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nburkhardt · 5 months

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Here is an angsty thing with a happy ending! (Please note: this takes place BEFORE seasons 3 & 4 but after demodogs.)

Pray for the Ground to Swallow Me Whole

He’ll eventually thank her for the domino effect she caused. It’ll be the best thing to happen to him, even if it meant leaving town very premature.

But for now, his heart hurts and his eyes are burning from holding the tears back. For now he’ll stand here and listen to words that’ll haunt him, to faintly be reminded of times when he was an ignorant asshole that only cared about himself and didn’t bother thinking of his actions.

Truthfully, he sorta thought this would happen.

The only ones who actually actively engaged with him was the kids, especially Dustin and Lucas. But if he was being truly honest with himself, a nasty voice in the back of his head always told him they just liked him because he saved them. He tried not letting that get to him.

Currently though? That nasty voice is whispering and it’s not just a voice in his head anymore.

The voice just sounds a lot like Joyce Byers.

“- you did help him and I’ll always be grateful for that. Honestly. But I also remember him coming home from school and telling me about this kid, this jerk who laughed and poked fun at him,” Joyce stops to take a breather, crossing her arms and looking disappointed as if he wasn’t already used to that kind of look, “It actually makes me very uncomfortable to have you around, you have to understand that?”

He choked down a defense and sob, blinked hard before looking away with a nod. Listening to this for the last twenty minutes has broken him down faster than Nancy calling him “bullshit”.

“Yes, Mrs. Byers, I’ll-I’ll leave your family alone”

She nodded, “I’d appreciate that, Steve. But I’m not just talking about my family”

He’s hit with ice and dread. Freezes up and looks back at her, “wha-what do you mean? I’m sorry, I’m confused”

“I don’t think it’s really appropriate for you to be around Will and his friends. With my knowledge of what Jon told me about you and the fact you are five years older than them. It would make a lot of their parents uncomfortable too. Don’t you know that?” She’s speaking softly now, like she’s talking to a scared animal.

And maybe she is, he feels like it.

He shakes his head, not to her though. To himself, shaking the memories of hang outs with the Henderson family. Memories of Claudia Henderson making extra food- “just in case, dear! You can even have leftovers for tomorrow!” And Dustin biking over just to tell him about the newest movie he wants to see- “we absolutely have to go, Steve! It’s gonna be a classic, trust me!”

The memory of Claudia hugging him close, telling him “such a blessing, sweetie! You’ll always be welcomed here” that still makes him cry late at night in his empty quiet home.

He avoids looking at Joyce, trying to figure out a way to get away.

“I- uh, I gotta, if you’ll excuse me” he mumbles and doesn’t smile or even look directly at her. Just moves around her to leave, as he walks out and overhears the excited voices calling for him, he ignores them and keeps his head down to avoid showing them how red his cheeks are in embarrassment and how much he’s holding back tears.

Without saying goodbye, he gets into his car and drives.

He doesn’t know how long he drives, doesn’t know where he’s going. Just driving to get away, to avoid listening to Joyce’s words that are already taunting him in his head. Slowly mixing in with “you’re bullshit” and “run away, Steve, always running away!” and all the disappointed sighs and taunts from his father.

The car picks the location for him, gas running low and he’s forced to stop at Lovers Lake. Pulling to a stop and turning his car off, he sits in silence. Staring ahead at the lake, eyes still burning.

It’s a long time as he just sits there. In silence.

Rubbing his eyes to get the tears to go away, there’s no reason to cry. She is right, he was an asshole and it is inappropriate for a eighteen year old to hang around thirteen year olds.

Even more inappropriate to hang around a house where he isn’t welcomed.

He rests his head against the steering wheel, arms around it and his knuckles turning white from how hard his gripping the wheel. His eyes burn and he laughs a bitter sound, lightly hitting his head against the wheel. “Fucking, knock it off, get yourself together” he mumbles and it’s weak, he chokes back another sob as he squeezes his eyes shut.

There’s a knock on his window that makes him flinch hard, eyes are wide and he’s immediately aware of how fucking stupid he was to let his guard down like that. Looking next to him he flinches again, not because he’s scared but because of who’s standing there.

Of all the people to find him right now, during probably his lowest point ever, is the local drug dealer. The twice senior and King of the Freaks, Eddie Munson.

“Hey man, uh, you okay?”

