#steve harrington ficlet

[shares-a-vest]

Wayne shuffles to the door, desperate to answer the incessant knocking that sounds like whoever is on the other side is going to beat the exterior fly screen straight off its hinges. He is greeted by Claudia Henderson, clutching her handbag strap tight across her chest and looking very serious.

Although it might just be his sleep-deprived inability to gauge the emotions of chipper 9-to-5 receptionists who wear cosy sweaters. He checks his watch. He’s only been asleep for about an hour after getting home from night shift - what with waiting for Hurricane Eddie to finally head off for the garage.

“Hello, Wayne,” Claudia nods and purses her lips.

He scrubs a hand over his face but steps back nonetheless to let her in. Claudia is one step in the doorway anyhow.

“Coffee,” he not-so-much asks as he moves to the kitchen.

“No, thank you,” Claudia says politely, “I usually wait for my morning tea break.”

He looks over to find her pulling out his assigned chair at the breakfast table. She looks nervous, if a little pissed off as she gathers her handbag up on her lap. He blinks harshly and pinches his nose enough to press his forefinger and thumb into the inner corners of his eyes. He really needs to wake the hell up a little more, it appears.

“What did Eddie do?” he sighs, looking over the drying rack on the sink for one of the mugs he has in his rotation at the present time.

“Oh, Eddie hasn’t done a thing!” she insists, a smile evident in her voice, “I’m here about Steve.”

Cubs mug it is then...

He frowns again and turns back to Claudia, confused. And the woman looks like she was expecting such a reaction because she huffs and straightens up, looking like she is readying herself to give a sermon on the kid.

“I need you to help me convince that boy to move in with Dustin and me,” she explains, promptly holding up a defensive hand, “Now, I know he stays here, mostly This isn’t about anything to do with you… Or Eddie…”

She tacks that last mention of his nephew on with a tone and a knowing look.

Wayne clears his throat. It’s certainly far too early in the morning for the ins and outs of that conversation. He flicks the kettle on to drown out the awkward silence between them.

“Have you uh...” he hums and scratches the back of his neck as he searches for words, “Have you talked with him about this, at all?”

Claudia squeaks out a noise he assumes is a negative as he quickly spoons coffee into his mug. He’ll settle for black coffee for now - he really cannot be assed to stand up for much longer, even if he did have the sense to quickly step into his comfy slippers when Claudia came a-pounding on the door.

“And you want my help specifically?” he says, raising his voice above the steaming kettle that is whistling away in boiling readiness.

“Yes!”

He waves a hand in the air, “Well, what about Robin?”

“Oh, gosh, no! I can’t talk to that girl,” he barks a laugh that makes Claudia startle in her seat, forcing her to clarify, “I mean she is a steel trap about that boy!”

Wayne smirks and nods as he heads for the table with his piping hot - and hopefully, heavily caffeinated - beverage, “He’s not the biggest talker when it comes to himself.”

“I’m not one to speak ill of other mothers,” Claudia says in a hushed tone, “God knows, I am not perfect. But where are his parents?”

She rocks a little with each word like she has needed to ask that question for a good long while. Of course, Wayne thinks about Steve’s parents. A lot. Because the boy almost never mentions them.

He shrugs, “He says they stayed away on business.”

“After everything that has happened in this town?” she argues, voice growing shrill with worry, “Did he tell you what actually happened with the mall fire? It was more of that other dimension nonsense!”

He almost chokes on his coffee. He knows a little - there was no way around it with Eddie in the hospital surrounded by all those secret nurses and doctors. But he didn’t know Claudia Henderson knew about some of it too. Still, he decides to remain cautious and gestures for her to continue.

“And he’s been concussed more times than he can remember!”

She slumps back in her seat with a look of such horror, Wayne thinks the sweet woman sitting opposite him considers it her closing argument.

Wayne taps on the rim of his coffee cup. They would have to tread carefully, not ambush the kid.

“He does get a lot of migraines - ” is all he can think to say.

“ - And he has dizzy spells,” Claudia cuts in, leaning forward. He can see tears starting to well up, “I just want him to be looked after. I know he’s a young man with his own life and everything, but he still needs a parent to care for him, to support him.”

“Yeah,” Wayne nods firmly, “Yes, he does.”

#wayne and claudia to the rescue #i feel like i'm writing a vaguely connected henderson-munson plus steve found family thing #but it's all separated into ficlets??? #idk if i should put it all together??? #wayne munson #claudia henderson #steve harrington #steve harrington ficlet #stranger things #steddie #steddie ficlet #lilys ficlets #claudia henderson 🐈

[steddieasitgoes]

Steve owning a sphynx cat who is antisocial and always hides when he has people over at his house to the point where people don’t even know he has a cat. Cue Eddie screaming in terror when she makes her presence known on a random Saturday in December.

Steve scolds him for yelling because he’ll startle Princess and Eddie looking at Steve with astonishment, going: “That thing is not a Princess. It’s an abomination! It looks like Gollum!”

Princess hisses before strutting over to where Steve sits on the couch and cuddles up on his chest. And Steve just looks at Eddie like: “She’s my princess if you have a problem with her there’s the door.”

Obviously Eddie’s not stupid enough to walk out on Steve over a damn cat but he’s not exactly thrilled about sharing him with the hairless monstrosity staring at him.

Jokes on him though because within two weeks he and Princess are best friends, always napping together much to Steve’s chagrin. “Guess she likes me better, Stevie.”

“Yeah because you’re both heathens!”

#I saw a video of a hairless cat and here we are #steddie #steddie fic #steddie dicker #steddie Drabble #Steve Harrington #Steve Harrington ficlet #Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson ticket #stranger things #stranger things fic #Dani writes

[hellfire--cult]

- Stop worrying and do it 💧

steve harrington x reader

+18 smut, fingering, squirting, overstimulation, soft steve to softdom steve, fluff

You finally get steve to be all yours after two successful dates... but he is a bit worried about the size of... his hands.

i couldn't help myself after the new pictures of joe keery with his hands out. mother fucker has king kong digits.

anyways enjoy.

You were a patient person. You really were, but you wanted to jump Steve’s bones after matching with him on Tinder. He was so perfect and good-looking, and when the two of you went on the first date? He was such a gentleman, and it only made him even hotter. You were certain he was not into doing stuff on the first date except for a kiss.

The kiss was full of passion, and tenderness, and you wanted to press yourself against him, climb over the console in order to straddle him. He had taken you home, and he was the one to make a move first, but you had to hold yourself back and try not to seem desperate.

Even if you were.

Now on the second date, the food was amazing, his soft kisses while outside the restaurant were enough to ignite a fire in you that you never felt before. The heat between your legs became too great, feeling the stickiness in your underwear. You whispered to him to take you home and he completely understood the double meaning of it.

The two of you had gotten to your home, kissing through the doorway, taking each other’s clothes off as you walked towards your room, which you tidied up just in case this were to happen, hopefully. His tongue swirled inside your mouth as moans escaped your lips when his impatient hands ran under your shirt, gracing your skin. 

Your eyes almost opened in surprise when you felt his fingers skillfully, and in one move, snapped your bra open. A gasp escaped your lips while a chuckle escaped his and into your mouth. Your hands ran through his hair as you pulled him closer and closer to you, body flushing on his, as you kept moving towards the bed. 

You pulled away, breathing heavily, and turned him around in order to push him onto your bed, surprising him but a chuckle escaped his lips, pushing himself deeper onto the bed, only to choke up as you pulled your shirt and bra off in one move. He was trying to keep his composure but lost it when you got on all fours to crawl over him with a grin on your face, biting your bottom lip.

His pants were straining him, painfully so, and he moved quickly to at least take his shirt off so you weren’t the only one half-dressed here, ever the gentleman. Your eyes sparkled with lust, as you inspected his chest. Hair in the right amount, and pecs slightly formed that expanded whenever he breathed out. You licked your lips as you straddled him as he sat up to wrap his arms around you, bringing his mouth to yours again.

Your hips started rolling onto his bulge, making him moan in between the kiss, and you only whimpered whenever the friction of his jeans rubbed against your core, and it was incredible you could feel him even through your own pair of jeans. It was the right amount of pressure against your clit, and you knew you were soaking through all the fabric that was covering you.

Your lips moved with his, hands tangling with eachother’s, desperately ripping one another’s clothes off. You both needed to see eachother’s bodies, see what they were about to taste. You bit your lips when he hovered over you, already licking and sucking onto your right nipple as he rubbed himself against your clothed pussy. 

He was leaking precum and probably staining his boxers, but he couldn’t care less at this point, he needed to be inside of you. He didn’t want to seem like he was there for only this, because he really liked you. You were funny, charming, freaky, and you had your own spark. He wanted to know more about you, crazy to think that after just two dates, you had caught his attention. A lot.

You weren’t far behind, you liked Steve. He had opened doors for you, he didn’t let you pay on the first date, but accepted the split check in this one, letting you feel independent of some sort. He didn’t make you feel like you needed a man to pay everything for you, or do everything, and you were grateful for that. He wasn’t trying too much, but he was doing just right for you.

And he was so handsome. Oh, that was the first thing you noticed in the Tinder pictures. How is this man single you thought at that time. You were drawn to everything, his eyes, his hair, his lips, his fucking freckles, his clothing style, and in the picture where he played his guitar… his hands.

Those hands that are roaming all over your body now, hands that are manly, big, with veins all over, and you salivated everytime you saw when the glass was engulfed by his fingers. You wanted him so bad, so you couldn’t wait for one more date, and it seems he couldn’t either.

You felt him move, letting your nippled go with a pop, so he could be hovering over you but on the side so he could run his hand downwards towards your clothed cunt. You bit your lip with excitement and anticipation and you jerked when you felt him rub onto your clit, slow and in small circles. 

“You’re so wet already, fucking hell…” You heard his mumble, almost a grunt, making you smile in your bliss as he kept doing small circles against you, making your hips move upwards into his touch for more, but he was teasing you so it seemed, not doing what you wanted.

“Stevie~” You purred out in warning that you didn’t want to be teased, you were too turned on right now to be played with. He chuckled at your eagerness, giving a soft kiss on your neck so he could move to take your underwear off, sighing with bliss as he looked at your pussy.

If it weren’t for the fact his dick was killing him right now from how hard it was, he would have eaten you out with no hesitation, because that is the prettiest cunt he’s ever seen in his life. He will have to save it for next time, hopefully there is a next time. He returned to his previous position, kissing your neck as he returned to rub circles on your clit, a little faster than before, just a little.

You needed more, you wanted those fingers inside of you, but when you raised your hips for more he backed up. You were a patient person… you had to remind yourself you are patient. You moaned his name in order to catch his attention and he only mumbled on your neck as he kept sucking on it.

“Hmm? What do you need baby?”

“F-Fingers– Fingers– Inside please…” And you could feel him tense up a bit, his movement stopping for just a second before he started again. It felt good, it was feeling good, but why isn’t he doing more? You needed more because your body was getting hotter and hotter and what he was doing was not enough. “S-Steve–”

“Yeah?” He mumbled on your skin again, and you raised your hips towards his hand only for him to move with your hips and not against it. You plopped on the bed with a whine, making him stop and raise his head in order to look at you. “What’s–”

“Get your fingers inside of me!” 

You couldn’t be any more blunt. You were afraid you were going to have to spell it out to him, but you were frustrated and needy and what you’ve been wanting him to do since you saw his Tinder profile, he isn’t doing. You saw how his body tensed, pulling his hand away from in between your legs and you groaned in displeasure at that.

“I um…” You could see he was nervous, making you have a little bit more empathy for the guy, only for your eyes to widen, your hands covering your mouth in shock.

“Oh my god, are you a virgin? Oh, fuck, shit, I didn’t– I didn’t know–” At your rambling, Steve only laughed, shaking his head, letting your nerves calm down a little bit more.

“I am not, sweetheart, don’t worry… It’s just… the last girl I’ve been with told me that–” He showed his large hand to you, the one that had been touching you before and you felt your mouth salivate again. “My fingers hurt her.”

Your eyes snapped open in surprise and you looked at him. What?

“I’m sorry… what?” You were surprised, to say the least, because if she claimed his hands are big– “What about your dick? Didn’t that hurt her?”

“Shit, you are straightforward.” He chuckled at that and shook his head. “I didn’t get to have sex with her, but honestly it might have made me a twinge, a smudge, a bit conscious.”

You looked at his hand again and you wanted to prove to him how much you wanted those fingers inside of you. That girl probably was a tight ass making her a prude, because who wouldn’t want these fingers? You bit your lip and grabbed his hand, taking your tongue out in order to drag it base to top on his index and middle finger.

His eyes widened at your action, his dick kicking up again in his boxers and you felt the twitch because it was pressed onto your thigh, making you chuckle as your eyes found his.

“I want these fingers inside of me. Make me cum with your fingers, please Stevie~?”

And oh shit, he was going to comply. He took the opportunity to introduce his fingers slowly into your mouth, and you took them with a smile on your face. He was lubricating them with your saliva as he pumped them in and out of your mouth. He groaned as you moaned and the vibrations were sent to his digits.

He pulled them out of your mouth and leaned down to press a hot kiss on your lips, pulling away with his forehead against yours, his breath hitting your face as he talked.

“Tell me if it hurts.” You nodded at his command, your belly burning with need again as your hips looked for friction. He guided his hand downwards and he coated his middle and index fingers with your slick, going up and down in between your folds. He wanted more lubrication, just in case.

He licked his lips as he kept staring at you to see your facial movements just to make sure you weren’t lying. He slowly started getting his middle finger inside of you, and your mouth fell into a soundless moan. 

One finger, and it was a nice lovely stretch. It was so good, you couldn’t even imagine how two would feel like, what three could possibly make you do. You wanted him to move faster and you moved your hips against his hand, and finally, he pushed forward instead of backwards like before. 

He started pumping his single digit as your moans started having some sound, and he was deep, oh he was so deep. You smiled in bliss at the sensation and your hips started going in sync with his thrusts. He groaned at the squelching sounds, knowing he made you so wet that it was provoking it to happen. 

“It’s so good Steve, oh god, more, more–” Steve bit his lip as he joined his index finger to the mix and your eyes widened at the different stretch. It was fucking delicious. Your belly was burning in need and your moans began to feel choked as he went deeper and deeper with his new finger.

His tempo increased, the squelching now becoming obscene as your back arched upwards, letting him have free access to your nipple. He leaned to take it into his mouth, his teeth biting on it and pulling and well, that was new. He didn’t do that before and you needed him to do it again.

You moaned his name loudly as he bit and pulled again, feeling his fingers going in and out of you as your hips met his thrusts, only to then throw your head back as you cried out in ecstasy. He had curled his fingers and he was hitting your G-Spot perfectly. No person has ever made you feel the way this man is doing right now. He was taking care of you. No one ever cared to do so before.

You could hear him chuckle as your legs trembled, your juices coming out already from how wet you were as you breathed moans out of your lips, his name being in a mumbled mess of noises.

“You like that sweetheart?” You nodded dumbly and your eyes widened when he pressed his hand roughly against you, making his fingers go way deeper than before, and he stayed there, wiggling the first knuckle inside of you. “I asked you something baby.”

Oh… if you couldn’t be more hooked on this guy, you definitely were now.

“It feel– feels good– So good–” You managed to choke out and the pressure left you, but his fingers kept pumping inside of you, the bed of his palm pressing every so often against your clit, causing the soft touch to send shivers and electricity all over your body.

The coil in your belly started to turn, and your legs and body began to shake. You smiled in between your moans as you were finally reaching your climax, your first climax.

“You close darling?” You nodded dumbly at that, muttering a small ‘uh-huh’ and it was there, it was making your belly shrink, your pussy pulse, and then– he stopped. Everything. You opened your eyes alarmingly and you looked at him in question.

