#billy knows steve would come looking for him

[ganjas-shit]

Oh, You’re Breaking My Heart

Warnings: sexual thoughts, angst, mentions of ptsd, Neil Hargrove, mentions of loneliness and isolation.

Pairings: main pairing Billy x reader, some slight Steve x reader

Summary: Your longing for an exciting romance finally comes true when Billy Hargrove becomes your next-door neighbor. But is love everything you thought it would be?

Authors note: hi everyone! I’m most likely going to be turning this into a series (don’t know how long yet) but I’m so very excited because this has been sitting in my drafts for about a year already and I’ve finally decided to just finish it. There will be eventual smut for this soooooooooooo yea tee hee anyways hope you guys like it! Btw the timeline I’m using is not the same as the one in the show.

⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚☆˖°☾ ⋆˚

Love was something you deeply craved, something you longed for. As ridiculous as it sounds, you thought about it almost every day.

Having that one partner in crime; someone you can be reckless, wild, and free with. Someone who makes you forget about reality; someone who would do anything for you. Someone who knows the deepest, darkest parts of you.

For a while it became something you obsessed over.

Intimate, passionate, crazy love—blamed for the constant loneliness you felt. Your obsession with fictional romance failed to alleviate it. No amount of reading or watching could fill the cavity in your heart, that horrible feeling of emptiness in your chest.

Then Billy Hargrove became your next-door neighbor.

It all happened so fast.

Your belly erupted with a swarm of butterflies the moment his ocean-blue eyes met yours, as if the world paused just for that brief moment.

His dirty blonde curls and tan skin ignited something deep inside you. Soon enough, the emptiness in your chest was replaced by the fierce pounding of your heart.

Pretty boys came with a lot of attention, though, meaning Billy Hargrove came with a lot of attention.

Every girl threw themselves at him the moment he set foot in Hawkins High. And who could blame them? With a face like his, he was downright gorgeous. If you had the courage, you'd throw yourself at him too.

But for now, simply admiring him from a distance would suffice.

You took pride in that though. Who else can say they had a perfect view of Billy Hargrove almost every night through their window?

You spent countless nights watching him smoke cigarettes outside on the hood of his Camaro, admiring the way the moonlight hit his face as he was in deep thought about God knows what.

It was pretty hard not to look at Billy other than those nights through your window though...

In Mrs. Clarke's biology class, you'd often catch yourself staring at him. He'd sense your gaze and once smirked back at you, letting you know he felt your eyes on him.

And God, he would never forget the look on your face—wide-eyed and embarrassed as hell.

He thought it was the funniest thing in the world and he found it quite entertaining.

He found you quite entertaining.

Billy was so accustomed to girls throwing themselves at him; it was something he had gotten used to since he hit puberty. And although he enjoyed all the flirtatious looks and comments girls threw at him, he eventually grew bored of it.

However, you and Billy shared a common craving. Whether it was for love, excitement, intimacy, or entertainment, both of you yearned for something more.

.

“Shit guys, we totally forgot to hang up banners in the gym for tomorrow's basketball game!” You screamed like a madwoman startling the entire student council.

With just two minutes left until dismissal, exhaustion hung heavy in the air. The entire week had been a relentless blur of preparation for the school's stupid pep rally and its accompanying activities. By this point, everyone, including you, was over it.

As the bell rang, everyone dashed out of the classroom as if their lives depended on it. They gave you apologetic looks, patted your shoulder, and mumbled every excuse imaginable to avoid putting up those banners in the school gym.

“So fuck me huh?!” you yelled after them, throwing both your arms up in frustration before dropping them in defeat.

As head of the student council, you couldn't afford to procrastinate. The principal had emphasized that those banners had to be up and ready for tomorrow's game, or there would be consequences. That prick didn't intimidate you in the slightest, but, you had a reputation to maintain, and everything had to be flawless.

You huffed and grumbled as you entered the gym, your arms hugging a variety of large banners needing to be hung up. Your frustration completely blinded you to the sight of the gym full of shirtless basketball players.

Suddenly, a basketball collided with your shoulder at full speed, knocking the banners out of your arms.

The gym erupted in laughter.

“This isn't the student council club you do know that right kooks?” Tommy H. yelled from the court, laughing, trying so hard to impress his dickhead teammates.

Kooks.

They had given you that nickname after the scene you caused at Tina's Halloween party last year. It's the reason you no longer associate yourself with that crowd.

You remember it like it was yesterday.

You arrived at Tina's party with Tommy and Carol by your side, just one week after your harrowing experience of getting stuck in the Upside Down. It probably wasn't the wisest decision to be out, and you knew it. You had been home, cutting class, and ignoring their calls, and they had noticed a change in you. You were easily irritable and on edge. Carol even made a snide comment about how you'd probably been hanging out with Munson, snorting too much Special K.

According to them, you were a real drag to be around. So, they dragged you out of the house, urging you to let loose and forget about whatever it was you were dealing with. And so you did. You drank until you couldn't feel anymore, indulging in anything and everything that was being passed around.

Carol was never truly your friend; she was someone you grew up with and were kind of forced to know. She never really cared for you, so it was no surprise when you overheard her snickering with a few girls from the cheer squad.

They all eyed you up and down as you drunkenly swayed to the music.

“Wonder what hell she's been living; she's out of fucking control,” Carol remarked, smacking her gum as she laughed with the girls next to her, rolling her eyes at you.

Your ears perked up at her words, and they echoed in your head on a relentless loop, amplified by the effects of alcohol and marijuana.

Hell. Hell. Hell.

Images from that fateful night flooded your mind—the frantic sprint through the woods, the desperate attempt to escape the unknown terror pursuing you. You ran until your lungs burned and your legs gave out, only to find yourself in a place that resembled home but felt like a nightmare. It was as though you had fallen into a pit and landed in a realm you could only describe as hell. Darkness enveloped everything, the air thick with swirling black particles, and a monstrous creature hunted you down as if you were its final prey.

Tears welled up at the memory, and you couldn't hold back any longer. You had been bottling up your emotions, feeling isolated because what you had experienced sounded utterly unbelievable.

You charged at Carol and shoved her into the wall, causing picture frames of Tina's seemingly perfect family to crash to the floor.

Like the breaking picture frames, the smiles masking their true essence shattered that night, much like your own exterior, revealing the turmoil within.

You started to laugh manically, tears spilling out of your eyes.

“Oh, Carol, you haven't seen hell,” you chuckled, leaning in to whisper in her ear. “It's right beneath this town, and it's anything but pretty. It's downright awful.”

Carol was frightened tears threatening to spill from her eyes, she felt powerless in this position.

“Hey! What the hell is your problem, Y/L/N? Get off of her!”Tommy yelled, rushing towards you and Carol, pulling you away from her.

You pushed him back. “Don't you dare put your fucking hands on me!” you yelled, your words laced with venom. He backed away, refocusing his attention on Carol, attempting to comfort her throbbing head.

The images flashed in your head: your screams, the Demogorgon, the overwhelming sense of isolation. You turned to face the party, and all eyes were on you as the music came to a sudden stop.

“How can you all just sit here and party,”you screamed, your voice growing louder, more terrifying with each word. Nobody dared to approach you or even attempt to calm you down. It was clear you were experiencing a psychotic break.

You hadn't spoken to Steve in months, ever since he started distancing himself from you, Tommy, and Carol. But you couldn't forget the moment when he threw you over his shoulder, with Nancy by his side, and dragged you out of that party.

That night, you cried until you fell asleep, finding comfort in the presence of Nancy Wheeler and your old friend Steve Harrington. When you woke up the next day, you found yourself in Nancy's bed, and they bombarded you with all sorts of questions. You ended up sharing the horrifying experiences you had down there, and for the first time in a long while, you didn't feel alone. Now, you were stuck with a new nickname and a family bonded by the traumas of the Upside Down.

You laughed at the memory but the anger you felt in the moment snapped you back to reality.

The basketball rolled to the side, catching your attention. With all eyes on you, including Billy's intrigued gaze, you felt an itch for release. Without a second thought, you picked up the ball and with one swift motion, threw it at full speed. It struck the side of Tommy's head, catching him completely by surprise as he was too preoccupied trying to make his teammates laugh.

“You do realize there's a basketball game tomorrow, right? Maybe you should practice your passes a little more, you fucking prick!” you shot back, mimicking his tone with a hint of venom.

The laughter in the gym was quickly replaced by a chorus of “oooh's,” and Tommy was visibly seething with anger, clutching the side of his head where the basketball had struck him.

“You're so lucky you're a girl, freak!” Tommy yelled, pointing his finger at you in frustration.

You smiled and flipped him the bird.

Your reaction sparked something in Billy's gut, a mix of amusement and something else. He couldn't help but burst into laughter, though you might not have noticed being too preoccupied with picking the banners up.

Before he even realized it, Billy found himself inexplicably drawn towards you, as if some invisible force was guiding his steps.

Like his legs had minds of their own.

“That was quite a throw,” a deep, angelic voice sounded from behind you. Shit, you had totally forgotten he was here.

“Those throws are especially reserved for dickheads,” you retorted without turning around, your face turning as red as a tomato.

Billy's chuckle caught you off guard, something you never thought you'd hear up close. As you started to walk off to finish what you came here for, you heard him clear his throat, stopping you in your tracks.

“Aren't you forgetting something?” he questioned, giving you no choice but to turn around and see what he was referring to.

And god all mighty

There he was, shirtless. His tan skin glistened with sweat, revealing defined abs and muscular arms. Geez, you could've passed out right then and there.

He wore a proud smirk, revealing a perfect set of teeth as he held out the tape you needed for the banners. You almost drooled at the sight of him, feeling your core heat up and your cheeks flush.

“Oh, uh—thanks” you nervously said, quickly grabbing the tape from his hand. Surprisingly, you still maintained eye contact. God, he loved the effect he had on you.

“You need any help with those?” he chuckled once again. That's twice now; one more and you might just jump on him.

“Don’t you have to get ready for tomorrow’s game?” You asked timidly.

Jesus, why did you care?

“They can’t overwork their star player sweetheart.” He winked, once again flashing his pearly whites

You died and went to heaven at this point.

Sweetheart? That wink?

Your mouth hung open and he left you speechless, like a crazed fan girl. You started to wonder how he’d look at you if you were on your knees taking all of him.

How he’d talk to you..

“Look at you taking all of me sweetheart.”

God you really needed to get your shit together.

“Come on sweetheart don’t leave me hanging,” he said as he waved his hand in your face, trying to bring you back to reality.

He really needed to stop calling you that.

“Um, yeah, I guess I could use a little help,” you said, swallowing harshly. Your gaze shifted from the banners in your hands to his lips.

You really hated how flustered you got around him but a small part of you loved these new feelings.

“Great.” he responded with a cheeky grin.

You found yourself not being much help; he took charge and handled the banner hanging almost entirely by himself. He insisted on doing it, claiming it was the gentlemanly thing to do.

Tommy looked over at the two of you, confused. Billy Hargrove being a gentleman, especially to the psycho? Hell must've frozen over, he thought.

With Billy taking on the work, you had no choice but to stand there, looking all pretty, as you ripped pieces of tape with your mouth and passed them to him. You guided him on how to position the banners into place.

You couldn't help but notice the way his back muscles flexed when he reached up to position the banner, sending a flutter through your stomach.

You’d never been this close to him.

It also didn’t help that he brushed his fingers against yours every time he went to grab a piece of tape from you. And with him on the stool, towering above you, looking down at you, there was plenty of room for imagination for you both.

You were convinced he was trying to fucking kill you. Was he aware of the effect he had on you?

Every touch from him sent every single nerve in your body into a frenzy.

And those were just your fingers; you could only imagine what would happen if his fingers touched the spot you longed for him the most.

In the past few weeks, Billy had noticed that he was always running into you one way or another. So, he decided he might as well make it fun.

You were different from the girls he usually pursued, and he liked that. It made things all the more exciting. Billy had learned a few things about you: you were timid but had a backbone, responsible (an assumption he made because you were the student council president), and not too worried about your appearance, which didn't really matter because you were already breathtakingly beautiful.

“LADIES, HUDDLE UP! HARGROVE, GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE!” Coach Williams's voice rang out, snapping both you and Billy out of your thoughts.

Billy climbed off the step stool and leaned in towards your ear, catching you completely by surprise. He whispered, "Glad I can be of help, sweetheart. If you need help with anything else, I'm only one house away." With a smirk, he pulled back and left to return to his team captain duties.

The hot of this breath made your body shiver.

The look on your face was embarrassing, with your cheeks hot and your mouth slightly hanging open. Billy would never forget it; in fact, the mere sight of your mouth hanging open made him twitch in his pants as his imagination ran wild once again.

