him. Never never never, thrust thrust thrust.  He fell apart, and so did you. He was desperate, and so were you. He needed you, and you needed him.

Steve loves you.

And you love Steve.

Neither of you said it yet. But it didn't matter, because your uncle was right. 

We do love Steve.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

thank u angels sm or supporting this series. :''') it's been so fun writing a reader related to someone other than Dustin or Hopper, or even the Wheelers. feel free to send me requests related to this series -- do you have ideas or things you might wanna see unfold in this? I'm open.

tag list (thank u guys ily): @xprloki @erastourvip @get0ut0fmyr00m @eddiemuns0nl0ver @marrowfrog00 @poppet05 @wiltedflowersundertowers @pleuviors @pumpkinonice @ihaveproblemsihaveproblems @brinleighsstuff @definitelynotherr Originalthingparadise @goosy-goose @frostandflamesfanfic @x-theolivia @beesox @definitelynotherr

IF I FORGOT YOUR TAG, PLS LMK! SOME OF THEM, TUMBLR WOULD NOT NOT LET ME TAG :( BUT FOLLOW ME FOR UPDATES:)

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington smut #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington one shot #stranger things fanfiction #enemies to lovers trope #Steve is a hopeless romantic #even when he's an idiot #you're an idiot

[hungharrington]

What do you think Steve's favorite part of your body is? Ass? Boobs? Thighs? Lips? or something else?

you’re delirious if you think he has just one favorite babycakes ! at any given moment, you could ask him and he’d probably still manage to surprise you.

sometimes steve’s predictable — wear that low cut top? your boobs are the thing he can’t get enough of. he’s eying them, sneaking a squeeze, dropping a hickey when he can so everyone knows that those beautiful boobs are taken. a tight skirt? you can be pretty sure he’s drooling over your ass, especially with how he insists you walk before him and how he just happens to have his hand in your back pocket the whole night.

but! but he still surprises you!

you wear a new dress that he’s never seen before and steve can’t keep his hands off you, can’t stop pawing at your sides, can’t stop kissing up your neck even though you’re definitely going to be late for you date and when his hands smooth down your sides, he groans appreciatively and rolls his head back, “god, you look gorgeous. i honestly don’t think i can let you leave like this— i think i’m too obsessed with how fucking good you look in this dress.”

then he sinks to knees, his hands creeping around your waist to hold you as he kisses, slow and languid kisses atop your tummy. and you laugh, a little in surprise, a little in disbelief because he’s kissing your tummy.

“i would’ve thought you’d love the ass…” you comment quietly. you make a move to swivel around but steve’s hands don’t let you, his brown eyes peering up at you sincerely as he says, “are you kidding me? i mean, it’s great as always—“ he gives it a little pat, still grinning up at you endearingly. “but this—” he runs his hand down your sternum, trailing across the plains of your stomach. “and these.” his hands trails down to your hips, giving them a firm loving squeeze. “and christ, don’t get me started on these.” his huge hands wrap around the skin of your thighs and you have to fight the inbuilt instinct of parting your legs whenever steve gets his hands on them.

steve kisses the exposed skin, his nose nuzzling in, stealing the scent of the perfume along your inner thighs before he raises himself off his knees. his hands tuck under your jaw, cradling it as he kisses you once, quick, before mumbling against your lips, “fuck, honey, i’m— it’s adorable that you think i could focus on anything else.”

#basically :) he KNOWS how to make every little part of you is loved to PIECES #this got away from me #DO U GET THE VIBES #you could be like ‘do you like the new hair clips i got?’ and he’s somehow like. wait stay there. ur eyes in this light…. #HOPELESS ROMANTIC HE IS!!!!! #you’re trying to show him a new top but he’s too entranced with your shoulder blades— too keen to press a thousand kisses there #he’s the type to say ‘i adore you knees. even if they give u pain’ #LOVER! MF! BOY! #[sobbing] when will he be mine #is this in character at this point? idk. extrapolating his sweetheartness to this point! #jay answers #anon #steve x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington

[ghosttotheparty]

For the dialogue prompts: Steddie + 24. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” “Probably not.”

i did another one-shot with this prompt here as well :) (this is a no upside down au/high school au; eddie is a senior (his first senior year) and steve is a junior) {part 2 // part 3} cw: substance use; weed; very brief reference to child neglect & alcoholism; little bit of internalised homophobia

It's not often Eddie sees Steve Harrington in detention. Not often meaning never. He's out of place here, sitting at a creaky desk with Eddie and the others, in his pristine polo and shiny hair.

Eddie stares at him for a moment when he walks in, hovering in the doorway and eyeing Steve's posture. He's slouched in his seat, arms crossed, almost brooding, and Eddie feels rabid as Steve meets his eyes and cocks an eyebrow. But he behaves (for once).

He sits next to him, scooting his chair a little too close as he whispers, "What'd you do?"

"Nothing," Steve grumbles, and Eddie grins.

---

Steve's never actually talked with Eddie Munson. But that doesn't stop him from looking at him. He sees him in the hallways all the time, sees his hair that's almost at his shoulders, long and frizzy in a way that would be curly if Eddie took proper care of it. He sees him make faces at people, sees him draw in his notebook, and Steve is fascinated.

Eddie smiles like he's feral, all wide-eyed and shining, and Steve loves his smile, even if he doesn't admit it to himself. It's an exciting smile.

Somehow even though they've never spoken, Eddie seems perfectly comfortable sitting next to him (right next to him; maybe a little too close, but Steve isn't complaining) and talking to him.

"No, seriously," Eddie says. "What'd you do?"

Steve sighs, letting his head fall back to look at the ceiling.

"Uh." He keeps his voice quiet. There are other kids in the room, but none of them seem to care very much about the two of them. They're all sitting with their heads down on their desks, probably asleep. "I might have cussed out a teacher."

Eddie's eyes become even wilder, and his grin broadens, and Steve can't help but smile with him, his face flushing as Eddie knocks their shoulders together.

"You are so much cooler than I thought you were."

"Wow."

"Who was it?"

"Fisher."

"What'd he do?"

"Uh," Steve sighs again. "He, like, scolded me for not paying attention because I couldn't follow along, and I kind of just... snapped. Said he's a shitty teacher and maybe I'd be able to follow along if he wasn't so fucking boring."

"Steve Harrington. You're my hero."

Steve laughs. He hasn't laughed all day, but Eddie fucking Munson manages to get him to giggle, and then his face flushes with heat again.

They have to be quiet when detention actually starts, and Steve doesn't get the chance to ask Eddie what he did to get detention. But he can guess: he was probably late to class a few too many times, or neglected to turn in an assignment again. Something that Eddie is notorious for.

---

They fall silent when detention starts, and Eddie sees Steve lay his head down. He lets himself watch, admiring the way Steve pushes his hair out of his face before he sighs and looks across the room, blinking at the chalkboard. His eyes glaze over after a moment, and his eyebrows furrow like he's thinking hard about something. And Eddie is curious about what goes on in Steve Harrington's head. He has a feeling it's nothing good when Steve blinks his eyes, sniffling and tilting his head to lay it on his forearm. He looks like he's going to cry.

Eddie pulls his bag close and rips a scrap out of one of his notebook, rummaging around in the bottom of the bag for a pen before he scribbles a note and slides it onto Steve's desk.

you ok?

Steve lifts his head to look at him, and somehow his face falls even more as he reads it, and Eddie suddenly wants to wrap his arms around him, this boy he's never even spoken to, as Steve looks over at him and shrugs weakly.

What's wrong? Eddie mouths.

Steve looks back at the nose, biting his lip, and then he gestures for the pen, and Eddie passes it to him.

just feel like shit

Eddie looks at the note, contemplating, ultimately deciding that he can't give him a hug right here and now (unfortunately), and he draws the lines for tic-tac-toe before passing it back to Steve.

Steve looks at it and smiles.

He glances up at the teacher, who's reading something, and he moves his chair closer to Eddie, leaving the paper between them. The movement makes Eddie's stomach flutter, and he internally curses himself, because now is not the time to think about how he has a crush on a straight boy.