“W-Why? I was– I was so close Steve!” You whined in frustration as you tried to move your hips in order to get friction once more, only for your chin to be grabbed roughly so you could look at him again. 

“I have one goal now. And I will reach it, so hold it in honey.”

You didn’t know why he was doing this, not only he edged you this time, but again, and again, and you had tears in your eyes already, and at one point he had changed hands and he was still skilled with his non-dominant one. Your body was aching from all the trembles he imposed on you, and you were sure you weren’t going to be able to handle anymore of it. 

“Please– Please Steve, let me cum, let me cum, please!” You were begging him, almost crying pathetically and he chuckled, pressing a kiss to your neck as his fingers rested inside of you, palm resting on your clit as he rubbed it on you, making you moan from the feeling.

“I think you’re ready for that.” And he returned to thrusting his fingers in and out of you, curling upwards and it felt so sore. Everything was overstimulated, your clit, your pussy, your insides, absolutely everything, but he said you would get to cum now, so you were eagerly enjoying his ministrations.

Only to then feel a coil in your belly again, but this time it was a very different one. It felt almost painful, on your belly and going downwards. It felt very weird, something you hadn’t experienced before, but maybe it was because you were sore? Or the edging? But–

“S-Steve, something weird– Something– Oh god…” Your mind was blurry suddenly, his tempo increased at a speed he hadn’t done all night, saving it for last. He rubbed onto your G-Spot repeatedly making your tears fall from your eyes as moans escaped your throat as well as whimpers and cries of his name.

“Yeah? Then fucking cum for me baby, it’s gonna feel so good, cum…” And fuck, you couldn’t think, you couldn’t speak, but it felt so powerful, almost as if you were going to pass out.

“Steve– I feel like I’m gonna–” You can’t finish the sentence, too embarrassed to do so, but it felt as if you were going to pee yourself. He only smirked at that, knowing what was going to happen, and he only did this once in his life, and since you were so eager for his fingers, he might as well take the chance to engrain himself in your mind.

“Let go. Let fucking go.” 

And your eyes widened as your hips went upwards, rising completely from the bed, your mouth open but you didn’t even know if moans were coming out at all. You were seeing white, just complete white as your belly screamed and turned and your cunt gushed your juices out in big spurts. The sounds were not wet, not even a squelch, just purely and pornographically wet.

It felt never-ending as he kept pumping his fingers in and out of you, helping you ride it out, and finally, you plopped back down on the bed, panting heavily as your eyelids drooped, exhausted but so blissful. You were so light at the moment, like a feather, or a cloud. You felt something on your cheek, and Steve was kissing you, not caring for the sweat all over your face.

“You with me angel?” You heard him with a chuckle and you gave out a breathless giggle, nodding as your chest went up and down.

“Y-Yeah… fuck–” You opened your eyes a little bit more and you finally felt as if your hips were on wet sheets. You looked down and your eyes widened slightly and you looked at Steve who had a proud smile on his face. “Holy fucking shit…”

“You… sure you’re okay?” His soft dominant persona faltered slightly in order to check on you. Your heart was beating wildly thanks to all the action you just received.

“I never squirted before… Holy fuck Steve…” You chuckled again and he followed you soon after, leaning down to place a soft kiss on your lips.

“If you’re too tired, we can continue some other day–” At those words, you sat up, not caring for how wobbly you felt because of how much that orgasm took a toll on you, and you immediately turned to look at him and throw a leg on each side of his hips, straddling him.

“Oh no… If your fingers do that… I wanna know what your cock can do.” 

And Steve only smiled. He is more than happy to comply…

Ever the gentleman.

hope you enjoyed, keery's hands are ginormous

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x fem #steve x you #steve x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington ficlet

[bettysupremacy]

Hi!! I was wondering if you could do steve Harrington x reader where Robin accidentally tells Steve that the reader has a crush on him? I love your writing 🫶🫶

this request made me realize I’ve been seriously neglecting Steve, I hope this satisfies enough

The days been seriously slow.

Rainy and cold, nobody wants to travel in the wet to get a movie. They do it the day before. It’d been busy. Customers in and out, in and out, buying their families copies of their favorite film. Steve’s sure he never sees as much business as he does the day the forecaster predicts rain.

“I kind of miss customers.” He now picks at the patterned carpet lazily.

Robin scoffs. “I don’t.”

“But like,” Steve breathes. “we’re so bored.”

“At least we’re getting paid.”

He shrugs. Good point.

She shuffles, dipping her hand down to tug on his shoe. He pulls back, faux kicking her. They smile at each other.

“Truth, what’re you doing after work?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “I can’t drive around I’m busy.”

“Abandonment.”

“Stop!” Steve laughs, throwing carpet fuzz at her. “I’ve had this day booked for weeks.”

“Oooh,” She sips the slurpee she’d begged Steve to stop for before his shift obnoxiously. “do tell.”

“Y/n.” He murmurs.

The chill is seeping into his shirt sleeves, finding home over his skin briskly. Or maybe it’s embarrassment settling there. His eyes are heavy and he contemplates the reality of Robin letting him take a nap in the break room. She doesn’t look too trusting now.

“God, you guys are practically dating,” She complains. It’s not that she doesn’t like you, you’re her best friend. Just sometimes, she wants her other best friend to drive her around. “I’m sick of this. I introduced you!”

“We are not dating,” he laughs nervously. “you know that.”

“You practically are.” She shrugs. “Just ask her, I’m sure she’d say yes.”

“That’s not true.”

“She literally wouldn’t say no.” Robins annoyance bubbles out rather quickly. She didn’t sign up for abandonment and denial in one day.

Steve isn’t particularly perturbed by this, slumping over his knees dramatically. “What if.”

He murmurs it some more, quiet mantras of his unsurety.

“Dude stop.” She smacks his head. “I’ve known her for” She pretends to count on her fingers. “ever, if there’s one person she’d say yes to a date with, it’d be you.”

He peaks up from the solemn of his knees. “What’s that’s supposed to mean?”

Robin flinches, zipping her work friendly uniform jacket higher. “Just like,” she trails off. “you guys already know each other so well, I doubt she’d say no.”

He laughs a little. “You’re such a liar.”

“No i’m not!”

“And a bad one.” He giggles, attention undivided. “What do you know?”

“Literally nothing.” Robin moans. “We don’t even talk like that.”

“You’re so stupid!” Steve flicks her. “You’ve been friends ‘forever’.”

Robins palms soothe her eyelids. “She’s gonna kill me.”

This accidental defeat of admittance tingles in Steve’s fingers. Something he didn’t know he could feel until this confession of requited infatuation. Adrenaline pumps through his body, though he forces himself still for answers.

“Since when?”

“Awhile.” She understates for the sake of your pride.

“Wow.”

“Oh god,” She complains, almost whining. “Please don’t be stupid about this, she’s my only friend and I can’t-“

“I’m sitting right here, Rob.” He scoffs. “And I’m not going to be stupid about this.”

She peaks up, ashamed. “So what are you gonna do?”

“I mean shit,” he breathes. “I see her tonight.”

He checks his watch, standing up briskly to Robins horror. He cannot possibly be leaving her.

“What’re you doing?”

“I clock out two minutes ago.”

“No, no, no,” she whines, not making a move to get up. “do not leave me here alone.”

“I have places to be!”

“You’re abandoning me! Again!”

Steve walks straight into the break room, a new sense of pride bubbling in his chest. He’s gotta get his girl.

“Don’t be weird!”

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington ficlet #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic

[loveinhawkins]

ao3

Steve’s got a soft spot for the Henderson’s Christmas tree—and sure, he’s biased as hell considering he once helped decorate it: a week or so before Dustin’s Snow Ball, he’d gone round to drop off some hair stuff, and ended up hanging baubles on the branches.

It’s not like he planned to; it’s just that he got caught in a festive whirlwind from the moment Dustin dragged him into the house, and then when he saw the tree, he couldn’t just leave it like that—not with a whole section bare right near the top, and the star wasn’t even on yet.

And then he didn’t really notice the time passing as he worked. His main impressions were of a grateful Claudia mouthing, “Thank you,” while stuck on the phone with her sister, followed by a cat constantly getting under his feet.

Dustin found a spare bow on top of a pile of wrapping paper and batted it towards the cat.

“It’s good we have another cat now. Like, it’s good for mom,” he’d said once Claudia was out of the room.

It was delivered in that precocious, self-assured way Steve was already getting familiar with. He knew what it actually meant: that Dustin was really torn up about… what happened to poor Mews.

But neither of them got around to addressing it—not when it was made clear that Dustin was taking the oath of secrecy so seriously; standing there, with the can of Farrah Fawcett spray hidden up his shirt, he looked like a terrible spy doing his best to conceal classified documents.

Steve disguised a laugh by pretending to fiddle with the Christmas lights.

When Dustin was busy putting the star on top, he surreptitiously left a present under the tree. It wasn’t anything big, but still, he didn’t want the kid feeling obligated to get him one in return. That wasn’t what it was about.

A year later, and Steve’s looking up at the same tree—technically, he’s trying not to get jealous over something so stupid: that the star’s already on top, the tinsel draped perfectly. There’s nothing for him to…

It’s just that he liked …

He blinks. Looks again.

“Finally,” Dustin’s saying, shoving a cardboard box into Steve’s hands, “you can finish it.”

And then he steps away, goes into the kitchen to unpack groceries—adds after God knows how long, “Uh, preferably before New Year’s, Steve!”

Steve jolts into action.

“Yeah, yeah,” he says dryly, but it’s just on automatic pilot as he starts unpacking the box of baubles, and the full impact hits him.

That Dustin must’ve made sure these decorations were kept separate. That he’d left a space clear—right near the top of the tree. That he’d waited, just so Steve could…

Before he can hang up the baubles, Steve has to spend a couple moments just standing there, blinking hard.

Dustin pokes his head in after a little while, nods his approval. It’s when he’s reciting the Christmas dinner options to Tews (Steve stifles a snort, this goddamn ridiculous kid) that Steve seizes his opportunity: drops off his present, hidden in plain sight.

Well. It’s tradition, now.

Just when he’s about to reverse out the driveway, Dustin runs to the car.

“Steve!”

Steve winds down the window. 

Dustin grins, sticks his arm through.

“You forgot your card, duh.”

Steve smiles back. “Thanks, bud.” 

And it’s funny, Steve knows that a part of him will probably always see Dustin as twelve. But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s getting taller, that the first year of high school is flying by, and Steve almost wants to get out the car there and then—to ask him to stop, even though it’s impossible.

He doesn’t. He just gently places the card in the back. Starts the engine.

He kind of feels like he did when the box of tree decorations was against his chest. A warmth, a catch in his throat—quickly blinked away as if it never existed.

Time’s gonna go on, another year reaching its end; and all of this will get stacked up like superimposed images, so that Dustin will always be twelve, and thirteen, and fourteen, all at once.

But as Steve takes a last look in his rear view mirror, he thinks maybe this one will stick the most: Dustin, waving hugely, scraps of tinsel in his hair.

#growing up does not mean growing apart #steve and dustin fic #steve and dustin #steve harrington fic #steve harrington #dustin henderson #dustin henderson fic #steve harrington ficlet #dustin henderson ficlet

[ikarakie]

what if they won? what if steve was trying to get the injured eddie out of the upside down as the gates were sewing themselves back up again? what if he knew that not everyone could get out safely, so he sends robin and nancy through. then he sends them eddie and hoists dustin after him and by the time everyone else is through, he knows there's no time.

dustin screams. he curses him out and sobs as the gate closes between them. steve promises it'll be fine, just take care of eddie, he'll be fine, but they both know he can't know that. robin looks so betrayed, so heartbroken, he can't bear to meet her eyes. just looks to the floor and tries to tune out their pleads until the gate's shut for good and he's all alone.

maybe he hadn't really thought it through. just figured his chances were better on this side than trying to squeeze through an actively closing gate and possibly being torn in half between worlds. decided that, out of all of them, he was the one who deserved to go back the least. they all had families that actually cared, that were waiting for them. they had each other, and soon enough they'd forget about him. it was all for the best.

but it still hurt. he still sat in the upside down version of eddie's trailer and wept. wished to tell dustin he loved him like a little brother, wished to kiss robin on her head one more time, wished to know if max was okay, wished that he and eddie could've become real, proper friends.

wished to know if there was something else eddie had wanted to tell him before they split off. if he'd misread things, especially after he'd pushed so hard for him and nancy to get back together. but none of that mattered anymore, because he was stuck here now.

after a few hours of crying and wallowing he gets his ass up and decides he's gonna at least try to survive for a while. he decides to stay in eddie's trailer. doesn't feel like he could make it to his own house, and doesn't even think he wants to. though he does trek to the nearest convenience store (and cries there, too, because he remembers bringing max and the kids here for snacks so many times). picks up whatever non-perishable food he can carry and then holes up.

he thinks of little will byers. cries some more, for him. so small, all alone in this place. how strong he was, how he was braver than steve ever would be, even at his young age. thinks he'd like to tell him that, if he ever could.

he's not sure how long passes. maybe days, maybe weeks. not like it's easy to tell how time goes down here. he would say he lost hope, but he never really had any hope to lose. he never intended for anyone to come and get him, made his peace with the fact he'd die here when he watched the ceiling gate close back up again. it's pathetic, how he mopes around and sits in a single spot for days on end. staring at the walls, not moving a muscle.

that's how she finds him. when he hears the door to the trailer jiggle, he just sort of thinks: ah, this is it. something's come for me. wonders if his parents will come to his funeral, if he even gets one.

it slams open. he doesn't even turn his head, doesn't want to know what it is that'll have him. just closes his eyes and waits, listens as it quietly comes towards him. crouches between his legs and- and takes his hands- what-

"steve." he opens his eyes and the floodgates start up again because it's el. her hair's buzzed again, which breaks his heart because he'd been the one to show her how to take care of it when she was growing it out. knew how proud she was of how long it'd gotten. but she's smiling so brightly, like she's won the lottery.

"el?" he asks, and he's shocked at how broken he sounds. "why are you here?"

"i have come to take you home." she says, rather matter of factly, leaving exactly zero room for argument. there's a fierce determination in her eyes, and she squeezes both of his hands.

but it's so dangerous here, he wants to say, you could've gotten hurt. why go through all of that for me?

and maybe she's been hiding mind reading powers from them, because she adds, "everyone misses you. i would have come sooner, but it took a while to get back to hawkins." then, she smiles. "i think they would have found a way even if i didn't, though."

it's like it all hits him at once. they've missed him. they've all been... looking for ways to come get him, this whole time. however long it's been. they didn't just forget about him like he wanted expected. the very idea suddenly seems so silly.

he takes a shaky breath. "well, in that case, let's not keep them waiting, yeah?" she smiles, big and happy, and nods.

part 2

#PART 2 EDDIE POV COMING SOON #stranger things #prompt #steve harrington #imagine #steddie #stranger things prompt #eddie munson #steddie prompt #steve and eddie #steddie fic #steddie hc #steddie headcanon #steddie ficlet #steve harrington fic #steve harrington angst #steve harrington ficlet #steve and el

[ghosttotheparty]

based on this post of mine bc i had thoughts // tw surgery mention, anaesthesia, hospital environment (not detailed its just there)

“And who are you?”

Steve pauses by the door, setting his jacket on the back of the chair next to Wayne. He looks over at Eddie, laying in his bed, covered in a blanket, his hair a messy halo around his head. His eyes are shining brightly, staring intently at Steve.

“He’s very high,” Wayne says to Steve, smiling softly.

“Yeah, I got that,” Steve says, watching Eddie roll slightly, groaning loudly. “Surgery went well?”

“Went fine,” Wayne says lightly, and Steve can see the relief in him as he leans back, eyes watching Eddie like he’s scared to look away.

“Eds?” Steve says, moving closer to the bed. “How was surgery?”