Your thoughts wouldn't allow you peace of mind as you finished tidying up the banners into place. Lost in thought, you hadn't even noticed that everyone had already left the gym, leaving you alone in the empty space.

The sound of the door gym doors opening startled you, snapping you back to reality.

You smiled at the sight of the tall brunette.

“Ah if it isn’t King Steve” you say teasingly, “or should I say EX King Steve who has been dethroned by the new California hottie.” You tease poking at his face

“Ha. Ha. Ha.” Steve replied dryly swatting your fingers away, taking fake offense to your comment.

Steve could care less about his so called “throne” he had new priorities, which consisted of ooking after you and his newfound family of children.

“Very funny y/n,” he said sarcastically.

Steve couldn't help but wonder if you and Billy had been hanging out. He had noticed how fond you had grown of him ever since he stepped into town. Lately, he had observed a change in your demeanor, how excited you were to get home, and how your face lit up at the sound of Billy's name. Steve could practically feel the butterflies radiating off of you.

“Hanging around is pushing it, Steve. We're just neighbors,” you reply, with a slight blush on your face that doesn’t go unnoticed by Steve.

“Yeah, I don't blush when someone mentions Agatha, my next-door neighbor,” he scoffs, shivering at the thought of his creepy stalker neighbor.

You roll your eyes at him, though it's quickly replaced with a smirk. “Well, Billy isn't a creepy stalker,”you say, though you wouldn't mind if he was. “Plus, he's kinda hot,”you finish, nudging his shoulder as you two make your way out of the gym.

“Yeah, gross,” Steve dramatically gags, though he also cringes at the slight twinge of jealousy he keeps feeling in his stomach.

You and Steve never hooked up. However, you two did develop some weird feelings for each other, but it was probably because you were so close to dying together.

You frown at the memory you thought was going to be the last.

Vines from the Upside Down began to wrap around your neck and body. Steve was right next to you, suffering the same fate. He looked at you, his heart breaking at the fear in your eyes. Trying to bring you some comfort, he gathered as much strength as he could and reached his hand out for yours, interlocking them together.

Thankfully, Eddie and Dustin saved you and everyone who thought it would be a bright idea to fight off Vecna. Ever since that day, though, Steve has been attached to your hip, making sure you get home safely after school and always ensuring you aren't alone.

Sometimes he'd find himself gazing at your lips or absentmindedly brushing away strands of hair that danced across your face on a windy day.

Steve didn’t know where you two stood. Neither of you had made a move, and he was too afraid to make one and face rejection.

You weren't sure how you felt about Steve, but you knew how you felt about Billy, and that feeling was becoming increasingly difficult to brush off.

“Coach still benching you for tomorrow's game?” you ask, changing the subject immediately. You regret it the moment you see the disappointment on Steve's face.

Basketball was his first love and ever since Billy got to town he’s slowly been losing the love he once held for the game.

He ran a hand through his messy head of hair and sighed.

“Yeah, thanks to your boy toy over there,” Steve says, glaring at the blonde who was a car away from Steve's. You wrap your arms around him as you two reach his burgundy BMW.

“You're a great player, Steve,” you state matter of factly, squeezing him a little tighter. “I think everything that's been going on—the Upside Down, us fighting interdimensional monsters, and almost dying—has taken a toll on you.” You reassure him and then let go to look into his eyes.

“It's normal to have a little setback; it's understandable. Plus, you've saved the world multiple times!” you said, slapping his chest lightly. “That beats being a starter on the stupid Hawkins High basketball team any day.”You finished, smiling at him.

Steve’s eyes softened at your words and smiled.

Christ, this is exactly why his feelings were a mess for you.

Steve brought you in for a tight hug because words couldn’t express how grateful he was for you.

From the next car down, Billy observed the two of you and couldn't shake the thought: had you and Harrington ever been a thing? The idea unsettled him because Billy Hargrove didn’t want to share you.

.

Steve dropped you off at home, as he usually did. He would usually stay for a bit and keep you company, but tonight he promised Dustin he’d take him to Mike’s for their D&D campaign.

You walked into the house, which was eerily quiet and empty, as it always was. Switching on the kitchen light, you noticed a note attached to the fridge.

Be back in the morning. Love you. -Dad

You sighed as a your traced your finger up down the note.

Your father traveled for work most of the time as a tech service representative for a variety of chemical companies. He'd often be gone for days, sometimes even weeks, so being alone was something you had grown accustomed to.

Your relationship with your father was also very complicated. You would even say it was nonexistent, given that he was always gone, and when he was around, he'd sleep the days away.

You pretended like it didn’t bother you but deep down it was something that made the cavity in your heart unbearable.

You weren't completely alone, though. Steve and you bonded over your shared loneliness, as both of his parents were also always away on business trips, calling only once a week, if he was lucky.

He'd often spend the night at your place, or you'd spend the night at his, rewatching ‘The Breakfast Club’ or ‘Sixteen Candles,’ his personal favorite, although he wouldn't admit that to anyone.

The bond between you two wasn't solely fueled by loneliness; fear played a significant role as well. It was the fear of that night—the night your friends almost died—that kept you together.

You felt goosebumps travel throughout your body at the thought of it. You instantly shook it off and decided to wash your feelings away with a warm, hot shower. You dreaded the night to come because of the insomnia you developed this past year of living in this small town. But thankfully, you had a couple of your favorite romance novels on deck to keep you occupied throughout the night.

You slipped into one of Eddie’s well-worn Metallica tees, its length reaching down to your knees. It was a keepsake from the day you and the gang had spent the night at his trailer, after an exciting evening of sneaking into the Hawkins community pool.

It was one of your favorite memories you’ve made in this shit town.

After slipping on the tee, you put on some black laced panties you pulled from you drawer.

You glanced over to your window, partially covered by your curtains, and wondered what the dirty blonde was up to. Curious, you walked over and took a peek, wondering where he was because he was usually out at this time, either smoking a cigarette or sitting in his car, or doing both at once.

Like clockwork, he slammed his front door, grabbing the red lighter he always kept in his back pocket and reaching it to the cigarette hanging out of his pink lips.

He cupped the cigarette out of habit and lit it, inhaling the silent killer.

He then hopped onto the hood of his car and reclined, still smoking the cigarette as he gazed at the starlit sky, lost in deep thought.

You wanted to join him, eager to learn more about the California boy, even if he didn't show interest in you. Something inside you just needed to know who Billy Hargrove was.

You also wanted to try to settle the intense feelings coursing through your body.

You stared at him for what felt like a lifetime, admiring his chiseled jawline, how his pretty blue eyes looked in the moonlight, and the rhythmic pattern of his inhaling and exhaling cigarette smoke.

Fuck you cigarette.

You envied his cigarettes.

You wanted to be inhaled and exhaled like that, and you didn’t even care if you were disregarded like them when he was done.

Billy felt your gaze through the window, and as he smirked, you couldn't help but notice. Despite being caught, you couldn't suppress a smile of your own.

Billy sat up and looked directly into your window. Your face grew flustered as you two made eye contact, but you held it, unable to look away.

You pushed yourself to do something you found so uncomfortable and you ignored the negative thoughts running through your head.

Billy tossed his cigarette to the ground and he was about to pick up a new one.

That being you.

You quickly threw on some discarded sweats from the floor and made your way to the front door. As you wrapped your hand around the doorknob, you hesitated for a minute. Nervousness gripped you, but you were determined to make things different this year. You wanted to push yourself beyond your comfort zone. No longer content with just fantasizing about romance, you wanted to live it, even if it meant risking a broken heart in the process. After all, at least you'd have a story to tell.

The cool night breeze kissed your face, sending shivers down your spine as you stepped out of your door. Closing it behind you, you were wrapped in darkness, illuminated only by the soft glow of the streetlights. Your heart raced as you descended off the few steps of your front porch.

As you turned the corner, you were met with Billy Hargrove's infuriating smirk. It would've been irritating if you didn't harbor this crush for him. With determination, you walked in front of his car, mere inches away from where he sat. Your heart threatened to beat out of your chest.

“Hi,” you spoke up slightly out of breath. Billy knew it was nervousness that caused you to sound that way.

You think back to the conversation you had earlier in the day.

“If you ever need help with anything, I’m only one house away.”

You wanted something. You knew what you wanted, and you knew what him meant by it, but you didn’t want to jump his bones immediately. You wanted to get to know him, and maybe that was foolish of you given his reputation, but you didn’t care. You knew you couldn't judge someone based on rumors.

“Hi, Y/N,” Billy greeted with a chuckle, his eyes roaming over your figure. He noticed your shirt and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“You listen to Metallica?” Billy questioned, his gaze shifting to Eddie's worn-out black tee. "Oh, this?" you said, grabbing onto the thin material of your shirt. “No, it's a friend's. He let me borrow it,” you partially explained, letting out a shaky laugh.

“Hmm, didn't peg Harrington for the metal type either,” Billy remarked, assumingly lighting yet another cigarette.

"You think Steve's my only male friend?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. "You have more than one?" Billy questioned back, the movement of lighting his cigarette coming to a short pause, his eyes widening momentarily. Billy could take Harrington, but any other male suitors would be a problem for him.“Is that a problem, Hargrove?” you questioned, once again amused by his reaction. Was he jealous?

He laughed and took a drag from his cigarette. He looked so beautiful like this, the view from your window couldn’t compare to the view you had right now. Despite the chill outside, you felt a warmth spreading through you.

“Not that I can’t compete with Harrington and?” He asked waiting for you to provide the name of said friend.

Compete?

“Eddie,” you said filling in the blank for him. “Ah, Munson, the freak,” he chuckled, taking yet another drag from his cigarette.

“You do know you’re talking to right? You remark, raising an eyebrow at him hinting that you fell into the same category as Eddie.

“Never said I had a problem with ‘freaks’,” he said smiling, as he looked down at your lips before meeting your gaze. “If I’m being honest they’re my favorite types of people.” He added licking his lips.

You gulped as his intense gaze met yours. He was undeniably gorgeous. The ache between your legs begged for relief, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he noticed, especially when he then asked,

“Come sit,” he said, making space for you on the hood of his car. You obliged, sitting on the cool surface, crossing your legs, relieving some type of pressure. “You smoke?” he asked, handing you the lit cigarette. You took the cigarette, his warm fingers slightly touching your cold ones.

“Nope, but there's a first time for everything, right?” you smiled, taking a drag of the cigarette. The sensation immediately made you almost cough out a lung and you hadn’t even inhaled it completely. Billy laughed once again and slid his hand onto your back, lightly patting it attempting to ease your coughing fit.

You handed the cigarette back to him and laughed, the coughing fit dying down. “Yeah, first and last time doing that. God, that is nothing like weed,” you remarked.

Billy removed his hand from your back, and you couldn't help but groan slightly at the loss of touch. He looked at you with an amused smile. "I could only imagine how you reacted to hitting a joint," he said with a grin.

“Oh, trust me, it was nothing like that. I almost died just now,”you said as you wiped the tears that formed in your eyes from coughing.

You leaned back on his car like he did on countless nights and looked up at the starlit sky. Billy did the same after putting out his cigarette. "The only good thing about this shit town is how pretty the sky looks at night," you said. He looked up at the sky and thought the same. There were so many stars, each one representing hope.

"And the rain," he added, which surprised you. “But you're from California, it’s all sun over there!” You exclaimed, giggling a bit.

“Yeah, I know,” he smiled at your excitement. “It hardly rains over there, but I loved it when it did,” he said, reminiscing about his life in California.

“I liked sitting in my car and listening to the rain; it brings me some sort of peace of mind. Especially here, it's stronger and louder, drowns out the thoughts,” he added, tapping his head in a playful manner.

You smiled at his explanation.

“It makes me feel like a kid again,” you added, your voice soft with nostalgia. "Running around, no jacket, laughing, feeling the water down your face and drenching your clothes. Sometimes I sit outside and look up at the sky, enjoying the way it feels on my face," you said, still smiling at the sky above.

Billy turned his head to look at you now, and you were oblivious to it for the first time. He felt his heart skip a beat at your explanation and the way you smiled at the sky full of stars. From that moment on, Billy was determined to know more about you.

You two continued talking, giggling, sneaking glances at each other, but it all came to a halt when you both heard a loud slam from the door of his house. A man in his mid-40s descended down the stairs of Billy’s front porch and made his way towards you both. Billy straightened up immediately at the sight of this man.

“It’s late,” the man spat, keeping his eyes on Billy, completely ignoring your presence. “Get inside; you need to take Maxine and yourself to school tomorrow.”

“Hi, sir,”you timidly intervened. “I'm Y/N. I live next door. I'm sorry for keeping Billy out so late. We were just talking about class, and I lost track of time.” You finished

Billy looked at you in shock as if you said something out of turn.

He looked you up and down with a deadpanned look before giving you a tight-lipped smile and nodded. Then, he gave Billy a warning glance before leaving. Odd. You thought.