But he can't do anything about it, because Steve lays his head back down, drawing a little X in the center square, and his cheek squishes against his arm, and his hair falls to the desk, and he looks beautiful. Eddie looks away from him, but leans down, crossing an arm over the desk in front of himself and resting his chin on it.

They play three games, passing the pen back and forth. Steve wins the first two, and it makes him smile again and again, and Eddie decides he's set the world alight to make him smile. It makes his eyes squeeze shut in a way that's going to leave crow's feet behind when he's older. Eddie suddenly hopes he gets to see it.

Eddie sticks his tongue out at him like a child when he finally wins a game, drawing a sharp line through his Os, and Steve snorts, shaking his head at him.

Eddie sits up while Steve is staring at their next game, analyzing Eddie's Os carefully, and he stretches his back, looking across the room. Peters is asleep now, slouched over at his desk and snoring quietly, his book on his chest.

Eddie grins, elbowing Steve and gesturing with a jerk of his chin when Steve looks up at him.

Steve makes a face at Peters, looking oddly disappointed in him, and Eddie almost laughs, pressing his lips together when Steve looks back at him.

---

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Eddie whispers softly, and Steve glances him up and down, scanning his ripped jeans and his Megadeth t-shirt that's stained, the black fabric spotted reddish orange, his tangled necklaces and heavy rings.

"Probably not."

And Eddie just gives him this grin, this shit-eating, let's-break-the-law type of grin that makes Steve want to break the law. And Steve watches as he snatches the pen up from the table and grabs his backpack, standing up and crossing the room. The chains hanging from his jeans jingle happily, but Peters doesn't stir, and neither do the other kids, who just cast looks at Eddie and then lay back down or look back at whatever homework they're doing. Steve watches him, until he stops in the doorway like he can feel him watching.

Eddie turns back around, meeting Steve's eyes, and he gives him a look, widening his eyes and shaking his head before he beckons dramatically like they're going to be late for something. Steve glances at Peters, who hasn't moved.

And he follows Eddie.

Eddie is beaming when he follows him out, leaving their chairs behind, still out of place, and he starts to laugh as they head down the hallways toward the exit before he tosses an arm over Steve's shoulder, jostling him and messing up his hair. Steve doesn't mind.

---

"You're a terrible influence," Steve says, but he's smiling too, stumbling as Eddie pulls him along, arm still around his shoulders.

"But you were influenced so easily. You think I can get you into metal?"

"Absolutely not. Where are we going?"

They're exiting the building, the doors swinging shut behind them loudly, and Eddie just pulls him toward his van, standing out obnoxiously among the other students' cars.

"We're gonna smoke some weed," he says brightly. "Because you need it."

"In the school parking lot?" Steve questions, raising an eyebrow.

"Obviously not, we're leaving the school parking lot. I'll bring you back for your car when we're sober."

"Oh. Okay."

He just goes with it. He seems lighter than he did in the detention room, an absent smile on his face as he buckles himself in, looking around Eddie's van. It's a mess, but Eddie supposes it's representative of him. Steve jumps when Eddie turns the van on and the music comes on, the volume too loud, but he just laughs when Eddie headbangs as he buckles up.

They end up at the quarry. It's oddly quiet when the music turns off, replaced by the gentle sloshing of the water below them, by the leaves rattling in the wind.

They move to the back of the van, sitting opposite each other with their legs hanging over the edge, dangling above the dirt and gravel, and Eddie looks at Steve as he looks around, at the sky, which is now a soft grey.

"Why do you feel like shit today?" Eddie asks as he pulls a bong out from where it's hidden under a blanket.

Steve looks at him, his head falling back, and he looks tired, but relaxed. His shirt is wrinkled now.

"Just... I don't know. I feel..." He watches Eddie get the weed ready, eyes half-shut like he's going to fall asleep. "Tired. All the time. My dad was in town last week and he..." He's quiet for a moment. "I don't like him very much."

Eddie looks at him solemnly. One of his legs is propped up, his arm around it, the other kicking the air weakly.

"Is he gone now?" he asks before he takes a hit, the sound of the bubbling water filling the van.

"Yeah. Spain, this time."

"Spain? For what?" Eddie questions when he lifts his head, wrinkling his nose and exhaling.

"Who fuckin' knows, man," Steve says, laughing lightly, but it's a forced laugh, and Eddie can tell he wishes he knew.

"Does your dad suck?" he asks, passing the bong and lighter to Steve, who sighs and takes them. His chest rises and falls as he takes a hit, and Eddie's eyes follow the way his lips part to let the smoke out.

"Yeah."

Eddie nods.

Steve takes another hit, looking out across the quarry as he exhales, eyes a little glazed over.

"He wants me to..." Steve pauses, holding the bong back out to Eddie and sighing. "To follow in his footsteps. With his business and everything."

"Do you want to?" Eddie asks softly, gazing at him. Steve scoffs.

"Fuck no. 'D rather fuckin' die."

A laugh bursts out of Eddie and Steve grins lazily at him.

"What would you do?" Eddie asks. "If you got to pick. You graduate high school and then..."

Steve hums breathily, slouching and fidgeting with the end of the blanket as Eddie takes a hit.

"Probably just... take off," he says finally, his voice soft and thoughtful. "Pack my shit 'nd just leave."

Eddie exhales the smoke, smiling.

"You don't like it here?"

Steve scoffs.

"Hate this fuckin' town."

"This town loves you," Eddie points out, but Steve's face just falls a little, and he shakes his head.

"...They love who they think I am," he says softly after a moment. "They love King fucking Steve, not me. I wanna go."

"Isn't that the dream," Eddie says softly, ignoring the way his chest hurts for him. He wonders if he's the only one who knows Steve. This Steve, this... fragile, lonely boy.

"You too?"

"Jesus, yeah." Eddie passes the bong to him, still smiling, and he tosses the lighter. Steve catches it against his chest, looking at him curiously. "Hate this fuckin' town, man."

"You're not from Hawkins," Steve says. "Right?"

"Nope." He watches Steve flick the lighter, watches him duck his head to take a hit, watches his shoulders rise as he inhales. "Moved here with my uncle when I was nine."

Steve looks up, giving him a curious look as he leans back against the side of the van and exhales slowly.

"Why're you here?"

Eddie hums lightly, reaching for the bong. Steve tosses the lighter and giggles when Eddie doesn't catch it. Eddie flips him off. He grins.

"Dad was more into drinking than he was being a father," Eddie says. "And Ma didn't stick around long after he took up liquor. So. Wayne stepped in."

"Is he nice?" Steve asks after a moment, his voice so small it almost disappears behind the bubbling water. Eddie nods as he lifts his head.

"He's real nice," he says. "Kinda my best friend."

Steve smiles, listening.

"But he knows I hate it here. Knows I wanna leave as soon as I can. He's cool with it."

"Where would you go?" Steve asks, drawing both knees to his chest and leaning forward, hugging them to himself as he looks at Eddie like Eddie's going to tell him a story. He looks so young, like he's just a little kid, daydreaming about escaping a lonely town. Eddie's chest aches.

"Maybe San Francisco," he says softly, setting the bong aside. "Or some other big city. Somewhere I'll see other people like me. Somewhere I don't have to worry as much about being stared at, you know?"

Steve looks at him, his chin on one of his knees, and his eyes are shining at him.

"I like looking at you," he says after a moment, whispering. Eddie's stomach flutters again, and he smiles as Steve's face flushes pink. "...I'm kind of a lightweight. Sorry."

"'S okay," Eddie says softly, mirroring him, wrapping his arms around his legs and gazing across at him. "I like looking at you too."

He really does. Eddie always thought his eyes were brown, but they're hazel, lighter up close, specked with green and gold and the stars. His skin is spotted with moles that Eddie wants to memorize. Steve relaxes a bit at the confession, his lips curving into a smile, and he leans closer. Eddie leans closer too.

---

"Where would you go?" Eddie whispers.