“Was fu-u-un…”

“Yeah? You had fun?”

Eddie hums affirmatively, and Steve crouches next to the bed, looking at him. There’s a bandage on his cheek, and the sight of it makes Steve’s chest ache, but Eddie’s eyes are shining brightly, glazed over as he blinks at Steve.

“Whoa,” he breathes dramatically, and Steve suppresses a smile.

“What?”

Eddie lifts a hand, and it lands heavily on the side of Steve’s face, making him recoil slightly even as he laughs. Eddie’s fingers press into his skin, kneading his cheek.

“You’re fuckin’ beautiful.”

Steve’s eyebrows fly up, and his face burns as he hears Wayne laugh quietly behind him.

“Am I?”

Eddie hums again, smiling brightly, deliriously, wriggling as he shakes Steve’s face.

“Pretty boy,” he mumbles. “Pretty, pretty, pretty boy.” He releases his cheek to boop his nose a little too hard. “Who are you?”

“I’m Steve.”

“Ste-e-e-eve…” Eddie blinks at him, poking his face again. “Stevie, Stevie, Stevie.”

“Hi, Eddie,” Steve says softly.

“Princess Stevie,” Eddie slurs happily.

“Princess?”

“Mm. Princess. Pretty princess.”

Wayne laughs quietly behind Steve, and Steve turns to glare at him over his shoulder. He’s rubbing his forehead and smiling amusedly, and Steve starts to open his mouth to speak, but Eddie grabs at his face again, pulling him to face him.

Eddie’s eyes are almost closed, like his eyelids are heavy, and his fingers are petting at Steve’s cheek and jaw, rubbing his stubble. (He hasn’t shaved. He’s been too stressed. He was planning on shaving tonight after getting firm confirmation that Eddie is okay, but if Eddie likes it…)

Eddie lets go of his cheek and boops his nose a little to hard. And then he does it again, and again, humming a song that Steve doesn’t recognize.

“Do you like boys?” Eddie asks abruptly, his fingertip lingering on the tip of Steve’s nose. Wayne barks out a laugh behind Steve, and Steve’s face burns, and for some reason, even though Eddie isn’t going to remember this and Wayne is right there, Steve says, “Yes, I do.”

Eddie’s face lights up, and he tries to sit up, but Steve gently keeps him down, murmuring a soft, “Stay here, Eddie.”

“You do?” Eddie asks hopefully, flopping back down and looking up at Steve, who suppresses a smile, nodding.

“Yeah.”

Eddie’s eyes widen and he turns his face into his pillow, reaching up to pull his hair across his face shyly, shifting and fidgeting and wiggling, and Steve gazes fondly, contently. He hasn’t felt this calm in a good long while.

“Can I have a kiss?” Eddie asks shyly, and Steve raises his eyebrows. “Please.”

“You’re high, Eddie.”

“I’ve been higher,” Eddie says, his voice slurring, mumbly. Steve just looks at him for a moment, watching his eyes shine. “Please? I’ll be good.”

Steve’s stomach flutters, and he exhales, hesitating before he turns to look at Wayne, who’s still watching, smiling absently with his face resting on his hand. Steve raises his eyebrows, shrugging weakly, asking silently what to do as Eddie’s hand touches his cheek again.

Wayne shrugs, his smile growing, and then he points to his forehead with another shrug, and Steve sighs.

He turns back to face Eddie, who’s gazing at him blearily, his eyes glazed over.

“I won’t kiss your mouth,” Steve starts, cracking a smile when Eddie’s lips pout, his lower lip poking out, shining. “But I’ll kiss your forehead if you want.”

Eddie beams.

“Yes, please.”

Steve smiles, licks his lips, shifting on the ground as Eddie smiles up at him.

“Don’t move,” he says firmly, and Eddie nods, his body tightening and his eyes closing. He’s still smiling.

Steve takes a moment to gaze at him. At the lines in his skin from his smile, at his dark eyelashes and chapped lips. (Which Steve will kiss when he’ll be able to remember it.)

He brushes Eddie’s bangs back carefully, and Eddie inhales, his smile growing even more somehow, and then he leans close, pressing his lips to his forehead softly, leaving a lingering kiss on his skin.

Eddie sighs, still lying stiffly, unmoving, being good like he said he would, and when Steve pulls away to look at him, his cheeks are flushed pink. A second passes before Eddie's eyes flutter open, and then he's smiling so brightly his eyes are squeezing shut, and he rolls away a little bit, letting out an excited squeal that makes Steve burst into laughter.

"Wayne," Eddie calls, rolling over and looking across the room at Wayne, who's laughing even harder than Steve, covering his face with a hand. "A pretty boy kissed me, d'ya see?"

"I saw, Eds, 'm happy for you."

Eddie giggles deliriously and rolls over again, wiggling, and Steve presses his face to the side of his bed, his face hot, because even though it was Wayne's fucking idea, he forgot Wayne was watching him press the softest kiss humanly possible to Eddie's forehead, was probably watching his gaze at him before it. But Wayne is laughing, amused, and probably relieved to be hearing Eddie giggle and squeal happily after worrying for so long.

"Alright," Steve says after taking a moment to collect himself, reaching up and pulling at Eddie's shoulder. "You're gonna pull your stitches, honey, lay still."

"Honey," Eddie repeats, his eyes shining brightly, the bandage on his cheek wrinkling as his cheeks squish up under his smile. "Honey, honey, honey, honey..."

Steve's face burns again.

"You're so sweet, Stevie," Eddie says lightly, his voice mumbly. "Sweet boy. Sweetheart. Cotton candy boy."

"Cotton candy boy," Steve repeats under his breath, and Eddie hums affirmatively.

"Cotton candy. Sweet. Hubba Bubba. Bubblegum baby."

"He's a poet," Wayne quips behind Steve, and Steve turns to glare at him, but he can't fully suppress the smile that's making his face sore. Eddie is still mumbling to himself, now reaching up to rub Steve's face again.

"Sweet like iced tea. Like a lollipop." He giggles to himself, pressing his fingers into Steve's cheek again. "Wanna lick you."

A laugh bursts out of Wayne, and Steve's face floods with heat.

"Oh my god."

Eddie giggles.

He asks to hold Steve's hand after rambling a little while longer, after comparing Steve to cake frosting and strawberries and honeysuckle blossoms, and Steve lets him take it, watches their fingers lace and twist together, and Wayne finally brings a chair over to him with Eddie doesn't want to let go. Wayne kisses Eddie's head when he says goodnight, and then he kisses the top of Steve's. It makes Steve's eyes burn and fill with tears that he refuses to let fall until after the door's shut behind Wayne.

Eddie asks if he's okay, eyes filled with concern, and his fingers tighten on Steve's. Steve wipes his face and smiles, telling him he's fine. No one's kissed me like that in a long while. Eddie sighs and relaxes, still gazing at him. Tells him Wayne does it all the time, and he'd probably do it to Steve if he wants him to.

"I can kiss you like that if you want," he offers kindly, sleepily. Steve raises his hand to his lips and kisses his knuckles.

"Tomorrow."

"Okay."

(Eddie doesn't remember anything when he wakes up the next day, but when he opens his eyes to find Steve resting his head next to him on his bed and Steve's fingers twisted around his, he certainly doesn't complain.)

#one of my fav trios #wayne being a dad <3 #wayne teases them both the next day and steve will not stop blushing #eddies just like 'i said what i said' #he starts calling steve 'sweetheart' and then 'sweets' after this #steve and wayne click immediately they only met once before this #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fanfic #steddie blurb #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson ficlet #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington ficlet #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #tw surgery #why do my wips keep ending up in hospitals im losing my mind #but also this was v fun to write i enjoyed it

[atinylittlepain]

Warm

college!steve harrington x f!oc

series masterlist

Steve gets flustered in an art museum. She kind of likes it.

18+ smut, normal hairy female bodies, steve is kind of a perv in the best way, smut duh, and verrryyyyyy sweet, also robin and eddie being good roommates

note: the painting that Andy and Steve look at is called l'origine du monde by Gustave Corbet and you can check it out here. This fic is for bush (not the president) and bush only, thanks.

.............................................................................

Steve is a good guy, right? Right. Respectful, respectable, two percent in his cheerios in the morning, light wash denim and clean sneakers, and he flosses two times a day, clean bill at every dentist appointment and he shows it, curls half a smile when he holds the door open for girls on campus, all ease, all-American and alright. Studying business, and of course he is, though his parents don’t know about the women’s studies minor he picked up all because of a flushed little crush on a professor that never amounted to anything, coupled with Robin strong-arming him into taking a few more classes with her. But that’s okay, he likes the classes, and he likes the classmates.

“Do you need a partner?” 

“Hmm? Oh, I was just going to work alone actually.” Big scarf tucked up around her neck and a big coat wrapped up around her and she barely even glances at him down the slope of her nose, already refocusing on the painting in front of her. But he’s a good guy, right? Right. A real team player, tilting his head, and letting his hair fall into his face, a little shy, a little smile. She glances at him, unimpressed hook of her brow and her eyelashes lifting up over the rims of her glasses. Her name is Andy, he knows, though they haven’t spoken, at least not directly. She’s been known to correct him in class however, her hand raising after his, quick and cutting. He maybe, kinda, sorta likes that. 

“I think we’re supposed to, you know, discuss what we’re looking at with each other for the VHS thing.”

“VTS.”

“What?”

“It’s called VTS. Visual thinking strategies. Are you sure you want to discuss this painting with me?” 

“I’m game if you are.” She smiles, and he’s already thinking about which of her palms he’d like to write his number on. But when he finally looks at the painting, he finds himself to be a lot less concerned with his phone number. 

“So, Steve, what’s the first thing you notice about this painting?” 

“Um, well, I–” 

“Is it too much for you?” Heat is prickling in a bloom up his neck, her smile sharp as her eyes flit between him and the painting, the painting that he really should have looked at before approaching her.

“No, no, it’s not too much. It’s– appreciation of the female form, right?” He’s not sure where to look any more, a strange kaleidoscope with how quickly his eyes are darting between scraps of the painting and her face. A freckle under her eye, and then swaths of cream and pink brush strokes and then the hitch in her cheek where her smile curves and then, and then. 

“Hair.” His voice pitches and cracks somewhere in the word, turning one syllable into two like a hiccup. She laughs a clipped sound. 

“Hair?” 

“Around her– around her–”

“Around her cunt?” Something hot tightens in his chest, maybe shame, though shame doesn’t feel good like this does. He feels foolish, the quick whip of his head around like he’s worried they’re going to get caught, though for what he isn’t sure. Likewise, he has no clue what’s causing this devastating fluster, this feathering of heat. Whatever it is, it’s making it very hard to look at her, though the way his gaze has fixed on the painting doesn’t feel much better either. He’s never heard a woman use that word before. Actually, scratch that, he’s pretty sure he’s never heard anyone use that word before, not in Hawkins, at least, not corn fed and halfway bible bred, at least. It sets something slick shimmering inside of him, something warm that’s making it hard to think.

“Are you blushing?” 

“I’m not, I’m just appreciating the work.”

“L’origine du monde.”

“What was that?”

“That’s the name of the painting. Origin of the world.”

“Well, that, uh, I guess that tracks.” 

“It’s a shame, don’t you think?” When he does finally look at her again, she’s smiling, all ease, all cool, and him anything but, his fingers tapping a nervous rhythm into his hip. 

“What’s a shame?” She sighs, a long sound, letting her neck roll to the side so her cheek scrunches into the plush of her scarf, a wistful look.

“The current trends. Looking like prepubescent girls. No hips, bald vaginas, everything so… sterile.” She speaks with a bluntness that winds him, if he’s being honest, her expression schooled, and maybe a little disillusioned, brow pinched and mouth pulling down in a grimace. 

“I guess I hadn’t really thought about it.” 

“Yeah, well, you have a cock. Makes things a little simpler, doesn’t it?” 

“Jesus Christ, do you always talk like this?” He says it just a little too loud, a little too breathless, heads turning in the gallery around them, and he thinks he might regret even trying with this girl. Should’ve stuck with the tried and true, that blonde girl that wears sticky sweet lip gloss and smiles at him from across the room during lectures. But this girl, with her arched brow and her twitching smile and the dark flicker of nail polish when she smooths the throat of her scarf. This girl has his number, and not in the way he’d like her to.

“What do you prefer, Steve? Do you like a girl with a smooth shave?” 

“Well I think that, um, a woman’s body is her own choice.” And it has to be the dumbest string of words he’s ever said, breathed out on two static exhales, a garbled parroting of what he’s learned in these classes, right? Well, sort of. 

“How progressive of you.” 

“But the painting is really, you know, it’s, um, it feels warm?” Not sure where that came from, another fresh flood of heat rising and buoying up into his cheeks. Though her expression seems to soften, her smirk falling into something lighter. Maybe, maybe, he got one right. 

“Yeah, I think I get what you mean. There’s a softness to it that’s beautiful, don’t you think?” 

“Mmhmm.”

“But also a strength, a frankness to it.”

“Yes, yeah.” That sick swirl of shame but not shame is receding, and only leaving a nice sort of haze in its place, his head lolling a little, eyes raking over the painting, the catch of light, the soft rounding of a body at rest, slumped and plush and kind of perfect, he thinks. Although he’s pretty sure Andy would correct him for perfect, perfect not being the point, because perfect is oppressive, right? Right. Fuck perfect, he thinks, this is something better than perfect. And maybe she is too. 

“Steve?” Her hand on his arm, purple nail polish and a close-lipped smile snapping him back into his body, hmm? And her smile spreads, and the warmth does too, and she’s saying something about the prof calling them back together and he’s mmhmm-ing on the heels of her brown leather boots. And she sits next to him when they get back on the bus, Robin giving him a stink eye that breezes right over the top of his head as she passes down the aisle because he’s a little busy trying to take discreet inhales through his nose of whatever perfume Andy wears, spice and strong and warm, that same warm. 

And it isn’t his number that gets jotted onto her palm, but her address that she scrawls onto the soft inside of his wrist, right over the catch and jump of his pulse, because she has invited him over for a drink tonight to continue our conversation from earlier. 

Robin doesn’t even have a chance to snit at him for leaving her stranded to the back of the bus because he’s already shuffling her along by the crooked wing of his elbow, hands tucked down deep in his jacket pockets, snow starting to flit and fall from the gray hang of sky. 

“I need your help.”

“You have a date.”

“I’m not sure.”

“It’s a date. She was like, rubbing your wrist. That’s a date.”

“I need your help.”

“Yeah, you do.” 

Because Andy is not light washed denim and polo shirts and two percent milk. He’s seen her in the campus coffee shop, she takes soy, sometimes almond, for the record. So when they get back to their apartment, the smell of electric heat washing over them and curling in their lungs, they don’t go to Steve’s closet, they go to Robin’s. 

Robin’s first pull is a turtleneck. He scoffs.

“What? Turtleneck dudes are definitely that chick’s type. Are you kidding me right now?” And when he assures her that he is, in fact, not kidding her right now, Robin starts to rummage again, eventually coming back out with a t-shirt for a band that Steve only knows because he has asked Robin to turn their music down on several occasions. And before he can say anything Robin is please hold-ing him and shouting down the hall for Eddie.

“What?”

“Steve has a date with a cool girl.”

“Cool girl, what cool girl?”

“Soc major, with the boots.”A little flurry of activity, socked feet slipping down the hall and Eddie hanging off the doorframe of his room, Steve not able to get a word in edgewise between their rapid fire volley.

“No, really? Little different for you, man, isn’t it?” 

“I–”

“We need your closet, excuse us.” Robin on the warpath and Eddie grinning big, and Steve somewhere in the middle.

“How’d this happen?”

“She–”

“They were talking about art.” Robin reappearing with a long-sleeved thermal gripped in her other hand, eyebrows waggling. 