You noticed the shift in Billy’s demeanor he was noticeably uncomfortable and even seemed scared. Billy took a deep breath after his father left and ran a hand over his face, visibly tense.

“You okay?” You carefully asked not wanting to overstep any boundaries.

“Yeah, I will be,”he exhaled, mustering up a small smile. “Thank you for tonight. I'll see you around, Y/N.” With that, he left. You waited until he made it inside and you returned home yourself.

As you stepped into the house, the loneliness of it consumed you once again. But you disregarded it, shaking it off, because a bigger part of you felt content and happy.

.

Billy grew accustomed to loneliness; sometimes, he even preferred it. But when he saw how present his friends' parents were in their lives, the loneliness spread and often consumed him. His mother was gone, her whereabouts unknown, leaving him abandoned and stuck with his monstrous father. He had the shell of a parental figure, but in reality, his father was a bully, a coward. This left Billy feeling trapped and hopeless, like a prisoner in his own home, with no one to relate to, no one to vent to, nothing.

When Billy made it inside his house he had already prepared himself for the worst. His father was seated on the sofa waiting for him to come in.

“I'm sorry, sir, I lost track of—“ Neil raised his hand to stop him from explaining, and like a trained soldier, Billy shut his mouth immediately. Neil stood up, making his way towards him. Billy flinched as Neil raised his hand, and to Billy’s surprise, he patted his shoulder. Billy furrowed his brows in confusion; he hated his father's touch. “Nice girl,” Neil remarked before walking past him and heading to his room.

What the fuck?

Anger coursed through Billy’s veins, his heart beating furiously in his chest. Why you? What the hell was so special about you that had Neil Hargrove's fatherly approval? Billy scoffed. He didn’t care if he'd get beatings for what he had planned or about your feelings at the moment, but he was going to royally piss his father off. Fuck his approval. He didn’t want it nor did he care for or it.

Billy disregarded his strong feelings for you and decided to be the dick he knew himself to be.

Tags:

#eddie munson #stranger things #billy hargrove #dacre montgomery #billy hargrove x reader #steve harrington #steve x reader #nancy wheeler #billy hargrove smut #steve x billy #billyhargroveseries #Steve x female reader #billy hargrove x female reader

[hoegrove]

insp

#steve harrington #max mayfield #harringrove #harringroveedit #hoegrove gifs #my gifs #billy hargrove #angsty?? maybe? idk #billy knows steve would come looking for him #but he thinks it's too dangerous #so.... yeah #i dont have a story just bits and pieces

[ickypuppi3]

sorry to be a hater but the whole ‘mom steve’ ‘babysitter steve’ thing is quite literally one of the worst things to have ever happened to his character

#changed society for the worse #and it’s not even canon #i hate it i hate it i hate it #and you know what #so does steve #hashtag not my steve #get him out of there #i’m laughing but i feel physical pain over it #theres not one good thing that’s come out of this #i need eveyone to understand that i’m all for fanon steve #but it’s like the way the popularity of that ended up bleeding over into what everyone thinks of his character in canon #and to how they write him now #he’s literally barely even a character #remember when he did all that in s1 #remember when he kinda rocked billy’s shit in s2 #yeah that’s my steve #he would be a better character if he was allowed to spend time with billy and maybe kiss him on the lips but no #couldn’t have that #and now look at the fandom #yeah exactly #i’ll never forgive them for what they took from me never #that goes to the duffers the writers the billy antis all of them #give me my favourite asshole back #he genuinely used to be my favourite character when s1 first aired #like him tommy and carol where where it was at for me #i feel conned

[ur-fav-alien]

Okay so I watched ep.4 of s4 "Dear Billy" and I have thoughts... specifically thoughts about what would go down in the series if Billy was alive.

So I think it would be kinda obvious that he would be in Max's spot with the whole getting Vecna'd thing (Max would still be alive obvio Billy is just built different and survives the Mind Flayer). Then that whole Dear Billy scene happend and I started thinking even more of how it would go down if Billy was in Max's place. Obviously the letter would be to his mom, because why would it be for Neil? But then comes the question, where would Billy go to read this letter? If his mom is dead why would there be a grave in Hawkins for her, that doesn't make sense. So imagine they're all driving and Billy randomly says "turn here" and everyone is like "that's the woods?" and he knows that's the woods and he stil makes them turn there.

Insert Billy walking into this small clearing in the woods where he's made a makeshift grave for his mother because he has absolutly no idea where the fuck she is and for all he knows, she could be dead. WHICH IS SO FUCKING SAD. And then I started thinking about that scene between Vecna!Billy + Max and how he's saying Max feels guilty that she's glad that Billy's dead and like with Billy what if it's Vecna posing as Billy's mom and just kinda of berating him about what he's turned into due his father's abuse like: "Billy... my sweet Billy, what have you turned into? I don't even know who you are anymore... you look so much like your father... Billy I'm scared of you" And Billy is just sobbing

I would cry. I would cry like a shit ton.

#??? I don't fucking know' #And steve blurts out 'kate bush!' and they all look a thim like 'why the fuck do you know that?' #Every scene w/ the Hawkins gang I'm just trying to figure out how Alive!Billy would squeeze into that situation. #He had to quit basketball because his pyshical therapy was taking too much of his time and the stress was getting to him #or he's more the assistant coach because he was told to take it easy a million times but still wanted to be involved #That moment between max + Lucas in ep.4 is just Billy + Steve but they're both whispering because the kids are right there lol #also that scene between Nancy + Steve is more Nancy handing him a file and being like 'you're daniel now' because she intended on him comin #and He's just like #Billy Hargrove #Harringrove #you wanna know how this is Harringrove?? #When Dustin comes over holding a bunch of Billy's tapes he asks Max 'what's his favorite' and Max is like no I can't. I need to stay with B #but that doesn't mean their gay? whaatt no way #They're just best friends Nancy. Why would you think any different? #sorry this is a lot of tags

[steddiealltheway]

"You're dead, Harrington!"

Steve sprints off down the hall, making a sharp left turn in hopes of losing him. He looks around at the doors, eyes settling on the drama room. Yeah, no one would guess that he would go in there.

He runs and easily pulls the door open, softly closing it behind him, leaning against the door to listen for Billy.

"You can't run from me!" he yells, somewhere outside in the hallway.

Shit.

Steve backs up a bit until he runs into something, and suddenly there's a hand covering his mouth with rings digging into his cheek while a bit of silver glints in his eyes. "Don't freak out, Harrington. I'm here to help. Hide behind the red curtain."

The guy lets him go, and Steve whips around taking in the guy everyone calls "The Freak." He just raises his eyebrows at him, so Steve takes the hint and darts behind the red curtains behind a throne of some kind.

There's a slight creaking, then Steve hears the door swing open and slam against the wall.

"Billy Hargrove. I didn't know you were interested in theatre," the freak says smugly. Eddie? That's his name, right?

"I'm not," Billy grits out. "I'm looking for Harrington. Seen him anywhere, freak?"

"Why would he be in here?"

Steve hears heavy footsteps as he walks closer to the curtain. "That's not what I asked," Billy says darkly.

"Well, I answered, didn't I?" Eddie replies, voice low with an undertone of danger. Shit, Steve didn't know he had it in him. "If you're so dense, then let me clarify. I haven't seen him. Now get lost or you'll never find him before lunch is over."

There's a pause, and Steve is certain that a fight is about to break out. Only, nothing really happens until Billy says, "One day you're going to pay for that, freak."

"Looking forward to it," Eddie says sarcastically.

A few seconds later and the door closes. There's a click that sounds like the lock turning which has Steve peeking out of the curtain.

"You can come out now."

Steve steps outside the curtain slowly, making sure this isn't some sort of sick joke. But he doesn't think Billy is that much of a planner, he's too impulsive.

When he doesn't spot him, Steve says, "Thanks. It's Eddie, right?"

The other boy looks surprised and even gets a small smile on his face. "Yeah."

"I'm Steve," he introduces himself, sticking out his hand and everything.

He gets a scoff and a, "Yeah, I know," in response, but Eddie still takes his hand and shakes it.

"I like your rings," Steve says genuinely. They're cool really. He wishes he would wear something like that without his parents and teammates getting onto him about it.

"Thanks," Eddie says, pulling a bit of his hair in front of his hair. It's cute really, almost like he's flustered.

Huh. He'll unpack that thought later.

"How did you get Billy to back off like that? I've never seen anyone do that." He can't help but be in a bit of awe about the whole thing.

Eddie chuckles. "I supply his weed. He knows better than to hurt me."

"Mabe I should start selling him weed then."

Eddie laughs loudly, showing off his dimples. Steve can't help but smile back.

"Hey," Eddie says, making his way to the throne and sitting back. "What did you do to get him that riled up anyways?"

Steve groans and takes a seat at the table in front of Eddie. "I know his little sister, Max. I just asked him how she was doing, and he freaked out. I think he misunderstood my tone."

Eddie laughs again, and Steve starts to believe that maybe the whole thing was worth it to see the boy's smile.

A silence settles between them, but Steve doesn't mind. It gives him a chance to look at him more.

It must fluster Eddie again because he ducks his head down and shakes his head.

"What?" Steve can't help but ask.

Eddie looks back at him. "Nothing, I just can't believe that Steve Harrington is sitting at my D and D table."

D&D... "Oh, that's like Dungeons and Dragons, right?"

Eddie's jaw drops. "You know what Dungeons and Dragons is?"

Steve shrugs. "My friend plays it, but he's in middle school, so you wouldn't know him. But hey, that's where the demogorgan thing comes from, right?"

Eddie continues to stare at him in disbelief mumbling something under his breath like He's friends with middle schoolers, and he knows what a demogorgan is. What the hell? Am I dreaming? He shakes his head and says clearly, "Yeah, yeah, that's where the Demogorgan comes from."

Another silence settles between them, and Steve doesn't know why he says it but he asks, "So, do you have a girlfriend?"

Once again, it looks like Eddie is about to have a meltdown, but Steve stands his ground. He's curious really.

Eddie shifts in his seat a bit uncomfortably before quietly asking, "Haven't you heard the rumors?"

Steve leans back in his seat and scratches his face absentmindedly. He's heard about "The Freak" before, but he didn't really pay much attention. He knows he sells weed. He failed senior year once or twice, he forgot how many times people said. And he once heard that he's a...

Oh.

"So, do you have a boyfriend then?"

Eddie freezes, fear evident all over his tense body.

"It's fine if you do," Steve assures him.

Eddie runs both his hands over his face and questions out loud, "Am I dreaming?"

"Do you dream about me often?" Steve flirts, leaning forward on the table. He can't help it, he likes how affected Eddie is by him.

Eddie looks at him for a solid fifteen seconds, tongue running over his top lip and brows furrowed in deep thought. He relaxes against his chair with a sigh. "You're not at all what people say you are."

Steve shrugs, uncomfortable that the topic has turned to be about him. "I try not to be."

"It's a good thing," Eddie says.

Steve smiles. He didn't know how much he needed to hear that.

The bell rings, and Steve feels a pang of disappointment.

"Hey," Eddie says as he stands up alongside Steve. He reaches into his black metal lunchbox and pulls out a sandwich in a little bag and a banana. He tears the sandwich in half and offers it to Steve along with the banana. "It isn't much, but I doubt you ate lunch. Have to keep all our star players in shape, right?" he asks with a wink.

Steve wishes he could stay longer to see him relax more. He takes them both, unpeeling the banana quickly while asking, "Is that weed in there?"

"Among other things."

Steve laughs and takes a large bite of the banana that has Eddie looking away, turning a light shade of red. Now he really wishes he could stay longer.

He finishes his bite and says, "Hey, it was really nice to meet you by the way."

"You too," Eddie says with a soft smile, finally looking back at him.

The warning bell rings.

Steve sighs. "I'll see you around, and hey, pass on a word to the next D and D leader about Dustin Henderson, will you?"

"Will do," Eddie says, and Steve's glad that it sounds like a promise.

He heads to the door and unlocks it quickly, pausing to rush back and press a soft kiss on Eddie's cheek. "Thank you again," he says before rushing out of the room with his heart pounding and a blush spreading over his face.

He can't help but think that he should thank Billy for being such an asshole.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie ficlet

[lovebugism]

Im a very indecisive person but I guess I'll go with “Surprise, I have feelings and you just hurt them.” with Eddie, if you have any inspiration for this prompt 💕

ty for requesting!! — you get mean when you like someone, so eddie thinks you hate him (grump!reader, enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, shameless succession reference, 1.9k)

“Please, tell me you’re joking,” you mumble through the melting vanilla shake on your tongue.

Robin grins at you across the table and shakes her head. “Nope,” she says, popping the p. “You are officially looking at Vicki Carmichael’s latest odyssey.”