Shaking his head, he rests it back on his headrest taking a breath before rolling the window down. Munson takes a step back, he only knows because of the chains hanging from the guy’s pants.

“All good, Munson” he lies straight through his teeth, he doesn’t need to see how red his face is with how warm it feels. And his hands actually hurt now from how hard he was gripping the wheel, “i didn’t- uh, see anything.”

Since he’s leaning his head back on the headrest with eyes closed, he doesn’t see how Munson reacts. The only noise is just nature, birds chirping and the wind hitting leaves. He doesn’t even hear Munson moving, so opening his eyes he looks over and finds the guy standing there with an odd look on his face.

“Look, I’ll just- fuck,” he knocks his head back before rolling the window up and turning his car off, climbing out and avoiding looking directly at the guy. “I’m gonna just go”

Doesn’t bother waiting for something back, it’s been long enough in his own pity party. Now, he just needs to walk home and figure out how he’ll go about life without seeing the Henderson family and the rest of the kids.

“Are you walking? What the fuck, just leaving your car here?” Munson shouts out at him.

He glances back at his car then at Munson, slowing to a stop. “Why do you care?”

It doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, why would this guy care whether he leaves his car here? It’s only Hawkins, no one is going to steal his car. You’re more likely gonna come across a monster around than a stolen car.

Especially not at Lover’s Lake. Also why care about him? He’s an asshole and everything Munson hates and loudly announces at lunch.

He shakes his head and starts walking again, taking the silence that Munson doesn’t actually care about him. It doesn’t hurt to admit another person doesn’t like him, he honestly would be shocked if someone did like him.

What really hurts is the fake worry, the questioning, the fake concern and the curiosity.

He’s going to continue to walk home that’ll take him a few hours and will only make it back by dark. Without a weapon, without the bat to hold, because he left that in his car and Munson is still here. Can’t let him ask anymore questions.

“-sus Christ! Jesus, slow the fuck down Harrington!” Munson sounds out of breath, a lot closer too.

He flinches when a hand lands on his arm, “What? What do you want?” He turns and shakes the hand off, “if someone steals it, whatever. It- it doesn’t matter.”

Munson squints at him, looking confused, “Dude, wait, why are you crying?”

Touching his face, he laughs and it sounds so wrong. He is crying, didn’t even realize it was happening. Shaking his head, he turns around and doesn’t bother answering.

“Come on, Harrington!” Munson grabs hold of his shoulder and his grip is rough, “look, I’m sorry if you want to be alone but fuck, dude, you look like shit and crying alone is the worst. So, why don’t I give you a ride to whoe-“

Shaking his head, “like I have anyone to run to right now”

There’s a flash of Claudia and Dustin Henderson in his head and he wants, thinks that they’d shake him and hug him tight if they knew what was said and how it’s haunting him already. Won’t go away, it just brings more tears.

Munson’s silent and his hand drops, leaving behind a faint pressure and that hurts too.

“God, I’m so pathetic right now.”

“Nah, just lonely it seems”

His eyes snap to Munson and his hands are shoved into his jacket, kicking his foot before looking back at him, “I won’t judge, seriously. Let me help, even if it’s just to give you a ride”

“Just a ride?”

Munson nods, “just a ride, unless you change your mind”

He nods, taking a deep breath before stepping towards Munson, “okay, you can, um. Take me home?”

A smile spreads across Munson’s face and he takes his hands out to swing them towards where his van most likely is, “your chariot awaits, good sir!”

Despite his mood and how this might possibly be one of the worst days of his life, he cracks a tiny smile. Just enough to squeeze at his heart, actually.

Walking along side Munson is quiet, it’s a little peaceful. If he remembers correctly, Munson was never this quiet before. Always talking or laughing or yelling, he’s loud and sometimes overly obnoxious.

This is nice. Actually really nice, this quiet with him.

They make it to the van and the ride isn’t the same quiet but it’s still there. He can feel it deep in his bones now.

That this, right here, is peaceful.

Hello! This whole thing originally started back in May and I lost a little interest in this particular WIP, so I stopped and it’s been in my drafts since. Then I kept getting writers block, still have it tbh. But I read it back today and decided I can technically turn this into a two part fic instead of a one shot soo, it’s finally being shared!