“Steven? Our Steven? Talking about art? Well, well, well.”  If he just had time he’d say something back to Eddie about how he got kicked out of the art museum last weekend for making quacking noises every time the security guard took a step, but Robin is already ushering him back down the hall, into his room this time, shoving the bundle of clothes into his chest and slamming the door shut on her way out. 

Eddie is anemic and tends to eat breakfast when the sun is going down, and Robin is Robin, so it’s a tight fit getting the thermal on, followed by the t-shirt. But looking in the mirror, he thinks he likes it, gives an experimental and not at all vain flex of his arms that makes the sleeves of the tshirt roll back up toward the round of his shoulders and yeah, he likes that. And when he steps out of his room, Robin and Eddie already hovering and humming their approval, that warmth starts to build and bloom all over again. 

And the rest is a little hazy from there. Robin offers him two refrigerator-chilled potstickers from last night’s dinner, something about fuel for your evening, Stevening, while Eddie pours himself a bowl of corn pops and prattles about something he learned in his music theory class, dissonance and skipped beats, and Steve can understand the feeling. And then they’re both kicking him out with an all too solemn godspeed, soldier. Eddie even salutes him. 

Andy lives on the opposite side of campus in a cropping of apartments in a building that looks kind of like a castle, old brownstone and wrought iron. She buzzes him up, opens the door in a thin turtleneck and jeans, her head tilting and her lip pouting, just a little.

“Where’d the polo shirt go?” 

“I changed.” Excellent, he thinks, how astute of him. She smiles.

“I can see. I wouldn’t have pegged you as a Bikini Kill fan though.” He’s trying to focus on her as she leads him deeper into her apartment, though his eyes still wander. Old wood flooring that’s barely visible underneath the thick swaths of patterned rugs. A crushed velvet, lime green sofa sitting in front of a fireplace that’s packed full with books. The kitchen is tucked into a corner, a little patch of black and white linoleum, old appliances. She’s pouring wine at the counter with her foot pressed into her other calf in a sort of shortened tree pose, and she’s asking him if he likes red, and he nods, all the while thinking to himself that he hasn’t consumed enough wine that doesn’t come in boxes to really care what color it is. 

They sit down on the lime green sofa, her arm draped over the back of it, fingers tipped toward him. And he’s trying not to be such a dweeb about it, really, he’s not, but it only takes a few bashful glances to know that she very much is not wearing a bra. And he likes that, likes that a lot. Likes the soft curve and fold of her stomach with the way she’s turned toward him, the stretch of her jeans at her hips, her thighs, and his mouth goes dry around a gulp of wine when he starts to think about that painting again, and he starts to think about her, and he starts to think about her and the painting together. He starts to wonder, to wonder, to wonder what similarities he might find between the two. 

There’s conversation, quiet and meandering and murmuring, their mouths staining dark and rosy from the wine, bodies turning warm and pliant and inching closer, closer, closer. And it all starts to melt, empty glasses set aside and her hand slipping into the back of his hair and she’s going to be the one in control, isn’t she? Fine by him, lax and languid in her hands, letting her tilt his face toward her. The first kiss is surprisingly sweet, just a peck to the corner of his mouth that makes him breathe hard through his nose in a petty huff of anticipation. She grins, lets the next one take its time, a little deeper, a little more heat, open mouth against open mouth, and he groans when her tongue slips behind his teeth. 

This would be enough, he thinks. This time, at least. Her settling into his lap, little pants of breath between the wet snap of lips and spit and tongues. His hands squeeze at her thighs, coaxing a skittering sound from her throat when he reaches back and cups her ass, fingers splayed and pressing petulant. He’s going to feel her fingers in his scalp for a few days, the little hurts, little pulls. The next time she pulls away she presses her hand into his chest to keep him at bay, even as he tilts his chin up, feeling young in his eagerness as she smiles wide-eyed at him.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” Both of them whispering, and when they both realize they don’t know why they’re whispering, both of them giggling, getting away with something when she pulls him up off the couch and into her bedroom. 

“Why is this shirt so tight?” She huffs it out with the tshirt halfway rucked up his torso, his hair falling in his face as he curls over trying to help her get it off, both of them breathing out a laugh when the fabric finally is up and over and off of him.

“Oh baby, your hair.” He likes baby, baby feels good, feels like another warm bloom in his chest, his smile turning sheepish when she reaches both hands into his hair, shaking it out at the roots before smoothing it back for him. He chases after her hand, manages to press a kiss to her palm before she’s reaching for the hem of his, Eddie’s, thermal. It comes off easier, quieter, her eyes softening as she takes in his bare chest, catching him off guard when she ducks her head down to press a kiss to the dip that connects the lines of his collar bone, there and gone, little sweetness, little warmth as she steps back and grins. 

“Do you wanna lay down for me?” Not even a thought, just ligament and muscle moving, some sort of game dancing between their eyes as he settles back on his elbows against the dark fabric of her duvet. He watches the fine flicker of her fingers make deft work of the buttons of her jeans. An absent-minded thing, the heel of his palm pressed to the ache, to the heat. He’s already hard, already smearing warm against the front of his boxers watching her step out of her jeans.

“Oh fuck, honey.” A little pained, the sweet prickle of agony, of being right. A vision somewhere between obscenity and divinity, he thinks, though that would be playing into the madonna-whore complex their professor was lecturing about last week. He doesn’t care, doesn’t care about much of anything except continuing to look at Andy, the soft divot at her waist where her white cotton thong settles against the soft curve of skin, and the dark bloom of curls along the sides of the material where her thighs touch. He was right, and now he’s doomed. 

She smiles, finger hooking in the hem of her shirt and pulling it up just a little, exposing the sweet dip and swell of her stomach, and suddenly he’s not so interested in just laying back any more. Greedy, he feels the slick, desperate curl of it in his gut. Greedy when he shuffles up onto his knees and crawls to the end of the bed. Greedy when his hands curl at the fat of her hips and he pulls her in closer so he can press the open heat of his mouth just above her navel, soft and warm and he wants more of it, of her. She sighs, a long, languid sound that he wants to hear more of, dipping his head down to mouth at the jut of her hip, dampening the fabric slung taut there. 

Limbs tangled with limbs, some of it graceless, awkward, some of it perfect motion. She lays out like a painting, like the painting, for him, her turtleneck curled up around her sternum so he can palm a handful of her breast, settling down between her thighs and wasting no time in dragging his tongue through her cunt. 

She wasn’t wrong about the trends. Hairless bodies, smooth bodies, flinchingly pristine bodies. And that’s fine, he thinks, been with plenty of bodies like that, made his body like that for a while too. But he likes this, likes her, the sense and sate of it, the scent of it, even if it makes him a pervert, lapping at her while he curls two fingers inside her. And somewhere in the simpering sear of it, his hips have started to jerk and stutter into the mattress beneath him, picking up a stilted speed when she starts to moan, clipped sounds and his name and he wants it and he wants it and he wants it so bad. She comes with a long sigh that cracks high into a whine, her thighs tensing and slackening around his face. And he feels a warmth of his own, relief of his own, though the reality of what he did turns him sheepish, pressing a bashful smile into the swell of her inner thigh. 

“Did you?” Her words crackle breathless with her grin, peering down at him from behind her forearm and he can barely look at her, turning his face back into her skin, letting his teeth graze there a little mean.

“Maybe, shut up.” Her laugh bursts and bubbles up, her head tossed back, eyes crinkled shut as he crawls up and up and up, not evening minding the uncomfortable cooling in his jeans when he presses a sloppy kiss to her mouth, turning her laugh into a satisfied hum. 

“Hmm, kinda feminist of you coming in your jeans just from eating me out.” Speechless, and he kind of likes it, huffing out a breathless laugh as he watches the cartoonish jump of her eyebrows. He presses a kiss between them, sweet and simple, warm all over when he pulls back to find her smiling at him.

“I like you, a lot.” That whispering thing again, a little shy, a little young, and a little uncertain. But there’s no need for it, not when she tilts her chin up and presses a kiss to his cheek, the round of it, the warmth of it.

“I like you too, Steve.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fandom #steve harrington ficlet #steve harrington au

[italiansteebie]

secret shape shifter Steve who everyone thinks dies in the upside down, only he doesn't but he's having a fantastically peaceful time shifting into a small brown cat and bugging each of them at their houses.

he keeps it his own little secret until robin and eddie come close to a fist fight over who he belongs to, and the peace he felt once is gone. "he's my cat. buck! his name is oz, and I found him first." Eddie sneers, waving his hands theatrically. "uh, no. he crawled out from under the rubble at my house, his name is rubble, obviously, and he is mine."

their heads turn to the cat that had been resting lazily on the worn couch, as he screamed at them, seeming to want them to stop arguing. "shush, cat. we're trying to argue," Eddie says, swiping a hand over his face, to which he hisses at, rolling his eyes before stalking back to eddies room. he can still hear them arguing, he shakes his head, "dummies," he thinks as he flicks his tail. he flops down, rolling on his back and stretching until his bones pop and snap back into his human form. (he shifted every night after he went home, he had some practice by now). Steve groaned as he stood, ruffling his hair, picking up some clean-ish clothes off of eddies floor, before slipping them on.

"can you guys shut up?" he said, walking into the living room where his two friends were still arguing. "no- steve? are you real?" Eddie whispered, poking his face, "hey!"

"what the fuck Steve, we thought you were dead!" robin cried, tears streaming down her face as she launched herself into his arms. "I've been around, robs."

"what are you talking about?" Eddie whispered, still staring at him as though he's an apparition, and well, he kind of is... "im the cat," Steve said simply, tacking on a 'meow,' for emphasis.

"what cat? my cat? rubble?" robin asked, jaw dropping when Steve nodding. "I changed in front of you! oh my god, Steve."

"prove it," Eddie said, eyeing him carefully.

Steve rolled his eyes, rolling his shoulders before beginning the shift once more. he stared up at his friends for a moment before shifting back into his human form carefully, as to not flash either of them.

"Oh my god. I told you about my crush on- that was private" Eddie cried, scrubbing a hand over his face.

and Steve remembers that night, how he softly curled around Eddie after uttering those words. "and I hate him," he'd sobbed, "because I never- never got to tell him how I felt," and Steve had never wanted to shift more in a moment, than right then and there.

#steve harrington #eddie munson #shape shifter Steve Harrington #robin buckley #steddie #pre steddie #stranger things #steddie ficlet #best friend robin #steve harrington ficlet #stranger things ficlet #shapeshifter #shapeshifter steve harrington #best friend robin buckley

[shares-a-vest]

Alrighty, THIS gifset of the hotwiring/"Don't ya, Big Boy" scene (aka, the moment that gave us all permanent brainrot) unlocked a new Steve Headcanon.

Steve can learn to do something just by watching someone do it. Hell, he even prefers it if they don't talk about the thing while they do the thing.

He absolutely sucks at reading instructions. He always skips straight to the pictures and visualises someone, or himself, carrying out each step, forgoing the lengthy written preamble.

He just wants to watch, follow along with actions. Most of the time he finds himself blocking out what they are saying anyway.

But he doesn't like someone hovering, either, which is why he always only just passed Shop Class and why he has never managed to appear 'handy' in the presence of his father. Plus, there was always a healthy dose of someone talking to him like he was a total dummy, which only made him want to not bother at all.

Steve just watches as Eddie Munson hops in the front seat of an RV they are in the process of 'commandeering'. Which wires he is pulling, shredding and sparking. Where they come from in the compartment just under the steering wheel.

He considers himself a car guy but just not with things on the more illegal side. But they are desperate right now and he might need to start the RV back up again. God knows how this is all going to shake out.

He just hopes everyone will be okay.

He watches Eddie hotwire the car with ring-adorned fingers and finds himself not tuning out the guy's words. He isn't even telling Steve how to do it, nor isn't speaking about it like he's the world's biggest dumbass. Besides, Eddie's charms are impossible to ignore.

But Steve sure as hell hopes he won't find himself in a situation that requires him to do something like hotwire a car again after he and his friends find their way out of this mess.

Another mess.

Again.

Hopefully, it works out this time.

It has to work out this time.

He needs it to.

He wants to go back to fixing VHS players at work. Help Robin with fix-it jobs that are the result of her clumsiness. Show off repaired radios to a hoard of flabbergasted dorks. Fix the sink in the powder room downstairs that his mother says won't stop dripping.

Maybe even finally build himself a piece of furniture for the imagined house with that imagined family he dreams of.

#oopsie this turned into a little drabble at the end there #steve harrington #steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington hcs #lilys hcs #stranger things #steve harrington ficlet

[steddieasitgoes]

Steve’s parents leaving him home alone more and more after the Fall of 1983. Half the time they don’t even tell him in advance, he just finds out from a note left on the kitchen counter and $10 to cover pizza.

Steve waking from a nightmare, friendless, alone (let’s pretend he and Nancy didn’t get back together), and hungry. The fridge is empty and Bradley’s Big Buy is closed for the night. He tries to go back to sleep but his stomach won’t relent so he reluctantly gets dressed and drives 15 minutes to the 24 hour McDonalds in the next town over.

The same McDonalds where Eddie works the drive thru headset at on the weekends. He’s not exactly fond of the job and finds dozens of ways to make it more entertaining — like coming up with terrible nicknames for the company.

Steve is taken aback the first time the static drive thru speaker welcomes him to “McCrap-lds.”

It makes him smile for the first time in weeks.

Neither Steve nor Eddie recognize each others voices as they banter back and forth. Steve ask for recommendations, Eddie makes fun of him but gives in.

When Steve pulls up to the window he expects to meet the funny drive thru employee but he’s greeted with a tired middle-aged women instead. Apparently Eddie lost window privileges after an incident. Steve doesn’t ask questions.

When he wakes up from another nightmare a week later, he returns to the McDonalds and engages Eddie in more easy banter before ordering his food.

It becomes a habit — one he keeps up for the entirety of the summer of 1984.

Steve and Eddie never meet face to face but that doesn’t stop them from venting, joking, and sharing their McDonalds recommendations through a shitty drive thru speaker.

Then on the first day of senior year, Steve is in line for the terrible cafeteria food (it makes McDonalds look like a Michelin Star meal) desperately craving chicken McNuggets and sweet and sour sauce when he hears a familiar voice. He turns quickly, eager to finally learn who the mystery guy responsible for making him laugh at 3am in a McDonalds parking lot is only to find Eddie “the Freak” Munson waltzing across lunch table going on and on about how conformity is killing kids.

Steve’s in shock. How could the sincere and hilarious guy he’s been shooting the shit with all summer be The Freak?! But then Eddie’s foot catches on a lunch tray and he topples ass first to the floor. When he pops up he takes a dramatic bow and makes a joke — one that sends Steve into uncontrollable laughter.

Yep, Eddie “the Freak” Munson is McDonalds guy.

And Steve knows exactly what he has to do.

He figures out where Eddie’s locker is and then excuses himself two minutes before the dismissal bell so he can get himself into position. When Eddie saunters over to his locker at the end of the day, Steve is waiting for him.

“Think it’s time I cash in on that free sundae you promised me a few weeks ago.”

Eddie stares at Steve dumbfounded for a moment, mind reeling as he process what Steve is getting at.

“You, Steve “the hair” Harrington are the McDonalds guy? My McDonalds guy?”

“Well I’m certainly the McDonalds guy,” Steve says taking a step closer. “Buy me that free sundae first and then we can discuss me being your McDonalds guy.”