You and Eddie look over your shoulder at Steve. He stands at the front counter and fumbles with the straw dispenser — hitting the lever repeatedly, with an increasingly rougher touch when nothing comes out. He flounders when they all spill out at once. 

He’s lucky he’s so pretty.

“Wait, I’m confused,” Eddie announces from beside you after stealing a sip of your milkshake. He squints and fights off a brain freeze. “Why didn’t he just tell us? He’s screwing the hottest girl in town— it feels like something he’d brag about.”

“I’m sitting right here,” you scoff, mostly kidding.

“‘Cause he knew you guys would totally ream him for it,” Robin answers and pinches fry crumbs into her mouth. Through a mouthful of them, she says, “It’s not like you’re usually supportive about this kinda stuff.”

“I’m all for Steve being a slut, okay?” you defend with your hands up in surrender. “But I do draw the line at my best friend fucking the girl who bullied me in high school.”

“What’d she do?” Eddie asks. You can’t tell if he really cares or if he just wants something new to laugh at you for, but you decide to humor him anyway.

“She cut out the boobs of my gym shirt before class because she knew if I dressed out again, I was getting detention,” you explain, smiling when it makes the table laugh. “I had to run the mile with my bright pink sports bra showing, but at least my record was clean.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Steve wonders aloud when he returns to the table, carrying the only straw that hadn’t fallen to the floor. He slides into the booth next to Robin and looks at the three of you expectantly.

“Nothing.” the brunette girl chirps.

“You,” Eddie deadpans.

You squint. “Real smooth, Munson.”

“Wait, what?”

Eddie laughs. “I mean, Vicki Carmichael? Seriously?”

Steve gapes at Robin, features yawned in betrayal. “You told them?” 

The girl shrugs, taking a big bite of her burger and playing coy.

“She’s hot and everything, but she’s really not your type, man.”

Steve’s eyes narrow across the table. “What’s that supposed to mean, freak?”

“She likes bad boys,” you answer for him, shrugging like it’s obvious. “You know, the Billy Hargrove types. With tattoos and leather jackets and long hair. And, no offense, but you’re the furthest thing from that.”

“I think you just described me, doll,” Eddie laughs.

“Weren’t you screwing around with Billy Hargrove a couple months ago?” Steve wonders with a knowing, honeyed squint.

“Shut up, Harrington,” you bite.

Eddie grins with all his teeth, pink and boyish and proud. “Oh, so you’re screwing guys that are just like me now, huh? I’m flattered.”

“If anything, you’re the dollar store version of Billy Hargrove, Munson,” you retort with a roll of your eyes, turning your attention to the milkshake in front of you. You stab holes in the thick ice cream and try to ignore the sudden attention.

All the eyes on you make you nervous. You were never good at being the butt of the joke. ‘Cause when you get embarrassed, you get mean. Like some kinda hurt dog.

“You have everything but the looks.”

“Fuck off,” Eddie snorts and snatches the frosted glass away from you. He slides it over to his side of the table and sips from the straw that has your lipstick stained on the tip of it. “You can’t insult me—”

“Can’t I?”

“—Not when you’re fucking a carbon copy of me,” he scoffs and tries to ignore the jealousy burning wildfires behind his ribcage.

“He’s nothing like you,” you insist.

“He’s exactly like me. Just blonde. And watered down,” Eddie argues, face twisted with disgust. He smiles when it makes everyone else laugh but you. “I mean, it’s kinda sad, actually. I turned you down, so you had to try it out with Hargrove?”

“I didn’t try it, first of all, I fucking conquered it,” you retort, not exactly joking but grinning when it makes Steve and Robin chuckle to themselves. “And second of all, I never wanted you, Munson. So there was never anything to turn down.”

Your words sting somewhere deep in his chest. Like there’s a knife lodged deep in his heart that aches every time he breathes. He doesn’t know what to do with this hurt other than hurt you back. 

“So that night you told me you liked me after my show— that was all a lie?” he asks, smirking to hide his ache.

Robin’s eyes go wide as she bites into her burger. “What is this? A sleepover?” she scoffs with her mouth full. “Why is everyone telling each other’s secrets?”

“You started it, Buckley,” Steve quips before stealing one of her fries.

Your answer is immediate. A total lie, but instant nonetheless. No one’s gonna out-insult you. Rarely ever do you come out of petty arguments without having drawn the most blood.

“Yeah! You bombed, and I felt bad, and I wanted to make you feel better,” you confess with a sinister giggle. “What I really wanted to say is that I wish your mom had given birth to a can opener because at least then it might be good at something.”

Eddie meets your smirk with a glower, something genuinely pained that makes your chest sting. You refuse to show it, though. Not even when he slides out of the booth. “Yeah, okay. Fuck you,” he mumbles to himself as he goes.

“What?” you scoff a cynical laugh.

“C’mon,” Steve murmurs quietly to you. “That was a little too far.”

“Oh, so he can make fun of me, but I can make fun of him?”

“It’s different. You know that.”

You roll your eyes even though you know he’s right. Eddie’s a clown, but he means well. He’s a dumbass because he doesn’t know how to be serious about anything, but he’s hardly ever outright mean. 

You’re made of something more hardened than that. You set fires all around you, and only when a person walks through it do you know they really care. You don’t mean to be so mean half the time. It’s a defense mechanism more than anything. A time-bomb you never really learned to defuse.

“It was a joke, Eds!” you shout as he storms the short distance to the entrance of the diner.

“Well, surprise. I have feelings—” he grins, though there’s little emotion behind it. The door dings over his head when he shoves it open. He reaches for the crushed packet of cigarettes in his pocket. “—And you just hurt them.”

The diner feels strangely silent with him gone. The air feels noticeably heavy, too. 

You reach for the milkshake he left on his side of the table and slide it audibly back over to you. You don’t sip from it, though. Your stomach’s too much in knots now. You just busy your fidgeting hands with it, holding the frosted glass in your delicate palms until they ache.

“Stop staring at me,” you mumble, not meeting the silent looks Robin and Steve give you across the booth.

“Go talk to him before you give him a complex.”

“Yeah,” the boy hums with a knowing smile. “Go kiss and make up.”

“Shut up,” you bite with a scrunched-together face. You deflate with a sigh. “Fine. I’ll go— but not because you told me to.”

You hear them laugh quietly to themselves as you walk out behind Eddie. 

He leans against the corner of the old building and blows smoke from his lungs. He looks relatively unfazed despite the circumstances. You swallow down the worry that you’re embarrassing yourself by being out here at all.

Your shoes scuff against the sidewalk as you near him. “Eds—”

“I’m fine,” he interjects before you can say anything real. “You don’t need to apologize.”

“Well, it’s too late. Steve and Robin already kicked me out here, so…” You trail off in a monotone, despite having already declared that you were out here not because you were told to be. He doesn’t need to know that, though. “…I’m sorry.”

He takes a puff of the cigarette between his fingers, then shrugs on the exhale. “Okay.”

“The can opener thing was stupid— I mean, it wasn’t nice either, but it was a really dumb joke,” you ramble without taking a single breath. You cross your arms over yourself in a makeshift shield. “You didn’t even bomb that night. At your show or whatever. I lied. You were… You were actually really good.”

Eddie turns his head slowly. He blinks at you with chocolate eyes sparkling with amusement.

You cower under his stare. “What?”

“I know what you’re doing,” he insists with a crooked smile.

“What?” you repeat, forcing a laugh.

“You’re fucking with me,” he chuckles and brings the cig back to his mouth. He mumbles through the stick. “But it’s cool, you know? I can cope.”

“I’m being serious, Eddie,” you argue. And then, when your chest starts to sting, it becomes impossible not to make a joke. “I think you’re a… super-talented superstar—”

“You’re such a fucking bitch,” he interjects with a sincere laugh, like honey and gunpowder.

You giggle, and the foreign tension ebbs.

“I’m just kidding,” you assure and prop your back against the wall beside him. “Well, I mean, I’m not, but I…” You stammer when you can’t find the words. You gesture wildly with your hands. “I do think you’re talented, it’s just— It’s hard for me to be serious, okay? But I am sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he assures, tossing the cigarette to the ground and snuffing the ash with his sneaker. “Trust me. I know what you mean.”

You swallow hard. “And I wasn’t… What I said to you that night, in your van after the show… I wasn’t lying.”

Eddie’s head snaps up. He blinks at you with a gaping gaze, even though you’re not looking at him to see it. You’re much more focused on the dumpster across the street, lest you meet his eyes and get embarrassed all over again. 

This is the realest you’ve ever been with him, you think — since you told him you liked him and he all but turned you down.

Being vulnerable has been impossible since then.

“Then why’d you never talk to me about it again?” he asks, then stammers over himself. “You acted like it never even happened— I thought I fucking— like, dreamt it or some shit.”

“Because you didn’t say anything back! I thought you didn’t feel the same way!”

“I was just— I was just shocked. You always act like you hate me!”

“Because I like you, you idiot!” you blurt before you mean to, then huff with impatience at yourself. “Fuck. Sorry. I don’t know… I don’t know how to be nice to people I like.”

“It’s okay,” Eddie laughs, shifting on the brick wall until his shoulder rubs against it. He looks down at you like he’s seeing you for the very first time — glittering with the hope of finally getting close to you, of finally having something real.

“Don’t laugh!” you argue. “I’m trying really hard here!”

“I know,” he murmurs lowly, leaning in until you can taste the nicotine on his breath. In a honeyed tone, he confesses, “It’s a good thing I like you mean, then, huh?”

Your heart lurches into your throat. He smirks when you freeze, and knocks his shoulder against yours when he heads back into the diner.

The game of cat and mouse continues.

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble

[fantasylandloser]

marriage pact pt.2

summary: the besties are getting used to their new relationship

Warnings: smut, mdni, oral (fem recieving), mentions of dry humping, mentions of implied bi!reader, Stevie's happy trail makes another appearance, public sex?? (not actually penetration), lmk if i missed anything

pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

A/N: thank you to all the people who showed part one so much love, especially everyone who had v unhinged things to say (i love you the most) also i gave us a cool ass, loving mom

part 1

*****

“I’m just saying, we should talk about it eventually.” Steve tells you, unable to conceal the smirk on his face. He stood in the doorway of your bathroom watching you evade questions he threw at you about your past hookups. Essentially he didn’t really care, he was the last person in Hawkins who should have the privilege of caring about who other people hookup with. But he was a little curious, considering your face went up in flames as soon as he brought it up. Also maybe slightly jealous.

You huff at Steve’s persistence, dropping your mascara back into the bag. “Are we going to talk about all the people you’ve hooked up with Steve?” Annoyance laced your tone at his line of questioning, but he knew your annoyance was just poorly concealed embarrassment. 

The two of you were supposed to be getting ready to meet up with Robin, Eddie, Nancy, and Jonathan when he randomly asked you about the past guys you’ve been with. He was already dressed and now he was waiting for you to be, curiously watching your every step. 

“We’ve talked about me for years. Everyone in Hawkins has talked about me.” He laughs, a little self deprecating. “We’ve never talked about you, and we don’t have to.” He’s moving in on you arms, caging you into the counter, shaggy hair sweeping from his forehead. “I’m just curious, not judging you.” Your eyes meet his sincere ones in the mirror, the kicked puppy look he’s been giving you since you were kids working like a charm.

“Billy Hargrove fingered me in our Anatomy class, junior year.” You start, your face red as you shift your eyes, from Steve’s shocked ones. “That was before he..”You trail off not knowing exactly how to word your next thoughts.

“Beat me to a pulp?” Steve offers, with a sardonic grin.

You nod with a sheepish smile. “Sorry.” You really mean it, too. You felt so bad after you saw Steve like that, bruised up by a guy that had been touching you.

“Not judging, remember.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head, and despite the ugly feeling of jealousy sitting in the pit of his stomach he really wanted you to continue.

“I always knew he had a thing for you.” He says, thinking of all the times he’d catch Billy staring at you. He’s pretty sure that’s half the reason he beat his ass. Steve would always have an arm around your shoulder or one of your legs in his lap. 

You go back to distracting yourself as you put your eyeliner on. “And don’t be weird about this later,” You say, which gives him warning to brace himself. “Eddie took my virginity in the back of his van senior year.” You say it so casually that Steve’s sure he didn’t hear you correctly. 

“Eddie?” Steve says, his face wearing his shock. “You mean like Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson?” You slap his arm at that.

“Don’t call him that.” You defend, which Steve rolls his eyes at, knowing Eddie loved the nickname.

“Our friend, Eddie? Who, we happen to be seeing tonight?” Obviously too flabbergasted to remember his no judgment rule, you quickly remind him. 

