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wynnyfryd · 2 days

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Trailer park Steve AU part 62

part 1 | part 61 | ao3

cw: violence, off-hand mentions of drug use

Light bleeds through the cracks in the boathouse walls. Max is the one who found it, spotted the glowing bulb over the door and called them down the slope behind the house to check it out, and now Steve leads the group inside and clings to his nail bat in a way he hopes is reassuring but is probably just putting everyone else on edge.

Can’t really be helped, though.

Place gives him the creeps.

It's dark and dank, overwhelmingly humid, with a smell like mildew and old food over a layer of fear sweat, and the wood groans beneath their feet while the walls sway with the breeze. Makes it feel like the room is breathing, like they're standing inside of a haunted lung.

Steve braces himself in the middle of the room, head on a swivel while the group fans out around the edges, dipping in and out of shadow. Dustin calls for Eddie. Max checks the latch on a window. Robin points her flashlight at a pile of food wrappers and says, "This looks new."

Steve flexes his fingers on the bat; picks up an oar, too, just to be safe.

"What?" Dustin snorts. "You gonna dual-wield against your boyfriend?"

Steve rolls his eyes. "He's not my—"

"—Ex-boyfriend, then, whatever. Still can't believe you never told me about that."

“Okay,” Steve huffs. Dustin’s grumpy muttering sounds more hurt than he’s letting on, but he’s letting on plenty, and Steve’s too keyed up to do this right now. “Can we just—” He gestures around the room with the oar to illustrate how completely not the time for this it is. “Can we not?"

"No,” Dustin protests, voice rising, “no, we can't not, Steve, because you—" He steps into Steve’s space, jabbing a finger against his sternum and backing him up to the edge of a tarp-covered boat. "—are a liar. You have been lying to me for months! And now it looks like you're gearing up to try and bludgeon my good friend with two blunt objects!"

"Shut up!” Steve snaps. He takes a deep breath; lifts the blunt objects in question, giving them a little shake. “First of all, it's not the boyfriend I'm worried about using these on, and secondly—"

He doesn't get to finish that sentence.

He doesn’t get to plant his feet.

With a noise like a war cry, something blue blurs at the edge of Steve’s periphery and launches him across the room, shoving him backward over tarps and tackle boxes until his back slams against the wall and knocks the wind out of him, and his skull smacks the wood and sets off a snow storm in his vision — muffled ringing in his ears, tornado warning wailing through a thick layer of cotton. Steve’s friends are all shouting, and there’s something sharp against his throat, and someone is barking questions at him; hot, stale breath over his chin; a fist balled up in the front of his shirt.

“Are you real?” the voice demands, hand twisting in Steve’s collar and tugging him against the sharp thing. “ARE YOU REAL?”

Steve blinks. Blinks and sways into the sharp sting beneath his jaw until the dizzy spell ends.

The scene before him comes into focus slowly.

Steve thinks, for the millionth time that day, that he must be losing his mind. That he must have lost it already.

The blurry, shouting thing is Eddie. Eddie, who is glassy-eyed and drooling like a wild animal, who is pinning Steve to a splintered wall with a shattered bottle to his throat; whose face floods Steve with such intensely euphoric relief that he thinks he finally gets why people do hard drugs.

Even now, even like this, the only thought in Steve’s head is how lovely Eddie's face is.

How grateful he is to see it again, even if it might be the last thing he ever sees.

Beside them, Dustin speaks in low, placating tones, holding out his hands and encouraging Eddie to back off. Promising that Steve’s not gonna hurt him, that they’re all just here to help as Eddie’s eyes slip over and past Steve and his body tenses for the kill.

“Not real, not real, not real,” Eddie mumbles, spit shining on his shaking lip.

The bottle knicks Steve’s skin.

“Eddie!” Dustin begs. Max and Robin's eyes are huge. And Steve—

Steve laughs. A soft, hysterical thing, barely voiced, because of course Eddie’s going to kill him. Of course he is.

He’s already been doing it for weeks.

"What happened to your knife?" he jokes wetly, tipping his head back to bare his throat.

The question snaps Eddie back to himself. Steve watches from under his damp lashes as Eddie's eyes sharpen on him, darting all over his face with sudden, painful awareness, with something dangerously close to hope.

The hand holding the bottle trembles. "...Baby?" Eddie whispers, wet eyes searching still.

Steve holds his gaze. Nods against the jagged edge.

Glass shatters on the floor as Eddie collapses into him.