#this is so dumb but the idea won’t leave me head #should I make this a proper fic? I may have started but I need to know if it’s worth it #steddie #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #steve harrington ficlet #eddie munson #eddie munson ficlet #steve harrington/eddie munson #Steve harrington fluff #eddie munson fluff #alternate first meeting #meet cute #Dani writes #stranger things #stranger things fic

[hellfire--cult]

Omega!Steve Harrington x Alpha!Fem!Reader

wc: 6.8k

+18, omegaverse, knotting, virgin!omega, established relationship, late presentation, secondary gender as mentioned, smut, p in v, breeding kink, heat, rut, blood mention, pain mention

plot: You and Steve have been dating since high school, but even in your twenties the two of you haven't presented yet. You were afraid that your presentations wouldn't be what you expected, you an Omega, he an Alpha... but there was one possibility the two of you never thought of.

a/n: Do not read this if you are not into omegaverse. seriously. don't.

if you liked this thing, reblog ok? ok

UNEXPECTED

“We’re twenty-two and we still haven’t presented. It’s fucking stupid baby. Dustin is already showing Alpha traits.”

You looked at Steve with a smile on your face, shaking your head at him.

“Look, maybe we’re supposed to be Betas, which is amazing actually Stevie. You know presentation develops between the ages of eighteen and twenty-five.” You said as you sat at the end of his bed, legs crossed underneath you. He was leaning against the headboard, with his glasses over his face and suddenly he winced, making you jerk up in alarm, crawling towards him.

“Fuck… I really don’t want to go to the doctor. They will probably take my stupid appendix out.” You rolled your eyes at his words, but the worry was slowly consuming you as you groaned at him.

“Steve, you have to go to the doctor babe. You have been what– having these pains for the past week?” He waved you off with no importance and he moved to swing his legs off the bed, his feet touching the floor. You noticed a bead of sweat on his forehead and you knew that he was sick because you felt under the weather too.

“You can’t keep staying with me in quarantine. I bet you’re not even sick.” 

“Really? Last time I checked we both had a fucking fever, so yeah, you got me sick. No pain though.” That was a lie. You were for sure not feeling like Steve was, but you were feeling weird. There were certain pains in your belly, but it might just be your period, that was supposed to come like two weeks ago.

You took a pregnancy test, but it came out negative. You were gonna go to a gyno last week, only to fall ill at the same time as Steve had. You cursed at him for it, but the moment you saw how pained he was you didn’t want to tell him you felt weird too. His pain was greater, and you didn’t want him to hurt anymore. 

“I should have a cold shower. I just feel fucking hot.” You knew the illness wasn’t the only thing on his mind. You reached out to rub his face so he would look at you. “I– I mean, if we are Betas, shouldn’t we feel that?” 

“I don’t know…” You gulped at the uncertainty and he leaned towards you to place a soft kiss on your lips, a sigh following right after from his throat.

“I just wanted to be an Alpha. I wanted to have pups, your pups… I mean, what if something’s wrong with us?” He looked at you with a worried look on his face, and in the relationship you were always the one that reassured him of stuff, knowing how much confidence he was lacking. You pushed a strand of his hair behind his ear and pressed another soft kiss on his lips.

“Nothing is wrong with us. We will be Betas, and it will be harder to conceive, but it’s not impossible, baby. It’s not.” 

“I mean…” You could hear the worry in his tone, the fear. “What if… Never mind, I’m gonna go shower. Do you want to go with me?” He gave you a small smile and you sighed, shaking your head.

“No Stevie, go clear your thoughts a bit, okay?” You pressed a small kiss to his shoulder and he nodded, getting up from the bed. You looked at him as he walked out of the room, closing the door behind him. You sighed with worry as you looked out the window.

You knew what he was scared of. What if the both of you turn out the same? Jonathan had turned into an Omega, which is extremely rare. The weirdest thing of all, was Billy Hargrove presented as an Alpha, and he couldn’t contain himself around Jonathan, courting him with gifts. Nancy broke up with Jonathan so he could be happy, knowing the Omega boy needed his Alpha. Nancy presented as a Beta and now remains single.

If you two presented the same, your relationship would be hard to keep. Or if you presented as an Omega and he a Beta, or the other way around, he an Alpha and you a Beta… You shivered at the thought, anger surging through you. Steve was yours and only yours. You would lock him up with you if you needed to. No one can take him away from you.

No one.

Your nose twitched barely, taking a scent in. What is that? Didn’t Steve say he was taking a shower? Why is he baking cookies? Or a cake? Why is it so strong? Did he overdo it with vanilla essence? But there is also some chocolate smell? A hint of it? 

You got up from the bed only for a strong pain to fall in between your legs. You wanted to yell in pain but you didn’t want to alarm Steve at all so you bit onto your lips as you clenched your legs as tight as you could… But fuck, that made it worse, so you reopened them. Your breaths turned heavy as you felt sweat all over your forehead, and another hit of strong pain fell again in your lower part.

You were growing hot as well, but you needed to know what was going on under there. You should have gone to the gyno no matter what, and now it might be too late. Too late for what?

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You were groaning profanities and you felt a rumble in your chest, but you only focused on the pain between your legs. You rushed to take off your pants and you were instantly alarmed by what you were seeing. Your white cotton panties were straining you. There was a bulge. There was a fucking bulge, and it hurt, it was hurting you.

You winced as you tried taking the panties off and you rushed to look into a mirror, only for your eyes to widen like plates. Now you know why it hurt. Your vaginal cavity closed… It closed because your clit reinserted itself… 

So it would enlarge, and now you had– now you had–

One last pain hit you as it all finally came out of you, and there it was, standing in its full glory. You raised your hand to touch the tip of it only for electricity to surge all over your body, a moan escaping your lips without your permission. It was red, leaking already, and your breathing was heavy as you looked at it.

You were an Alpha. You presented as an Alpha.

Your clit turned into a penis, your ovaries turned into testicles inside your body. Your uterus was not functional any longer. You were a full-fledged Alpha. Those were the pains inside your belly, your organs completely changing, rearranging… 

Pains.

Pains. Steve had also been experiencing pain. Oh no… No, no, no… A growl escaped your throat and you were surprised at the new sound, but you were proud, as if it were right. But Steve– He might turn into an Alpha–

Your nose picked up the sweet scent once more, this time stronger than before, way stronger and you were hit by a wave of fire all over your body. Your body was a literal furnace right now, and your mind was becoming foggy, hazy, and you were getting dizzy, but your new cock twitched in attention, in pain, already leaking precum out of it. 

You were going into rut.

You had to get out of Steve’s house, there was an Omega in heat somewhere, maybe a neighbor of Steve’s, but you can’t be here. You might jump Steve, and you don’t want him to see you like this. He won’t like it. It’s over. It’s over, you know that much, but first you need to get out.

You groaned, and growled, as you rushed to get your pants, not caring about using the panties again, they would only cause you more pain. The sweet vanilla hit you again, dizzying you completely, making you hold onto the wall next to you. 

Fuck, you needed relief, you needed it, but you had to run. You can’t do it here. Maybe you can run into another room and lock yourself in, yell to Steve to leave so you could take care of yourself, somehow, but you were losing rationality at every second that passed. 

You pushed yourself off the wall and turned around to run out, only for you to stop in your tracks. Your eyes widened as the scent filled the room, intoxicating you, suffocating you, making you feel high. It hit you instantly, like a punch on the chest, and the throbbing below you increased by a thousand, a growl rumbling in your throat.

Steve was standing in the doorway, naked, completely. Your mouth salivated at seeing him in his new glory. His cock shrinking into a cocklette, his balls not visible any longer because where they were before now probably is a slit. A slit that was leaking slick all over the inner thighs of his legs.

His face was flushed, red even, and you noticed how less buffed he was. You assumed it had been the lack of food or nutrients or exercise from doing quarantine these past days. Suddenly your ears perked up when they caught the subtle noise of a whine. You could smell him. Fuck, you could smell him.

“S-Steve–” Your voice was hoarse, with need, and you noticed how he looked down at your new anatomy. You noticed how his body trembled slightly at the sight, another whine escaping him as more slick fell down his inner thighs. Another jolt of electricity rushed all over your body, your veins. 

“A–A–” He was trying to speak to you, but his mind was gone, his need apparent, his consciousness having slipped already, and all he needed was relief. All he wanted was you. You who were emanating a wildfire scent in his room. You who now had something he needed. You who is looking at him like a small bunny, and he is rejoicing at it.

Oh fuck…

As soon as he had entered the shower he felt the pain even greater than before. He didn’t want to show it to you, but he knew his cock had shrunk in the past few days. He didn’t want to think so much about it because the fever prevented him from getting out of bed or his house. Now in the shower, he can feel the pain of something moving below him.

He looked down under the water to see his testicles disappearing into his body, and he noticed just how small his dick was. He couldn’t think much about it because another jolt of excruciating pain hit him, making him lean against the wall, the cold shower not doing anything for him.

He felt his insides ripping inside out, and he just wanted to bite onto something so he wouldn’t scream in order to not alarm you. The wood-like scent was not helping him either, and he knew an Alpha might be close. Shit, fuck, fuck, fuck. Suddenly his eyes widened when he felt something hot, sticking coming down his thighs. He reached a hand down to see it was slick that he could gather up, even under the water.

He was in shock as he looked at it, and he moved his hand between his thighs again, this time deeper, just where his balls were a minute ago. His breath cut off when he felt a slit that wasn’t there before. Something that sent a wave of pleasure all over his body and he felt more of his juices slipping out of him. His breathing was heavy as he realized what happened.

He was in heat. He was in an Omega heat.

He is an Omega. He presented as an Omega. What is gonna happen with you? What is going to happen between the two of you? What is gonna happen to your relationship? How can he face you? This was not supposed to go this way at all. 

“FUCK!” His thoughts were interrupted when a hit of pain slammed against his belly after the wooden smell invaded his whole body. He needed to follow it. He needed to find the source of it. He was losing consciousness and he knew that his lust and his heat were becoming worse each second, clouding his mind from reason. 

He at least needs to get to the room, but you were there. You were in the room. He cannot let you see him like this, but he needs to lock himself up somewhere. He turned the shower off, stumbling out of it and almost falling to his knees. There was no time for a towel. He needed to run. 

He opened the door with a slam and turned to go to his parent’s bedroom only to stop on his tracks. He sniffed the air, and he realized the wooden smell was coming from his room. Did an Alpha enter his home? No, you were here, you would have yelled, but what if– Worry and desperation yelled into his throat, whines vibrating in his chest as he rushed to the room, only to stop to see you looking at yourself in the mirror. The bottom half bare.

And Steve took a deep breath in.

The smell was coming from you. You were an Alpha.

And now you two were staring at one another, taking in the new anatomy of each other, and Steve’s eyes were dilated, almost black and you could smell the slick falling onto the floor. It felt as if an animal wanted to rip open from your body, but you knew it was you. You wanted to devour Steve, your–

“Omega.” Your voice came out, deeper than before, an appreciative snarl mixing with your words. Steve felt relief wash over him as a happy chirp escaped him.

“Alpha… My Alpha.” And that was enough for something to snap inside of you. You shrugged your shirt off, and you heard the ripping sound but didn’t care that you just broke something, you needed to feel his entire body against yours. You need to taste him. You need to have him. 

You need to knot him. You need to knot Steve. 

In just seconds you were in front of him, grabbing onto the back of his neck to pull him downwards towards you so you could dig your nose into his scent gland, taking in the intense sweet smell coming off of him. It was a drug, intoxicating even, clouding every sense and making Steve your only life source. 

Steve wasn’t far behind. As soon as you dipped in, he nuzzled you as well, the omega inside him relishing with a chirp as he felt his Alpha scenting him. No rationality was inside of you two any longer, just the need to feel one another, of mating, bonding, an animal trying to rip out of your chests.

“I need to taste you, baby, I need to.” You say in a hoarse voice, the scent of his slick making your mind reel in and out of consciousness, of rationality, trying to keep an ounce of yourself to take care of him. It’s his first time after all, yours too, but you know how much more shocking it would be for him. You were trying to keep that in your head so that you wouldn’t lose yourself into the rut.

“Please, please, do something Alpha, it hurts– Please–” You heard Steve’s whines and pleads, and his eyes filled with tears of desperation as he writhed under your hold. You weren’t going to say no to your lovely Omega, much less if he is in pain. 

You wrapped your hands around the back of his neck in order to pull him down towards your lips, ending in a wanton kiss from the both of you, moans being exchanged as the electric current traveled all over your veins and sat on your bones. Your fingers dug into his scalp, grabbing onto his hair to push him deeper into you.

He was in between moaning and whimpering as his arms wrapped around your waist, trying to feel you against him, and a groan escaped your throat when your new appendage pressed against the belly of your mate. The groan turned into a growl as you bit Steve’s lower lip in need and your Omega gasped, letting you take advantage and slide your tongue into his mouth so you could intertwine it with his.

You felt your body growing needier and needier, and Steve was in the same or worse state as you. He was willing to surrender completely and you knew that. You had to remind yourself to not lower your voice into your submission chords. You don’t want Steve to do anything he doesn’t want to, so you have to be the one rational between the two of you.

Your hand traveled in between the two of you, and you brushed your fingertips at Steve’s new cocklette, still standing proud. He hissed with a moan as you rubbed on it, stimulating him and Steve had to pull away from the kiss to take a breath. It was something new, completely. It didn’t quite feel like when he was touched before, it felt more like a pressure now. 

“You like that Stevie?” You asked him as you ran your fingers against him, making him twitch as he nodded desperately. You smiled at how needy your sweet Omega was being, how much he was moving underneath your grip as stroked him. You bit your lips as you pulled away from him to guide him towards the bed. 

You could see how pink his skin was, despite the tan on his body you could still see it. He moved quickly onto the bed, laying on his back and opening his legs to let the air hit him where it burnt the most, causing him to sigh in relief, but not noticing how you gasped as you looked in between his legs.

“Baby? Alpha?” He opened his eyes in confusion as he looked down, his eyes widening when he saw the predatory look in your eyes as you looked at the new slit he now has instead of his testicles. That only made him gush more slick out, moaning at the feeling. The Omega inside of him was happy that his Alpha wanted him like this.

You took a deep breath in, and the sweet scent of vanilla sent another shockwave in your brain cells that only made you tremble as the heat in your body became even more unbearable and the hardness of your dick was now painful, but if you didn’t taste Steve right this second you were going to die.

You lunged yourself on the bed, belly down and in between Steve’s legs. Your nose was close to his center and you closed your eyes and a low purr was heard from you as you took a deep breath in. Steve felt how his slick was coming down and probably dirtying the sheets already, but he didn’t have it in him to care, not right now. 

“You smell delicious… Your Alpha will take care of you baby, don’t worry.” You cooed at him in a low tone and Steve whined in need as you inched closer to him. He needed something, anything at all because he felt his belly turning in pain, the need to be knotted too present.

“Please– Hurry–” And his breath was cut off, his head falling back as you licked a long stripe of his new and virginal cunt, tasting his slick and you moaned at the sweetness of it. He was exquisite, and he was yours, only yours. 

He moaned as he felt your tongue sliding in between his folds, up and down, and then his eyes widened when your tongue went inside, and he felt his gut turning, his belly tensing, not knowing what the feeling was. 

Your left hand was holding his right inner thigh to hold him still and open for you, but the right one left his leg in order for your fingers to rub against his entrance, lubricating them with his new juices. You felt him shiver under your touch and you soothed him with a kiss to his inner thigh and a purr.

“You need to relax for me Stevie, I don’t want you in pain Omega.” Steve whined at the authority yet more slick gushed out knowing his Alpha wanted to take care of him like this and so much. His Omega was at peace, happy, chirping all around and he felt himself relax as you slowly pushed a single digit inside. 

He gasped but yet a moan escaped him despite the stretch and surprise. It was a new feeling that’s for sure, but it felt good, it felt really good, and it wasn’t enough.

“M-More–”

“Patience.” 

Your tone gave away that you were not going to let him take the lead in this. You need to prepare him or else you will tear your Omega apart. Steve whined a little bit only to be replaced by a moan as you started moving the digit in and out of him at a slow pace. You noticed the more time you kept thrusting, the more slick started coming out, which was a good sign.