“I thought this was a judgment free zone.” You murmur, too mortified to even look at him. This brings Steve back to himself.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I’m just surprised. Didn’t see that coming.” Steve’s hands are on his hips and you know he’s about two seconds from pacing a hole through a floor to wrap his head around it. You can’t help but think he’s adorable for stressing himself out about a question he asked you to answer.

“Yeah we hooked up for a while I guess, but then-” You’re cut off by your own thoughts, sheepish at the thought of your next words until you look at Steve’s puzzled expression. “Then Tommy threw that huge party and you got drunk off your ass and told me we were gonna get married and I just-” You shrug, pretending to be oh so busy with your eyelash curler. “Broke it off with him the next day. Didn’t wanna lead him on, when my head was… elsewhere.” Thinking of you. You tell Steve all this without making a morsel or eye contact. It should really scare Steve how good you are at playing casual with your feelings. 

“Oh, honey.” The kiss he plants on your shoulder is sweet, as he secures his arms around you. “I really love you.” Steve whispers, and it’s not the first time he’s said it, but in this context it is. The words are so much heavier after the shift in dynamic between the two of you.

“I love you too.” Again you say it so unbothered, so naturally, that Steve would think you didn’t mean it if he couldn’t feel the way your pulse quickened. 

“So, after Eddie?” He prods. You take a second like you’re contemplating telling him. 

“If I tell you, you can’t tell Robin.” Steve looks confused but agrees regardless. “You can’t tell anyone.” You reiterate. 

“Okayy, based on what you’ve already told me I’m not sure how it could get worse.” Steve says. “But I’m not judging.’ He adds after his little sentence. 

“Last year, Tammy Thompson, once.” It’s all you say before Steve understands and his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. 

“I don’t know you at all.” He states dramatically. 

“In my defense..” you began, “The only reason I didn’t tell you was because like right after I had been talking to Robin and told her that I went to the mall with her and then, she randomly mentioned that she used to have the hugest crush on her. And then she told me that the two of you hooked up before and it was weird. Because I never in a million years thought we would have any overlap.” By the time you’re done with your explanation, Steve is still looking at you in shock.

“You don’t tell me anything.” He lies, unaware of the pout that’s formed on his face.

“I tell you everything important.” You counter. You look like you’re thinking, biting your bottom lip nervously. “I didn’t think it would be a big deal for you.”

Steve is all over you before you can overthink any further, and he’d never tell you but you look like you’re about to launch into tears. “Baby it’s not a big deal… I’m just surprised I didn’t know this about you.” He finally understands some of your hesitancy about opening up about your sex life. You were scared to be judged, by him of all people. 

“That was the shortest list ever, if it was me we would have been standing here for hours.” He jokes, it's another self deprecating jab and it’s one you can’t ignore. 

“Stop doing that. Be nice to yourself.” You scold lightly. 

“It’s true.” You knew Steve was no longer a fan of his own promiscuity. You know that he had some regrets about it, but you couldn’t for the life of you understand why.

“It’s hot.” When the words leave your lips, you find yourself turning around in his arms, tilting your head up to get a better look at him. You meet his eyes, watching the bewildered expression on his face.

“It’s really hot for me, that my boyfriend is more experienced than me. Now.. you can teach me what you know.” You elaborate. Steve’s eyes are watching your lips intently.

“Call me that again.” He requests, his voice gruff. You hold his gaze even though your entire body is on fire from the sudden intensity.

“My boyfriend.” You say softly. The first time you acknowledge him as such. He’s leaning in to kiss you when you duck under his arm, not allowing him to smudge your newly done make up or make you any later than you know you are.

“We’re late.” You remind him, grabbing your shoes. 

“Fucking tease.”

*****

Your night out with Steve and your friends, paled in comparison to waking up to him. He’s holding you tightly against him. No shirt on his chest, per usual. A large hand splayed under your shirt and against your stomach. His heat is almost too much for you and you consider rolling away briefly but that’s the last thing you want. 

Without ever opening your eyes or moving, you flail your legs to kick the blanket off you, only pausing when you hear a throaty chuckle vibrating beneath you. You freeze realizing you’d been caught looking silly.

“You hot?” He asks, ever so attentive. Usually when the two of you slept in bed together, there was a respectful amount of space between you, now your limbs were intertwined and your heart beats synced. 

“Mhm.” You hum, still half sleep. You wouldn’t know it but Steve woke up about thirty minutes before you and he was also feeling like the bed had turned into a sauna overnight, but he’d rather burn to death than wake you up. 

Still groggy from sleep, you whine when Steve removes himself from you to turn on the fan and remove the covers the rest of the way off of you. Much to your relief. 

“I’m gonna go take a shower.” He tells you, letting you know he wasn’t coming back to bed. You were unsure of how he did that. Getting up as soon as he woke up. You were more of a wake up and rot in bed for two more hours kind  of girl.

You hadn’t realized, you’d drifted back off to sleep until Steve’s waking you up. “Wanna get up for me, so we can spend some time together?” He offers.

“We could go play basketball at the gym.” He tries again when you don’t budge. This has you perking up slightly. For a reason unknown to him, every time, even in high school, if he mentioned anything to do with basketball you would be there. At first he thought you wanted to play, especially since you proved yourself to be useful on the court, but when he mentioned it to you, you looked disturbed at the idea. 

You’re rolling out of bed without answering, but he knows that is your answer and you’re just adjusting to the morning again. So he goes on making sure to cook you a good breakfast. 

When you finally emerge from the bathroom, freshly showered you find Steve behind the stove looking very boyfriendish. You can’t help circling your arms around his waist as you inhale his scent.

“Morning’” There’s soft music playing from his phone but other than that the house is quiet. 

“Good Morning. Baby.” You grin into his shoulder, feeling oddly domestic..

After eating breakfast with Steve, you made your way to the gym. You’re stopped a million times because this is Hawkins and everyone knows Steve, the once golden boy basketball star, and you who graduated top of your class with a long list of extracurriculars. But most people still only referred to you when speaking about Steve and that was okay with you.

Playing with Steve is never actually about winning for you. The win is seeing Steve like this. Sweaty. In his zone. So fucking focused. You were competitive everywhere else, but on the basketball court, you were all about Steve. He played less now that you were older, so when he offered you couldn’t help but jump at the chance.

You’re barely paying attention to the game because Steve is everywhere. You’re losing really badly even though he’s taking it easy on you. You don’t care.

“Where’s your mind at, honey?” He asks, dribbling the ball he just stole from you and shooting it. You pretend to be frustrated, pretend like you actually care if you lose, like you’re actually giving your best. Steve knows better, but he doesn’t push it, figuring you were just tired still. 

When a group of guys Steve played basketball with came into the gym, begging ‘king’ steve to join a game with them, Steve almost declined until you made some comment about being tired and going to sit on the bleachers for a break.

You knew the real show was about to start, and that he’d love a chance to show the guys from high school how he’s still got it. Steve’s gearing all the way up when they start picking teams, and you know based on the line up it’s going to be an aggressive game.

You’re dazed while you watch him play for the next hour. He’s concentrating hard, yelling out an instruction to his other teammates, in charge, sweating so hard that he keeps lifting up his shirt to wipe sweat off his forehead and revealing that happy trail. Your composure is crumbling quickly. 

And you don’t realize the way you’re looking at him even though you know you’re thirsting hard. He sees though. About halfway through the game when he’s checking on you during a time out. You give him your water bottle to drink out of even though you hate sharing germs, run your fingers through his sweaty hair, and give him two kisses despite the fact that he knows he tastes like sweat, and that you have an audience. 

After that he realizes how hard you’re watching him and he knows he has to show out for the end of the game. Everytime he glances at you, you look so invested. Like you used to in high school when you suddenly became interested in basketball again after a long hiatus during your pre teen years. Except now there’s a new detail that Steve has noticed. You’re squeezing your thighs together so hard, he thinks you’re about to burst. He can’t help but wonder how long you’ve been that way and if that was the reason you’re so intrigued with basketball, with no interest in playing. 

Steve made sure to win. Made sure he earned every filthy thing he was going to do to you. When he walks up to you, you don’t realize that you’ve been caught. Not when he’s dragging you behind him, not even when he opens the door to the men’s locker room, ushering you inside. It’s when he locks the door with you against it that your brain finally kickstarts into realizing what’s happening. 

“Steve we’re gonna get caught-” You start but your voice is lodged in your throat when his fingers dip into your shorts. You know what he finds when he does, and if you didn’t the smirk on his face would have told you. 

“All this from watching me play, honey.” The condescending lilt to his voice, has your brain turning to mush in the best way. That mixed with the way he’s running his knuckles over your  folds. 

“Steve”  You try again, more firm when you hear voices passing from outside the door, but your voice just turns into a whimper, as you try to cope with the way he’s touching you. 

“Shut up for me, so I can focus.” He shushes, yanking your shorts down. You gasp when he does so, but step out of them nonetheless when he gestures for you to do so. This is his first time touching you like this since you dry humped him for all he was worth in the family video parking lot and you’re curious about where he’s going with this. 

He grabs your panties, balling them up in his hand before coming back up to you. “Open your mouth.” You do without a second thought, letting him stuff the underwear into your mouth.

“Fuck you’re a good girl.” He notes before dropping to his knees. “Prettiest pussy, I’ve ever seen.” And he’s not talking to you really but to your pussy. He throws one of your legs over his shoulder before going in, licking and slurping at you like a starved man.

You’re pretty sure it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. He’s so sloppy about it and you love every second.

When he leans down a bit to fuck your hole open with his tongue, his nose nudges your clit. Your moans and whimpers are concealed by the makeshift gag, but the way your hand flys to Steve’s hair to hold him in place lets him know exactly the effect he’s having on you.

He chuckles when he feels you clenching up on his tongue, already so close and he’s just barely touched you. He presses you deeper into the door when he feels your knees buckling, moaning into your cunt at the feeling of you tugging his hair. 

Steve wishes he didn’t need you to be quiet. He wishes he could hear every single one of your whimpers and moans. Hear you calling him ‘Stevie’ in that whiny little voice, but he also knows he doesn’t want anyone else to hear you. Not when you’re all his.

You tumble over the edge pretty quickly, tears cascading down your face, which is the first thing Steve sees when he stands back up, licking his lips. He’s rubbing your overstimulated clit, when he pulls the damp panties out your mouth, releasing all the built up sounds from you. 

“Aw, honey.” He coos, wiping away the tears with your panties. He’s fucking filthy. He kisses you after that, so tenderly that you almost forget how he’s toying with you.

“Stevie..” There it is. Steve thinks to himself. He kisses you again trying to hush your moans.

“You like watching me play, sweetheart? That turns you on?” He asks, still massaging your clit.

“So much.” You admit. Steve wants to laugh at how gone you are, but he’s affected just as much as you.

“Not very nice, that you didn’t tell me.” He says. 

“M’sorry, Stevie.” You’re getting too loud and Steve has to shush you as he hears voices in the hallway, suddenly remembering where you are.

“It’s okay baby, you gonna cum for me?” As soon as he suggests it, he knows it's coming and his lips are back on yours, silencing your moans.

******

“Dude, why are you staring at me?”  Steve asks you, his face red. You stared at him all the way home from the gym. You stared at him when you got home and it had been an hour later, both of you showered and supposed to watch a movie, and you were still staring. 

“I just think you’re kinda rude.” You say.

“I’m rude?” Steve asks, flabbergasted wondering what he could have possibly done in such a short period of time. His mouth hanging open.

‘“Yes because I have had, I want to say maybe like three- four orgasms with other people, in the span of multiple years and you’re telling me this whole time you knew how to do that twice in the span of not even like ten minutes.” Steve’s once red face was now taken over by a cocky grin. 

“Like dude. How did you do that? I’ve never done that before.” You can’t even bring yourself to care that you’re inflating his huge ego. You’re genuinely confused and you’re thinking it has to be witchcraft.

“It’s easy when you’re that turned on.” He tells you, but you shake your head.

“I’m always that turned on.” You dismiss, making him laugh at how genuine you sound when you say it. 

“Always?” He asked, to which you nod. 

“You walk around here shirtless every morning. Of course I am.” You say simply, and Steve can’t help but be surprised at your sudden frankness.  “And even then I can’t even make myself cum twice. Especially not that fast.”

“So, let me get this right.” Steve starts with a mischievous grin. “You’re saying when you play with yourself, after seeing me shirtless you can’t make yourself cum twice?” He’s teasing you for your slip up and you know it. You can’t help rolling your eyes.

“That’s what I said, Steven.” You say playfully, your eyes narrowed. 

His eyes narrow back at you before he’s tackling you to the couch, tickling you. Laughing at your shrieks, and the sight of you trying to wriggle away from him.

“I’m sorry!” You let out in between gasps for air and laughter. When Steve finally lets up you pinch him for being unfair. 

