#steve whump

[sp0o0kylights]

Someone on Twitter proposed Steve and Gareth as cousins whose family had a major falling out, and then someone else brought it up recently and long story short no idea who to credit the idea too bc you can’t search for SHIT on Twitter but it's theirs not mine. 

Anyway I wrote a lil thing as a warmup 

PART TWO

"Why don't you come sit with Hellfire?" Gareth asked, angrily leaned against the bathroom wall while Steve fixed his hair.

He'd tried not to cling since he entered high school. Tried to keep things on the downlow, least any gossipy mouths started running. 

It was so stupidly, needlessly, hard. 

 His cousin was only two years ahead of him but they'd spent the last year in different schools because of it. 

 That year, and the lack of Steve's presence in it, had grated. Now that he finally had Steve back, Gareth was loathe to play by the rules. 

"Sit with you and Eddie, "the freak" Munson? I'll pass." Steve said, but there was no bite in it. 

That, Gareth knew, was because Steve was  using Eddie as an excuse. 

"You'd like Eddie if you spent five minutes with him, King Steve." Gareth fired back on automatic. His fingers dug into his arms, as he resisted the urge to pace around the bathroom floor. 

Unspoken was all the shit that had taken place.

Steve and Nancy's breakup. The rumor mill in overdrive, first about how Jonathan Byers had taken creep shot photos of them, then about how he'd taken his shot with Nancy herself. 

The supposed cheating, the public fights, the crazy background of Jonathan's little brother being missing. 

Billy Hargrove beating Steve to a pulp. 

Now friendless, Steve had thoroughly fallen from his place at the tippy top of the social hierarchy and between his utter lack of friends and his shit tier parents, Gareth was concerned. 

"You do not want me to sit with you, Gary. I'd tell all your little friends that you're apart of the royal family." Steve turned, making an exaggerated face. "How's Munson feel about cozying up to a Prince?" 

"I'd technically be an Earl, Steve, not a prince." Gareth grumbled. 

He got an eye roll in response. "Somehow I don't think he'll care." 

"I do though." Gareth blurted out, absolutely thoughtless. 

Steve blinked at him. 

"What?" He said. 

In for a penny right?

 "I care." Gareth said, looking down and scuffing a shoe, making it squeak against the grimy tiles. "About you. You dick." 

"Wow Gary you almost sounded loving there."

For once, he ignored the jab. "I'm worried about you, man." He said it quietly, the painful truth pulled out of him almost by force. 

He knew better than anyone how few people Steve had. Knew how his dad was likely taking all the crap Steve had been involved in lately. 

Richard Harrington hadn't been the wedge that had separated his and Steve's mother, but the man hadn't done them any favors, either. 

His intolerance towards the working and lower classes, his demand for perfection, the way he looked down his nose not just on Gareth's parents but on his own wife and son…

Gareth's mom didn't tolerate it. 

Likewise, Stella Harrington didn't tolerate her sister ruining her shot at being a rich trophy wife. 

Both their sets of parents were dramatic and neither of them weren't anywhere near the concept of "good" but at least Gareth's weren't neglectful and abusive. 

Shitty absolutely, but he never worried about getting thrown out, or that his mom wouldn't acknowledge his birthday because he'd "complimented her outfit the wrong way." 

(”It's fine dude she just thought I called her ugly. It was a miscommunication. Dad said it's a good lesson about how women work."

"Casual reminder that your dad's an asshole and also how is telling your mom that she looked lovely in the sunlight telling her she's ugly?”

“It implied she wasn't lovely the rest of the time or some shit, I dunno man.”) 

The BMW was a shitty prize when compared what Steve had dealt with to receive it. 

"I'm okay." Steve said seriously. "It's almost the end of the year anyways. I can tough out having some extra alone time." 

"If you're sure…"

"Yeah man, I'm sure. Thanks though."

Then Steve pulled him into a hug and fuck their parents, who demanded they continued some stupid grudge. Gareth clung to him just as hard as he had at ten. Unsure if he'd ever be allowed to see Steve again.

#steve harringtons shitty parents #steve harrington #gareth #gareth emerson #my beloved lil side character #steve and gareth as secret cousins #SECRET COUSSSIIINS #steve whump #0o0 fanfics

[trashpocket]

hurt steve hours </3

#steve harrington #steve harrington whump #steve whump #hurt steve #stranger things fanart #stranger things #steddie #i just love it when our bb boi gets battered like we do

[afewproblems]

'Harring' flashes on the caller ID again, illuminated in bright green on the handheld phone in their kitchen.

It's the third time they've called today and Steve is anxious.

He hasn't heard from his parents in the last six years since he cut off all contact with them, so to see their name come up so many times all in the span of an afternoon is...well it's worrisome to say the least.

"Are you going to pick up," Eddie says as he comes up behind Steve, he drapes himself over his lovers back and nuzzles into his ear.

Steve smiles tightly and breathes out, "I don't know".

He turns in Eddie's arms to face him and brings his own arms around Eddie's lower back, holding him loosely.

"It's weird, right?" Steve says softly, "what do they want?" He slides his nose up and down Eddie's own before tipping his face up to his the tip of it.

Eddie hums, "well you won't know unless you answer love," he answers Steve's kiss with one of his own, soft against his lips, "if they call again, maybe pick up?"

Steve nods and flinches as the ringer starts up again behind them.

He breathes in deeply through his nose and out slowly through his mouth, Eddie brings up a hand to cup Steve's jaw and slides his thumb over his cheekbone.

"You got this," Eddie whispers, "if they say something shitty, just hang up, fuck em".

Steve nods and whirls around to snatch the phone off the console, he bites his lip for just a moment before saying a quiet, "Hello?"

"Steven?" A soft voice cracks wetly over the speaker and a sudden chill spreads over Steve's back.

"Mom?"

"Steven, honey," Diane Harrington says softly in a tone he's never heard before, "I need you to come home".

Steve turns around, Eddie is leaning against the opposite wall with his arms crossed, Steve feels his face contort with confusion which Eddie answers with a tilt of his head, "what? Mom, no--"

"Steven honey, this is important--"

"No offense," Steve intejects harshly, he's gripping the phone so hard the plastic creaks under his fingers. Eddie's concerned gaze has him releasing the phone from his death grip in a matter of seconds, but it's hard. He's right back there, nineteen years old again, in a screaming match with his dad in the living room, a red handprint blooms over his jaw as he tells Robert Harrington to, 'go fuck himself,' one last time.

"But, you don't get to do this, it's been years mom so forgive me if--"

"Steven, I'm, I'm sick".

Steve stops, his mouth opens and closes as his mother chokes on a broken sob, it comes through tinny and harsh over the speaker.

She tells him of the diagnosis, some form of leukemia, how it's spread much more rapidly than the doctors anticipated, how she refused treatment.

"I'm not going to spend the rest of my time in a hospital with no hair in one of those godawful hospital beds if I can help it Steven".

They talk for awhile, or really Mrs. Harrington talks for another half hour while Steve stands there silently with the phone in his hands. He nods every now and again but the movements are stiff, Eddie paces around the living room, stopping in front of Steve's eyeline every now and again.

"Okay," Steve finally says, his voice cracks just slightly enough to make Eddie cross the living room towards him.

"Mom...I don't know what you expect me to do?"

"Baby?" Eddie whispers, he stands just off to the side trying to catch Steve's eye.

"No, no--no! Mom, I thought I stopped being a Harrington a long time ago, right?" Steve snarls into the receiver, "you had so many opportunities to tell Dad he was wrong but you just sat there, what else am I supposed to think except that you agree with him?"

"Baby, just hang up--"

"Mom, Ma' you have to stop, I'm not coming back, I'm so-".

His mouth snaps shut and a deep flush begins to rise up his neck and over his cheeks, his eyes glassy.