I want to be clear that it’s an AU from after the demodogs and everything after that won’t be the same. And that I have nothing against Joyce but I thought “what if it was someone else than made Steve leave/didn’t like Steve?” guess who I picked 😇 plus we have enough Hopper & Joyce adopt Steve fics, we need a little more of them not doing that. Also!! There should be more fics of them being wrong, that they’re being judgmental and need consequences for their words & actions.

Anyway! I’m automatically assuming only a few people will read this far into my rambling. And if you did I love you, you get a platonic forehead kiss ☺️

Permanent Taglist: @spectrum-spectre @itsfreakingbats @mysticcrownshipper @artiststarme @thereindeerlady @justforthedead89 @ronniescontinuum @freyaforestafay @littlewildflowerkitten @gregre369 @zerokrox-blog @flustratedcas @carlprocastinator1000 @marvelmwah @solliesolesito @navnae @i-less-than-three-you @grimmfitzz @estrellami-1 @cartercaptainofthemoon @strangersteddierthings

#steve harrington #eddie munson #joyce byers #stranger things #pre steddie #steve needs a hug #fic #nburkhardt writes #steve harrington fic #angst #hurt and no comfort #sorry but it’s just not there rn #eventually this boy will get it #and trust there WILL be steddie #maybe I’ll write the second part in Claudia’s pov 🤔#pray for the ground to shallow me whole

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pancakecoffee · 8 months

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Ted was supposed to propose to Rebecca by spelling out “marry me?” on the pitch. It breaks my heart that we will never ever get this.

#ted lasso #tedbecca #hurt and no comfort #ted was supposed to propose this way #we were robbed

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iamthecomet · 1 year

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Challenge!!! Evil this time. Special was Terzo's lover when he was alive. When Terzo died Special continued helping out the band. He can't help but see his old lover in the new innocent Cardinal and uses him to fill a void.

@plasma-ghoull and I both have written version of his exact same prompt just for funsies. Please go read theirs too <3 <3

He should feel guilty. He's aware of it. Knows that every late-night trip through the dark abbey halls is done for the wrong reasons. Terzo's ghost follows him every step of the way. Follows him everywhere. To morning and midnight masses. To dinner. To bed. It stands in the shadows and watches him. He will never be free from him. The only time he doesn't feel like he's being stalked by his past, by what he's lost, is when he's in Copia's room. He doesn't know why that is. That would involve taking hold of his grief and really looking at it. And he can't do that. Isn't even willing to try no matter how many times the other ghouls tell him to. Aether keeps trying to pull him aside and tell him that he just needs to talk to someone. Talking will help. The idea of talking about it makes Special feel like he's turning himself inside out. So, instead, he pads down the hallways in the middle of the night and slips into Copia's room. The cardinal is almost always awake. He's high-strung, panicked. He doesn't look like he's had a good night's sleep in his life. But when Special's done with him they both sleep. So, he feels like maybe he's doing the cardinal a favor. They're each getting something out of it. Special is cramming the cardinal into the Terzo-shaped hole in his heart, and Copia finally gets some rest. It's fine. Good. Mutually beneficial. So what if sometimes when Copia is on his knees in front of him, Special almost forgets he isn't Terzo. It doesn't matter. If he closes his eyes and just listens to the sounds Copia makes, it's almost like Terzo has come back to him. It isn't always that easy. Copia doesn't feel like Terzo. His body is different. More pudge around his hips, his belly, his thighs. He smells different too. But under the uniqueness of scent, all Humans smell like Humans. He clings to that. Latches on to whatever he can. It isn't enough, not really. Copia isn't Terzo. Terzo exuded confidence. He told Special what he wanted, told him where to go. How to move. He was sure, always, even in situations where he shouldn't have been. Copia is so much more pliant. Accepting. He acts like he doesn't know what he likes, tells Special to show him. Asks for pleasure in broad terms instead of specific instructions. Copia is unsure, shakey, reverent in a way that Terzo did not allow himself to be. So when Copia looks at him like he's the only star in the sky. Special balks, hard. It's like a slap to the face. They're laying side by side in Copia's bed. Special's heart still hammering. Copia looks over at him and heaves a dreamy sigh that makes every muscle in Special's body go taught.