He doesn't have to speak any louder. It's so quiet now, especially when Steve's head is a little cloudy and everything feels muffled.

"Anywhere," Steve whispers back. "Just... pack up and drive. Follow the roads to wherever they take me."

Eddie is smiling. His eyes keep flicking across Steve's face in a way that makes him feel a little self-conscious, wondering if there's something on his skin, but Eddie is just looking at him, his eyes aimlessly wandering across his face.

"Sounds nice," he says softly.

They fall silent, and Steve gazes at him. He looks so... soft.

Everyone makes him out to be so scary. Like he's a stray dog, like he's dangerous, but his eyes are dark and shiny, and he doesn't look threatening or menacing at all right now. His head is tilted like he's curious about what Steve is thinking, and his hair looks fluffy, and he just looks a little sad.

Steve wants to kiss him.

He hates himself for thinking it, for thinking how easy it would be to just... lean over. They're so close, and Steve's brain feels fuzzy, and for some reason, he doesn't think Eddie would mind all that much if Steve kissed him. But he can't.

Boys like Steve don't kiss other boys.

Especially boys like Eddie Munson.

It makes his chest ache, and his lip quivers. He sees Eddie notice it, the way the air shifts a little bit. Eddie's brows furrow, and he looks like he's pouting a little. And he's so adorable Steve wants to bite him.

"I hate this fucking town, Eddie," he says weakly, taking a breath to steady himself, because he doesn't want to cry. Not when he actually feels so... good. Good because he's a little high, but also good just because he's with Eddie, who doesn't seem to mind that Steve feels like shit. Eddie, who didn't tell him to just snap out of it, to just deal with it. Eddie, who just smiles despite the way Steve's eyes are glistening with tears, and leans in closer. (Close enough to kiss.)

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" he whispers.

It makes Steve laugh, and he wipes the tears that fall down his face.

"Probably not," he says, still laughing softly, his voice wavering, and he sets his chin back on his knee, looking at Eddie. A soft gust of wind blows into the van, and Eddie's bangs shift and his curls fly into his face.

"Let's do it," Eddie whispers after another moment of looking.

Steve blinks. Eddie's smile widens.

"Let's get out of here," he whispers. "Let's just leave this fucking town, they don't need us."

Steve's heart beats faster, and he leans forward.

"Okay," he says.

"We should graduate first," Eddie says, voice still soft. "I gotta make my uncle proud somehow, so if I graduate this year, I'll wait for you, and then we can just..." He shrugs. "Pack our shit. Leave."

"Together?" Steve breathes.

"Yeah," Eddie says, as though it's obvious. Steve smiles, taking a breath, his legs falling as he stares at Eddie. He's serious.

Steve scoffs, smile widening.

"I can, uhm." Eddie swallows, shifting so he's crossing his legs. "I've been thinking about applying at that mechanic that's outside town, Morgan's? I heard they pay well, so I can... I can save some money up."

"I can get a job too," Steve says, almost excited. "There're tons of places in town that are hiring, and I can-- I can save up my allowance from my parents. And I can sell my Beemer."

"Your Beemer?" Eddie says, eyebrows flying up in surprise, which makes sense, Steve supposes. The care is practically who he is, what he's known for, but--

"We won't need it. We can take your van."

Eddie blinks, and his lips curve into a smile.

"Okay," he says softly. "Yeah."

They stare at each other for a moment as it sets it, and Steve's eyes burn.

"Really?" he asks weakly, and Eddie nods, smiling.

"Yeah," he says. "Fuck it. We'll take what we need and we'll just... go. Follow the roads to wherever."

Excitement floods Steve's body, and he moves onto his knees, taking a sharp breath, smiling and smiling and smiling.

"We can-- We can put a mattress back here," Eddie says, looking around the van. "We'll have to share, but--"

"I don't mind," Steve says abruptly. "I don't-- I don't mind sharing."

Eddie's eyes flicker across his face again.

"Okay," he says softly. "And we can... bring some bags and sort them out back here, and-- and food and water, and we can take turns driving. And every night it can be like this," he says, moving a little closer. Steve aches. "We can find beaches, and lakes, and mountains, and we can get high and just explore." His eyes are gleaming excitedly, and he's smiling. "I'll bring my tapes, and you'll get used to metal."

Steve giggles.

"Can I make you listen to my music too?" he asks, and Eddie gives a dramatic, silly eye-roll.

"I guess." And then he's just smiling. "I can bring books."

"Will you read to me?" Steve asks, and then his face flushes with embarrassment. "Just-- I'm not-- I'm not good at reading and--"

"I'll read to you, Stevie," Eddie says gently.

"...Okay."

They look at each other again.

"I can bring some maps," Steve says. "Atlases and stuff. So we know where gas stations are and stuff."

"Yeah, that's smart."

Steve doesn't hear that often. His face flushes with heat again.

"God, I'm so excited," Eddie says, and he's got that grin again, that grin that could convince Steve to do anything. "We just have to graduate. Then we can go."

"How soon after grad?"

"Soon as possible," Eddie says. "I'll pick up my stuff and say goodbye to Wayne, promise to send him postcards 'n shit, and then I can pick you up."

"I won't say bye to my parents," Steve decides out loud, shaking his head. "I'll just-- just leave them a note telling them I'm fine. Or if they're at home, I'll just go."

Eddie nods, eyes bright.

"We're gonna run away together," Steve realizes, his voice soft as he gazes at him, and Eddie tilts his head.

"Yeah. We are."

Steve hugs him.

---

Eddie startles with how sudden it is, Steve tacking him with a hug so hard they fall back against the wall of the van, but he wastes no time hugging him back, arms tight around his waist as Steve buries his face in his neck.

"Sorry," Steve says into his neck.

"Don't be," Eddie mumbles. "Wanted to hug you for ages."

Steve's arms tighten around him, and he settles against him, leaning so their chests press together. Eddie slides his hands over his back, pressing one into his hair. He smells nice.

It's a while that they stay there, wrapped around each other, but Eddie is content to stay there all night, as long as Steve needs.

When they finally part, they don't let go of each other. It's slow, the way Steve's hands slide to his neck, his fingertips cold and his palms warm as they press to his skin, and their faces are so close.

Steve's breath is warm on Eddie's face. Eddie tilts his head, and their noses brush.

He startles away, stomach flipping over, and Steve is looking at him, wide-eyed.

"Were you about to kiss me?" he asks breathlessly. Eddie's stomach clenches.

"I..." Of course he'd ruin everything so soon. "Yeah, I'm-- I'm sorry, I won't do it again, I just..."

But before he can spiral, Steve is reaching out and grabbing his face, pulling him in, and their mouths crash together. Eddie's eyes widen, and his hands fly into the air as he startles, but Steve just holds his face, and they're kissing.

Eddie closes his eyes, his hands finding Steve's shoulders, and the kiss softens as Steve slides his fingers into Eddie's hair.

---

It is soft.

Eddie is soft.

Steve moves closer as Eddie squeezes his shoulders and runs his hands over his biceps, his fingertips slipping under the sleeves of his shirt. Eddie follows, holding him with one hand and using the other to catch himself as he falls back against the wall of the van, and then he's pulling Steve closer by the belt loops of his jeans, and Steve falls against him. They're barely kissing now, just grinning against each other's mouths.

Steve kneels between his legs, spreading his knees to move as close as possible, so Eddie's legs are over his thighs, and he reaches to hold his face again, his palms pressing to Eddie's (soft) cheeks, fingers slipping behind his ears. He kisses softly too, almost tender as he presses a hand into the small of Steve's back and pulls him close. Steve hums, pulling back to tilt his head, glancing at Eddie's lips before he leans back in. They're kissed red, and Steve feels like his heart might be glowing.

Eddie tugs at his back again, shifting and sliding a hand down his thigh, squeezing and pulling

"C'mere," he mumbles. "Sit on my lap."

Steve giggles, shifting so he can sit atop Eddie's thighs.