You were on a thin rope right now though. You don’t even know how you’re managing it, but it must be because your love for Steve goes beyond the designation of the secondary gender. You’ve been together since high school, and you don’t see a future where he is not present. On every road, Steve is there.

You could hear the wet sounds of Steve’s juices as your finger pumped him, and it was time for a bigger stretch, so you slowly started moving another one in. You felt Steve clench as a small gasp escaped him, so you wanted him to relax even more, to get lost in the sensation. You licked your lips in order to wet them and you guided your mouth to take his cocklette into your mouth with ease. 

“OH– FUCK–!” He couldn’t believe how much he was feeling at the moment. The pleasure and the relief of finally getting something, anything at all. His belly felt on fire as it relaxed and contracted again as your fingers pumped in and out of him. Your tongue swirled around his cocklette and your fingers slowly curled up inside of him, making Steve feel something new.

You chuckled as his moans became needier, knowing you hit that new spongy part inside of him, the one you know quite well. You could feel his hand raising to get hold of your head, his fingers threading into your hair as his hips started grinding against your face and fingers. He had drool falling from the side of his mouth and his face looked completely flushed and sweaty from how hot everything just felt. 

“Feels good?” You asked him as you popped his cocklette out of your mouth just to make sure the sounds you’re hearing are all good. His safety comes first, even before your own pleasure. Your dick can remain as hard as a rock if Steve decided to stop now. You can relieve yourself somehow, away from him, but Steve will always come first and foremost.

“Yes! Yes! Please–!” You’ve never heard Steve this way, and it was becoming your own situation even harder to keep. You growled in satisfaction as your fingers picked up the pace and your mouth returned to his cocklette, swirling your tongue all around it as Steve thrashed under you, his hips bucking up to meet your mouth and fingers.

His belly felt weird, it was tight, and it pained him, and then it didn’t. You felt his walls clenching on your fingers and you knew he was close. His moans were louder and his cries with your name vibrated all around the room, the walls shaking with his noises. You decided to then introduce another finger in, sliding it easily thanks to the wetness and Steve saw stars. You popped your mouth away from him in order to talk with a smirk on your face–

“Cum for me Omega. Cum.”

And that’s Steve’s doom as he felt his entire belly tense up, he felt his insides and his new walls clench around your fingers as he cried loudly in pleasure, his hips raising from the bed as your fingers squelched even more thanks to how much he was giving you. Your mouth wrapped around his cocklette once more in order to take in the squirt coming out of there.

“ALPHA!” You growled at the taste and the sound of his needy voice calling for you. You started to slow down your pace with your fingers as you felt him unclench you, relaxing his body back down onto the bed. You licked up his cocklette, making him twitch at every lick from the overstimulation.

Steve didn’t know where he was. He felt everything on fire and not at the same time, but what he knew was that even if he came, the pain in his belly was still there. He needs to give his Alpha some pleasure, he can’t be selfish, and he needs to move.

But before he could, you were already lapping at his slit, making him moan with a wince as you licked up all of the juices he gushed out with his orgasm. You moaned into his cunt at the sweetest thing you’ve ever tried. If you were to die there, you would die a happy woman. 

“So delicious Stevie, you’re so beautiful…” You moaned out with a purr and you heard a small chirp coming from Steve, but then you felt him pulling your head up from in between his legs so you could look at his glossy eyes and red cheeks.

“Alp– Alpha– I need you, I– I want to do something to you too–” You shook your head at him as you crawled away from him. He whined at the loss of contact but you could only chuckle at how needy your Omega was.

“I love you Stevie, but– I don’t have the patience right now to do anything else but knot you and mate you.” Your voice was low but not demanding. He knew it was a question and your Omega happily submitted as he rolled over to lay on his tummy and you tilted your head in confusion at it but your eyes widened when he raised his ass up, presenting himself to you. He turned his head that was still on the mattress, his eyes completely dilated for you.

“Please– Knot me Alpha– I need it, I need you baby–” A growl rumbled in your chest, and you grabbed onto your new girth, stroking it in slow motions, making you moan out at the new sensation. You looked at Steve’s slit, clenching and unclenching as he waited for you. You positioned yourself behind him and you didn’t know if what you were doing was correct, this was all new to you as well, but it was all out of pure instinct.

You took a deep breath in as you tentatively ran the head of your cock through Steve’s wet folds and you groaned at the feeling of it. You took a deep breath in as you cupped Steve’s sex in order to wet your hand in his wetness and then you stroke yourself some more to lubricate your cock. 

“Ready for me Omega?” You asked in a soft tone, but Steve could hear the strain behind it as if you were holding yourself back and he smiled fondly because you were taking care of him so he wouldn’t feel weird or in pain. He nodded against the mattress as he wiggled his ass towards you again.

“Yes, please, I need your knot sweetheart…” You took a deep breath in and you guided your cock into Steve’s entrance and you slowly started to push in. Your eyes clenched at the feeling of Steve clenching around you, his walls burning but it felt good. It was definitely a good burn.

Steve’s eyes were wide as he felt himself being stretched open, the pressure making it burn but the feeling of finally having you inside of him overlapped the pain completely. He whimpered as he felt you going deeper, and he was so happy, so happy that his chirps and purrs were coming out of nowhere, not being able to control himself.

“Fuck!” You bottomed out inside of him, and you were breathing heavily because holy shit… This felt right, different but right. You leaned forward and you managed to kiss his shoulder because your frame was still smaller than his. “You okay baby?”

“Uh– Uh huh… It feels so good, so fucking good…” He was becoming something he always called you whenever he fucked into you. Cock drunk. Now he knows the feeling of it, and fuck does he love it. Only because it’s you.

“Yeah? Want me to fill you up, darling?” Steve clenched at that, making you groan and then chuckle at how spot-on you were. You tentatively moved your hips backward, Steve taking a deep breath in before you moved back in. You kept that slow tortuous pace for a while, but you wanted Steve to adjust to you.

Steve was already in another state of mind, moaning louder at every thrust that you gave him and then he started moving his hips towards yours, looking for more friction, for more roughness. You growled at his impatience and you pressed his upper back to pin him down so he wouldn’t move anymore. 

He whined, complaining for not getting his way, only for his eyes to widen as your hips started moving faster, snapping into his, and Steve was surprised by how everything just kept feeling better and better. He could feel you going in and out of him in a place that was giving him so much pleasure, more than he ever had before.

Your hands gripped onto his hips as your rationality started to slip away, feeling a primal urge to make him submit, to make him yours, and you needed to ruin him. Your fingers dug into his skin as you raised your body up, kneeling straight behind Steve, and you started pulling his hips towards you in a harsh manner as you thrust into him.

“Alpha– Alpha– I’m gonna, I’m–” Steve was surprised by how fast he was getting close to the edge again, but he was in a presentation heat. He was sensitive to everything that was being done to him, so his walls started clenching once again, and his belly contracted and tightened. You never stopped snapping your hips against his, growls rumbling in your chest as you felt his pleasured whimpers. 

“Cum for your Alpha, let go Stevie…” You cooed at him, wanting to feel him clench around your cock and your eyes widened when he did, a loud cry of your name escaping his lips against the mattress beneath him. Oh, this was new, this was… exquisite. It felt as if he were milking you as if he were trying to suck you in. 

You felt something inside your belly tighten, and you knew it must be your testicles that were inside of you, warning you that you were coming close. You didn’t get to have him much, but it was expected since it is both of your first times with your new presentations, but you will get one more orgasm out of him. You will.

Once you finally felt Steve unclench you, you pulled out of him, making the Omega whine in distress but not having the energy to get up to look at you. You made Steve turn and land on his back so you could face him. You smiled in satisfaction as you saw tears rolling down his cheeks, and you leaned down to kiss them away.

“Baby…” Steve was breathing heavily, his eyelids closing but the pain was still there. He needed the knot. His Omega needed your knot.

“I know… I know…” And you positioned yourself in between his legs, a position that was always the other way around, but this time it felt more appropriate than ever. You guided yourself into his entrance once again and you kissed him softly on the lips as you thrusted back in again. 

Steve whined in your mouth, a noise of satisfaction escaping him as he felt full once more. He wrapped his legs around your waist, and his arms around your shoulders to pull you closer to him. You smiled onto his lips as you started moving in and out of him once again. 

You took your time, chasing that high that you felt before and something was way different down there. You were feeling something inside of your cock, something that was burning you and you felt extreme heat below. You looked down to see what was wrong, and your eyes widened when a knot started forming at the base of your shaft.

It started hitting against Steve’s opening, trying to intrude, and Steve gasped as he felt it, but he was now desperate for it, trying to chase it so you would start pushing it inside of him so you two would be locked. 

“Give me your pups– Mate me, mate me, please–” He was begging, he needed you so he didn’t have any shame, that could wait for later on, but right now he needed to be locked with you. He needed to be full of you. You moaned as you nodded as you started rutting into him at a fast pace, quick, hard, and the base of your cock started swelling even more, making it almost impossible to thrust back out and you didn’t want to hurt Steve.

So you slammed yourself in and you ground into him, making Steve’s eyes roll to the back of his head as he kept whimpering and crying out your name in moans. He was feeling that spongy part inside of him being hit with no mercy and he was in bliss with it. His cocklette twitched and twitched and he heard you growling so he connected his eyes with yours.

Your teeth were bared almost, breathing heavily as you towered over him, looking down at his bonding gland with intent. Steve nodded desperately at you, and that was all the confirmation you needed in your mind. You leaned down as you felt your knot forming inside of Steve and he whined as the burning returned because of the new stretch.

And then you felt yourself finally release into him, in thick white ropes, and your knot locked in as Steve clenched his walls in his own orgasm, his body shaking as you kept cumming because of how tightly he was holding you in. You growled loudly as you moved your mouth towards the juncture in between his neck and shoulder, over his mating gland.

And you pierced through it with your teeth, biting down.

Steve cried out because of the pain but then warmth invaded his whole body, something clicking inside him, and he smiled widely as he looked at the ceiling. He was bonded to you. He was your mate. Forever. You two were going to be together for the rest of your lives. He can’t wait to have pups, he knew that his presentation heat was not fertile, but maybe the next one…

“Stevie, don’t clench.” You hissed out, making Steve snap out of his thoughts as you raised up from the crook of his neck, and you wiped your mouth away that had some of Steve’s blood mixed with your drool. He was drowsy almost as he looked at you with pure adoration in his eyes.

“My Alpha…” Your eyes connected with his and you smiled fondly, nodding to him as you leaned to give him a soft kiss on the lips. You remained on top of him as he hugged you close, both still locked in, and you might be for a long while. 

You two regained your breaths slowly, not talking so your minds could also try to come down from the high of your rut and his heat. Five minutes later, you were still locked into him, and he tried to not clench many times so you wouldn’t get overstimulated. He was rubbing circles on your back as you laid your head on his chest, a smile on your lips.

“How are you feeling baby?” You asked as you raised your head up to look at him. He blinked towards the ceiling a few times, a chuckle escaping his lips.

“Ask me tomorrow?” You giggled at that and nodded, understanding that this was still something that you two needed to digest first because this possibility was never in your mind, nor his. But… “You know… it makes sense now that I think about it.”

You frowned and looked at him again.

“What do you mean?”

“I was always maternal. I always took care of the pups, and my biggest dream is to have my own, as many as I can…” He chuckled as he realized that if he had paid a little more attention he would have figured out his secondary gender long ago.

“Okay, yeah, I want pups too–” 

“You were always protective… You were territorial, of me, of the pups, of your parents… Always protecting everyone, and putting your pain aside to take care of everyone else…” He looked at you and you realized he had caught onto you, but you still lied, shaking your head at him.

“No, that’s not true–”

“So you’re telling me you didn’t feel weird this past week? You’re telling me that you didn’t feel any kind of pain?” He asked and you looked at him with a small growl in order for him to not ask anything anymore, but it didn’t work because he rolled his eyes at you, making you sigh.

“I did. But you were in greater pain, so I needed to take care of you first.” You said matter-of-factly, and the puzzle made sense in your head now. He raised an eyebrow at you with a small smile as he saw you realize what he meant. You sighed and gave him a nod to let him know you understood his point and then you felt his finger on your chin so you could look up at him.

“I want your pups… Please?” His eyes were glossy, desperate, and you knew he was reassuring you that he didn’t care about how things turned out, and you didn’t either. You would have never. You smiled at him and nodded, giving him a soft peck on his lips.

“Next time… we’ll make sure it takes.”

And Steve chirped in delight.

end

a/n: i woke up one morning thinking about omegaverse and wondering why i never read a single alpha reader fic involving male characters. sometimes we are the ones to rail.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington omegaverse #omegaverse #omega!steve harrington #alpha!reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #female reader #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington imagine #stranger things fanfiction #steve x you #steve x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington ficlet #steve harrington fanfic #st fic

[thewulf]

Treat You Better || Steve Harrington

Summary: Request - Steve Harrington x Reader based on Treat You Better by Shawn Mendes😩 I used to LOVE that song when i was younger, and now it just reminds me of my boy stevee💙

A/N: Loved writing these even though men suck (sometimes!!). Thank you for the request @marennnx. This is a 3x1 - or the three times your boyfriend treated you like crap and the one time he did something about it!

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Female Reader

Word Count: 3.7k +

T/W: Dismissive boyfriend, absent boyfriend, gaslighting

Steve Harrington had been a constant in your life as you grew up in the small town of Hawkins. You’d moved in next to the Harrington’s when you were just six and became fast friends with the neighbor boy, Steve. The two of you became fast friends as there was no other six- or seven-years old’s in the neighborhood close to you. You’d quite literally been there for each and every single first for the other. You’d learned and grew through life with Steve right by your side.

For the first time in your lives things got a little strained when he started dating Nancy. Not that you didn’t like her, she was lovely. It’s that Steve did that stereotypical thing and kind of forgot about you for a while. Tired of being bored around your house you too started going out and doing things with your other friends. It was fun, you enjoyed yourself. You still wished you were doing it all with Steve though.

Then you met Derek. You’d seen him around Hawkins High but never actually met. Not until the summer Steve had ditched you. That was almost a year ago now. Steve and Nancy had long since broken up. You and Derek were still hanging on, albeit by a thread, as all of you were heading into your junior year. It dawned on you that you were going to have to start looking at school soon if you really wanted to get the hell out of Hawkins like you and Steve always talked about.

Things never really got back to normal between you and Steve after it was all settled. The two of you talked and hung out more but you attention usually went towards trying to save the failing relationship between you and Derek. You were truly miserable, but you didn’t let a soul know, not even you mom who you usually told everything. It was almost embarrassing admitting it at this point with how much you’d been faking your happiness. Derek also didn’t like you hanging around with Steve. He was jealous of course so you tried to keep it to a minimum or as hush hush as you could.

That was how you got to the semi-awkward place between you and your best friend. The two of you stealing longing glances but neither having the courage to broach the growing tension between the two of you.

The Bonfire

It was the Friday before school started the next Monday. You’d arrived with Derek, pulling him along to find some seats. It was the annual class tradition since you’d been in eighth grade to have a class wide bonfire before school actually began again. You, of course, had to drag your reluctant boyfriend along with you to the event. That should’ve given you the wherewithal to understand where his attitude would be for the night.

But you ignored it as best as you could. Press on and have fun. Don’t let the stupid boy ruin your fun night. You knew you were pushing it when you found some seats next to Steve. When you stopped in front of him your boyfriend groaned in annoyance. Ignoring him you turned to Steve, “These seats taken?”

He shook his head quickly with a small smile on his face. It wasn’t usual for you to come around let alone with your shit head of a boyfriend in tow. He was missing you more than you even knew. He knew he messed up by nearly dropping you for Nancy completely a year ago. This was his karma, and he was taking it.

He shook his head, “Nope.”