"I'm sorry you're sick, but I'm not coming back, Goodluck".

Steve removes the phone from his ear, little snippets of words and crying trickle through over the speaker as Steve places the handset back on the dock.

"Baby," Eddie tries again, he reaches out tentatively, slowly letting his hands smooth over Steve's arms at the shoulder.

Steve shakes his head, his jaw clenched as his face crumples, he lets Eddie pull him into his chest and tucks his head into the juncture of Eddie's neck and shoulder.

Steve feels Eddie bring them slowly to the floor as he tries to slow down his breathing.

"I'm so sorry baby," Eddie whispers, pillowing his check onto Steve's head, he nuzzles the fluffy hair just once and squeezes Steve tighter.

"I don't, I just, where was this when she was healthy, it's..." Steve takes a deep breath, "why now, and she's not even sorry --neither of them are," he whispers into Eddies collarbone.

Eddie bites the inside of his cheek, he stays quiet, listening to Steve's breathing stop and start.

"I don't want her to be sick, but I just," he sniffles, "it's not fair, I'm so angry with her, with them both --its like they get a pass for being so shitty for so long--"

"No, no they don't, not if you don't want to," Eddie says, the words are soft but the tone firm, "you don't have to give them anything you don't want to".

"But--"

"Steve," Eddie pulls back just enough for Steve to raise his head, he lifts his hand to cup Steve's cheek, "it doesn't make you a bad person to not want to see her, to see them".

Steve starts to shake his head but Eddie's hand remains steady on his cheek.

"Do you want to see her?" He asks after a beat.

"I, I don't know," Steve pulls his lower lip into his mouth and chews the corner of it until he tastes copper, "I don't..."

Eddie tilts his head and sweeps his thumb across Steve's cheek in encouragement.

"I don't want my mom to die, I want her to want to fucking fight for herself, for me --she's just giving up again, she's just deciding to quit without even trying to be my mom," he chokes out, his voice breaks as tears finally spill down his cheeks.

"I'm not, I'm not explaining it right," Steve bites out, raising his hands to grind harshly into his eyes, "I don't want to forgive her, but I, I think I would if she would just try, I don't know what to do," he trails off as his voice wobbles and wanes, he breathes out harshly and lowers his face back into Eddies neck.

"Okay," Eddie whispers into Steve's hair as he brings Steve closer, bundling him up in his arms, "you don't have to know what to do or how to feel, especially not right now".

Eddie squeezes Steve once more before shifting to his knees to stand. He hoists Steve to his feet and leads him to the kitchen before depositing him in a kitchen table chair.

Eddie busies himself at the stove, moving the half full kettle from the far burner to the largest left coils, he flicks the element on and lowers the whistle back to alert him when the water boils.

"Did I ever tell you how I handled my mom's funeral?" Eddie asks, banishing the quiet from the room and almost startling Steve.

"I yelled at the casket," Eddie says with an air of non-chalance that does not match the words. He grabs two mugs from the cupboard before grabbing a box of tea from the pantry. He leaves the prepped cups on the counter before turning back around to face Steve.

"It was open, shouldn'ta' been," he continues with a shake of his head, "rural town, mortician wasn't used to working on overdoses so, they couldn't quite cover up the purple".

Steve reaches for Eddie's hands as he comes back to the table, in three slow strides. He smiles but a long sigh escapes Eddie as he sits in the chair next to Steve.

"I was thirteen, and I was so, so mad at her for leaving me," Eddie murmurs, "I couldn't help it, Uncle Wayne had to take me home before it was even over".

Eddie raises his head to meet Steve's eyes, "I felt like shit after though, probably cried all night once we got home".

"Im going to tell you what Wayne told me," Eddie says softly, he scoots to the edge of his seat, until his knees are brushing Steve's own.

"When you lose someone that made your life hard, you grieve more than just that person, you also grieve all that lost potential, everything you didn't have with that person," Eddie squeezes Steves hands once more before gently letting them go. He stands up as the kettle begins to squeal from the stove.

"Everything they never gave you and the possibility that they could change, it's like--like that physics guy," Eddie laughs, waving his hands at Steve's confused expression, "you know the one with the cat?"

Steve shakes his head, a small watery smile begins to bloom over his face as Eddie continues to make their tea and explain.

"You'll never know if they could have been better to you because they died, so they both are and aren't a good parent simultaneously," Eddie says, linking his fingers together, "shit, I bet Dustin could explain this better".

He walks their filled mugs over to the table and takes his seat again

"I dunno about that Eds," Steve mumbles as he wipes his eyes, "when did you get so wise?"

"'All Wayne sweetheart," Eddie hums with a soft grin that pulls at the corners of his eyes, he reaches out to wipe a stray tear from Steve's cheek, "don't tell him though, he doesn't need the ego boost".

Steve barks out a laugh, before Eddie pulls him into another tight hug, "so, you don't have to know how you feel right now, okay?"

"Okay".

Steve isn't sure how long they stay like that, but by the time Eddie let's go, their tea has gone cold.

#thank you fic #some angst #but also comfort #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steve x eddie #steve harrington has bad parents #cw cancer #cw overdose #we love a protective and wise uncle wayne in this house #eddie also gives good advice but thinks hes bad at it #steve whump #thank you for the 500 follows everyone #angst as a thank you fic? its more likely thank you think

[genyasglockk]

steve going on the painstaking journey of unlearning the homophobia his father drilled into him and feeling like he shouldn't be allowed to be friends with someone as great as robin because if she'd came out to him even just a few months earlier he would've been such a fucking asshole. and then he meets eddie munson and realizes oh. I like this boy. and he wants to shut down because it feels like all of his progress means nothing because he isn't strong enough to work with this. he could handle accepting others for who they are. he could handle being supportive and open minded for the sake of others. but affording himself that same kindness? he couldn't fucking do it. steve harrington was not allowed to go against the grain of what society considered normal. he wasn't allowed to be different and he definitely wasn't allowed to be queer.

steve wanted to change. he wanted to be better. but there was a limit to his bravery. that limit was self acceptance. and steve had never been good at being kind to himself.

#stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #robin buckley #steve is such a sad guy i want to hug him #steve whump #ao3

[hotluncheddie]

anyone got any good hopper being there for steve / a father figure for him fics?

steve going thru it and hopper seeing him? it’s okay if it’s a steve whump

preferably with steddie but anything you think is rly good

#hotlunch #<3 #steddie #jim hopper #good dad jim hopper #steve whump #i wanna read him getting looked after and understood pls ty #steve harrington

[00hellowhump00]

#justanotherwhump #steve #steve harrington #steve harrington whump #steve whump #whump #hurt #hurt steve #hurt steve harrington #stranger things spoilers #stranger things #stranger things season four #stranger things season 4 #stranger things s4 #stranger things s4 spoilers #the upside down #demobats

[ladykailitha]

I just read the shovel talk fics and now I’m sitting here. Ugly. Crying. So. Thanks for ripping my heart out, stomping on it, picking it back up, brushing the dirt off, putting a barbie bandaid on it, giving it an ‘all better’ kiss, and handing it back to me with a sheepish expression on your face, twisting your foot in the dirt, and saying sorry. In other words you’re too adorable for me to be mad at, but omg the knife to the gut that gave me was SO. MUCH. ILY. Please do it again at your earliest convenience.

Yeeeeeaaaaaahhhh, I like abusing Steve. Mostly so I can actually have him process his emotions for once and be properly cared for afterwards.

#asks #my writing #stranger things #steddie #steve whump

[italiansteebie]

Almond Croissant

Also on AO3

****

Steve woke up, it was dark in his apartment. This startled him a little bit but when his eyes met his bat, he felt relief and safety wash over him. He sighs and heaves himself out of bed, getting ready for the morning shift at family video. He’s grateful Robin’ll be there with him today, not wanting to work with Keith anymore.