Oh fuck. Copia reaches for him, he rests his hand against Special's damp neck, cups his jaw against the length of his forefinger, his chin nestled into the space between it and his thumb. Copia's hands are soft, delicate. Special is hit with a wave of nausea. His stomach rolling over itself when it all suddenly crashes into him. Copia is not Terzo. He's nothing like Terzo. He's innocent and breakable, and about to be ground to dust under the weight of what Special has done to him all these months. Because Copia is looking at him like he's about to confess something. And if Special doesn't get out right now he's going to puke all over Copia's expensive sheets.

He pushes away, more forcefully than he should, wrenching his head out of Copia's grasp and practically throwing himself off the bed. Stumbling as he catches himself. He grabs his clothes off the floor, he starts dressing like the room is on fire. Copia sits up, watching the ghoul fumble with his uniform pants. "What's going on, Caro?" "I have to go."

Copia tips his head. It's the middle of the night. Special never leaves. Special knows he doesn't have an explanation for what he's doing, he will fumble if Copia asks for an excuse.

But he doesn't, and maybe that's worse. "Oh," Copia's voice goes quiet. He drags his eyes away from Special as the ghoul finds his mask and fits it back over his face. Blocking them off from each other. "I see."

"It's fine. I just--I need--"

"Just go," Copia waves him off. "I know I'm not him. I was foolish to hope maybe I could be better." The words send a flash of agony through Special. It almost doubles him over. This realization. This sudden understanding that Copia knew, somehow, what all of this was really about. That he'd hoped that maybe Special would come around. That he could really make him forget Terzo, replace him in every way. Special finishes dressing in silence, avoiding Copia's gaze when it darts to him.

He walks toward the door, he waits for Copia to say something, anything. But when he looks back Copia is just looking at him, his face drawn, torn. He looks his age like this. Special spares him one last glance before he opens the door. He shouldn't say the words grating at his tongue, but he does anyway. He can't help it. "It's not your fault. No one will ever be better than him."

#comet writes #plasma #ficlet #request #special x copia #special ghoul #special/copia #copia/special #terzo/special #special/terzo #angst #hurt and no comfort #ghost fic #cardinal copia #ghost fan fiction #the band ghost fan fiction #ghost fan fic #unedited

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asterin-kelles · 5 months

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Writing James Potter: Creating the softest, fluffiest universe for him to be surrounded by his friends and family and his biggest, most difficult decision is how could he decide on choosing to be with Remus or with Sirius and then going “¿Por qué no los dos?”

Writing Harry Potter: Crushing him into a universe with so much devastating angst that he turns into a diamond. Then, and only then, to reward him with the smallest modicum of comfort only to smack him with another brick wall of angst.

#there are two wolves inside me #james potter #harry potter #omegaverse #hurt and no comfort #intrusive writing thoughts #fanfic authors #writing #writing fanfic

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joeytribbiani18 · 1 year

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I just posted another chapter of my angsty dps fanfiction (there are now 7 chapters posted, and overall 4 fanfics - 3 in progress), so feel free to read it and tell me what you think!

I warn you, it's sad and I loved every minute of writing it (even tho I was crying on the inside myself)

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greykolla-art · 2 months

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My blog has become infested with angst goblins, and they must be fed with some hypothetical scenarios!🙏💚

#grey art #fan art #hazbin hotel fanart #hazbin hotel #Hazbin hotel comic #JESUS WEPT THIS FUCKING THING WAS A BEAST #BUT I LOVE IT!#hazbin charlie #hazbin alastor #Alastor #charlie morningstar #angst #hurt/comfort #whump art #I know what you people are I’m one of you!#I heard your cries for more angst and I aim to please!#also good excuse to use clip studio more #I only bust that out for something special #now let’s do something else! like eat!

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flimythings · 1 month

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"you cant heal if you pretend you're not hurt"

-filmythings

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candaru · 6 months

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no no. you don't get it. the reason I injure my blorbos until they can't walk is because that's the only way they'll ever let someone else carry them. the reason I curse them to be sick and feverish is so that they'll finally open up about their emotions while delirious. the reason I force them to overexert themselves to the point of exhaustion is so that when they pass out they can finally rest.

I'm doing this for their own good.

#angst #whump #writeblr #hurt/comfort #does anybody hear me. hello #it's about forcibly stripping a character of the pride that keeps them from letting themselves be human

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cronchy-baguette · 2 months

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When all this is over, will you stay with me? For good?