"Thought you were gonna take me back to my car," he says quietly, pressing a soft kiss to Eddie's lips. Eddie's hands slide over his waist, and he tilts his chin up to look at him.

"I said I would when we're sober," he says, and Steve realizes what he's been looking at when his eyes flicker over his face. "Are you still high?"

Steve pauses, blinking at him.

"Mm... My head feels fuzzy but I can't tell if it's the weed or if it's because you're kissing me."

Eddie hums thoughtfully.

"Maybe we should stick around here a while longer just in case," he whispers. Steve smiles, leaning down and closing his eyes as their noses brush.

"Okay."

Eddie tilts his chin up. Steve kisses him.

"Can we do this when we run away together?" Steve murmurs when they part after a while, breathless.

"'Course," Eddie whispers, kissing him. He reaches up and holds the back of Steve's head, his fingers tangling with his hair, and Steve doesn't mind. He kisses him. "We can do whatever the fuck we want."

"Okay."

He kisses him. And kisses him, and kisses him, and he revels in it like the sunlight. Because he's kissing a boy, sitting atop his lap and feeling his warm hands run over his waist and back and legs, listening to his deep voice let out soft hums and breathy whispers of Steve's name as it all intensifies. And Steve never thought he'd find himself here, but he loves being here.

He runs his fingers through Eddie's hair, untangling it carefully as he sucks on Eddie's lower lip, and Eddie hums quietly, fingers pressing and kneading Steve's thighs in a way no one's ever done before, but it feels so good. Steve sighs.

The sky is dimming when they finally part for more than just breaths between kisses. Eddie laughs softly, hugging Steve's waist.

His hair is messy, frizzy from Steve's fingers, and Steve's shirt is partially untucked from Eddie's, and he kind of feels high, but it's definitely not the weed.

The feeling fades as they drive back to the high school, as Eddie reaches over and holds Steve's leg, as Steve reaches down and twists their fingers together. The parking lot is empty except for Steve's car. (Steve's care car that he's going to sell.)

"I'll see you tomorrow, sweetheart," Eddie says as Steve is getting out of the van. Steve blushes.

"You got a pen?"

"Uh... Yeah?" Eddie rummages through the glove compartment for one and hands it to Steve, who kneels on the passenger seat and pulls at Eddie's hand, uncapping it with his teeth. His brows furrow in focus as he carefully writes his phone number on Eddie's hand.

"Call me," he says as he finishes, the words slurred about the pen cap, and he lets go of his hand, capping the pen again. "When you get home."

Eddie looks at the number, smiling.

"Okay."

He tilts his chin up, which Steve is already learning is his silent sign for wanting a kiss, and Steve leans back into the van, ducking to avoid hitting his head as he stretches over the center console, a hand holding himself up on the passenger seat as he kisses Eddie. Their lips don't land square on each other, and they're both smiling too much to really kiss each other, but Eddie's hand is warm when it finds Steve's cheek, and it's perfect.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he whispers against Eddie's lips. Eddie's fingertip traces his jaw.

He has to tear himself away from Eddie after one last kiss.

He'll invite him to spend the night sometime when he calls him.

dialogue prompts!! ❧ buy me a coffee // check out my commissions ☙

#this is so much longer than i intended #will do the others tomorrow if i have time!!! #this was v fun i love high school aus #also love ppl falling in love unrealistically fast #i am a hopeless romantic #obviously #steddie #steddie fanfic #steddie one shot #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington fanfic #eddie munson fanfic

[steddiealltheway]

Steve and Eddie are the type to pretend that they’re really cool and not flustered around each other, but as soon as they’re out of eye shot from each other, Eddie is whooping while jumping up and down and Steve is keeling over willing his heart rate to go down while simultaneously giggling.

The rest of the party wonders how the two of them have no idea that they’re both equally pining after each other. Especially when Eddie and Steve have their separate celebratory moments in front of opposite ends of a window and make eye contact at the same time, turning bright red and awkwardly waving/nodding at each other (Immediately celebrating/shaking off the interaction again when they’re only a few steps away from the window).

#steddie #steddie crack #eddie munson #steve harrington #I just love them #they’re both such hopeless romantics #they would get flustered after saying hi

[itscherrylipsforme]

And same for my beautiful precious Steve

💘 couple moldboard for Steve and a f!curly brunette!writer!quirky!reader

Hi darling! Sorry it took me too long to answer, college didn't give me a single moment of peace, but I will be answering all the requests in the following weeks. Anyway, here you have a moodboard for Steve, reader and both of them. Hope you like them! 🥰

Steve Harrington

Brunette!writer!quirky!fem!reader

Steve x reader

#riley's moodboards #answered asks #saint valentine's event #always hopeless sometimes romantic event #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington moodboard #stranger things moodboard

[jadewritesficshere]

18+ Only MDNI

Steve who loves every inch of you. Steve who kisses you silly and holds your hand during sex. Steve who makes sure to call you beautiful every day, because to him you are the most beautiful person he's ever seen and every day he falls more in love with you.

Steve who finds out you don't see yourself as beautiful, who thought you had brushed his compliments off because you were shy not because you didn't believe him. Steve who holds you as you cry over your insecurities. Steve who spends extra time kissing where you are most insecure, making sure to lather you with love. Steve who washes your mouth out with soap every time he hears you talk bad about yourself (it's supposed to be a punishment and he knows you would enjoy being spanked too much). Steve who makes you watch yourself in the mirror while he fucks you, so you can see how he loves you and how hot you are. Steve who buys a thesaurus to find synonyms for beautiful that he can call you. Steve who loves every inch of you and hopes that you can start to love every inch of yourself.

#Steve Harrington is the most boyfriend to boyfriend like he is a hopeless romantic okay #He would be peak boyfriend material and he would love you no matter what #He canonically holds hands during sex HE WOULD 100% LOVE YOUR INSECURITIES #Stretch marks? He thinks they look prettier than lightning during a thunderstorm #Moles or freckles? Hell he has them too but he thinks they are prettier then constellations on you #Stomach? He loves it he loves to kiss and bite it #Thick thighs? He loves to feel them grip around him he loves the power in them #Hip dips? He knows you dislike the dip but he loves them he thinks its prettier then a mountain range #Acne? Doesn't bother him he will pop the ones you can't reach and if you don't want that he invests in a skincare routine you both can do #Eczema? He buys special lotion for you and massages it in (he would give you massages regardless) #Crooked teeth? He finds them charming but if you don't like them and are that distraught he would offer to get you braces (but he loves #Crooked teeth and thinks they are beautiful no one can replicate them and they are so uniquely you he loves it) #Listen idc what your insecurity is and neither does Steve he loves you regardless #Steve Harrington x reader #Steve Harrington/reader #Steve Harrington x you #Steve Harrington/you #Steve Harrington x y/n #Steve Harrington fluff #Boyfriend!Steve Harrington #Stranger Things #Jade is Talking

[resident-gay-bitch]

got the idea from this, don’t ask me why

“eddie.” steve whispered into the dark night.

eddie made a weird noise in response, not quite a word and not quite anything else.

“eddie, are you awake?”

eddie sighed, turned his head to face steve, still laying on his stomach, “well i am now.”

steve just looked up at the roof, “i… no, don’t worry. it’s dumb.”

“no, what?” eddie asked, trying to force his eyes open now, genuinely concerned for his boyfriend, “what’s on your mind, stevie?”

“well, it’s just something i overheard some girls talking about at work today, and it’s been on my mind.”

“what’d they say? we’re they homophobic?”

“no.” steve huffed with a smile, “no, it’s just… irs just silly.”

“okay…”

“well, they were talking and, well, one girl had asked her boyfriend something and she was telling her friend about it, and they were swooning over it.” steve turned to look at eddie, who barely had his eyes open, “i just wanted to ask you.”

“okay.” eddie said, curious and nervous.

clearly it was something important, for steve to be lying awake about it at this unholy hour. for him to wake eddie up about it, when he knows how much of a grump eddie is in the morning if he doesn’t get a full nights sleep.