He can’t take anymore smacking lips and beratement from the guy, especially when he’s apologized genuinely more than twice. He just. Doesn’t understand why the guy dislikes him so much. But maybe it’s his lack of social queues, maybe he’s missing something. He makes a mental note to ask Robin about it, she’s a little more in tune when it comes to other people, not so much herself. 

He makes his way through his apartment, stopping by his closet, throwing on his vest, running a hand through his hair, and making his way out the door. He grabs his keys and his backpack, and walks down the stairs to his Beemer. While he’s driving he decides he is going to stop and get breakfast at a local bakery for him and Robin. He picks out a few pastries, and calls it good. He pays and continues on his way to work. 

He reaches into the paper bag with his free hand and starts munching on a blueberry muffin, he quickly becomes ravenous, just realizing how hungry he is. He racks his brain, trying to remember the last time he ate, he wishes his body would just tell him when he’s hungry. Maybe he should have the kids call him periodically and remind him to eat, they owe him some service, you know? He’s brought back to reality as a tickling cough makes its way out of his throat. He shrugs and deems it the allergens in the air. He pulls into work, parking and getting out of his car, and the cough is still there. ‘Maybe I’m getting sick,’ he thinks, and pushes open the door, waving hi to Keith, who just glares at him, and clocks in. 

Robin walks in shortly after, shooting over to Steve as she sees the bag of pastries on the counter, he smiles, a few crumbs from the muffin he’s yet to finish, tumbling out. “Gross, dingus. You got crumbs all over the counter!” He smiles sheepishly, “Sorry Robs, I’ll clean it up,” his voice comes out scratchy and he rubs his throat. She gives him a quick concerned glance before rolling her eyes and grabbing a paper towel to wipe away the crumbs. She reaches into the bag pulling out a croissant and bites into it. It’s good, sweet and nutty, but before she can start to enjoy it, her eyes widen. “Hey Steve,” he hums at her, “You feelin’ okay, bud?” He takes a minute to think about it, and then shrugs. “I felt okay this morning but my throat’s kind of scratchy now.” He admits.

Robin nods slowly, trying to keep her panic to a minimum, “Remember when you were over at my house that time and my mom made us almond cookies? And you forgot you were allergic ‘til you started throwing up?” He nods, confused as to why she’s bringing this up. “Do you happen to have an epi pen on you?” she continues, “Yeah. I carry one everywhere now because of that.” She breathes in deeply. “Okay, so tell me. What kind of croissant is this?” She asks, and she can see the gears start turning in his head, “...Almond?” He responds weakly, and she nods. “We gotta go.” He rushes out, noticing the tightening in his chest getting progressively worse. Robin snatches his keys out of his pocket and pulls him out the door, “I thought you didn’t have a license,” He wheezes out, and she gives him a look that says, “Are you being serious right now?” He waves a hand, motioning for her to just forget it. 

She pulls out of the driveway and drives a little haphazardly towards the hospital. Steve reaches around to his backpack, grabbing the epinephrine out of the front pocket, and warns Robin to look away, always considerate of everyone else before himself. Which is annoying, but in this moment she’s grateful that she can focus on driving to the hospital, she can’t do that if she’s having a panic attack. He sticks himself, hissing as the needle pierces his skin. He breathes deeply, chest constricting further, he chokes out a “Can you drive a little faster, Rob? The epi only works so much.” And that. Oh that’s scary. Steve doesn’t ask for help.

She pulls into the hospital parking lot, circling the car and helping Steve out, holding onto him with a tight grip as they make their way to the emergency room doors. She feels him stop, and gently pulls on him without looking, until she hears wet splashing behind her. She turns and sees that Steve is bent over heaving as his body rejects the objects. “Fuck.” She whispers, “Uh. Okay. Steve? Steve. I;m going to go get help okay… Just stay here.” She says and starts running towards the entrance, not looking back, just trying to get help as fast as she can. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, shit.” She huffs as her feet hit the ground, pushing open the doors she shouts, “Help! Help! My friend, allergic, ate nuts, help.” She heaves, pointing to the parking lot. From her place in the lobby she can see Steve fully laying on the ground now, and the nurses spring into action. There’s a voice over the P.A. system, and there's a team rushing out the doors to aid Steve, who’s trying to come to terms with dying 10 feet in front of a hospital. It feels like it’s been hours, though Robin knows it's only been 15 minutes.  Logistically, she knows Steve will be just fine, having taken the epinephrine and them reaching the hospital as fast as they could, but she breaks down anyway. Tears stream down her face as she watches the doctors wheel Steve back on a stretcher. 

The nurses take pity on her, rubbing her arm gently, saying “Honey, your boyfriend is going to be okay.” Her face twists up at the mention of Steve being her boyfriend, but she doesn’t have any intentions of correcting them at the moment. It is an hour before they let her see him, within that time she’d called Dustin, who showed up 5 minutes after receiving the news. They go back together, and when they reach his room, they take a simultaneous deep breath. Inside, Steve’s sitting up in his bed looking, well. Like shit, but better than before. He makes eye contact with Robin, before stuttering, “I- I am so sorry. I’m. I’m really trying to be better about that stuff but I hadn’t eaten, and when I bit into the muffin I realized I was so hungry. I didn’t even consider…” He sniffles a few tears leaking out. He hates being vulnerable like this, especially in front of Dustin, but the exhaustion from anaphylaxis is making it extremely hard to mask. Robin shakes her head, “Steve. It’s okay, really. I know you’re trying to be better, trust me. I get how hard it is,” She smiles sadly.  “I just wanted to get you breakfast…” He trails, Robin sighs an “I know.” at him, walking forward and grabbing his hand. Dustin is still standing by the door, looking at him. “I didn’t know you were allergic to almonds… I could’ve killed you.” He whispers, and Steve laughs at this. “Dustin. I would have killed myself before you ever even came close to killing me,” He says, reaching his free hand out for him. “Besides, you’re so smart. I’d put just as much trust in you as any of these doctors.” And Dustin goes all sheepish at this comment, waving a hand, “Pssssh. Whatever, Steve.” He says, a small smile gracing his face. Steve turns serious for a moment, “You should both know that I am also asthmatic.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington angst #stranger things #best friend robin #robin buckley #dustin henderson #best friend dustin #autistic steve harrington #autistic robin buckley #anaphylaxis #Steve whump #light hurt/comfort #very important

[flowercrowngods]

opportunities for steve whump do in fact deserve the red glittery gel pen actually

#stranger things #steve harrington whump #steve whump #dio rambles #listen i’m not saying the time travel fic is happening but. well. the planning is 👀

[thatharringrovehoe]

Just gunna do this for a bunch of whips I guess. Anyway, Whump Steve AU

#why do i love to hurt him? #i dunno but oh well #*cracks Steve's heart in half like a glow stick* #billy hargrove #harringrove #steve harrington #Steve Whump #also Billy but WHO BOY #Steve is Not Okay™ #that hoe wants to write but makes mood boards instead

[whumper-at-heart]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Iron Man (Movies), Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Avengers Team Members & Tony Stark, Steve Rogers & Tony Stark, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Bruce Banner, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Clint Barton, Jarvis (Iron Man movies) Additional Tags: Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Whumptober, Whumptober 2023, Tony Stark Whump, Steve Rogers Whump, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt Tony, Hurt Steve Rogers, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Post-Avengers (2012), tony stark has starkbots, BAMF Jarvis (Iron Man movies), Self-Sacrificing Tony Stark, tony saves steve, CPR, Cardiopulmonary Resuscitation, cardiac arrest - Freeform, Comic Book Science, Natasha Romanov Is Not A Robot Series: Part 5 of Tony Stark Whumptober 2023 Summary:

steve hides a injury after the avengers latest battle . that works well , until he nearly bleeds out . tony will do anything to save steve , and if that means he needs to pull the plug on his own life support , he'll do that. whumptober day 5 theme:its broken

#whumptober #whumptober 2023 #no.5 #its broken #iron man #fic #tony whump #steve whump

[lostwhump]

Captain America: The First Avenger (2011)

#captain america the first avenger #bucky barnes #steve rogers #stucky #sebastian stan #chris evans #sebstanedit #sebastianstanedit #buckybarnesedit #steverogersedit #whump #whumpedit #dailymarvelgifs #dailymarvelstudios #marvelgifs #marveledit #dailyavengers #mcufam #mcuedit

[emchant3d]

It’s the fourth time this week Eddie’s been late without a phone call.