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #laezel #shadowheart #lae’zel #shadowzel #more like shartzel #when im telling you they were meant for each other #what do you mean theyre both loyal followers to their god-queens who eventually forsake them and force them to become their own people #what do you mean they both crave the recognition and validation of their overseers but will never get it #the hurt/comfort of this ship is unreal yall #crying screaming sobbing

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maccreadysbaby · 10 months

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Some of my favorite words and phrases to describe a character in pain

coiling (up in a ball, in on themselves, against something, etc)

panting (there’s a slew of adjectives you can put after this, my favorites are shakily, weakly, etc)

keeling over (synonyms are words like collapsing, which is equally as good but overused in media)

trembling/shivering (additional adjectives could be violently, uncontrollably, etc)

sobbing (weeping is a synonym but i’ve never liked that word. also love using sob by itself, as a noun, like “he let out a quiet sob”)

whimpering (love hitting the wips with this word when a character is weak, especially when the pain is subsiding. also love using it for nightmares/attacks and things like that)

clinging (to someone or something, maybe even to themselves or their own clothes)

writhing/thrashing (maybe someone’s holding them down, or maybe they’re in bed alone)

crying (not actual tears. cry as in a shrill, sudden shout)

dazed (usually after the pain has subsided, or when adrenaline is still flowing)

wincing (probably overused but i love this word. synonym could be grimacing)

doubling-over (kinda close to keeling over but they don’t actually hit the ground, just kinda fold in on themselves)

heaving (i like to use it for describing the way someone’s breathing, ex. “heaving breaths” but can also be used for the nasty stuff like dry heaving or vomiting)

gasping/sucking/drawing in a breath (or any other words and phrases that mean a sharp intake of breath, that shite is gold)

murmuring/muttering/whispering (or other quiet forms of speaking after enduring intense pain)

hiccuping/spluttering/sniffling (words that generally imply crying without saying crying. the word crying is used so much it kinda loses its appeal, that’s why i like to mix other words like these in)

stuttering (or other general terms that show an impaired ability to speak — when someone’s in intense pain, it gets hard to talk)

staggering/stumbling (there is a difference between pain that makes you not want to stand, and pain that makes it impossible to stand. explore that!)

recoiling/shrinking away (from either the threat or someone trying to help)

pleading/begging (again, to the threat, someone trying to help, or just begging the pain to stop)

Feel free to add your favorites or most used in the comments/reblogs!

#fanfiction writer #writing angst #creative writing #writers #writing #hurt/comfort #writing tips

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certifiedcodbabygirl · 3 months

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I need Simon Riley who realizes just how much he loves you when he has a night terror.

He shoots out of bed with a shout, quickly looking to your side just to see it empty. His heart quickens even faster, images of your dead body, blood pouring out of your mouth and ears, eyes frantic before they still and glaze over. Remembering the scream he lets out as he shakes you, begging you.

"Please, please don't fuckin leave, love. God, not you. Please, you promised!"

He's having a panic attack and before he even processes it, he's running to the bathroom. Throwing him head into the toilet bowl, puking everything up as if his entire body is rejecting the very possibility of you no longer being there. He can't stop the tears ripping out of him and his fast, suffocating breaths stinging his throat as if the vomit isn't even there.

He doesn't even register your hand on his back, your panicked calling out to him.

"Baby? Baby what's wrong? Please talk to me" You beg, brushing his hair back, trying to hold onto him.

His wide, tear filled eyes meet yours and he throws himself into your arms, holding onto you like a lifeline. His crying doesn't stop, the intense emotions still overwhelming his senses.

"God please never leave me. I swear to god I'll be the best for you. I'll keep you safe, nothin's gonna happen to you" He swear as if he'd be your own guardian angel.

"Baby what happened? Did you have a nightmare?" You pet his hair, beginning to realize what's happening.

"I can't lose you, I can't. Not you. Please, I can't." He cries into your shirt, trying to calm down but he feels genuine fear that he doesn't feel outside the battlefield. You hold him as his breathing slows down, exhaustion overtaking him. You settle against the wall, fingers combing through his hair as you both fall asleep. Safe to say he doesn't have anymore nightmares that night.

(Friendly reminder that traumatized men aren't always fully numb and military men can have feelings !!)

#call of duty modern warfare #cod x reader #ghost cod #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost simon riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #Simon riley x reader hurt/comfort #simon riley x reader fluff #ghost call of duty #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley

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nburkhardt · 11 months

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Love is…..