When you finally catch your breath, you realize Steve is staring at you with a look that can only be described as adoring. 

“Here you go, again.” You say with pretend exasperation, and shaking your head. You’re only teasing him, so that you yourself don’t turn into a pile of mush like always. Steve rolls his eyes at you, realizing just how much he’s missed your banter, these last couple days. You’d gone shy on him, when getting used to the changes in your relationship and he was glad to see that your sass was back in full swing.

“Come give me a kiss.” He insists, gesturing to his lap. 

“Why are you always trying to get me into your lap?’ You ask before settling down on top of him anyway. Nothing sexual about it, as you press a quick kiss to Steve’s lips before trying to move again. 

“I like you here.” He says before pulling you back down on top of him to get another one. “If that’s how you rush touching yourself, no wonder you can’t make yourself cum.” He jabs, even though that’s not what you said. 

You’re about to respond, when you hear someone clear their throat. “Mom!” you yelp in surprise, practically flying off of Steve’s lap.

“Well this is an interesting way to be welcomed home.” Your mom looks almost amused at the display in front of her. The other part is as shocked as you feel, knowing she was home way earlier than she was supposed to be.

“How long were you standing there?” You ask, mortified, You’re seconds away from having the worst meltdown of your life. 

“Long enough to know that you should invest in a vibrator. “ She goads, sending Steve a look. He’s redder than a tomato, knowing that the woman who’s known him since before he was ten heard him say that. 

Your mom is way chiller than she should be, considering the circumstances, but she’s always been that way. Unbothered and entertained.  If that was your dad standing there, you both know this would be an entirely different story. 

‘Oh my goodness. Kill me now.” You mutter dramatically.

“No need for theatrics. I knew last week when you came home with that hickey on your neck. You didn’t even bother to try to cover it up either. Where’s the respect?” She jokes , as you hide your face behind your hands at your carelessness. 

You’re sure that life cannot get much worse than this.

“Good for you guys. But no and I mean it..” she started seriously “no funny business at all, on my couch.” When you groan she doubles downs. “I’m serious that couch was expensive.”

“Okay mom, we got it, thank you.” You say pulling Steve up from the couch and towards your room, too mortified to make eye contact with her.

Once you and Steve make it to your room both of your horrified faces meet… and you’re doubling over in deranged laughter. 

*****

tags: @smilesworldsposts @livsters @ali-r3n @em-guitar-pick @wolflover1005 @lexingtoon @eds1986

p.s. some of these didn't work and idk why

#fantasylandloserfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington #steve x reader #stranger things

[sp0o0kylights]

Indie horror filmmaker Eddie Munson, high off his first big (underground but notable) success, knows the movers and shakers of the film world have their eyes on him. 

They're just waiting to see if he was a one hit wonder before they open all the doors he's been trying to kick down. 

His next upcoming film is his chance, his shot at finally making it. Of being like Rob Zombie and the other creators he looks up to that masterfully blended metal and horror. 

This is his golden ticket. 

The project starts off smooth. His last success has greased the wheels, and things fall into place faster than ever before. 

He's got the best idea for this insane haunted house story, a true "mazes in mazes" type of deal with a queer twist. A real look at how a place can haunt a person just as easily as a ghost can.

 Everything's going swimmingly--until one of his leads drops out the day they're due to start shooting.

No call no show's, and later, Eddie will find out the guy got a last second call back to be a contestant on one of those Love Island bullshit romance gigs (and laugh his ass off when the main love interest takes one look at Billy Hargrove and goes on a five minute rant about ugly mullets on national television) but right now? 

He's fucked. 

He's called in every favor he has for this film. Maxed out every credit card he owns, tapped every contact, got on his hands and knees and begged his rising star journalist best bud to help him market it. (Which Nancy agreed too, for way less cash than she should have.) 

 Eddie can't get anyone on the phone, much less find a replacement actor and the amazing place they rented, that is so dark and wonderfully eerie, is booked out the rest of the year as an AirBnB. 

If he doesn't film now, he loses it all.

Cue the other lead, unknown theater actor Steve Harrington, watching his hair pulling, tire kicking, 'cursing and hopping while holding a toe' mental breakdown and asks why Eddie himself doesn't act in it. 

"Just go full Kevin Smith man. Act and direct." He says, with an easy grin. 

Jeff, Eddie's tried and true videographer, trades glances with Gareth and Grant (Eddie's long used special effects and makeup team, who double for about twelve other jobs because they're also his best friends and they're all in this together, make or break.)

"We don't really have a lot of other options." Gareth hedges. "You're already using me and Grant as background characters." 

Eddie, hands fluttering around his face as though trying to wave away this entire situation, squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a pained hiss. 

"Fine, fine!" He announces with the air of a man running towards a fire. "Fuck it, this is our one shot and so help me I will be shooting it!" 

Steve politely hides a laugh with a cough. 

"Chuckle all you want big boy, I'm going to tragically romance you so hard people will forget both of our characters actually live." Eddie snarls.

Steve, the handsome bastard, just winks.  "Looking forward to it." 

Eddie blushes, but hides it with a surge of frantic energy, conveyed by lots of yelling and moving and getting the ball rolling. 

Two days later, Steve would give the performance of a lifetime down on his knees, covered in a literal pound of fake gore, booty shorts and nothing else as he sobbed about how a lover could become a home. His hands clawed at Eddie's jeans before resting a tear stained face on a slim leg as he bent his body towards Eddie like it hurt to be away from him. 

Eddie would later receive equal praise in his own acting during the scene, with the world and every reporter in it asking how he conveyed an otherworldly panic so beautifully throughout Steve's performance. What was he thinking, to evoke those expressions on his face? 

The way his own pale hand, unmarred by blood and acting as a metaphor for the plot, would come to stroke Steve's cheeks.

Eventually he'd come up with a smooth polished answer that cheekily pleased his audience, but nothing would ever come close to the truth. 

("Eddie I've known you since grade school." Jeff said that night, a scant few hours after they'd wrapped. "You can act man, but not like that." 

Eddie made a wild "shut up" gesture, looking frantically over his shoulder before admitting; "You saw how close his face was to the prince of darkness!? I was seconds away from popping a boner next to his lips, in front of the 4K camera!” 

Eddie bounced into Jeff’s face so he could hiss: “He fucking had his chin on my thigh, Jeff, and I am only a man. A mere mortal!" 

"So we're gonna unpack all of that later." Jeff said finally, when he'd managed to get his mouth working and Eddie back out of his personal space. "But dude, we've talked about you calling your dick the prince of darkness." 

Eddie flipped him off.) 

One year later and critics named Corroded the best horror film of the year, praising the camera work, practical effects, and how there wasn't a soul alive who was surprised to hear Eddie and Steve were dating after their explosive on screen chemistry.

No one ever quite understood the prince of darkness jokes or why Steve mentioning it made Eddie blush, but that was a secret to find out later. 

Today on WIP’s I have no intention of writing, indie horror movie AU!

#at some point this became a warmup for the warmup #and it feels very silly #LOL #steddie #Steve harrington #Eddie munson #horror movie AU #no upside down #eddie would have the STUPIDEST names for his dick #I will die on that hill #that is a man who has put googly eyes on his third leg #and then cried because they wouldn't come off #its why he loves steve bc steve would talk to it like a beloved pet #daddy misssess youuuu #corroded coffin as a unit hates them so much when they do this shit its the bane of their existance

[ashwhowrites]

Hi! I was wondering if you could do a billy hargrove x reader where they’re at a party (i’d like the whole crew to all be friends robin, steve, nancy, billy, eddie) and reader wanders off for a minute. she somehow gets in the middle of a fight and someone hits her. she comes up to billy crying and he goes into super protective mode? idk i thought it sounded kind of cute i love your writing!!

I miss Billy. And thank you so much!!! I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting <3

Bodyguard

Billy and Y/N have been together for almost two years. They met when he moved into town, she was swept away by his charming smile and blue eyes. She was a grade younger, now finally in her senior year alongside Eddie and Robin. Billy graduated with Steve and Nancy, but they all still hung out. And since Y/N was in high school knew the popular crowd, and was King Billy's girlfriend, she got invited to a lot of parties. And the group was always happy to tag along.

Billy, Steve, and Eddie were hanging outside, passing around a cigarette as they leaned against the back of the house. Robin, Nancy, and Y/N were inside, dancing and getting drinks. The boys were chatting among random things, then Robin came rushing out. She stood by the back door and searched the crowd. Once her eyes landed on Billy she screamed for him.

~~~

"JASON! RELAX!" Y/N yelled, Jason was yanking Chrissy around the party, another fight that Y/N didn't know what about. She wanted to protect her friend, Chrissy.

"This doesn't involve you," Jason growled, his grip still on Chrissy but he got in Y/N's face. Robin and Nancy watched nervously, a bad feeling in their gut.

"Y/N, just leave it!" Nancy tried, a crowd forming around the arguing couple.

"She's not going home with you. She said no and that means no." Y/N snapped, she didn't back down, holding her head higher as Jason looked down at her.

"She's my girlfriend, so butt out," Jason said, turning around as he dragged Chrissy with him. Y/N stepped in quickly, grabbing Chrissy's other arm. Y/N yanked her back, Jason lost his grip and his hand flew back smacking Y/N right in the nose. Y/N yelped and covered her nose, feeling warm blood dripping from her nose.

~~~

"BILLY. ITS Y/N!" Billy, Steve, and Eddie all jumped into action, Billy smashed the cigarette under his shoe and raced to Robin.

Steve and Eddie knew if it involved Y/N, Billy wouldn't think rationally.

"WHAT'S WRONG?" Billy yelled, following her into the house. Robin didn't try to explain, just racing to the bathroom.

Billy felt nervous, was she sick?

Billy walked in to see Nancy holding ice to Y/N's nose, the front of her dress had spots of blood. He softly pushed Nancy aside, grabbing the ice as he held it for Y/N. Chrissy was silent in the corner.

"What happened?" He whispered, gently rubbing her cheek as he looked at her nose. It wasn't broken, which he was thankful for.

"Nothing, I'm fine, baby," she said, rubbing his arm. Her eyes were red and her cheeks were soaked. Her lip trembled as she silently cried.

"Baby, you have a bruised nose. Did you slip or something? Nothing to be embarrassed about." He joked, a smile on his face. But the atmosphere told him it wasn't anything that would be funny in a day from now.

"She was helping me and Jason flung his arm and he smacked her in the nose," Chrissy said, drowning in the amount of guilt she felt.

Billy's expression went hard in seconds. Steve and Eddie immediately blocked the door as Billy started to breathe heavily.

"He hit you?" Billy snarled, dropping the ice in the sink as he took in her face.

"It was an accident, Billy! Just relax. I'm okay!" She tried, but all Billy could focus on was the fact that she had blood on her dress because of Jason.

"You're okay? You have a fucking bloody nose! I'm going to kill him!" Billy growled. He turned and glared at Steve and Eddie.

"Move." He demanded, but both boys shook their heads.

"Billy, not a good idea. She's okay and she doesn't want you to get involved with it." Steve explained. But Billy didn't care.

"Move or I move you." Billy tried again.

Steve and Eddie looked at each other, knowing the result would land them in pain or Jason. Both boys moved away from the door, Billy yanking it open as he raced out to the party.

"BILLY!" Y/N screamed, running after him. The gang followed behind, all rushing to see what was going to happen.

By the time they caught up, Billy had Jason pinned against the wall. His blue eyes were dark as he growled at Jason.

"IT WAS AN ACCIDENT! SHE PUT HER NOSE WHERE IT DIDN'T BELONG. MAYBE KEEP YOUR LITTLE SLUT OF THE WEEK ON A TIGHTER LEASH!" Jason yelled, barely realizing his mistake until Billy landed a knee to his stomach, over and over.

Jason screamed in pain as Billy dropped him, his body crumpling to the floor as he held his stomach. Now on his knees, Billy landed a punch right across his face. Blood poured out of Jason's nose as he dropped completely to the ground this time. He wrapped his arms around his face as he tried to surrender.

"Enough" Eddie demanded, stepping in front of Jason as Billy went to land a kick to his stomach.

"DON'T YOU EVER TOUCH HER OR EVEN TALK ABOUT HER AGAIN!" Billy screamed.

"Hey, hey!" Eddie said, snapping his fingers in Billy's face to catch his attention. Billy finally looked at him, breathing heavily as he tried to calm down.

"He got the message. Y/N is fine and needs you now. Okay? Walk away."

Billy listened to Eddie's words and took a deep breath. His body relaxed when he felt Y/N's hand slip into his. She squeezed it gently as she stood next to him. She gave him a look and he understood everything. He nodded and walked with her. He wrapped his arm around her and kissed her nose as they walked to his car.

"My bodyguard." Y/N swooned, giggling as she snuggled into his body, reaching his car.