Sure, his job has him working weird hours - Steve gets it. But he also knows his schedule and he knows the days Eddie works at the bar til close and he knows the days he’s supposed to be home before dark, and he hasn’t had a closing shift once this week. 

Yet he came home near ten tonight, and Steve had been worried and nervous and yes, sure, a little - a lot - insecure about it, and maybe he’d lashed out first, or maybe Eddie had, Steve doesn’t know, but he knows they’re standing in the living room shouting at one another and it’s all coming to a head and he can’t stop himself, can’t keep from getting loud and angry and–

"Do you even want to fucking be here?" he yells.

"Not when you're acting like this!" Eddie says, and Steve's throat goes tight like there's a fist wrapped around it. 

Not when he's acting like this, he thinks. Not when he's being too needy. Too pushy. Too demanding.

Something in his brain feels like it rewires. Their relationship flips on its head, and suddenly fear is coiling in Steve's stomach, not anger. 

He'll lose Eddie if he keeps pushing like this. If he demands too much of his time, pulls him away from what he'd rather be doing, makes himself too much work, he'll lose him. Eddie always said he wasn't going anywhere. That he loves Steve, wants to be with him, will never get tired of him. Steve was a fucking idiot to take that at face value.

He feels sick to his stomach. He wants to apologize, wants to tell Eddie to forget all about what he said, wants to show how sorry he is, but between one moment and the next he's feeling like a guest in his own home, and he's very familiar with how it feels to be unwelcome.

So instead he shakes his head. Eddie wants to be left alone, probably. Doesn't want to see Steve when he's mad at him. Doesn't want to deal with him. He'll make himself scarce.

"I'm staying in the guest room tonight," he says stiffly, and turns away, only faltering a little when Eddie mumbles 'what the fuck ever' behind him. He flinches when Eddie slams the front door and closes the spare room so quietly it barely even clicks.

– Eddie gets home late.

Like, late-late. Steve hears the front door open as he's staring at the clock on the bedside table, the bright red numbers burning into his vision. Why did they even put a fucking clock in here, he thinks. It's the guest room. Why did he insist on furnishing this room like someone might live in it? Like this was a home people would be in and out of, like their family would come and stay with them long enough to need an alarm clock on the bedside table?

Desperate, a voice in his head hisses at him, desperate and needy and full of wishful thinking that someone would want to stay around sad little Steve Harrington long enough to need anything--

Eddie's coming down the hallway. He's trying to be quiet, but he forgot to take his shoes off at the door and his Reeboks squeak a little against the hardwood. It's a familiar sound. Comforting, usually. It's how he knows his honey's made it home safe when he's out late, that tell-tale squeak and the little stumbles when he's tipsy and making his way through their home after a long gig.

There was no gig tonight, though, and Eddie's footsteps are steady and even despite the soft sound of rubber on wood. He isn't drunk, Steve doesn't think - and is that better or worse? That he left after a fight and didn't even go somewhere to drink it off. Where has he been, if not their usual bar to think about what they'd spat at one another, trying to think of solutions, of apologies?

And is Steve really owed an apology? He was overbearing. He was pushy. He was demanding and authoritative and too fucking much all over again, and Eddie lashed out in response, and does Steve deserve an apology after all that? He's been going around in circles with himself all evening about it, arguing in his own head, saying yes I deserve one because my feelings were hurt and no I don't deserve one because I lashed out first and how does he answer this for himself? He doesn't know.

He knows he'd do just about anything to make the empty feeling in his chest go away, though. Knows that he'd shove his hurt away and eat his words and apologize to Eddie and never, ever push again if it meant he knew where they stood. If it meant Eddie would forgive him and never storm out like that again, if it meant Steve knew he wouldn't be left alone like this to wonder if Eddie was coming back.

And he feels so dramatic - he can hear Robin's voice already, telling him it was just a fight, that there's no reason to get this worked up about it, but Steve can't help it. Slammed doors and loneliness are the soundtrack to his childhood and he can't help the panic he feels when someone he loves leaves.

"Do you want to be here?" he'd asked, like a fucking idiot, and Eddie hadn't said yes. Steve swallows around the lump that's taken up permanent residence in his throat. Reaches to swipe a hand over his face, rubbed raw, eyes burning with tears he won't let fall because what right does he have to cry? He brought this on himself. He always brings it on himself.

Eddie's feet are still squeaking their way slowly down the hallway, he's trying not to wake Steve - or is he just trying not to be noticed? Impossible, if Eddie Munson is in a room Steve is going to notice, how can he not? He's been yanked into that gravitational pull and there's no escape for him, not anymore, he's a moon circling around the solar system and Eddie is the sun, burning bright and pulling focus and what is Steve to do in the face of that?

He keeps his eyes fixed on the clock. Watches the display change when a minute's passed. Feels his heartbeat stutter when Eddie's shuffling, squeaking steps pause outside the guest room.

They keep a hall light on at night. It's on a dimmer, turned down way low, but neither of them do well with complete darkness. Too many nightmares, too many shadows haunting and hunting the both of them. Steve can see the muted glow of it from beneath the door.

He can also see when Eddie comes to a stop because his feet block that light. Two shadows in the doorframe, obscuring the soft haze of warm orange that creeps in a half-moon over the carpet, and Steve stops breathing. There's a soft shifting noise, fabric over wood, a gentle thunk when Eddie leans against the guest room door, and Steve almost calls out to him. Almost says I'm sorry, I didn't mean it, please don't leave again, please don't leave me, but the words stick in his throat. Ball's in Eddie's court, as it should be when Steve fucked up so bad, when he tried to ruin it all, when he made Eddie so mad that he left when he promised Steve he would never do that. Eddie's a good man. Keeps his word. Steve's the problem, Steve is always the goddamn problem, always will be, ruins and stains everything he fucking touches–

The shadow disappears. Steve squeezes his eyes shut so tight he sees lights popping behind his lids. Those shuffling squeaking steps continue their way down the hall. Steve feels like he's going to throw up but he didn't have dinner so there's nothing in his belly but bile and nothing comes up even though his throat is tight and his stomach is fucking rolling.

The bedroom door - their bedroom door - creaks on its hinges. Steve keeps meaning to put some WD-40 on it but he kind of likes that it makes a noise, that when he's asleep it's just loud enough to wake him halfway and tell him to anticipate the warm wash of tobacco and sandalwood that will cloud him when Eddie slips beneath the covers. Lets him know he's about to be grabbed and groped a little bit, sweet little kisses pressed to his shoulder and neck and jawline until he's got a face tucked into the curve of his throat, until he's giving a sleepy smile and winding his arms around a trim waist and dragging Eddie in close, sputtering and laughing tiredly as wild hair gets in his face and mouth before he falls asleep again, wrapped tight around the love of his life.