An angst feast 🥳

The idea of someone loving every bit of you is a dream, the feelings you get from someone’s smile aimed at you makes you fearless. Seeing their happiness, it can make your heart melt and you‘re happy just because they’re happy.

Love is something so powerful, so beautiful, so strong.

It’s something not to play with.

1984

“This is bullshit! You’re bullshit!” Nancy’s voice is slurred, she’s swaying slightly and her face is red. Eyes not focusing properly, drunk and angry.

Steve freezes, arm raised up to clean her shirt. “What?”

“Bullshit” Nancy repeats herself and sways again, dangerously close to falling. She’s not even looking at him now, just staring ahead with unfocused eyes and anger coming off her in waves.

He doesn’t know what to do, he’s frozen in his spot. The silence of the room with muffled music coming from the rest of the house is suddenly too quiet, he looks at her in disbelief. Unsure how to take this, hurt and confused. She mumbles about Barb, mumbles something with his name again and repeats bullshit over and over.

His original plan was gone, spilled out of a cup with juice and alcohol. Being a normal teenager isn’t a possibility now, his ears are buzzing and he feels numb. The words repeat in his head, it’s the only thing he can hear as he rushes out of the bathroom and then the house. It takes too long, too many people are around.

He needs out of this house, needs to be alone.

He doesn’t bother with his car, just walks home. The cold air hitting him, he uses that as an excuse to let the tears fall. It shouldn’t hurt, she was drunk and he did play a part in Barb’s death. He knows this, it keeps him up at night, it’s why his pool is drained and covered. Calling their love, his love bullshit? It hurts even though she was just drunk.

There’s a whisper in his ear, sounding too much like his mom: “drunk words are sober thoughts”

Getting to his empty house, doesn’t help his already overwhelmed head. He doesn’t bother with lights or kicking off his shoes, just go straight to his room and curls into a ball on his bed. Letting the breakdown he held back, work its way out. He’s finally alone, he can break. He falls asleep with tears falling, a heart breaking while curled in a ball.

Nancy thinks it nothing, that they’re okay.

He asks her to say “I love you” and she doesn’t, looks like she physically can’t say those words. And that’s it. No more relationship.

Maybe it wasn’t supposed to last, maybe they weren’t good together. Maybe if Barb hadn’t died or the upside down wasn’t around, they could’ve made it further.

All Steve knows is, he was in love with her. Maybe even still is in love with her. Love everything about her, from how smart she is down to her pretty blue eyes. He was ready to stop the world for her. Now he knows she didn’t feel the same, he wants to believe she did at one point. Just, not anymore.

The rest of his senior year is spent with his head down, alone and staying far away from Nancy Wheeler.

1986

Making it to nineteen years old is a miracle.

Spending his last few birthdays alone is embarrassing, but no one knows it and at this point he wants to keep it that way. It’s only been two years, but he’s realized how much it hurts to let people in only for them to break his heart.

Whether it be romantic or platonic love.

After the Russian drugs and actual torture together, he and Robin are closer than ever. Even if she didn’t mean to, she solidified his opinion on himself and relationships. That they aren’t for him. The people he’s fallen for just keep breaking his heart and his heart has so much love to give.

Maybe too much love.

He spends the first two months of the new year having quick fun dates to get laid and that’s it. Even with his heart screaming at him to find someone to love, he can’t bring himself to let anyone in.

He’s not completely happy, but he’s okay. At least, that’s what he’s telling himself.

March rolls around, the start of the month is easy. No upside down surprises and only the kids asking for rides a few times. Then spring break rolls around suddenly things aren’t okay anymore.

One second he’s watching the news about a murder then the next time he blinks, he’s being pinned to the wall of a boat house. He’ll be honest, the whole trip to the upside down he blacked out. Defeating Vecna and making it back top side is too blurry, happened too fast.

Everyone is alive, they all made it out.

He doesn’t know how but they are and he’s so goddamn thankful for it. Didn’t want to lose anyone else, even Eddie Munson who he didn’t even care about not even a full week ago.

But he has a bleeding heart, a need to love more and having one more friend is fair game. Even if that friend only tolerates him and probably doesn’t consider him a friend and that’s okay, he knows the rules now.

He can put his everything into friendships and doesn’t expect the same in return. He’s not greedy, he’ll take what he can get.

Apparently his heart on the other hand, doesn’t know the rules. Because four months later, it hits him.