—

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#trailer park steve au #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #dustin henderson #max mayfield #my writing #my fic

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wittyminds · 3 days

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More Than A Feeling

This was just a random idea to distract me from revising for my exams. I'm slightly obsessed with him at the moment and just wanted to write some fluff that would make me even more sad than i already am. I know I also said that I would be doing a bucky barnes fic but... i got distracted and now can't commit to writing it. I'll probably write it eventually but i can't bring myself to do it right now.

I was also listening to More Than A Feeling by Boston when writing this so... it stuck.

Just a small fic of Steve Harrington and a bookworm reader girlfriend who is also Dustin's sister after their first time and the "chaos" that ensues.

Warnings: Fluff fluff fluff, Suggestive, Both Steve's and Reader's 'first time'

Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

Dustin couldn't understand how it all happened or exactly when you stopped disliking the King of Hawkins but he was convinced it would all end in heartbreak. He did like Steve Harrington after he protected them all from all the dangers they had faced over the years. But dating his sister was a different matter.

To say he is overprotective of you would be an understatement.

You had spent your entire life protecting him from bullies and assholes and now it was his turn to keep you from the possible heartbreak that was Steve Harrington.

So when he peaked through the door to your room and saw the two of you curled round each other fast asleep, he couldn't help but feel upset and scared for you. It clearly wasn't the first time Steve had snuck through the window without anyone but you knowing and the thought brought disgust to his gut. He had invited his friends round as your parents were away. He now regretted the idea and wished he had agreed when Mike suggested his house instead.

He wasn't being dramatic, he had every right to believe that you could end up like all the other girls.

Before he could wake you both up, though, his friends had pulled him back and disappeared back into his room to discuss what they had just seen.

Steve, on the other hand, couldn't be happier.

Your head rests on his chest, arms wrapped round his body. A sheet covers you and he brings his hand up and down your arm gently as he gazes at you asleep. He has been like this since he woke up to see you curled round him, hair a mess, no makeup on and breathing softly onto his bare chest.

What had happened the night before had surprised you both, if he was quite honest with himself. He had been ready from the second date with you but you had made it clear that you wanted to wait. He had thought he was ready when he dated Nancy but when the time came, he froze and ruined the moment.

But now, here you were snuggled up close with memories of the night before playing through your dreams as your boyfriend watches over you lovingly. He can't remember ever loving anyone as much as he loves you and all he wants is to tell you, and keep you by his side till the day he dies.

Just as his hand stops grazing your arm, you roll over off of him and wriggle onto your side, still facing him. Your lips pull up into a brief smile before dropping again. He shifts his body onto his side too and props his head onto his arms, watching as your eyebrows pull together and your eyes flutter open slowly.

A huge grin falls onto his lips as you look up groggily with a bashful smile.

"Morning, beautiful." His voice is still husky from sleep and a thousand butterflies take flight in your stomach.

"Morning." You rub a hand over your eyes to try and wake up properly, to no avail.

"I was gonna make breakfast, if you're hungry." He lifts his head off his arm to give you a playful look that is sleepily returned.

He gets up from the bed and tries to track down his trousers and socks before perching on the edge of the bed to give you a soft kiss that lingers longer than usual.

His blushing face then leaves your eyesight and you roll onto your back with a disbelieving laugh, quickly covering your mouth to stifle it.

You were still questioning how the two of you were even together, total opposites from different sides of the school. The King and a bookworm.

You suppose, in a weird way, you could thank the horrors that you had both witnessed over the past two years for bringing you together. But you don't want to give the Upside-Down any credit for your happiness given it was a hell like no other.

You can still remember how much you had disliked him at first, the way he acted, the way he spoke to people, the way he made you feel about yourself. His "friends" had given you hell for years and when he had finally stood up to them and broken up with Nancy, you had seen the better version of Steve Harrington who laughed and smiled and actually cared without any fear of being judged.

As you lie on your back, you cans still feel the gentle press of his hands on your skin, hear the whispered words "Are you sure?". Still feel his face buried in the crook of your neck, hear the hushed laughter when he first appeared over you with a bashful "Hello."

It couldn't have been more perfect and you could smile forever in your new bliss.

You wrestle your way out of the warmth of the bedsheets, grabbing the closest article of clothing to you: his navy sweater from yesterday. The sleeves fall over your hands and you bunch it up in fists as you open the door and walk into the hallway.

Dustin's door is still closed and you creep past, so as not to wake him. He wouldn't quit poking fun at you or Steve if he saw you now so it was better to be safe than sorry to leave him sleeping in. It was the holidays anyway.