None of that tonight, apparently - and he doesn't blame him. No, he hears the bedroom door creak and it feels like a punishment that he deserves and his eyes burn and burn and burn and his face is wet now, he can't help it, and he wipes at it again angrily, takes the soft blanket to his face and why is it so soft why does Steve try so hard when he knows he won't get anything back why does he try to build a home when he's never had one and never will and is going to lose the one he's clawed onto so desperately and tried so hard to keep–

The door creaks again. Steve takes a stuttering breath. Eddie's steps are soft now as they come down the hallway, bare feet on the floor, almost silent as he creeps his way closer. Steve clenches his teeth so hard his jaw aches, anything to hold back the sounds he wants to make - he can't let Eddie hear him. He can't let Eddie know he's crying. That's manipulative, isn't it? Crying in front of the person he hurt? He won't do it, won't be that selfish, but that shadow appears at the base of the door again. Steve can't help the shaky inhale he takes, and it sounds so fucking loud in the quiet of the guest room, choked and echoing. 

"Baby?" Eddie says, voice low and quiet, rapping so gently against the door with one knuckle. "You in there, Stevie?" 

Just the sound of him is enough to send his heart crashing around in his ribcage, fluttering and jumping and making Steve tense. He wants to answer but he can’t get the words to form, his throat feels sealed shut, and he wonders if he should answer even if he were able because what could Eddie possibly have to say right now? It can’t be anything good and Steve doesn’t know if he can take it right now, in this room that makes him feel like a guest in his own home - but isn’t he always a guest? Isn’t that what he’s made to be, a temporary stop in everyone else’s story?

But he’s not ready for Eddie to move past him yet. Not tonight. Let it happen in the morning if it has to happen, let him put this off just a little longer. Just please, not tonight. Not yet.

But Eddie’s never been known for his patience, and the click of the latch has Steve slamming his eyes closed. Too late to roll over and hide his face, but he’s got enough time to duck down and tuck most of his features into a pillow. He tries to let his body relax, to let the tense lines of his muscles uncoil and his shoulders drop and his fists unclench, but he can’t tell if he’s managed it and the ache in his palms from his blunt nails tells him maybe he did, but it won’t help much.

Eddie makes his way across the carpet in silent steps, and the mattress dips with his weight as he sits on the edge of it. Steve’s fingers twitch to reach for him, but he just curls them into the sheets instead and hopes the motion looks absent enough to have happened in his sleep. 

He smells sandalwood and tobacco and feels the warmth from Eddie being so near but it feels like there’s a wall between them, one he can’t cross even if he tries, one he’s barred from so much as touching. 

He works hard to keep his breathing even but it’s hitching now and then despite his best efforts, shaky and too loud in the silent room, but he keeps up the charade even though the end of it all is perched right in front of him. And it’s Eddie who puts an end to it. It was always Eddie who was going to put an end to it.

“I know you’re awake,” he says, and Steve squeezes his eyes tighter like that’ll make it untrue, like he can just drift off in a second if he wills it hard enough. Eddie shifts on the mattress, and Steve curls tighter into himself. “Let’s just hash this out, huh? Get it over with.” Steve bites his tongue so hard he thinks he might taste blood. It’s that simple for Eddie - but it’s always simple, isn’t it? Cut and dry, plain as day, Steve is the only one who can never see it coming, it’s written on the goddamn walls for everyone else.

He risks peeking through his lashes but Eddie’s got his back to him so it doesn’t even matter, not really. Eddie isn’t looking at him and so Steve allows himself to look, takes in the hunch of Eddie’s shoulders, the curve of his spine beneath his thin pajama shirt - he’d changed, when he’d made his way through their creaky bedroom door, took off his clothes and put his pajamas on and kicked off those tennis shoes, they’re probably in a pile at the foot of the bed for Steve to trip over and he will miss tripping over them, he’ll miss it terribly.

He wonders if he’ll need to move. If he’ll have to find a new place and separate out all of their things into his things, if SteveAndEddie’sStuff will become Steve’s stuff and Eddie’s stuff. Or maybe he’ll just start staying in this guest room, maybe that’s why he furnished this room so completely, because somehow he knew he’d end up alone in it.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says, and Steve inhales sharply.

“Don’t,” he says, and somehow he keeps his voice steady.

“So you are awake,” Eddie says, and he tries to sound teasing, sound playful, but it drops like a stone in this space between them. No room for levity in the dark cloud Steve’s filled this room with. He wishes he could be easygoing and let go gently, but it’s Eddie - in what world could he take losing him graciously?

“Yeah,” he says, and he stares at Eddie’s back as the other raises his head, but he still doesn’t turn to look at Steve, and he wishes he could at least look him in the face when he rips his heart out of his chest.

part 2

#steddie #steve/eddie #stevexeddie #eddie/steve #eddiexsteve #steddie fic #my fic #listen i was in the mood for steve whump and i won't apologize for it #don't worry there's plenty of eddie whump coming in part 2 i promise

[marriedtobigfoot]

Steve ends up heartbroken, lonely and depressed after season 2. Nancy called him bullshit, even after he ditched all his old friends for her. Billy Hargrove took his spot at the top of the food chain. He can have it, Steve doesn't really want it anymore. But Steve does want to find some sort of connection. Someone to have in his life who isn't an 11 year old kid he barely knows. He tries to go on a date one night, take a nice-seeming girl to a party. He wants to find connection, to kill the loneliness that's been building for months, but just as he's feeling kind of good about things, his date ditches him.

So. He decides to drink his feelings. He gets majorly fucked up, and ends up laying on the ground in the backyard, contemplating how much life seems to hate him.

Only to literally get tripped over by Eddie Munson, who was at this party selling pot and is very confused as to why Steve Harrington is alone on the ground with a bottle of vodka clenched in one hand.

Eddie ends up chatting a little with Steve, nothing substantial, but enough to know that Steve is very very drunk, and also very very sad.

He asks if Steve wants to go back to the party, and Steve staunchly refuses. He doesn't want to be around a bunch of annoyingly happy people.

He asks if Steve needs a ride home, and Steve just kind of shrugs. His parents just left for another trip, so home is kind of depressing right now too. But he doesn't exactly have any other friends he can stay with so. Home it'll have to be.

Only Eddie can *tell* he doesn't really want to go home, though he has no idea why Steve wouldn't want to return to his veritable mansion after a shitty night. The reason doesn't matter much. He offers to let Steve crash at his place. Steve can take the couch, or hell he can stay in Eddie's room if he doesn't mind sharing, that way he wouldn't risk being woken up when Wayne comes home that morning.

And well, Steve agrees. Can't think of any reason not too. Munson has been nice so far, he's got a good easy-going energy that Steve likes. Why not stay the night.

By the time they get to Eddie's, Steve is *slightly* more sober. Not much, but he's slurring his words a little less, and he can walk with only a little help.

Eddie grabs them each a little plate of leftovers, because he has no idea if Steve's eaten at all. It's quiet while they eat, Eddie doesn't push Steve to talk, and Steve isn't sure what to say. Eventually Eddie sets the plates aside and give Steve an easy grin.

"So, do you want the couch, or are you crashing with me?"

Steve thinks about it for a while. He hasn't shared a bed with a guy-friend since he was a kid, and he's heard rumors about Eddie, whispers in the hall about the way he looks at other guys. But...Steve can't really bring himself to care. He's tired, and he really doesn't want to be alone.

"I don't mind sharing."

Eddie sets them both up in his room, letting Steve choose which side of the bed he wants, and they both settle in. There's a respectable distance between the two of them, and Eddie says a quick goodnight to Steve, figures they won't talk and just go right to bed.

Except Steve isn't sober, and he really isn't in a good headspace, so he can't stop himself from blurting things out into the quiet of the dark room.

"Are you really gay?"

Eddie stiffens next to him, he can feel it, he can hear the way that the other boys breath cuts off and he seems to stop breathing all-together.