“would…” steve cleared his throat and looked back up at the roof, “would you still love me if i was a worm?”

eddie tensed for a moment, “sorry… what?”

“if i was a worm.” steve said, like it was obvious

“yeah…?”

steve huffed, “if like, tomorrow i just woke up as a worm or something, would you still love me?”

eddie blinked a few times, pushed himself up to lean on his palm, “you woke me up for this?”

steve nodded, “it’s just been on my mind.”

steve seemed to genuinely care about the answer.

eddie smiled, reached forward to sweep his boyfriends hair back out of his eyes, “stevie, my love,” he said voice sticky sweet, a tenderness in his eyes that had steve’s stomach fluttering, “if you were a worm, and i was a bird, i’d pick you to eat first out of all the other worms in the world.”

and then he leant over and pressed a kiss to steve’s head and snuggled back into bed.

“love you, baby.” he muttered with closed eyes.

if you were a worm, i’d eat you first?

steve wanted to get mad, he really did. that’s not what he asked. he wanted to know if eddie would still love and take care of him. but he said it with such genuine sweetness that steve was conflicted. should he get mad, or should he fall deeper in love?

“eddie?” he asked again.

eddie huffed, “yes, stevie.”

“why would you pick me to eat first?” steve said.

eddie opened one eye to look at him, “because you’d be the tastiest worm, obviously.”

“but why?” steve asked.

eddie furrowed his brow, “because you would be the best looking worm in the world, and you’re so sweet on the inside it would be like a good bowel of lucky charms.”

woah, eddie really loved lucky charms. they were his most favourite cereal in the world, his most favourite breakfast, his most favourite snack. he was never allowed it as a kid because it was so unhealthy, so whenever he got it now he’d go crazy for the sugary treat.

lucky charms were eddie’s most favourite thing in the world to eat, and he just compared them to steve.

“probably better.” he mumbled again, eyes closed.

holy shit, no way! eddie said he’d be better than a good bowel of lucky charms?

steve couldn’t help the sickly sweet feeling that crept up inside him, the smile that worked it’s way to his lips. he loved eddie so much it made him dizzy.

“i’d eat you first too.” he said to eddie before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

eddie smiled, “i hope so.” he grinned, “have you seen my ass? best cake out there.”

steve shoved him and laughed.

“that’s exactly my reasoning.” steve curled into his boyfriends side.

eddie kissed steve’s temple, pulled him in close, “now sleep, no more waking me up.”

“love you, eddie.”

“love you too, wormie.”

oh yeah, eddie was it for him.

#jay writes #this just came out of nowhere fr #like i got this dumb idea by commenting something in someone’s tags and was like ima write a mini fic about it #i’ll link the post i rebloged from to inspire me #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #eddie x steve #steve is a hopeless romantic and eddie is a weird gremlin and they match so well #steddie ficlet #stranger things #stranger things 4 #no monsters au #established relationship #steve is so gone on eddie it’s sickening #but eddie’s been even further gone on steve for longer #eddie is such a weirdo fr #steve just loves romance and all those little things so genuinely and wants them all with eddie and does them all with eddie #but eddie is a weirdo and so he reacts to them in very non romcomesque ways and it always catches steve off guard but it’s why he loves him #like the time he got eddie flowers for their anniversary and instead of putting them in a vase eddie tried to plant the flowers in a pot #or when steve tells him he loves him in public settings eddie gets so flustered he just bites stebe #or when eddie proposes he does it with a song but 90% of the song is just about how hard steve makes him & how good his mashed potatoes are #like he’s so unhinged and steve just folds every goddamned time #eddie is a menace and steve loves him so #fluff #super snuggly late night fluff

[secretfanficwrite]

With Or Without You (1/?)

Eddie Munson x Hopeless Romantic!Bestfriend!Reader

Next Part

Word Count: 2k Warnings: angst Summary: A Halloween party leaves you wallowing in your own self pity. But is it better to confess or continue suffering?

Author's Note: I saw this headcannon on tiktok that Eddie likes to dress as the devil for halloween and literally it would NOT leave my brain. But I also haven't done an angsty fic yet and I love angst so apologies in advance :(

Holy Diver by Dio played softly on the stereo in Eddie's bedroom, soft vibrations left your mouth as you hummed along to the cassette of his favorite songs, too concentrated to attempt the words.

Eddie sat at the head of his bed, legs spread out straight and his head leaned back, supported by a stack of pillows. Your thighs were spread apart as you straddled his lap, leaning chest to chest. His hands were secured on either side of you waist, finger shifting lightly ever so often, drawing a soft tapping noise as his rings clicked against each other.

Your white dress had ridden up slightly, bunched at the top of your thighs, revealing the boyshorts under your stockings. You had changed prior to now, not thinking much about how the makeup could've stained your outfit.

You were leaned over the boy, his eyes closed as you applied more black eyeliner to his lids. You bit your tongue as it poked out the side of you mouth lightly. His eyes were twitching ever so slightly, not used to the sensation of an object so close to his eyeball.

Lifting your hand off his cheek you paused, eyes raking down his face and over his round pink lips. He looked so serene, waiting for you to continue, relaxed in your presence.

"Why'd you stop humming? I was enjoying it." he teased, eyes still closed but a small smirk appearing on his face.

Your lips quivered as you stared at him before answering, admiring his beauty once more. "I-I think I'm done"

You began to lift yourself off his lap, dropping you head down to look where you were going.

His hands tightened on your waist, halting your movements and holding you in place. Your breath caught in your throat eliciting a barley audible gasp you're sure he missed.

His eyes finally opened, the dark doe eyes staring into yours. They appeared more intense then ever when surrounded by black and red making your heart thump loudly.

A smile graced his features and his eyes slowly traveled up and down your face. "How do I look?" excitement laced through his question with a hint of suggestiveness.

You offered a small smile back, too nervous to give anything else. "It looks great"

His hands loosened on your waist indicating you could now stand up. You crawled off his lap backwards, sitting side saddle at the foot of his bed as he stood.

He stopped in front of his mirror, grabbing his pants at the belt loops and hiking them up some before his hands went to his hair. He lifted off the red horns that held his bangs back before readjusting the headband on his head and fluffing the curls around them.

Your bottom lip was being tugged at by your teeth as you couldn't help your gaze lower and travel down his figure covered head to toe in black clothing.

It was Eddie's idea for this years Halloween costume. He came to you in the hallway one day, excited about his brilliant idea of dressing as the devil and you as an angel.

He had let you do the work with picking out clothes for him and finding the accessories, like the horns and the angel wings. Cheap costume props you found at a store in town.

Taking a deep breath and pulling your gaze from the tall boy you finally stood up, grabbing the gold and white wings from the nearby chair and slipping your arms through the straps. You reached for the gold halo headband, walking up next to him at the mirror and slipping it on over your hair.

He stood there with a wide smile, his eyes observing every inch of you. When you were done he quickly brough his hand up, wrapping it around your waist and pulling you into his side roughly, causing you to grunt lightly. "We're hot"

A low giggle escaped your lips and you shook you head, looking down.

The warm feeling of his presence against you was again gone too soon as he let you go, walking out of the bedroom and into the main section of the trailer.

You stared at yourself in the mirror for a moment. You took in a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds before letting it all out at once. You lips began to twitch as you struggled to practice a small smile. Nervousness leaking through the cracks of your façade.

Clenching your jaw once more you turned quickly on your heel, leaning down to slip on your sneakers and walking out after Eddie.

He stood at the door, twirling the van keys in his right hand and holding his black case in his left. "Can you grab the beers?" He asked gesturing to the case on the counter. You nodded wrapping your fingers around the carboard before pulling it to your chest and wrapping both arms around it and yourself.

Eddie opened the door, bowing slightly and dramatically motioning with his hand for you to exit before him. You smiled, a heat beginning to raise on your cheeks as you made your way past him and down the steps.

You could hear the keys jingle as he locked the door behind you before running up and stopping at the passenger side door. You rolled your eyes and scoffed as he opened the car door for you, gesturing the same again. The same wide smile remaining on his face.