“Come on babe, let’s go get some drinks.” He tried tugging at your hand this time, but you just shook your head instead.

“I’m going to stay here and catch up with Steve. I’ll take a drink though when you make it back over.” You gave him a sweet smile though you knew it was no use. He was already pissed, and you surely pissed him off even further by not doing what he wanted. Steve just looked between the two of you before he grumbled something incoherent and walked off.

“He’s a real charmer, that one is.” Steve knew he probably shouldn’t have said that, but he was growing tired of your boyfriends attitude. He didn’t understand how you could put up with it. You were such a light, happy

You gave your friend a soft smile, “He just didn’t feel like coming out tonight. Cut him some slack.” You knew Steve was at his wits end with him. Your family was too. Nobody seemed to like him but you. And you didn’t even really like him all that well. The solution seemed all too clear, but you still didn’t want to give it up just yet. Derek was your first real relationship. The first guy you said ‘I love you’ too even if he wasn’t the first guy you loved.

“You cut him a lot of that, Y/N.” He spoke freely seeing that Derek was still far away at the drinks table. Even though you asked for a drink you had a feeling he wouldn’t make you one. He’d forget or just not do it as some sort of punishment. That wasn’t love. That was manipulation. You felt that all too familiar sinking feeling growing in your stomach as you thought about your situation.

You looked down feeling the weight of his eyes on you, “I know.

He waited a moment seeing the despondent look on your face, “Hey,” He waited to continue until you looked back up to him. When you finally found the courage he continued, “You just deserve so much more than that. Somebody who wants to be with you…”

You shook your head stopping him, “That person doesn’t exist here. So, I’ll just enjoy what I can. Alright?” Your voice snapped at his ever so slightly telling him you were done talking about it.

He knew he shouldn’t have pressed, but you were his very best friend. He cared for you. Wanted the best for you. Loved you so dearly. He hated to see you treated less than how you deserved, “That’s just not true Y/N.”

“Steve.” Your eyes told him to drop it. There was a reason you didn’t tell or show your friends or family about that side of him. It made it pretty obvious how shitty he actually was.

He gave you a quick nod before leaning back in his seat, “Just think about it. Please?” There was a pleading look in his eyes that made you nod in agreement.

“Yeah, I will.”

He stood up from his seat seeing your boyfriend walk back without a drink for you, “I’ll see you around. Remember what I said.” He gave your boyfriend a sharp look before heading to the drink table deciding to get you a drink since your boyfriend had no interest. Steve decided he would show you that somebody did in fact want to treat you right.

The Football Game

You’d messed up and forgot to swap your light jacket for your heavier coat before heading out for the game. It was fine at first, but the temperature was dropping quick. As soon as the sun set behind the bleachers and the Hawking High football game started you began shivering. You tried cozying up to your boyfriend who was none the wiser of your chilly predicament. But he just shrugged you off.

“Babe.” You whined feeling another shiver ripple down your spine. It was getting cold, cold and you were not prepared.

“Shh, Y/N. I told you not to interrupt when they’re playing. I’ve got to watch Josh.” He grumbled pushing you off him. His brother, Josh, was the star wide receiver of the team and he had to watch everything live to report back to his brother. It made you roll your eyes week in and week out. Derek wasn’t good enough to play varsity, but his older brother was. You’d found it a little weird how much he lived through his older brother when it came to football.

Your mouth clamored back and forth, “But I’m cold Der.” It came out whinier than you intended which surely irritated the man further. How dare you inconvenience him when he needed to pay attention.

He sighed, “I told you to put a coat on. Go get a hot chocolate or something.” He didn’t take his eyes off the game and his voice was audibly annoyed with your presence.

“Whatever.” You rolled your eyes in return before heading off to the concession stands. Walking was good. It got your blood flowing. You needed to move to warm up anyway. It’s not like Derek would even throw and arm around you to warm you up.

You were so focused on walking to get your blood flowing you hadn’t even seen that you zoomed right past Steve who decided to follow you out of curiosity. When he saw you shivering and rubbing your hands back and forth to get some heat to them he had enough, “What are you doing out here in just a jacket?” He shrugged off his overly warm coat and handed it to you.

You shook your head in a hurry, “You’ll get cold Steve.”

“I’m fine. You’re not. Take the damn coat.” He shoved it further into your hands not giving you another chance to argue. When you slipped it on the audible sigh that left your mouth made him crack a small smile even though he was awfully worried about you being out in nearly freezing temperatures with a jacket made for the fall.

“Thank you.” You nodded up to him, “I forgot my coat. Derek told me to get a hot chocolate to warm up.” You laughed it off knowing how bad it sounded. Because it was bad. He was terrible. Derek might not have even liked you. Why were you even with him at this point?

Steve’s smile downturned at your comment. He’d made it quite evident how much he didn’t enjoy your boyfriend or his presence, “Some boyfriend he is.” He grumbled knowing it was likely going to set you off. You’d been more than defensive about your relationship. You’d always been like this, but it broke him seeing you so seemingly stuck in a loop. You wanted everything to look perfect, but it wasn’t. But you couldn’t admit it because then you’d have to admit it wasn’t perfect. A loop that he couldn’t pull you out of.

“Steve.” You sighed but knew it was a lost cause, especially because you were wrapped up in his coat. You couldn’t really defend the guy that much anymore. It felt so insulting because the entire relationship seemingly fell apart so quickly, right under your nose. Things were fun in the beginning. The two of you got along well and laughed at a lot of different things. But then it turned sour a few months ago, right after Nancy and Steve broke up. It’s not like anything changed for you. But apparently it did for him. It’s like he was pushing you right into Steve’s arms and you were pretty sure you’d be just fine with that.

He put his hands up in defense, “You know what I’m going to tell you.”

You sighed, “I know. I’m thinking about it. I promise.”

He nodded, “Keep the coat tonight. Drop it off whenever. Take care of yourself okay? Anytime you want to talk I’m all ears. I miss you.”

The floor was suddenly far more interesting than his face. You felt bad that you had in fact been avoiding him like he had you early on in his relationship, “Yeah, I miss you too. I’ll stop by more often. Promise.”

He grinned seeing you look back up to him, “That’s two promises I’m going to hold you too.”

You laughed for the first time that night. Curious it came at the mouth of Steve rather than your boyfriend. Your heart tugged as the two of you joked around like old times without your know-it-all boyfriend there to ruin the moment. You knew the relationship with Derek was doomed when you wanted to follow Steve back to his seat rather than head back to your boyfriend. But you had appearances to keep up. So back to Derek you walked.

Biology Class

“Alright class settle down. Today is the day you’ve all been waiting for. We’ll be dissecting pig hearts!” Your overenthusiastic Biology teacher stood in front of the curious junior class who had a big mix of emotions. Some were thrilled, that was Derek sitting next to you and Steve a row in front of you with his lab partner. Some were not so thrilled, you.

When the teacher set the heart down in front of you, you let out a big breath moving your chair away. Derek just started laughing like a little kid seeing your reaction to the dead pigs heart in front of you. Shooting him daggers you simply covered your mouth and nose with your hand trying your best not to throw up all over the desk in front of you.

When Derek started cutting you thought you might actually puke. The smell alone was starting to send you over the edge, “I don’t think I can do this.” You mumbled scooting even further away. Taking a quick peak around the room you were surprised almost everyone seemed just fine. Seemingly you only had the weak stomach in this class. You didn’t notice Steve’s eyes watching you with caution. He knew you well and knew this would be a unique kind of challenge for you.

“Ahh, grow up would you Y/N?” Derek rolled his eyes before returning to cut away, “Just plug your nose up if it’s that big of a deal.”

You huffed in annoyance at his complete lack of care, “I’m already doing that Derek.” It was sharper than you intended which of course set him off.

“You’re being a baby about it. Grow up.” He snapped back full out ignoring the look on your face. It was becoming harder and harder to fake your happiness. Especially when he treated you like you were nothing but a nuisance to him. Did he even like you? Why did he want to spend time with you if all he did was get annoyed with you? When was the last time you’d genuinely been happy with him? It’d been months. Months since the last time you giggled with him or smiled from a conversation.

You stood from you seat, “I’m getting some air.”

He just continued on, “Suit yourself.”

You stood quickly before letting the teacher know you needed to get some water. You walked to the water fountain down the hall trying your best not to break down right then and there. How did all this happen? How could you have let it all happen so quickly? When did he start to dip out on the relationship? Why wouldn’t he just breakup with you if he was this unhappy?

“Hey,” Steve’s sweet voice pulled you back into the present, “You okay?”

You nodded quickly trying your best to come off as cool as possible, “Yeah, was thirsty.”

He smiled, “It’s just me. You don’t have to lie.”

A frown formed from that. It was just Steve. Why did this all feel so weird and awkward and so far out of your control all the sudden? All you wanted to do was scream and beat on the wall in frustration of how you felt at the state of your life. But you knew better than that. Especially at school.

“I couldn’t take the smell.” You admitted to the boy who cared more to check up on you than the one who supposedly loved you sitting in the classroom. The more you thought of it the more Steve seemed to be the one who cared for you. And you knew he did. But with all that he had done for you and the lack thereof what Derek had made you realize how backwards it all was. You were meant to be with Steve not Derek. Steve cared. Steve loved you. Steve wanted you and put in the effort to be with you. And for some reason you still called Derek your boyfriend.

He grinned, “I knew it. I thought you looked squirrely in there.”

“You were watching?” You asked curiously.

“I’m always watching you.” His grin dropped as he realized how creepy that had sounded, “In a not weird way I promise!”

You laughed at his attempted recovery, “Thanks for checking in Steve.”

“I’m just keeping true to my promises. Speaking of which. How are yours coming along?” His smile grew into a smirk as he knew you were stalling. But that was his job as your best friend to keep pushing. That and he loved you. So, he’d decided it was his time to be selfish. He knew he could treat you better. So much better than that shit head you called a boyfriend.

“I’ve thought about what you said.”

You answer surprised him, “You have? And?”

“You’ll see. Soon.” You gave him a quick nod and smile before leading the two of you back to class. As much as Steve wanted to decipher that with you he knew better than to push too hard. That was more than you’d ever given him, so he was rolling with it for now.

After School The Next Day

You sat down on the bench in front of the High School in utter defeat. He had forgotten you. This truly was the last straw. Derek had promised he’d take you home knowing your car was in the shop this week and he forgot you. Steve was right. He didn’t give a rats ass about you. He only cared about himself. He only cared about you when it was convenient for himself. How had things unraveled so quickly? You couldn’t keep up this charade anymore. Not when he was up and leaving you places now.

When you heard the soft honk of the car in front of you your heart dropped seeing Steve’s car idling there. Fuck. Why him? He’d seen first-hand how shitty Derek had been treating you these last few weeks and this might actually set him off. Slowly, you walked over to his car. You slid into the front seat not daring to look at him. You just knew he was giving you that disappointed Steve look that only came to his face when Derek did something that should have been a red flag for you.

“You alright?” He asked after a moment of silence.

Closing your eyes you leaned back into the seat, “You’re right.”

“What about?” Steve asked as he pulled out of the school parking lot.

“About Derek. The whole thing. I deserve more.” A tear slipped out as you said it out loud for the first time. Sure, you’d thought about it in your head, but it was different spoken out and for Steve to hang onto.

He pulled over onto the side of the road, “Hey, it’s okay. I’m so glad you’ve realized it. He hadn’t been treating you well.” Steve hesitantly reached out and brushed away the stray tear which brought on an entirely new set of waterworks from his lighter than a feather touch.

He let you cry it out in the passenger’s seat of his car not uttering a word until he thought you could actually hear him, “I’m here for you. It’s okay. You’re okay.” He didn’t know his words only made you cry even further for you were mourning a relationship you never had. One where you thought you were in love, but it was just stupid teenage hormones. The one you loved was sitting right here comforting you beyond your wildest imagination.

You hiccupped after a moment of you unexpected breakdown. A wave of embarrassment washed over you as you realized how you had quite literally cried like a baby in front of Steve, “I’m so sorry Stevie.” You whispered breaking out the nickname only he let you use.

“Don’t apologize sweetheart.” He’d never called you that before. Shoot, he’d never really looked at you like this before. He looked at you like how you felt about him. Like he loved you.

“I didn’t mean too… I didn’t…”

He shook his head before pushing up the arm rest separating the two of you. He maneuvered his legs so you could slide over, “Shh, come here. It’s okay. I promise you that. I don’t break my promises, remember?”

You nodded before launching yourself into your best friend arms. You let him wrap you right on up as the car idled with the two of you suctioned together. He squeezed as he held you letting you know that he had no plans or intentions of letting you walk away again.

“Y/N?” He asked after minutes of the two of you just wrapped in the others embrace.

“Yeah?”

He took another second before letting out a long breath, “You remember how I said that somebody wants to treat you better? Somebody out there wants to be that person for you?” He asked with an unusual shakiness in his voice. Uncommon for the usually so confident Steve Harrington.

You hummed just enjoying being wrapped up in his arms. This didn’t happen that often anymore no matter how much you wanted to. You were with Derek. You couldn’t do that. But now? All bets were off, “Yeah, thank you for that.”

He nodded, “I can be that person. I can treat you better. If you’d let me that is.”

You sucked in a breath at his words, “You can?” Was this really happening?

“I can.”

You turned your eyes up to his with a bigger than life smile, “Okay.”

His scared eyes turned hopeful at the simplest of statements, “Okay?”

A quick nod before you turned your head into his chest, “Let’s do it. I love you already so?”

“You do?” His hopeful eyes turned from that of hope to shock right back to those lovey dovey ones he had on you days prior.

“I do.” You grinned feeling better than you had in a long time admitting that to him so freely. It shouldn’t be hard. This was about to be the best thing that you could’ve done for yourself. Who would’ve thought two crappy relationships was all the two of you needed to finally open your eyes to what was right in front of you.

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[loveinhawkins]

There isn’t a strike of lightning, no grand epiphany that clues Steve in.

It just comes down to this: he knows Dustin Henderson.

Knows how he looks when confronted with a problem he desperately wants to solve.

“Fuck this,” he’s saying through gritted teeth, pushing down hard on the gaping wound across Steve’s abdomen; he’s doing everything right, Steve thinks with pride, but it’s not enough.

It’s not his fault.

Steve says as much.

But Dustin isn’t listening; he’s just muttering to himself, “Not again,” over and over.

And Steve suddenly feels like he did when dropping the quarter into The Indiana Flyer—the moment just before the song played, already knowing what he would hear.

“Not again?” Steve asks very quietly.

Dustin’s mouth snaps shut. His face is chalk white, and there’s more than just fear in his eyes; there’s guilt too, guilt and a responsibility he should never have to bear.

Steve wants to take it from him.

He lifts his hand, grunting with the effort, and ruffles Dustin’s hair. “Oh, bud,” he murmurs, “you’ve kept trying, huh?”

Dustin’s eyes fill with tears.

Steve tries to hush him, breathing turning shallow from the pain.

“Hey, you—you’ve g-gotta hand it to me, man,” Steve says through a faint smile. “Was… on the right track, y’know? O-obsessed with clocks.”

Dustin gasps out a laugh. It ends on a sob.

“Shut up,” he says, and that’s all—no clever comeback, nothing, even though he always has one.

Steve’s heart breaks for him.

“How many times?” Steve says, but he doesn’t need a reply; he knows enough just from the way Dustin is shaking.

“I—” Dustin swallows, shakes his head. “I don’t…” Oh, Steve thinks, his kid is tired.

“C’mere.” He cups the back of Dustin’s head. “Everyone… everyone else make it?”

Dustin starts to cry.

It’s an answer of its own.

“Shh. Hey. That’s… you can stop now.” Steve pats the back of Dustin’s hand, stills the pressure on his wound. “Listen. Just… just let it run this time. Hey, it’s okay, Dustin. It’s okay.”