"Precious things like you need extra protection," Billy said, smiling as he leaned down to peck her lips softly.

The gang races out, Robin laughing as she held empty bottles of beer, along with Nancy.

"GET IN! GO GO!" Steve yelled, Eddie running behind.

A soaked Jason came limping out, his white shirt now drenched as he held his nose. Cursing as the gang raced into the car and sped off.

#billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove stranger things #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove angst x reader #billy hargrove angst to fluff #ashwhowrites #billy hargrove request

[unamused-boss]

Lipstick Stains

Billy Hargrove x Harrington FemReader

Summary: There has been some new gossip floating through Hawkins High. The gossip being that Billy has a lipstick stain that just so happens to match a certain girl's iconic shade.

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

You were a Harrington. You had a certain standing that you had to keep cause of the expectations of your parents. One of those expectations were not making out with Billy Hargrove in his car in the back of the school parking lot during lunch. But your parents were never home so you didn't really give a damn.

"Billy we have to go back into the school at some point." You said releasing your lips from his. As you tried to pull back he pulled you in for another quick kiss.

"Oh come on, we don't have to." He smirked to you.

"Listen Mr. Bad Boy, I know you don't like school but I have a test." You said to him. He gave you a small pout at your response to which you just laughed at him. "You also messed up my lipstick." You said as you flipped the visor down to use the mirror to reapply your dark red lipstick.

"That's not the only thing I can mess up." He joked. You just gave him the look, he knew the look. It didn't need a name.

"Well Hargrove I have to get going." You brought yourself close to kiss his neck then up to the apple of his freckled cheeks. You collected you things to go back into the school before the bell. Before you shut the door you look back at Billy to see the two kiss marks that you left on him. You just smiled at him.

"Love ya, see you later." You said then shut the door to go to the school.

Billy continued with his day like usual. Thinking that nothing would go out of the ordinary. He knew he was hot shit so people were staring at him as perusal but he didn't know what they were staring at. In each class he had stares his way, to which he had to tell some off for looking too long.

"Nice job man." Tommy Hagan laughed as he patted his back. Billy was just confused about what he was talking about but he continued as nothing was wrong. The bell rang through the halls to signal that the school day was over. Billy made his way to the doors top the parking lot to leave when he saw a certain Steve Harrington staring him down from his locker.

"You got a problem Harrington?" He asked.

"Yeah, not with you though." Steve replied slamming his locker shut to go find a certain sister of his. Billy didn't know that, he was just confused and thought nothing of it. He finally was able to make it to his Camaro to wait for Max. Students around him were still looking at him. Some girls looking in distaste, not at him but at the kiss marks on his cheeks. Some guys were just laugh in congrats to him. Billy just wanted to get the hell out and get Max home so he can go see his girlfriend. Billy looked over to see a certain red head making her way over to his car.

"Get in shit-bird, I got places to be." He said as he got in the drivers seat while Max got in the passenger seat. She just stared at him, more than she would usually. Which is not at all. Billy glanced at her a few times.

"What?" He asked annoyed with her staring.

"What's on your face?" She asked. Billy was confused until he thought back to lunch. He grabbed his sun visor to look himself in the mirror to see the two kiss marks on him. Just as he thought, one on his cheek and the other on his neck. He just laughed what he was looking at.

"Well that explains a Lot." He sighed starting his car to drive away.

Later that day Billy was able to make it to the Harrington house hold. Instead of parking down the street, he parked in the driveway. Instead of climbing through the window of his girlfriends bedroom, he simply knocked the front door of her house. Which, unfortunately, the other Harrington answered. He and Steve just stared at one another for a moment.

"Hargrove."

"Harrington."

"What are you doing here?"

"I think you know why exactly I'm here, or you don't."

"I do know why you're here." Steve stated sternly.

"Then tell me, why am I here?" Billy gabbed at him with a smirk playing on his face.

"Can you guys stop having a dick measuring contest for once." Your voice was heard in a very much over it tone. "Get out of here Steve."

"But-" You stopped him from continuing.

"Eh, I don't wanna hear any more then I already have. You're being a Buttface." You sassed at him. "Now I would like to talk to my boyfriend."

Steve just rolled his eyes and sighed. Walking away from his enemy and his sister in the same door way. You turn your head back to Billy with a grin on your face.

"So what are you doing here, handsome."

"Well, I am here to see my girlfriend that I have to have a small chat about." His voice going a slight octave lower. Something that you loved.

"And what do you have to chat about?" You stilled teased at him.

"Well I made out with this gorgeous woman at lunch, and after I thought my day would go by like usual. But I had people staring at me all day. I didn't know why until I looked into the mirror to find that the exact pretty girl I was kissing left some marks on me." He explained to you. "Now I am at said pretty girls house to get a reason why she did that."

"Well I think she just wanted to have a bit of fun with you, if you ask me."

"Well as much as I love that, I think I would love to have some fun with her right now."

"Well you'er gonna have to wait on that, handsome." You said." Big Bro ain't to happy with me, I've been getting an ear full for the past hour."

"I can wait." He reassured. "I will always wait for you, gorgeous." You just smiled at him and dragged him into your house.

"Is he staying long?" Steve's distant voice was heard.

"Shut up Steve." You yelled out to him. "Like I said, ear full all day."

You and Billy just laughed at the situation. But at least you both can enjoy each others company in the end.

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

I hope y'all enjoyed this. Sorry if it is short. I know I haven't been to active, writing wise, lately. I'm trying to get through school right now.

I will try to get more out for Boots and Trumpets, and Practically Magic later.

Thank you for reading.

#billy hargrove #stranger things #billy hargove imagine #fanfiction #steve harrington #billy hargrove x fem reader #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #dustin henderson #eddie munson #eleven hopper #max mayfield #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove fanfiction #stranger things billy #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #demogorgon

[andvys]

I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 8

Warnings: angst, heartbreak, mentions of weight loss and allusions to an ED, sexual harassment (reader being cornered by a guy & mentions of Billy groping reader in the past), grab some tissues this one is sad

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!cheerleader!reader , Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler

Summary: You spend one last night with Steve.

Word count: 10k

A/N: @mysticmunson thank you as always, angel. you always inspire me so much with your amazing ideas, I love u🤍 — also its mostly proofread but if there are any mistakes…. you didn’t see them!

series masterlist

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Steve stares at you with a mixture of hope and curiosity in his eyes. He can’t remember the last time he had seen you on his doorsteps. He knows that you aren’t here for the reasons he hopes for but his heart still holds onto that hope.

You look at him expectedly, your hands are shaking. There’s a snowflake on your eyelash, you wipe it away and blink as you look up at him. 

“Y-Yeah, come inside,” he says as he moves to the side. His gaze softens when your eyes flash with uncertainty, you look behind his shoulder. 

“Can’t you come outside?” 

“Y/n, just come in–”

“Steven, who is it?” You hear his mom say. You hear her footsteps and see her as she walks into the hallway, her eyes widen and a smile appears on her face when her eyes meet yours. 

“Y/n!” She smiles excitedly, “come on in, dear. What are you doing out there in the cold?” 

You really don’t want to step inside his house but you can’t say no to her and before you can even protest, she pulls you inside and wraps her arms around you, hugging you tightly. 

“It’s been so long!” Helen says. She pulls away and places her hands on your shoulders, “look at you – she’s getting more and more beautiful, isn’t she, Steve?” She turns around to face her son with a smile on her face. You look at him with narrowed eyes, he nods.

“Yes she is,” he says.

He is not making any of this easier for you. 

“Come inside, we are just about to eat dinner.”

“Oh no, I don’t mean to intrude, I just wanted to–”

“I won’t accept a no and you know you could never intrude, darling,” she says, shaking her head. “Come on, we got so much catching up to do! Take your coat off.”

She looks at you expectedly, she really won’t accept a no. You can’t help but chuckle, you take your coat off and hand it to Steve who holds his hand out. 

“Thanks,” you mumble as you look into his eyes. 

He smiles.

You look away from him, you fix your hair and smooth down your skirt.

“That’s a beautiful skirt,” Helen gushes, she reaches for your hand and pulls you further into the house.

Steve’s heart flutters when he hears your giggle. He watches you walk into the kitchen with his mom. He can’t help but feel excitement rushing through him at the thought of spending the night with you, he knows that this won’t mean anything and deep down he knows you came to talk about something that won’t leave him with a smile on his face at the end of the night but he can’t help but hold onto the hope that you might want to give him a chance – as silly as the thought is. 

He hears his dad saying your name with an excited tone in his voice, when he walks into the kitchen, he finds him hugging you. 

They are never this excited to see her. Steve looks down, a feeling of self hatred blooms in his chest. 

He ruined everything.

“Are you eating enough, kid? You look like you’ve lost some weight.” 

Steve raises his head to look at you, you raise your brows in surprise as you stare at his dad, a nervous laugh falls from your lips.

“Dad,” Steve warns when he notices your discomfort. 

His dad looks over your shoulder, waving his son off, he looks back down at you and wraps his arm around your shoulder as he leads you into the dining room. 

“Helen is making Lasagna tonight, it’s still your favorite right?”

“Yeah,” you chuckle.

“I’m glad you’re here, who else would I share all the garlic bread with.”

Another laugh falls from your lips and Steve has to close his eyes, he takes a deep breath. All this takes him back to all the Saturday dinners you have spent together. 

Idiot. Idiot. Idiot.

He shakes his head and opens his eyes as he looks at the ceiling. 

“It’s never too late to fix things, Steve.”

He feels a little startled by his mom’s voice. 

“Sometimes it is,” Steve says. “She hates me.”

She sighs and shakes her head at him, “she wouldn’t be here if she hated you–”

“She’s here because you wouldn’t take no for an answer,” Steve mumbles, rolling his eyes. He knows that you came here to talk, not to spend a family dinner with his family. 

“Yeah but she came here for you, to talk, I assume?”

Steve shrugs, he hears your voice in the dining room along with his dad’s laughter. 

“Not for the reasons I’d hope.”

She raises her brows in questions, she tilts her head and leans her hand against the counter. 

“What reasons were you hoping for?”

“A second chance, mom.”

“Well, you won’t get one if you don’t leave that girl of yours first,” she mumbles and reaches for the bowl of salad, pushing it in his hands and giving him a stern look, “you’re behaving like a fool, Steven.”

He closes his eyes again and clenches his jaw. He feels embarrassed. 

“You know, you remind me of Harold. He was breaking hearts left and right when he was younger, then he had this amazing girlfriend and guess what he did?”

“He cheated on her,” Steve mumbles, nodding, “you told me this story a thousand times already.”

“Yeah and I’ll tell it a thousand times more. I don’t want you to end up like my brother, Steven. Look at him now, he is old and miserable and hung up on a woman who has been happily married for the past twenty years.” 

“I’m not gonna end up like uncle Harold,” Steve sighs. 

“You’re on the best way there.” She points her finger at him and gives him a stern look as she leans closer, “you broke that poor girl’s heart – I can see the pain in her eyes and your father is right, she lost weight, she’s not doing well.”

Worry flashes in his eyes and the guilt that has been nagging at him comes rushing back. 

“I don’t want either of you to be miserable but I know that you will be if you don’t pull yourself together. She’s an amazing girl, Steve. Someday, she’s gonna try again and she’s gonna meet an amazing man who will give her everything she wants and you’ll regret letting her go.” 

Steve frowns. He knows that she is right. There will be someone who will give you the things that he never could but the thought of that makes him want to throw up and break down. 

The thought of you falling in love with someone else hurts him. The thought of you getting married to someone else, having kids and living that life without him makes him miserable. 

He can see why his mom is so afraid of him becoming like his uncle – he will if he doesn’t make things right. 

He snaps himself out of his thoughts when his mom squeezes his shoulder, “if you want her back, you gotta fight for this girl and it won’t happen overnight, Steve.” 

She gives him a look of sympathy, one that he doesn’t deserve. It was him who screwed up after all. 

“Yeah,” Steve whispers. He turns around and walks away, stepping into the dining room, he places the salad bowl on the large table and glances at you. You’re in the living room, sitting on the couch next to his dad who is showing you his new vinyl collection. He knows that you don’t want to be here, not like this. You are probably already regretting the decision of coming here. 

He sees the excited look on your face when you reach for the Fleetwood Mac Vinyl. You instantly begin to gush over the band, his dad chuckles at your excitement. 

His parents might not be around a lot but you had always gotten along with them, you were the one who convinced him to stay at home for dinners on the weekends, you were the one who convinced him to spend more time with his dad when he asked him to. Steve was angry at his parents for not being around and he punished them by giving them the cold shoulder when they were at home. You changed that. His relationship with his dad is better than it ever was, thanks to you. 

You have done so many good things for him.

He never did anything for you – he didn’t do any good. 