"Such a gentleman" you snorted some, drawing a laugh from him as he secured the door behind you and made his way to the driver's side. He hopped in, slamming the door behind himself and passing you his black case before starting the van and peeling off towards the back roads.

******

Your legs bounced in your seat, some out of nervousness and some excitement. When you heard news of the Halloween bonfire in the woods you couldn't help but wait in anticipation for a fun night with your friends. You had convinced Eddie to tag along, insisting he could do some deals there and make a few extra bucks. Your excitement increased by tenfold when he finally agreed.

Pulling up at the large fire you could already see it started and people littering the forest. It seemed chill so far, not seeing anyone doing keg stands yet or anything too stupid.

Eddie jumped out of the car, running around to open your door and taking both cases from your lap. You jumped out, holding your dress down before going to reach for the beer case.

He pulled back smiling at you "I got it, don't worry"

You nodded before you both turned and made your way to the edge of the small clearing.

Your head turned with a smile looking at him with wide eyes. "I think Robin should be here somewhere"

He ignored you for a moment, gaze locked off into the distance. His head turned first, a small smirk appearing on his face, but it wasn't directed to you. "What was that, princess?" His eyes finally met yours expectantly.

You wish your curiosity didn't get the better of you and you peaked in the direction he was staring. The smile instantly dropped from your face and your stomach turned.

Your eyes had landed on a tall brunette, dressed in head to toe leather with large crimped hair, a sexy take on your average Rockstar look. You instantly felt the need to cover up your exposed skin, suddenly less confident in your costume.

"Y/N!" A loud voice broke you out of your thoughts and you turned to see Robin running at you excitedly. A smile returned to your features as you couldn't help but laugh. She wore a green long-sleeve with baggy blue jeans and white sneakers. Her hair was done with more volume then normal and pushed back on the sides.

She smiled at your realization of her costume. "I'm Steve!"

You looked her up and down nodding, a small laugh in your voice "I can see that. Very creative"

"You and Munson look cute" she wiggled her eyebrows, leaning in slightly.

Rolling your eyes you gestured behind you "Yea he's been so excited about his idea fo-" As you turned to look at him you were met with a dark parking lot. "Where did he?..." You turned to search for him and your eyes landed in the familiar spot.

Eddie stood leaned up against a tree, a flirty smirk on his face and a cigarette in his hand. He had already begun to chat up the brunette, leaving you behind.

You felt slightly sick, pulling your eyes away and back at Robin. She stared at you with pity, seeing your face and demeanor drop right before her eyes.

She raised a hand resting it on your shoulder and pulling you along with her. "Come on. Let's go find Steve."

******

That idea was a bust. Steve had already found himself wrapped up with a girl, getting frustrated every time Robin and you tried to butt in and pull him away.

You hadn't seen Eddie for nearly the entire night except when you bugged him to give you one of the blunts he had packed in his jacket. He handed it to you with a sweet smile, not noticing the way your shoulders sagged and the deadpanned frown across your face, before turning back to the brunette.

You and Robin sat leaned against a tree just past the bonfire in silence, watching everyone around you. Your eyes scanned through the different couples and groups in the crowd, occasionally landing on the boy and girl.

Her hand rested on his arm and they leaned into each other's touch as he whispered things into her ear making her laugh.

You felt bitter.

The weed had not helped at all except to calm your anxiety, but made it hard to control where your mind wanted to go, only allowing you to focus on him and the scene in front of you

Your gaze dropped to your hands, running them through the dirt at the base of the tree and picking at the small blades of grass.

Why couldn't you just own up? You'd save yourself from so much pain. But what if it went wrong? Was it better to go on like this or to risk losing him altogether? You would have to get over him eventually either way. Neither option sounded great.

You felt a small shove against your arm, pulling your gaze up to look at Robin who stared in front of you. You turned seeing Eddie standing at your feet, his arm wrapped around her waist and pulled into his side.

"Are you ready to go? I told you I'd get you back safe" He smiled looking down at your sad slumped figure.

Your eyes flickered between him and her, not even aware of the disgruntled look on your face that made the girl's brows furrow.

Looking back down again, your voice came out as a whisper. "No, I'm just gonna go back with Robin" You could see her turned to you out of the corner of your eye, she held a confused look at your self-invitation but ended up shrugging.

"Are you sure?" His voice raised slightly in concern, but you still refused to look back up.

"yea it's fine" The answer came off a bit harsh and you felt you were the only one aware of the pain laced within as he answered back in an oblivious tone.

"Okay, I'll see you later. Take care of her" He finished, looking at Robin with one last smile before the pair walked off towards the white and blue van.

"You okay?" Robin's voice was hoarse as she called your attention. You looked up nodding softly, but not meeting her eyes.

"We should try Steve one more time yea? Head home as well?" you suggested, just wanting to change out of the white dress now caked in dirt.

She groaned, throwing her head back. "I supposed. It is his car after all" You both laughed as you stood, using each other and the tree for support before sauntering off to find the Casanova.

******

Author's Note: I stopped it kinda abrupt bc I'm vibin with this and kinda wanna make more parts. Lmk what ya'll think <3

Taglist-(Message me if you are interested in being added!) @multi-fandoms-stuff @mcueveryday

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie stranger things #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #oneshot #stranger things oneshot #munson #stranger things 4 #steve harrington #robin buckley #eddie munson x y/n #angst #hopelessly in love #hopeless romantic #eddie munson angst #stranger things angst

[ghostlyfleur]

𝐩𝐞𝐭 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬.

clingy!steve harrington x reader

♡

once steve finds his person, his angel, the love of his life, he’s all in. for the first time, he feels free to love as he wishes, to not hide in fear of being “too much”… too needy, too touchy, too mushy, too much.

he finally feels free. in previous relationships he’s been with girls who don’t like too much touch, or too many nicknames, or all the hopeless romantic mushy stuff steve longs to have, but now? with his sweet girl? he finally feels free. you call him the sweetest names, “my sweet boy” and “dreamy” and “puppy”, and it turns him into soft marshmallow fluff, melted at your feet.

so he calls you all the pet names he can think of, loving how flustered it gets you. “princess” in a slightly more teasing way, mocking and playful or flirty, but he’s also such a “honey” boyfriend it’s unreal, though. reserves “honey” for more intimate settings, soft spoken and with a sweet smile. your stevie also loves adding “my” in front of anything he calls you:

“my princess”

“my smiley/sweet girl”

“my silly girl”

“my little crybaby”

“my girl”

“my honey”

the two of you know just how to love each other perfectly, and you’re both so happy to have finally found your person. steve finally has the healthy, happy, committed relationship he’s always wanted and you finally found your person.

#fairy writes #steve harrington (harmo’s version) #boyfriend!steve harrington #lovesick!steve harrington #hopeless romantic!steve harrington #clingy!steve harrington #needy!steve harrington #steve harrington #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x shy!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve x you #steve x reader #steve harrington fluff #tooth-rotting fluff #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington thoughts

[infinite-orangepeel]

fluffy steddie + romcoms ahead….<3

steve is extremely embarrassed when robin accidentally spills the beans that he secretly LOVES rom coms in front of his long-time crush, eddie. but to his pleasant surprise, eddie doesn’t make fun of him or say a mean word about the sudden revelation. instead, he acts very nonchalant about the whole thing and unexpectedly shows up at steve’s house a few days later with a giant stack of the cheesiest, sappiest rom coms he owns. steve eyes the romantic titles that are piled in eddie’s arms and sighs knowingly, “you’ve got to be kidding me. i can’t believe robin betrayed me like this again ! i’m seriously going to have to give her a stern talking to.”eddie cocks an eyebrow at him in genuine confusion and adjusts the wobbly tower of movies, “what are you talking about ? i don’t understand. how did buckley betray you ?” steve groans in exasperation and stomps his foot, “isn’t it obvious ? first, she tells you how much i secretly love rom coms-which was mortifying by the way-and now, she went and told you which ones are my favorites, so you could show up out of the blue and make fun of me for it. hope you guys have a good laugh at my expense.” the night may have ended there if eddie wasn’t so determined to woo the boy of his dreams with their newfound commonality. so, as a flushed and disheartened steve goes to shut the door on him, eddie shoves a foot inside at the last second and stops him in his somber tracks, “wait, wait, wait. harrington, hold on. just hear me out—buckley had nothing to do with this and i’m not making fun of you in any way. you can trust me. i promise.” slowly and with grave hesitation, the door creaks back open and steve’s gaze softens, “you’re not ? then why’d you show up with all of those,” he points to the stack in eddie’s pale hands. a cheeky, but sincere grin erupts over eddie’s face as he prepares his proposal, “because these happen to be my favorites. you’re not the only one with a secret rom com obsession in this town, y’know ? figured we could spend the rest of the evening watching them together, whaddya say ?” (and if a few hours into their movie marathon, eddie mimics the couple onscreen and presses his lips to steve’s in a blissful first kiss—then, that’s their secret to tell)