"It's okay if you are, I'm not going to be an asshole about it, I'm trying not to be that guy anymore. I guess I was just curious."

It's quiet for another beat before Eddie seems to loosen just a little. He starts breathing again at least.

"Yeah I uh- I am. Gay. And if that's weird the couch is still open, I can-"

"It's not weird."

"Okay."

Steve let's himself mull over this confirmation, and then his mouth starts moving again, without his permission.

"Is it lonely? Cause I mean, it's got to be hard to date in Hawkins. People here are shitty. Unless you've got like, a secret boyfriend or something."

"No...no secret boyfriend. It does get a little lonely sometimes. I'm lucky though, I've got my uncle, and my friends are pretty great. That's enough most days."

"What do you do when it's not enough?"

"Hmmm?"

"When your uncle and friends aren't enough, what do you do? To try and...make it better?"

Eddie is quiet again for a long stretch before he shrugs.

"I try to focus on something else. I'll play my guitar or work on a new campaign, read a book. Something to take my mind off it."

"Oh."

Now Steve is the one who seems tense, his jaw is tight and he's got his arms wrapped around himself. His next words come out as a whisper, but Eddie manages to catch them.

"I don't know how to do any of that."

He sounds almost choked, and Eddie is caught off guard. He's never seen Steve Harrington as anything other than solid, as happy. He's the king, after all. He's supposed to be all smiles and great hair. Only...Eddie's noticed that he hasn't hung out with his old friends lately, that he's eaten alone at lunch too many times to be anything other than strange.

"Steve...are you lonely?"

Eddie expects a denial, for Steve to laugh it off and tell Eddie that he's perfectly fine and fulfilled. Or maybe he expects a shrug, a non-answer. What he doesn't expect is the gut-wrenching sob that seems to tear past the other boys lips.

He doesn't expect to turn and see Steve Harrington's face, a scant foot from his, shining with tears.

He panics a little at the sight.

"Fuck- I'm so sorry-"

"Don't be." Steve tries to wipe his eyes, to hide the tremble in his voice. "Not your fault there's something wrong with me."

"What do you mean?"

"It's like I'm broken man, like nobody can stand to be around me. Tommy and Carol hate me now, Nancy- hell even my own parents hate being at home with me for more than a week. It's like I'm repellent or something. Couldn't even get a date to stick around for a whole night."

And Eddie's pretty sure *he* might start crying now. He'd never have expected this much from Steve, all that sadness to come pouring out. It wouldn't have happened if Steve was completely sober. Without thinking, he reaches out.

Eddie puts a hand on Steve's shoulder and waits to see if the touch gets rejected, but Steve seems to lean into him, so he lets his hand linger.

"This probably won't help, but I don't think you're repellent. And that's coming from somebody who your whole group used to torture. I don't know much about you, but I kind of liked having you around tonight."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Steve gives him a tiny smile. His eyes are still wet with tears, and the smile doesn't come close to reaching them. He seems impossibly small here in Eddie's bed.

"I don't know man. I just wish-"

He cuts himself off, apparently deciding his words are too far, but Eddie urges him to keep talking.

"What do you wish Steve?"

"I just wish that... there was somebody out there I could have a future with. Somebody who actually loved me, you know?"

It might be the saddest thing Eddie's ever heard, and he blames that fact for what he does next.

He takes his hand off Steve's shoulders and instead hauls Steve closer to him, fitting the other boy against his chest and wrapping his arms around him. It's a move that might get him decked, but he doesn't think it will. And he'll be damned if he doesn't hug Steve right that second.

He doesn't get hit. Steve tenses for a second, but it's just that one instant before he's melting into the embrace.

Eddie feels more tears falling against his shirt, and he couldn't care less. He keeps Steve close, let's him cry into his chest, runs a hand through that famous mop of hair.

He isn't sure how long it takes for Steve to calm down, but eventually he does. His breathing evens out, and he shivers a little before speaking.

"Thanks man."

And Eddie takes another leap of faith.

"I could be that person, you know."

"What?"

"I mean. You know Im... not straight. It may not be exactly what you're wanting but. I think I could picture a future with you. If you want to, just for tonight...I could be that someone who loves you."

Steve looks at Eddie, like he's a puzzle that he needs to solve, before a other shiver seems to wrack his body.

"Just for tonight?"

It comes out as a whisper, but Eddie hears it all the same.

"Yeah. For tonight Steve."

"I think...I think I'd like that."

Eddie gives him the sweetest smile he can muster, and nods.

"Alright sweetheart."

Eddie isn't exactly sure what it means, to love Steve for the night. After all, Steve is straight. He figures it doesn't matter much though, it's only for a night.

He keeps a hold on Steve, let's him get comfortable tucked against Eddie, and he does what feels natural. He runs a hand up and down Steve's spine, traces shapes into the soft fabric of his shirt. He tangles their legs together, and in a moment of insane bravery he presses a kiss to the top of Steve's head.

He's met with a sigh, full of relief, and figures he's on the right track.

"Just close your eyes Stevie, I've got you."

"Can you tell me about it?"

"Hmmm?"

"The future. You said you could see one. Can you tell me?"

And he asks so carefully, he sounds almost afraid, Eddie can't say no to that.

"Do you want the fantasy future, or the realistic future?"

"The real one."

"Alright then. Well, if I'm not going to be a rich and famous rockstar...I'll probably graduate and get a job somewhere in town. A real job, maybe working on cars or something. I'm good with cars. You'd come over all the time, have dinners with me and with Wayne. You'd have to meet Wayne. And we'd have more nights like this, sleeping close."

Steve let's out a pleased sounding hum, and shifts his face so it's buried even closer in Eddie's neck. He can feel Steve's breath on him.

"We could save up money and get a little place together, somewhere outside Hawkins. I have to stay kind of close, for my uncle, but maybe Indy?"

Steve nods, mutters something about staying close 'just in case'. He sounds like he might fall asleep, so Eddie keeps going.

"We could get an apartment, nothing too fancy. We would get two rooms, so nobody gets suspicious, but we would share a bed most nights. I'd play with my band on weekends, just for fun, and you'd join some little local sports team. I'd make sure to schedule DND nights so that I never miss a single game, even though I don't understand a damn thing about sports. We would come home for holidays, but most of the time it would just be us. I'd take good care of you, make sure you never go more than a few hours without me telling you I love you. I'll show up wherever you're working just to give you a hug and a kiss, and make sure you don't forget it. And I'll annoy the hell out of, but you won't mind too much, because I'll make you happy too."

Eddie can think of more. He can think about so many things. How he could give Steve one of his rings, even if they couldn't legally get married, even if Steve would never want that. Just as another reminder that he's loved. They could take trips together and go out to parties where Steve will never have to worry about getting ditched. Eddie doesn't do things halfway, and he has a hell of an imagination. He could picture them growing old together, if he tried, if he let himself. But this is just for tonight, so he doesn't. Instead he runs a hand through Steve's hair again, and listens to his quiet breathing. He thinks he may have fallen asleep, but he's wrong.

"That sounds nice."

It comes out muffled, spoken into Eddie's neck, but he manages to make it out, and he let's the vibration of it sink into his skin.

*It's only for tonight.*

He has to remind himself, because Steve is just feeling lonely. He doesn't want that future with Eddie, he just wants to feel loved.

But even if it's just pretend, just to help Steve for a few hours, he's okay with that.

Steve may think he's broken, but Eddie thinks he would be easy to love for a long time. Loving him for one night is nothing. He doesn't even have to try.

Tomorrow Steve will wake up sober, and he'll thank Eddie for letting him stay over, and they won't talk about it. Eddie will drive Steve back to his car in silence, and they'll say their goodbyes. They may not talk ever again, they never had before.