It’s like a punch to the gut, the realization. One second it wasn’t there and the next he’s frozen with his heart beating out of his chest. He can’t breathe, his mind racing with all the thoughts of this realization.

It races as he tries to think, how did he miss this? How did he not know? How did he fall in love again? He wasn’t trying to, he was fine.

Things were fine.

His friendship with Eddie Munson was enough. He was happy with the hang outs, trading joints, eating pizza and poking fun at the kids. He knows on his part that they’re friends, knows that he’s not even in Eddie’s close circle of friends.

They’re just trauma-bonded friends.

It wasn’t never said out loud, but it was there. He knows that.

Yet.

Yet, here he is. Sitting on the floor of Eddie’s room, swapping stories and enjoying a few joints together. Listening to Eddie laugh about something Jeff did during their last band practice, and it’s then. That’s it.

The sound of Eddie’s happiness.

That’s the realization and he can’t breathe.

“Man, I’m telling you that guy is amazing” Eddie huffs another laugh, a smile spreading on his face then a shake of his head, “if he was single, I’d so grabbed him up. He’d be everything”

Steve’s ears are burning, his heart is breaking and he only just realized his own feelings and they’re already breaking.

Swallowing down the heartbreak, he huffs out a laugh and goes, “yeah? Jeff- uh, Jeff’s the one for you?”

“Well yeah, he’s been my best friend forever! He’s hot, smart and likes metal? The whole package that one” Eddie’s smiling and looking up at his ceiling, “He was the first person I told that i like men, then it was this giant crying feast. It was so nice to finally have a person, someone who understood me, ya know?”

It’s slow but he nods, his heart beating out of his chest, something in the back of his head is screaming at him to leave. “Yeah- yeah, that’s amazing!”

It sounds fake to his own ears, but it seems Eddie’s just high enough to not notice a difference. It’s quiet now, the only sounds coming from outside.

Eddie’s smiling and smoking his joint, content and happy.

Forcing a smile, he continues sitting in the silence with his heart breaking and his brain screaming at him to run away, get far enough away to lock the his heart away.

To break down in peace, alone.

Eventually the high really hits and he falls asleep to the sound of Eddie humming and laughing, it’s lovely, it’s his favorite sound. It’s heartbreaking, it’s the worst thing to fall asleep to.

It brings dreams of hope. Of Eddie smiling at him, saying he loves him and he wakes up after a dream of Eddie throwing his arms around him and going in for a kiss.

He’s panicking and he’s tearing up. Looking at Eddie, sound asleep on his bed, he forces himself to swallow back a sob before walking out to finally have that breakdown.

Before he can even make it out of the trailer, he freezes as he’s met with Eddie’s Uncle Wayne sitting at the little table nursing a cup of coffee. “Mornin’, leaving this early?”

Clearing his throat, he nods, “yeah, I- uh, gotta get Robin later and she’ll um,” he shakes his head and moves closer and closer to the door, “I’ll see you around”

It’s a lie, he can’t bring himself to come around here anytime soon. This is too much all of a sudden, he’s quick or at least he thought he was quick at wiping his eyes.

Wayne is up and next to him between blinks, his lips in a frown, “Boy, what’s the tears for?”

“It’s nothing, Mr. Munson” he lies, opening the door, “I really need to leave now”

His hand is on the doorknob, Wayne is still staring at him with a confused expression. It’s quiet, it’s late and he needs to leave but he’s frozen in place. It takes him minutes to finally turn the knob before walking out and to his car. With Wayne’s eyes following him.

Once he’s at home, alone in an empty house.

He breaks and cries.

Love is heartbreaking.

———

Oh hi. I broke my own heart and I never actually used the prompt that inspired this whole thing. But I couldn’t figure out how to turn it around 🫠

So that means, a second part with a happy ending will happen 🥳 but for now you get tears, sorry about that.

Permanent tag list: (sorry everyone 🫣) @spectrum-spectre @itsfreakingbats @mysticcrownshipper @artiststarme @harvesteee @thereindeerlady @justforthedead89 @ronniescontinuum @freyaforestafay @littlewildflowerkitten @sierra-violet @estrellami-1 @gregre369 @zerokrox-blog

#HURT AND NO COMFORT #ANGST #steve harrington angst #steddie angst #steddie #nburkhardt writes #steve harrington fic #stranger things fic #no but for real this made me want to cry AND I WROTE IT

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