#idk why but i feel like eddie would also find comfort in rom coms #same as steve #bc they’re both such hopeless romantics at heart imo #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fluff #steddie blurb #steddie imagine #steddie ficlet #steddie au #steddie brainrot #steddie fluff fic #soft steddie #steddie my beloved #for my steddie heart #fruity four #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #steddie headcanon

[terrorterror]

steddie + believing in love despite the end of the world

#robin buckley #maya hawke #steve harrington #joe keery #eddie munson #joseph quinn #stranger things #strangerthingsedit #stranger things spoilers #steddie #sorry for the corny ass caption. i am sensitive and made this for Me. #steve tells robin that he's holding out hope for love -- for HER. for her and vickie. for queer love on what could be doomsday. #and hours earlier..... #eddie stops steve in what is ostensibly hell JUST to tell him that true love is real #in my eyes eddie's just like... dude maybe i can't tell you that i love you but i must insist that you ARE loved #i am lying down thinking about these boys being hopeless romantics. thanks. #terror* #terror.exe

[alchemistc]

Steve doesn't get so much as a greeting as he opens the door on a shivering Eddie Munson - Eddie shoulders past Steve, down the cramped hallway. Steve slams the apartment door closed against the freezing wind, tailing Eddie's wet footprints as Eddie greets Robin with a stuttering series of clicks - she doesn't look up from the papers spread across the coffee table, but nods like she understood a word of it and isn't surprised that he's here, and Eddie traipses straight past and down the hall, slinking through Steve's bedroom door.

Steve hasn't seen Eddie in a year and a half. Hasn't spoken to him in six months, not since -

"What," Steve says, and Robin glances up at him, pen hanging out of her mouth, a battle Steve gave up on long before Dustin started mimicking the same fucking pattern Robin liked to tap out with a Bic against her front teeth. Her face goes through a series of expressions before settling on understanding. It's a sad, quiet little look and Steve-

"No. Uhuh, no, don't do -."

"Steve," Robin says in that quiet soft voice that's reserved for their infrequent genuine conversations, and look, it's not - Steve's not -

Nothing ever happened, is the thing. Six years post-Vecna and the closest he'd gotten past his bi-panic was brushing a curl off a sleeping, sick Eddie's clammy forehead, and sure, he'd definitely thought maybe Eddie returned some of those heart-squeezing, nauseating feelings that stirred in Steve's chest every time he was in the same room as Steve, and sure, he'd definitely treated Eddie leaving like a nasty breakup, sleeping his way through half the queer population of Indy in the eight months before he and Robin moved to Chicago, but -

read it on ao3

But nothing ever happened, and Steve was pretty sure he was over it, really, except six months after Steve picked a fight with Eddie over the phone because he was so goddamn tired of being sad all the time, Steve can hear Eddie Munson rifling through Steve's closet, muttering under his breath, and Robin is looking at him like she's fully aware Eddie Munson wasn't something Steve could just Get Over.

Would have been nice if she'd let him in on that fact.

"Do you want me to-?"

Yes, he thinks, but he shakes his head and unfurls his fist and follows the path to his room, finds Eddie digging through the top drawer of his wardrobe, a thermal already thrown over his shoulder and a pair of Steve's sweatpants held by his teeth as he rummages through Steve's underwear.

"Eddie, what the hell?"

Eddie startles, like he might have forgotten Steve was even there, which -

"Are you fucking high?"

"M'ot I, Fevem," Eddie says, and the hand already holding the lone pair of boxers Steve owns reaches up and snatches the sweats up, out of Eddie's mouth. "Just fucking freezing "

And - it's a legitimate question, a fair one, considering the cocktail he'd been on the time Dustin went to visit Eddie when the band had a show in Oregon and Dustin had called Steve to snitch.

"What the hell are you doing here, Eddie?"

Eddie's gaze cuts to Steve, and then away. But Steve sees it - the flash of hurt, the realization that he might not actually be welcome here. Which -

Eddie will always be welcome, is the thing, whether he's strung out or high in life or can barely speak because the nightmares have been bad again, but. But Steve hadn't even known he was in town.

"I'm -." Eddie says, and then shakes his head, clears his throat, turns away from Steve and starts shucking his jacket off (leather, no insulation, of course he's goddamn freezing), then reaches for the edge of a thin tee-shirt (wind chill projected at negative forty-five for a low, said the weatherman this morning while Steve poured his coffee) and whips that over his head too before Steve can formulate a single coherent thought.

If he were a better man, he'd turn away, give Eddie some privacy, but he's not a good man, and the tattoo spanning the length of Eddie's spine is new and inky black against the pale skin of his back. He looks thinner than Steve remembers him last. The scars are stark on his sides against the pale light drifting in from the window.

Steve listens to the sounds of fumbling fingers against a belt clasp, hears Eddie swear under his breath, and is halfway across the space between them before he can think about moving his feet. Eddie hears him, spins with wide eyes, and Steve doesn't bother to respond to the question in his eyes, just bats Eddie's hands away and goes to work unbuckling the belt, popping the top button of the worn ripped jeans (they're wet, why are they fucking wet, it's too fucking cold for his jeans to have gotten wet in the snow unless he'd rolled himself into a drift and then wandered long enough for his body heat to melt the snow).

Eddie swallows, and because his hands are shaking and he's not wearing fucking gloves and Steve can see the tips of fingers purpling, Steve tries not to think too hard about it when he kneels and pulls at the waist of the jeans, the boxers too because it's a waste of fucking time to be weird about it and Eddie is still shivering - only realizes his mistake when he carefully drops his eyes to the floor and realizes Eddie hadn't taken his shoes off, yet.

His fingers curl around Eddie's bare ankle, just above the pool of jeans and underwear and Eddie makes a noise, a high strained whine that Steve doesn't have time to think about because Eddie's skin feels clammy and a full-bodied shiver wrack his frame.

"Jesus, just -." Steve says and turns, manages to snag the blanket off the end of his bed without incident, swings back and wraps the blanket around Eddie's shoulders. Eddie's fingers curl over the edges and hold it tight across his chest. "Sit down," Steve tells him, and Eddie swallows, shuffles the two and a half feet to the bed, plops his ass down and stares at Steve.

Steve drops his gaze, kneels again to start working on the soaked tangle of Eddie's shoelaces, and his fingers aren't frozen but they are trembling, a bit, so it takes longer than it should, long enough for the silence in the room to become unbearable, long enough for Steve's brain to catch up on everything that's just happened.

"Eddie, what's going on?"

"Do you have anything to drink?" Eddie asks, and Steve sort of wants to punch a hole in the wall.

"Fuck you, Eddie," he says, and Eddie sighs.

"I wasn't going to come, just -."

And, yep, that stings, catches him right in the chest like a boot straight to his heart. They'd said things, on that phone call. Things he regrets, things that were true and untrue and -

"What's that?" Eddie asks, his gaze fixed on the hat box laid out on Steve's desk across the room, which of course, of fucking course, is open because he's a maudlin fucking fool and he'd been thinking about Eddie earlier tonight, had spent a good twenty minutes holding the threadbare Metallica tee up to his nose like any trace of Eddie might still linger on it.