But for tonight? Eddie Munson will love Steve Harrington, and Steve? He'll let himself be loved, let himself beleive it. And he'll love Eddie right back.

Just for one night.

And if Steve ever needs it again? Eddie will love him for another night. And Steve will give that love right back. He's got plenty to spare, after all. And there's far worse people he could share it with.

#steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington whump #steve is sad #eddie helps #pre-season 4 #this takes place between seasons 2 and 3 #I wrote this in a fit of insanity while I was supposed to be working #hope yall like it

[kennahjune]

Steddie

I’m joining the s3 steddie train :D

…

Steve was late. He was so late and so dead. Robin was going to kill him— he’d never make it out of Scoops Ahoy alive.

This was his thought process after dropping Will Lucas and Max off at Mikes. This was also his thought process the entirety of the way to Scoops while he shoved his way through the mall.

The moment he entered the small shop Robins eyes locked on him in a glare. Steve barely gave her a second before he was going to the back room to get ready for his shift.

He heard the back room door open behind him.

“You’re—“

“24 minutes late I know,” he said as calmly as he could while trying to relax his breathing.

“Yeah and—“

“And you get an extra 25 minutes for your break, yes Robin I know!”

Steve finally closed his employee cubby and turned to look at Robin. “Look. Im sorry I was so late today but Will, Lucas and Max are assholes when they’re being petty and they needed a ride to Mikes cause all the others were busy! I’ll take closing shift today to if you’re really that mad.”

Robin stared at him angrily from the doorway. “Fine.” She uncrossed her arms. “And yes, you will be taking the closing shift tonight. I have a study date with a friend that I can’t miss.”

“It’s summer vacation?”

“Shut up!”

Steve shrugged when the door closed.

He closed the door to his employee locker with a little more force than necessary. He had a migraine building and the bright, florescent lights of the mall weren’t helping in the slightest.

He walked out and began his shift.

…

Eddie wanted to enjoy his day off. Preferably by himself. But Gareth and Jeff decided that his personal life was their personal life. So here they were.

He had wanted to spend the day away from the mall, considering that that was where everyone seemed to be nowadays. But the guys were insistent.

So they were walking around. It wasn’t too bad, considering Eddie had gotten himself a new record and tape with his newest paycheck. They were sitting at the fountain when Gareth shouted right in Eddie’s ear:

“HOLY SHIT!”

Eddie just about punched him with how hard he jumped. Jeff spit out his Pepsi all over Eddie.

While Eddie was worrying about getting the sticky drink off of his skin, Gareth continued with; “is that HARRINGTON in Scoops?”

Well. Now he has Eddie’s attention.

Sure enough, just in Eddie’s line of sight, was Steve Harrington in a sailors uniform and a dorky hat.

A dorky hat that was soon snatched up by his current customer, Billy Hargrove.

Jeff clapped him on the shoulder and leaned over him to get a better view. “Is that Hargrove?”

“Yep.” Eddie popped the P.

“It looks like he’s messing with Harrington.”

“Yep.” Another pop on the P.

“And Harrington looks like he’s gonna fucking explode.”

Eddie agreed. Harrington was red in the face and not in the cute blushy-way he usually gets (don’t ask why Eddie knows that). He was talking back to Hargrove, probably something bitchy and sarcastic in typical Harrington-fashion based on the way Hargrove seemed to recoil for a moment before jumping back.

“Should we do something?” Gareth asked skeptically. Jeff shrugged where he was pressed against Eddie’s back.

“I’m going in.” Eddie stood and nearly knocked Jeff down in the process.

“Hang on—“

“Nope! Wish me luck, boys!” Eddie yelled over his shoulder while he dashed over. He heard them both get up and follow him.

…

Steve wanted to cry.

His head hurt so fucking bad and his back was killing him and he had ran into a shelf earlier and had a killer bruise on his arm and leg from it and everything was too fucking much.

Then, in all his asshole and dick glory, in came Billy Hargrove.

At this point, Steve would rather take another plate to the head then have to deal with his annoyingly aggravating voice. Hargrove came in, probably expecting Robin to be there, but got Steve instead. And honestly Steve would rather deal with him then leave Robin with him.

So he’s been enduring it, giving his own comments and comebacks but overall hating his life and just wanting to curl up and die.

Then his savior showed up. In all his black leather and chains, Eddie fucking Munson.

Hallelujah.

Hargrove seemed to back down the moment Munson showed up. Which wasn’t too strange considering that Munson supplied over half of Hawkins’ weed supply. Including Steve’s own for a while. He hasn’t bought in a while cause of the brat brigade.

But not the point.

Hargrove nodded to Munson. “Munson.”

Wow. Real cool, Billy. Steve held back a snicker.

“Heeyyy, Hargrove!” Munson cheerily greeted. But there was something about his smile that was off, to Steve. It seemed tighter than usual, his eyes not crinkling with the motion like normal. Don’t ask why Steve knows this.

Munson’s eyes seemed darker, too. Like he was angry. Maybe Hargrove didn’t pay him? Steve couldn’t bother to care with how bad his head started to pound.

He shouldn’t be at work with this migraine. He knows that. His doctor’s told him this multiple times. But he owes it to Robin for being late so much and he needs to prove to his dad that he can take care of himself.

“So what brings you here, Billy?” Munson asks casually, stepping farther into the shop. Steve seems to finally be forgotten about, and he places his head down on the counter. The cooled surface definitely helps with the spinning room.

He hears Hargrove say something back, but he isn’t paying attention anymore. His eyes are stating to go blurry and he really needs to sit down. But then Munson says something that catches his attention:

“Just leave Harrington alone, man. Last I checked he did nothing to you.”

What the hell? Steve wished he could lift his head and see what Munson was doing. What he looked like when he said that. If he looked as mean as he sounded.

Steve only lifts his head a few moments later when he feels a hand on his back. He shoots up quicker than he intends, and nearly falls back down if not for the hands still holding him up.

“Shit,” he grumbles quietly to himself, whining even quieter at the sudden rush of pain and the black dots in his vision.

“Easy there, your highness.” Munson.

Steve blinks slowly, letting Munson set him down in a booth. He doesn’t remember walking over but he’ll take it. He puts his head back down and intertwines his fingers behind his head. He groans quietly again, the pounding slowly receding.

“Hey man, is there something we could do? Do you need anything?” He heard Munson ask.

We? Steve wants to ask, but finds himself not caring. “Water, and my bag from the back please,” he rasps out. Talking makes the pounding worse.

He hears someone rush off to the back and a moment later a hands on his back again and is helping him sit up.

“Here ya go sweetheart.” Munson slides the glass of water and bag over to him.

Steve silently reaches into his bag and pulls out his small “to-go” med-kit. He carries it around mainly for the kids. Mike tends to be clumsier than he comes off as and Max is always trying out some new skateboarding tricks. From inside the kit he pulls out a pill bottle and swallows 2 with the water and goes for another 2 before a hand stops him.

“I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to take more than 2.” This voice is new but familiar. Steve squints past the blurriness and makes out someone he recognizes from school; Gareth Emerson.

“4,” Steve manages past the lump in his throat. Munson, Emerson, and someone else Steve doesn’t quite know look at him. Munson continues to hold Steve’s hand on the table, rubbing his thumb over his knuckles. It weirdly intimate but the comfort is very welcome.

“4 what?” The other guy asks.

“4 pills. I usually take 4.”

Munson and Emerson both wince. The third guy looks at him like he’s insane. Steve finally recognizes him as Jeff,… something. He actually never got his last name.

“Dude— are you trying to overdose!?”

Steve winced at the sudden loudness, whining quietly. Munson shushed Jeff and Steve heard him rush out an apology.

The bell over the door dinged at that moment, and Steve found himself face to face with Max, Mike, Will, Lucas, and— for some reason— Jonathan.