You're suddenly startled by the sound of pots and pans crashing against each other, followed by the sound of a terribly hidden string of curses as whoever spilled the contents of the cupboard tried (and failed) to catch them.

When you reach the kitchen door, you can see Steve busy at the stove, pots and pans sitting haphazardly on the counter and floor. Without a word, you lean against the doorframe, arms crossed, and watch him attempt to work the stove. A smile plays on your lips and eventually, you clear your throat quietly to get his attention.

He whips round, only to notice that it's you.

"Morning... again." You murmur softly, still smiling.

God, it was like you slept with a hanger in your mouth or something.

"Morning," He turns away as his cheeks blush bashfully, and you can't help but feel warmth at the thought of making Steve Harrington blush. The thought nearly turns your legs to jelly and you walk over to the stove to keep them working.

You swat his hands away from the buttons with a laugh and stand in his place to turn the stove on, hearing his almost silent "Oh." as you show him how to work it.

His arms snake their way round your middle and his chin falls onto your shoulder, your face heating at the contact. He places soft kisses on your shoulder, then your neck, and you run your hands along his forearms.

"Steve." You feel him hug you tighter at his name and his hum of acknowledgement is disguised by another kiss, "Last night..."

You trail off and he laughs against your neck, moving away to turn you round. His nose scrunches as your hands move to the ends of his hair out of habit and he sways slightly.

"Yeah?" You can tell he's wanting you to talk more and you repress a sigh.

"I just wanted to say I..." You can't seem to finish the sentence as you gaze into his eyes, the whole scene perfectly homely. You didn't want to ruin it with a love confession that might be rejected.

He watches you with curious smirk and you open your mouth to speak again but he cuts you off with a sweet, slow kiss.

Your hands move further into his hair and his pull you closer by the waist. More memories of meaningful kisses and the whispered confessions whilst pressed close together from last night resurface in your mind. The feeling of his hands, his lips, just his touch made your head spin and your forehead falls onto his, not breaking the kiss.

"Oh come on!"

Your brother's voice startles you both and you break apart, Steve keeping a hold of your waist.

Dustin stands in the doorway, his friends lingering in the hallway, awkwardly watching the scene playing out. You feel your face burn and turn to your boyfriend for help, but he seems entirely unfazed.

"A bit of privacy wouldn't kill you, Henderson." Steve grumbles, ignoring the disgust on Dustin's face.

"I live here." Dustin replies matter-of-factly, crossing his arms.

"And..?" You can't help but hold back a laugh at your boyfriend's oblivion and he pulls a face at you which lets the laughter escape.

Dustin pulls a different kind of face, "Well, when you two are finished grossing everyone out, I'd like some pancakes."

You roll your eyes and walk over to him, placing your hands on his shoulders to turn him round. He begins to protest but gives up when you give him a sharp pinch on either side.

"Just go upstairs and do whatever it is you do together there," You give him your most serious look you can muster with a stomach full of butterflies.

"Fine," He stomps up the stairs, "But I'm serious about those pancakes!"

You watch his friends follow him up, quickly noticing the two girls and yell up a quick "Leave the door open!" before turning to return to the kitchen.

Max stops and gives you a look that makes you freeze and eye her curiously.

"Yes?" You ask quietly.

"I was just thinking that the sweater is real subtle." Her eyes move along the sweater and you shift uncomfortably under them.

"I-I don't know what you mean..."

She snorts out a laugh and runs up the stairs.

"Nice hickey, by the way!" She yells after her and you throw a shoe up the stairs that hits her legs.

"Teenagers." You mutter under your breath and turn back to the kitchen to see Steve leaning against the counter, a smirk playing on his pretty lips.

"Want to tell me what's going on in that head of yours, Harrington?" Your voice is quiet and he closes the distance between the two of you in four long strides.

His thumb grazes your chin, pushing your face up to his before he kisses you again, a contented sigh escaping him. Once again, your hands find his messy hair and he grips the sweater with a little more power than before.

"God, I love you." His words are almost hidden against your lips but you freeze and pull away slightly, out of breath from both the kiss and his confession.

A blush creeps up his face and you can't help but smile before giving him another quick peck on his lips, relief filling you.

How can you have thought this man didn't love you enough to say it when he had blushed and grinned the entire morning. You love him to Jupiter and back a thousand times and realise, you had always really known he feels the same.

So, when the words leave your mouth and leave him a blushing mess, you can't help but know that this is your future.

You and him.

"I love you too."

***

A/N

I really hope you liked it and just a reminder that my requests are open via messages so just ping me a message if you have a request for any of the characters from my first post. Thank you! xx

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