Steve ignores the question. Finishes unlacing the first shoe and moves on to the second, annoyed and endeared in measures by the way Eddie immediately starts shaking the leg Steve just finished with.

"I can call a cab," Eddie tells him, and Steve scoffs, rolls his eyes up to meet Eddie's.

"Shut up, Eddie." Eddie's shoulders ease from their position hiked up around his ears. The light coming in through the window falls in silvery lines over Eddie's hair.

---

Once he's got both of Eddie's shoes off he bounds to his feet and walks out of his room without a word. Rounds the corner and blows out a breath and tries not to worry too much that Robin is right there across the room, watching him.

"Is...?" But it's not like she has any more context than he does, so the question fizzles out and she sighs.

"I'm gonna make tea. You want tea?"

Robin nods, concern etched into her face, and Steve loves her, he does, she's the most important person in the entire world and he loves her but he can't.

The kettle boils and the tea stews and Robin's papers shuffle in the living room and Steve can hear his own screams echoing inside his mind.

---

It went like this:

Two years ago Steve paused midway through laughing at some dumb joke Eddie had just made and realized. It wasn't some big grand thing - just Eddie and Steve and Robin curled around a coffee table, cards left discarded and a handle of cheap whiskey half emptied between them, Eddie's hands still in the air as he finished up a gesture and Robin snorting with laughter so hard Pepsi flew out her nose, which just set them all off harder, and Steve's knee flopping against Eddie's thigh suddenly burned with the knowledge.

Easy, simple - Steve loved Eddie and not at all in the way Steve loved Robin and it should have been as easy as that, easy as anything - in the moment he could have curled a hand around Eddie's jaw and pressed a kiss to his chin (they were fucking drunk, his aim definitely would have been off) only he'd figured he had time, and later that night Eddie curled the bottle cap of a Heineken into Steve's hand and blinked at him when Steve pocketed the thing like a prized gift and tucked Eddie more firmly into the blanket draped across him on the couch, and Steve stumbled off to his own room because he had time, and -

---

Eddie's dressed when Steve shoulders his door open again, blanket draped across his shoulders, legs rucked up against his chest, sitting at Steve's desk and picking through the contents of the hatbox Robin has given him the first time he'd resolved himself to getting the fuck over it.

The bottle cap, Steve knows, had been buried deep in the box, so -

So there's that.

Steve places a steaming mug in front of Eddie and surveys the damage - the Metallica shirt is draped over Eddie's knees, and the rocks have all been lined up in a neat little row on top of Eddie's copy of Good Omens (Steve's read it through maybe four times and he still doesn't really get it but he thinks maybe that's sort of why he likes it) and the pig ring backed with tape is rucked over the knuckle of Eddies middle finger. Nothing in there is worth a damn, most of it is incomprehensible shit that anyone else would consider garbage, but back when Eddie was a new addition to the group and Steve was sure that meant something, he'd always saved all the random crap Eddie tucked into Steve's hands with wide grinning eyes.

In the light from the lamp over the desk, Steve can finally see that Eddie's got a cut on his lip, a bruise forming on his neck, a lump on his forehead like maybe he'd - what, headbutted someone?

"I didn't even want you to know I was here," Eddie tells him, and flips the bottle cap between his fingers like a coin, like the start of one of those stupid magic tricks that always ended with Eddie pulling some random crap from behind Steve's ear and Steve rolling his eyes and shoving halfheartedly at Eddie's shoulder. "We had - there was a show, and - there was a guy, so -."

There's that kick again, and Steve's never been around horses before but he thinks that might feel more like a horse hoof to the chest than just a human with a steel toed boot.

"He do that to you?" Steve asks, with a nod at the hand shaped bruise around Eddie's neck.

Eddie blinks, swallows, presses his chin to his knees. "Think he tried to roofie me," Eddie tells Steve, and Steve feels that old stirring, that protectiveness, is halfway to plotting some sort of recon mission to track this guy down and lose a fight in spectacular fashion to him in defense of Eddie's honor. "Only I'm sober, and I didn't drink it, and he didn't -."

"You're sober?" Steve asks, nonsensically, because he hadn't even been around for most of the worst parts. And then, "Did he -?"

"No," Eddie says, and a tight knit unfurls in Steve's chest because besides the emotional damage if the guy had, there was always a chance for something even worse, if - if.

Steve sort of went dry on sex after the last time he'd been tested, and maybe it was because he'd been tired of all the meaningless shit or maybe it was because the condom had ripped and he'd been so goddamn fucking scared or maybe it was just because Steve had said those things to Eddie on the phone and then hadn't heard from Eddie again and he was pretty sure he'd never find anyone he loved the way he loved Eddie and it'd all seemed pretty pointless once he realized how firmly he'd shut that door.

Except Eddie is here, wearing Steve's clothes, digging through Steve's Eddie box, curled up in Steve's softest blanket, looking beautiful in the warm lamplight, and he hadn't meant to be here at all but he is.

"Why'd you keep all this crap?" Eddie asks, and Steve scoots across the edge of his desk, presses his thigh to Eddie's knee, hopes it eases some of the cold.

"Because you gave it to me, idiot."

"Oh," Eddie says, and the hand hidden under the blanket darts out to curl around Steve's wrist. His hands are freezing.

---

It goes like this:

Eddie is sober, and Steve is tired, and one night over the phone, after another show in another city, Eddie tells Steve he loves him, moves on without pause to a story about the girl who'd thrown a lacy thong that landed on Gareth's cymbal and Gareth had nearly stopped the show because instead of being amused he was fucking livid because it nearly messed up the song. It's an unremarkable moment, an unremarkable night, an unremarkable story, and Steve is drinking a Snapple in bed while Eddie talks.

Two weeks later Eddie scrambles into the apartment, kicks his duffle under Steve's bed, and folds Steve's fingers around the pressed coin he'd found on the street on his walk from the bus station, and Steve presses up from his desk to kiss Eddie.

It goes like this:

They still argue and fight, and over the span of six months they give as many apologies as Eddie gives Steve random cool shit he finds, and the apologies rest in their bones but the rocks and trinkets go in the box once Steve's displayed them on his bedside table long enough to memorize the shape of them, and the look in Eddie's eyes each time he passed them off.

It goes like this:

Steve loves hard, Steve loves in an overbearing way, but Eddie doesn't mind, Eddie basks in it, actually, because he loves attention and he loves being cared for and he loves Steve, like, an embarrassing amount.

It goes like this:

Eddie tumbles into their home decades later - his bounce is less exuberant than it used to be but his smile still crinkles at the corners of his eyes and when he holds out his hand for Steve to take whatever it is he's found, and Steve indulges it, let's it plop into his fist without looking so he can snag Eddie's belt loop and drag him in for a kiss only Eddie squawks and dances away and refuses to touch him until Steve unfurls his fist and stares down at the gold band in his hand.

"Did you find this in a gutter?" Steve asks, just to be contrary, and Eddie kicks his shin and then twirls him under his arm when Steve slips it on his finger, holds his left hand up and presses their palms together so that Steve can feel the skin-warmth of the silver band Eddie's wearing on his own ring finger. "And they say romance is dead."

#steddie fic #idk why this was so angsty i didn't actually i tend for it to be until i started writing #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie pebbling steve #steve keeping every rock coin and shiny bauble because hes a hopeless fucking romantic #once again a stupid drabble turned into full on fic

[raggedyoldwitch]

not to sound like a bitch or something, but i need more fluff and angst with characters!!!! i kinda hate when i see mostly smut, like i have no problem with it. I JUST WANT MORE FLUFF AND ANGST PLEASE IM NOT SUPER HORNY LIKE EVERYONE ELSE I JUST WANT CUTE BUTTERFLY MOMENTS AND TEARS DOWN MY FACE!!!!!

#steve harrington imagine #jake sully imagine #avatar imagine #peter parker x reader #i’m a hopeless romantics so i just either want to be in pain or love