“Uh— hi?” Steve attempted for a greeting.

“‘Hi!?’” Mike yelled. “Hi yourself man! We called your walkie at least 4 times!! What the hell?”

“Are you ok? Why didn’t you answer?” Will asked in a much quieter tone.

Lucas and Max wasted no time before slotting themselves in the booth with Steve. Munson remained across from Steve, and Emerson and Jeff now hovered farther away, but Lucas slid right in next to Munson and Max next to Steve.

“What the fuck, Harrington?” Max demanded. But she clung to his shirt tightly.

“Language, Mayfield,” he reprimanded quietly.

Mike paused where he stood. “Why are you talking so quietly? Shit— do you have a migraine?”

Suddenly 4 pairs of little eyes were gazing at him with unmasked concern. Holy shit was this overwhelming.

“Guys—“

“Why didn’t you say that, Steve?” Lucas asked.

“Are you ok? How long has it been going on for? Asked Will.

“Why are even here if you’re not able to function properly?” Mike reprimanded in his own caring-ness.

Max clutched to him tighter. “Why aren’t you at home? You could’ve called in sick or something!”

“Shhh!” Mike shushed her.

“Don’t shush me—“

“Shut up!” He whisper shouted. “You have to be quiet and try to control your temperature while resting in a dark, quiet room to try and help with migraines. Pain killers help to but no more than 3.”

Everyone stared at him. He went a little pink under the sudden attention.

“Nancy gets migraines a lot from reading in the dark.”

Jonathan came over right then. Steve was suddenly overwhelmed by all the people surrounding him.

“Uhm—“

“Hey,” Munson called. Steve forgot about him for a good moment. “This is cute and all, but maybe we should not surround him? Poor boy looks like he’s gonna cry.”

Everyone turned to look at him. Tears had— in fact— sprung to his eyes.

“Sorry!” All the kids rushed out quietly at the same time. Max climbed out of the booth and Munson and Jonathan both assisted with helping Steve to the break room. Jeff and Emerson stayed with the kids, but Mike came with them since he seemed to know what he was doing better than the 3 of them.

On their way back to the room though, Steve’s legs nearly gave out from under him. Shit. It’s one of those days. Munson just barely managed to catch him under the armpits while Jonathan got him by the waist.

“Woah there, sweetheart.” Munson grunted.

“Careful, Steve,” Jonathan said quietly.

“Sorry. Spinning.” Steve exhaled shakily.

Mike came rushing back after realized they weren’t with him. “Damn. Spinning? Are you able to walk? Or are they gonna have to carry you?”

Jonathan looked up at the mention of having to carry Steve. “Yeah— I’m not able to carry him. I am so not strong enough for that.” He had the decency to look apologetic.

Munson chuckled quietly and the sound reverberated through his chest where Steve’s head was. It was soothing.

“Don’t worry Big Byers. I’ve got him no problem.”

Steve was given no warning before he was being picked up in a bridal carry. He winced sharply and laid his head on Munson’s shoulder. Jonathan whistled lowly from somewhere beside them and Steve blindly kicked his leg in his direction, scoring in kicking him in the arm. Jonathan snickered.

…

When Munson chased off Hargrove he didn’t expect for Harrington to all but collapse in on himself and try to fucking overdose on like 5 pain killers. He also hadn’t expected to be bombarded by 4 kids and 1 Jonathan Byers. Least of all did he expect to be carrying Harrington bridal style to the break room of Scoops Ahoy.

Somewhere behind him, Gareth turned the sign on the door to closed. Eddie silently thanked him.

The kid— who he vaguely remembers as Nancy Wheeler’s younger brother— opens the door and startles a half asleep Robin Buckley.

“Hello,” Jonathan throws her way before pulling a chair out for Eddie to sit on.

“Uh— hi? What the hell—“

Eddie takes the seat with Harrington in his lap. Robin looks dumbfounded.

“Migraine,” Jonathan helpfully supplies.

“Really, really bad migraine. Vertigo included. Full package tonight, folks.” Mike adds.

“Ok— um, is he ok? He doesn’t look ok. If it was so bad why didn’t he just call in sick?”

“That’s a good question,” Mike retorts quietly while rooting around in a freezer.

“What are you looking for”, Robin asks.

“Ice pack. The dumbass has everything in that first aid kit of his except a damn ice pack.”

“Language,” Harrington reprimanded quietly from where his cheek was against Eddie’s chest. Eddie chuckled quietly when Mike retorted with a half-assed “sorry”.

Eddie couldn’t help but admire the now sleeping Harrington in his lap. He bent in half like a shrimp, his knees just about to his chest, and his hands gripping tightly onto Eddie’s still-Pepsi-soaked t-shirt. But he looked so at peace while asleep. Like he hadn’t just had the worst migraine Eddie’s ever seen and wasn’t just about to pass out on his feet. Eddie smiled.

Mike comes over silently, managing to sneak up on Eddie and make him jump slightly and causing Harrington to whine. He’d been whining a lot today. And under “different circumstances” Eddie would’ve found it hot as fuck.

“Sorry,” Mike whispered. He seemed to be able mellow out a lot when he actually tried. He seemed like such an asshole out at the booth but now he seems quieter. These kids really cared about Harrington, huh?

“Here.” Jonathan helped him out and gently picked up Harrington’s head. Eddie caught Harrington actually kind of leaning into his touch. A strange but endearing friendship. Mike placed the ice pack— now wrapped in a cloth— on Eddie’s chest where Harrington’s head lays.

Harrington lays back down and is out like a light soon enough.

Eddie zoned out until there’s a very, very soft knock on the door. When he looks up, Jonathan is letting the other 3 kids in while Jeff and Gareth stand in the doorway.

“Is he ok?” Asks Jonathan’s little brother.

Jonathan nods and pats his head. “He’s ok, Will.”

The redhead walks over and takes a silent seat next to Eddie so she’s next to Harrington. She takes Harrington’s hand in hers and proceeds to just sit there and hold it.

“He’s ok, Max. Just a migraine,” the third kid, Lucas he thinks, reassures with a hand on Max’s shoulder.

“That’s what he said before. And then he was in the hospital.”

Woah, what?

“Hm?” Lucas looks at him.

Oh. He said that aloud.

“Wait what?” Robin asked quietly.

Jonathan’s whistled lowly. It seems to be a bit of a tic for him. “Yeah uh— funny story. Hargrove broke a plate over Steve’s head last year and nobody realized how bad it actually was until he passed out after claiming it was only a migraine.”

“He ended up in the hospital for like 2 weeks,” added Lucas.

“He needed several stitches on the side of his head.” Max unhappily supplied. Lucas squeezed her shoulder.

“It was a stage 4 concussion,” muttered Will and Mike put his head on his shoulder.

Eddie caught Gareth and Jeff’s eyes across the break room. Huh.

The Will kid came up to Eddie suddenly. “Thank you. For uh— helping with Steve. It means a lot to us. He means a lot to us.”

Mike, Max, and Lucas all nodded.

“Hang on,” Lucas piped up. “Who are you?”

…

So uh— set myself up for a part 2 there :’D

Part 2

#stranger things #steve harrington #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #eddie munson #robin buckley #will byers #max mayfield #lucas sinclair #jonathan byers #nancy wheeler #corroded coffin #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie hcs #steddie fics #steddie #steve harrington whump #steve harrington gets killer migraines #the boy has 3 and counting concussions

[salamandergoo]

Steve Harrington is the kind of guy who will share a story from his childhood, thinking it’s funny, but it was actually the most devastating thing anyone has ever heard. He does not understand why no one else is laughing.

#steve harrington #stranger things #steddie #it’s going in the steddie tag because I think about them constantly #steve harrington whump