“It’s n-not okay, Steve, how can you—”

“Shh,” Steve says again, and maybe this is as much for him as it is for Dustin; he doesn’t want their last conversation to be a fight. He looks into Dustin’s eyes. Smiles. “Christ, I’m so proud of you.”

It doesn’t cover everything he wants to say; there’s not enough time.

I loved growing up with you. I’m sorry. I wanted to be there for you forever.

“Fuck you,” Dustin says, young and angry and so afraid. “Don’t say you’re proud of me, asshole, just don’t—”

Don’t go.

“Okay, fine. You’re a smartass,” Steve drawls, and Dustin lets out a choked giggle before grief takes over again.

“God,” he says, “this isn’t fucking fair. I sh-shouldn’t have to choose—this is—”

“Bullshit,” Steve agrees. “That’s not on you, man. Not your fault if the game’s rigged.”

Dustin closes his eyes.

It’s not so bad, Steve tells himself. He can just… rest for a couple seconds, tell Dustin to get outta here, then…

A faint chime.

Dustin’s eyes open. There’s a sudden gleam to them, shining through the fatigue. Determination.

Hope, despite everything.

“Well then,” Dustin says, “s’a good thing I’m a smartass.”

And then he’s running.

Steve manages to lift his head up with a cry, gets to see Dustin reach a grandfather clock ensnared with vines, because of course he’s not gonna listen to him, he’s such a little shit, and Steve loves him so much—

Dustin reaches up to the glass in front of the clock face, smashes it with his hand.

The world turns white.

The last thing Steve sees is Dustin turning to him with a shaky grin, mouthing, “One more.”

And Steve’s still terrified, but he also thinks of the world’s most stubborn, brilliant kid with a wonky compass, of how many times do I have to be right on the money before you guys just trust me?

It’s a walk along the railroad tracks, stumbling into each other’s lives; it’s just get ready, and you die, I die; it’s being trapped under Starcourt, and Steve left with the one thing that all the drugs, all the pain in the world could not take away from him.

The absolute faith that Dustin would figure something out.

#a kinda concept thing got its hooks in me. they are a family and would do anything for each other ❤️ #steve and dustin #steve and dustin fic #dustin henderson fic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington #dustin henderson #steve harrington ficlet #dustin henderson ficlet

[rustedhearts]

melancholy (steve harrington x fem!reader)

summary: autumns with steve were distinctly blue and melancholy.

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

✶ main masterlist

tags: fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, very short, very sad. more of a ficlet.

✶ recommended listening: (dream) by salvia palth & both sides now by joni mitchell

small town connecticut. october 1991.

A wave of thunder roared through the bedroom. A lick of lightning, a slash of white light, shuttered over the bedspread. From the window, left open a crack, a gust of cool air howled through. Beneath the blankets, your body gave a shiver—reaching to pull the cotton shields over your head.

"Honey," he called from somewhere under the blankets. "You left the window open again."

Nose buried in the down feathers of your pillow, you hummed absently. Dug in a little further. Felt the weight of his hand over your waist, slipping through the groove. Expected, comforting, welcome. Against the splashing patters of rain, the whooshing shuffle of his body against the sheets. The damp grass and soiled leaves, the earthen concoction of soil and rain—interrupted by his vetiver musk and a hint of something like bonfire smoke, all toasted to warmth by sleep.

His hair, always softer than yours, hazelnut-brown and growing past his ears, glided against your cheek. As did his mouth, grazing like seeking sustenance in the dark—until the familiar cushion of your mouth, roughened by the briskness of autumn, touched his own. He pressed firmly, bottom lip jutting between your own, tongue lazily sweeping in hello. He kissed until you rolled away from the pillow, and into him.

When he was satisfied with the taste of you on his mouth, he pulled away and shuffled against the mattress. "I'll close it."

His figure, tall and lean, scarcely clothed in dark colors, moved through the blueness of the room. A deep, indigo blue—Joni Mitchell blue, melancholic blue, a blue only October allowed. When he turned in the blue light, streaked over his face paled by the colder months, he was grinning.

"Morning," he soothed.

Partially concealed by the pile of fabrics and colors that made up your bed, he caught only the raise of your brows and crinkle of your eyes—but he knew you were smiling, too.

"Morning, honey."

Four feet—two bare, two flannel-plaid-clad—padded over the hardwood. Wandered over the cold bathroom tile, stained with a rouge mistake near the sink. Shuffled into the kitchen, stopping before the coffee maker to fumble through caffeine assembly. Pattered to the toaster, where two pieces of wheat toast came away crisp and black. Tapped a mindless beat before the stove, where four eggs fried up still runny.

They came together, half socked and half bare, at the small, round wooden table. Toes knocking, ankles sliding, one pair warming the other's foolish forgetfulness as the apartment collected a sharp chill. He burnt the toast and you undercooked the eggs, but neither said a word as forks shoveled and scraped until the dishware was clean.

"You ready to go?" he asked you over the rim of his coffee mug, oatmeal-colored and speckled—purchased at Goodwill for 99 cents five Octobers ago.

You swallowed down your last charcoal bite of crunchy bread. "Almost. Have to do some cleaning up."

You cleared the table, wiped it clean with a damp rag. The sink freed of dishes, the counter clear of crumbs. The windows greyed with the light of storm clouds. It wouldn't let up today. Over the patter of rain, his soft clattering in the bedroom sounded like music. Flipping through records, fluttering through books, ghosting through hangers, spritzing cologne from a pressurized can. He came through the kitchen in a navy blue knitted sweater, dark and padded around his arms; a pair of Levis hugged his backside just perfectly.

As you pulled the rubber dish gloves from your hands, snapping and squeaking with sudsy water, he watched, leaning against the fridge. The watch on his wrist caught a streak of silvery light.

"Ready now?"

You padded over, perching on tip-toes to kiss his chin. Arms winding around his torso, breath taking him and all his cleanness in. "Almost. Shower first."

The hiss of the shower stream convoluted with the rain, melding together until one was difficult to discern from the other. But over the stomp of water, on the other side of the tiled wall and through the whiteness of the shower curtain, his maneuvering persisted. Rummaging and rumbling, drawers rolling closed, hands patting pillows, perfume bottles being straightened after being knocked down by hands moving too quick to slow down.

Wrapped in just a pale, fluffy pink towel, dripping beads of warm water across the floor, emitting steam from a stream set too high on hot—he watched you from the sofa, a book perched between his hands, as you strode into the closet. Flicked through hangers, lips pursing and nose scrunching at every distasteful option.

He placed his book face-down against the tattered cushion of the couch before returning to the bedroom. The top drawer of the dresser hummed open, clunked back closed.

"Here, honey," he cooed, holding out a bundle of deep green wool.

It smelled like him as it went over your head. It felt like being held beneath the blinding white and neon red of a movie theater sign on a cold November night while you waited for your friends. It felt like curling up on the couch when the days were too long, and the warmest, coziest place in the world was his lap, pressed against his thigh. It felt like the first time he met your parents at Thanksgiving dinner, full of bloated bellies and the stench of meat clinging to your hair and his hands for hours. The candied sweetness of a day through town when you were supposed to be at college, but the weather was too brisk and the trees were too vibrant to waste, and his propositions were not easily ignored.

The jeans were yours, the boots you pulled on, too—but the socks stuffed beneath the stiff leather were his. Plucked from his drawer when he wandered back to the living room to his book. Unfurled from their rumpled ball, plucked free of hair and lint, squished down at the calves to fit snugly around your ankles.

Your perfume and his cologne came to a symphony of scents that you only associated with home. The blueness of the living room deepened in all your stalling, and when you came to stand in the doorway, dressed in half his clothes, an ache like hunger festered in your chest.

He smiled again, overwhelmed with adoration, and snapped his book shut. "Ready now?"

You nodded. He stood, the old springs of the cushion weeping with relief of removed weight. His boots clunked over the carpet, flat and thin and found on the side of the road in a pile of garbage. A road trip to New York in the dead of summer.

He placed his hands on your cheeks and pulled you close. In the center of the living room, as the rain trickled down the windowsill and filled the room with earthen sour, he kissed you. Sweet, tender, full of aching mouths like all his kisses were. His slender, pulsing fingers buried their way into the hair gathered at the nape of your neck; his thumbs pressed at the underside of your jaw, right where your heart sang just for him. The melody in your bones swept into a crescendo until he pulled away.

Even then, under his hazel-speckled eyes and long, straight-bridged nose, it couldn't stop crying for him.

"Come on," he murmured, a softness gracing his face. "It's time."

You kept the radio off in the car, let the ping of rain on the windshield soothe the drive. His hand cupped over your denim thigh, tapping aimlessly at the occasional stoplight. And the blueness gathered in the car, too. A deep, bruised blue that curdled your blood like spoiled milk. A blue that felt like drowning. A blue that burned if you peered for too long, like the hottest flame on a gas stove burner.

The tires crunched over gravel and flattened down slick grass. Slipped through the sludge and soup of mud. You carefully put the gear in park when you reached the edge of the road. The engine dinged as your seatbelt slipped back against the door, and ceased only when you yanked the keys from the ignition to slip them in your pocket. In the backseat, he left a sturdy raincoat for days like today. You pulled it over your head and zipped it to your chin before stepping out.

The walk was just down the hill and up another to the right. Winding through grey stone monuments, careful of crushing windblown and rain-wilted flowers and tokens of affection as you went. Hands tucked into the warmth and dryness of your pockets, you watched your feet collect wet soil and mark their way through a familiar path. The rain began to slant sideways, beating against the canvas of your raincoat and covered ears with gentle fury.

And despite the wetness and the messiness of the earth, you sank down to the ground when you reached the end of your journey. Flat on your butt, legs tucked into each other with every intention to stay. From your pocket, a tightly-closed silver thermos of steaming coffee, swiped on the way out of the house.

You placed it on the gleaming silver stone and swiped away the blades of grass and yellow leaves that came to say hello.

"I made it, Stevie," you told him, sighing into the cold.

Thunder grumbled through the clouds, married with another lick of white lightning. You smiled, easing into the wisps of wind seeping through the raincoat hood. Coldness kissed your cheeks and numbed your nose. The scent of him under your coat felt as precious and rare and holy as he did when he was still around.

Though Steve said his goodbye, you'd never stop coming to say your hellos.

#rolly! #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fandom #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington angst #steve harrington ficlet #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington hurt/comfort #steve harrington x y/n fluff #steve harrington x you #joe keery #joe keery fic #joe keery fanfiction #stranger things fic #steve stranger things #stranger things #stranger things au #stranger things fanfiction

[ghosttotheparty]

eddie knows that steve’s house isn’t a home. that he doesn't really actually feel comfortable there, or safe. it makes eddie sad every time he's over, along with the lack of photos and art and personality that could make it a home. he still stays over fairly often, sleeps in steve's bed, makes coffee and breakfast in the kitchen, lounges on the sofa.

steve’s parents come back without warning one day and find eddie and steve kissing in the kitchen.

nothing scandalous or inappropriate or anything like that. they’re both smiling, leaning over their coffee cups to peck each other's lips, (and eddie thinks the harringtons have the worst timing in all of human existence, because this is the first time they’ve kissed today), but catherine claps her hand over her mouth like they walked in on them fucking on the dining table. steve barely reacts when they walk in. he just sips his coffee slowly.

walter tells him to leave. his voice is quiet and lethally calm, and steve does as he says. eddie follows.

steve moves in with eddie that day, into the apartment the government gave them after the trailer was destroyed. it’s small, only slightly bigger than the trailer was, with two bedrooms. steve stays overnight enough that he practically already lives there, but now eddie makes space in his drawers for steve’s clothes. it doesn’t take long for their clothes to combine.

steve is quiet for a while after moving in. he doesn’t say much, doesn’t really look into eddie’s or wayne’s eyes.

wayne comes close and hugs him when he starts to cry, murmuring that he’s home now, that everything was gonna be okay. steve falls asleep in his arms when he finally stops crying.

steve doesn’t say it, but eddie knows he feels like a burden. one more stomach to feed, one more load of laundry. even with the hush money, times are tough. especially when no one will hire eddie.

so eddie reminds him as often as he can that he’s home. that nothing he and wayne do for him are favours, or just them being nice. that they love him and want him safe and cared for. he wakes him up by pressing kisses across his face, and he watches sports games with him (and asks questions so he can actually follow along), and he remembers how he takes his coffee, and he tells him every chance he can that he loves him. even silently, squeezing his hand under tables in public.

he knows steve doesn’t really believe him. or at least, that it’s hard for steve to believe him. it wouldn’t be easy, not when his own parents never said the words, when they told him without a second thought to leave the house he grew up in. he knows that steve doesn’t quite feel at home in the apartment, that he feels like he doesn’t belong there.

even though eddie and wayne do everything they can to make him feel safe, to make him feel at home. wayne comes home one day with printed photographs that he got after talking to joyce. photos of steve with his friends, with eddie and robin and nancy and jonathan, with the kids. photos jonathan took of them during campaigns, during movie nights and parties at the harrington house. the photos go up on the walls in eddie and steve’s room.

(except one. it’s a photo of eddie and steve on the sofa in the wheeler basement, steve laying on eddie’s chest, looking up into his eyes, playing with the guitar pick on his chest, and eddie is smiling softly at him, his arm around his neck, his fingers in his hair. eddie doesn’t even remember what they were talking about, just that he felt warm and cosy and safe. the photo is on the fridge. it’s wayne’s favourite.)

it takes a while for steve to get comfortable at the apartment.

eddie gets to watch it happen. at first, steve sits stiffly on the sofa unless he’s with eddie. (he likes to lean into him.) but after a while he starts to pull his legs up onto the sofa as he watches games with wayne or movies with eddie, sitting cross-legged or pulling his knees to his chest. for a while he needs eddie’s help remembering where the dishes go in the kitchen, which cups go in which cabinet, which order wayne’s mugs go in on the shelves. but he eventually stops asking.

one day eddie comes home from band practice to find steve doing the dishes. he’s wearing one of wayne’s flannels.

he wears eddie’s clothes often enough. usually his t-shirts and sweaters when they haven’t done the laundry, but he’s never worn anything of wayne’s.

‘hey, baby.’

eddie is stuck in the doorway, the strap of his bag still between his fingers, and steve turns to look over his shoulder at him.

‘eds?’

‘hi,’ eddie says weakly, looking at him. the flannel is rolled up to his elbows, and when steve turns to look at him in concern, eddie sees that the flannel is hanging open to reveal one of eddie’s motörhead shirts.

‘hey,’ steve says, quickly shutting off the water and drying his hands before he comes over, holding eddie’s face as eddie’s eyes fill with tears. ‘did something happen? what’s wrong?’

‘no,’ eddie chokes, blinking tears out of his eyes and dropping his bag to the floor. steve wipes the tears away tenderly, kissing his lips softly. ‘i’m fine, stevie.’

‘why are you crying?’

‘’m just…’ he takes a sharp breath, reaching up to hold steve’s waist, pushing under the flannel and holding him tightly. ‘kinda like… overwhelmed? with how much i love you? and how— how happy i am?’

steve’s face softens.

‘baby,’ he breathes. eddie’s lip quivers. he slides his hands to grip the lapels of the flannel before he reaches to trace the scars around his neck. ‘i love you too.’

eddie pulls him into a hug, holding him tightly as he waits for his tears to stop. steve waits with him, playing with the ends of his curls, running a hand up and down his back. eddie is sniffling when he finally stops crying, and steve holds his face in his hands, wiping his cheeks and kissing him softly, over and over, until eddie is giggling, smelling the dish soap on his hands.

but eddie just starts crying again when steve says casually and easily and lightly, ‘do you know what time wayne is coming home?’

#home ✨ #having emotions #steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie oneshot #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington ficlet #eddie munson ficlet #stranger things #stranger things ficlet