As he looks at you, he notices that they are right. You did lose some weight, your face looks thinner and the circles beneath your eyes are visible even through the concealer you are wearing. He feels sick, knowing that he was the one who caused – causes you so much distress. 

His dad leads you back into the dining room and Steve straightens up when your eyes lock. 

“Take a seat, darling. I’ll go help Helen in the kitchen.” He says, giving you a smile before he turns around and walks back into the kitchen, leaving you and Steve alone in the dining room. 

You swallow nervously and clear your throat. Fidgeting with the sleeves of your sweater, you look around. 

Steve stares at you, just taking in the sight of you in his house. Steve is convinced that you are the most beautiful girl in the world. 

You are nervous, he can tell by the way you are bouncing your knee and playing with the loose string on your sleeve. 

“Come here,” he says, gesturing to the chair that he pulls back. 

You nod and walk over to him, you sit down and turn your head to look up at him. He sits down beside you. This feels like a deja vu and you don’t know how you feel about it. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper as you break the silence between the two of you. 

“What?” He mumbles, looking at you in confusion. “What are you sorry for?”

“I didn’t want to intrude–”

“You could never,” he says, interrupting you. Out of instinct, he places his hand over yours, causing you to freeze, he notices it right away and pulls his hand back, closing his eyes, he sighs, “I’m sorry. I’m just – I’m happy you’re here even though I know you didn’t come here for this.”

“We can talk later.”

He nods, swallowing nervously. He hopes the time will pass slowly tonight. 

He notices how calm you are despite the nervousness you are showing. He doesn’t know whether it’s a good or bad sign. The last time you had been together, you ended up kicking him out with tears streaming down your face and now you are calm, peaceful and there isn’t an ounce of anger in your eyes left. What does it mean?

A bad feeling settles in the pit of his stomach, something tells him that this night won’t end well.

“Did you have a nice night?” He asks as he watches your face contort in confusion, “with Eddie, I mean.”

“Oh,” you mumble. His question takes you back to the conversation you had with Eddie, the one about him. “Yeah, we went to the diner and then watched a movie at his place.”

Steve nods, keeping his composure. 

“Y-You spent the night with him?” 

You know that you don’t have to answer his question, it’s none of his business but you nod anyway and look into his eyes. 

“Yeah, sometimes he stays over at my place.”

His heart twists at your words. A sullen look takes over his face. He tastes that bitterness on his tongue. You say you’re just friends but he saw more than friendship between you both when you danced together but maybe it was just his jealousy that tried to make him believe that it’s more than that. 

“Oh.”

“How was your night?” You ask as though you care. You don’t want to hear about his night with Nancy. “Did you have fun?” 

Steve can see your clenched jaw – you are jealous. 

“It was okay.” The night was horrible and he hated every second of it. He didn’t want to be with her, he wanted to be with you. 

You stare at each other in silence for a long moment before you break eye contact. 

“I’m gonna see if your parents need help–”

“Don’t,” Steve says as he puts his hand on the back of your chair, holding himself back from touching you this time. “You know my mom won’t let you do anything anyway.”

His parents walk into the room seconds later, glancing between the both of you. By the looks on their faces, you can tell that they have been talking about you two in the kitchen. You don’t know what to think or feel but you can’t help but wonder; do they like her? 

She puts way too much food on your plate, the way she always does – she ignores your protests. 

“Do you want a glass of wine?” John asks you, jokingly of course. He holds the bottle up before he pours some of it into his wife’s glass. 

“John,” she chuckles, rolling her eyes. “They’re too young.”

You and Steve glance at each other with narrowed eyes. You have stolen a few bottles of his mom’s favorite wine and you’ve gotten drunk together.. a lot. 

“We used to be young too.” 

You chuckle at his words and at the sigh that leaves her lips as she sits down across from you, she waves him off. 

You would’ve thought that this would be awkward and well, between you and Steve it absolutely is but his parents make it less awkward. It all still feels so natural and it makes you sad. 

“Did you go to the dance last night?” Helen asks, reaching for the wine glass before taking a bite of her salad. 

You nod, “yeah, it was uh– nice.”

“Who was the lucky guy?” John asks, he glances at Steve with narrowed eyes as he bites into the garlic bread. 

Steve sighs. 

“I uh, I didn’t actually–”

“Eddie Munson,” Steve mumbles as he grips the fork tightly in his hand. 

His mom raises her brows at Steve, her eyes flash with amusement when she sees the very obvious jealousy on his face. 

His dad laughs and for a moment, you feel nervous. The Harringtons never seemed like judgmental people, despite the things people say about them but you know how people talk about Eddie and how cursed his last name is thanks to his father. 

“Wayne Munson’s boy?” He asks you. 

“You know Wayne?” You ask and straighten up in your seat. 

“Yeah! We were friends in high school, we didn’t have much in common but he was nice. We didn’t see much of each other after school but I liked him.”

You smile, feeling a little surprised at the revelation. 

“You were friends with Eddie’s uncle?” Steve mumbles with confusion on his face that could be easily mistaken with judgment. 

His dad leans back, giving him a stern look, “yeah, he was a real friend, son. You’re supposed to know what that is but you don’t put much value on real friendships – or relationships,” he mutters the last bit. 

You almost feel bad for Steve, almost. 

He deserves this. He deserves all of this and worse, he knows it. 

“Is he treating you well?” Helen asks, breaking the awkward silence in the room, “Eddie?” 

A nervous chuckle escapes your lips, you can’t help but blush when you feel all eyes on you. 

“Oh, we are not dating. Eddie and I are just friends,” you say before you finally take a bite of the Lasagna, hoping that you won’t get asked any more questions about this. 

“That’s a shame, I’m sure he is amazing.”

Steve glares at his dad. He feels his blood boiling. 

“Oh, he is,” you smile, “he’s very sweet. He drove Steve home the other day.” 

His parents look at you in surprise and then turn to look at Steve who tenses up a little. 

“When his car broke down.”

Steve turns to look at you and you can’t help but smirk when you see the annoyed look on his face. 

“That’s funny,” Helen laughs, “that’s how you and Wayne became friends, right?” She asks her husband who nods at her words. He begins to tell the story about the summer he and Wayne started hanging out. 

You listen intently while Steve begins to eat his food. You can sense his irritation, it’s been there ever since he brought about Eddie. He relaxes a little when his mom changes the topic and starts talking about her plans for Christmas this year. 

It’s weird for you to sit next to him, to sit at a table with his parents and eat dinner like nothing ever happened. At some point, Steve places his hand on the back of your chair when he is done eating. You don’t think that he realizes that he did, he is too absorbed in a conversation with his dad. 

When Helen gets up, you use the opportunity to escape as well, ignoring her protests, you help her clean up the table. You gather all the plates and ignore the looks he gives you. You walk into the kitchen and place the dirty plates next to the sink, you close your eyes and take a deep breath. 

All you wanted was to have a conversation, to have him lay all the cards on the table, to finally be completely honest with you. You didn’t want this because this is only making things so much harder. 

“Is everything alright?” Helen asks as she walks into the kitchen as well, carrying the dirty dishes over to the sink. 

You force a smile on your face and turn around to face her.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” You lie.

She doesn’t look convinced. She knows you almost as well as your mom does. She tilts her head and smiles at you, sadly. 

“It’s okay to not be okay, y/n.”

She places her hand on your shoulder, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pressured you into this.”

You shake your head, “no, it’s okay! You know I always liked the family dinner’s,” you smile, “and your cooking.”

She smiles warmly but the look in her eyes is one of sadness and sympathy. She knows that you love him, you always showed it and you still do, whether you know it or not. It’s in your eyes, it’s written all over your face. You may be young with a whole life and so many chapters ahead of you but one thing is for certain – there won’t be another love like this, not for you. He was the one for you. 

“How are you, y/n?” She asks. 

She doesn’t want to hear any lies, she wants to hear the truth. 

It’s a genuine question, not just a conversation started or a small check-up. She genuinely wants to know how you really feel. You don’t know why but it makes your heart clench in your chest and the tears that well up in your eyes are inevitable. 

You blink, trying to push them away. You don’t want to cry and break down in your ex boyfriend’s kitchen. 

You look down when you feel your bottom lip trembling. 

“I-I hate this,” you whisper as you continue to blink, hoping that your tears will vanish. “I hate that he did this, I hate that I miss him so much and that I love him even after he broke my heart.”

You feel so pathetic when you break into tears. 

“Oh y/n,” she whispers as she pulls you into a hug. She squeezes you tightly and rubs your back. “You will be okay – both of you.” She says and looks over at Steve who stands in the doorway with a guilty and sad look on his face. 

It hurts to see you like this, it’s something he will never forgive himself, to know that he was the one who did all of this. To know that he was the one who hurt the girl he loves more than anything else in this world. 

When you pull away from the hug and your eyes lock with his, you look a little startled. You quickly wipe your tears away and step back, “I-I’m sorry, I should go.”

Before he or his mom can react, you rush out of the kitchen and into the hallway. You put on your shoes and grab your coat, leaving the house quickly. The air is colder than it was before, the snow is falling peacefully. You sniffle as you wipe your tears away. You knew it was a bad idea to come here. You knew it. 

You hear the door shutting behind you as you walk down the driveway.

“Y/n! Wait!”

You don’t turn around, you continue to walk whilst you put your jacket on. You hear his footsteps coming closer, there is no use trying to run from him. 

“Wait!” He sighs. He reaches for your hand and pulls you back, he is surprised when you don’t push his hand away. He falls quiet when he looks at your face, you have wiped your tears away but the glassiness in your eyes is still present. “Y/n,” he says, softly. 

You hate the sorry look on his face, the soft eyes and the gentle touch of his hand. 

“You wanted to talk.”

“Can we do this tomorrow–”

“No,” he shakes his head, holding your hand tighter than before, “let’s do it now, please.”

“I just wanna go home, Steve.”

“Then I’ll drive you home and we can talk in the car.”

You shake your head. You hate that you feel so weak all of the sudden, that you struggle to push his hand away, that you struggle to look away from him. You don’t know what happened but it’s like every strength has left your body and you can no longer push him away from you with that cold front you put up before.

“I want to walk.”

He nods, “okay, then I’ll walk you home.”

“Steve,” you sigh. 

“Please,” he whispers, “I won’t let you walk home by yourself anyway. So you either get in the car or you let me walk you home.”

Sighing, you tear your eyes away from his and look down, you nod, “okay, let’s walk then.” 

You pull your hand out of his grip and turn around. 

The road is illuminated by the street lights, the snow glitters beneath it, it crunches under your boots as you step on it. You’ve done this way too many times before but usually, you would walk hand in hand, you would steal kisses from him and he would pretend to be annoyed, now there is just distance and awkward silence between you both.

At this point, you don’t even know what you wanted to talk about. 

You wanted answers but what are the questions? 

Why did you fall out of love with me? But wait. He said that he fell out of love with you and the next day he said that he never loved you in the first place and now, two months later, he claims that he lied to you when he said that he never loved you – apparently he still loves you even though he is with her. 

Why did you leave me for her? 

What does she have that I don’t? 

Why did you treat me like shit? 

Why are you so good to her? 

Why did you fall in love with her when you were supposed to love me?

“Why Nancy?” 

Steve furrows his brows and looks at you in confusion. 

“What?”

“It’s just, there have been so many girls that threw themselves at you but you never gave them the chance – at least, I hoped you didn’t.”

“I didn’t, y/n.” 

“Could’ve fooled me,” you mutter under your breath, “you flirted with them and expected me to be okay with it but you would get mad whenever a guy even looked my way.” 

If you would have had this conversation with him three months ago, he would have scoffed by now and either start a fight or kiss you to shut you up but now, he just stays calm and he looks at you with guilt in his eyes. 

She changed him in just a few weeks. 

“I know that it doesn’t mean much anymore but I never wanted any of them, those girls that I flirted with, I couldn’t give a shit about them,” he mumbles, rolling his eyes at his past behavior, “and to be honest, I didn’t do it to keep my reputation or whatever. I– god, that’s gonna sound so bad,” he pauses, he looks up into the sky and takes a deep breath before he looks back down at you, “I did it to see what you would do, I wanted to see if you would get jealous ‘cause sometimes I struggled to believe that you loved me – not that you ever gave me a reason to doubt you, it’s just, some things would just get into my head and I don’t know – you never got jealous, at least, it didn’t seem like you did. You would always be so calm, you rarely ever confronted me about it a-and I guess, I don’t know, I figured that you didn’t love me as much as I love you.”

You choose to ignore his last three words. You don’t know whether to scoff in disbelief or to laugh at his words. He must be joking, you think. But his face is serious and the look in his eyes is filled with nothing but honesty.

“Why would you think that?” 

He shrugs, “‘cause I knew how I felt when a guy looked at you a certain way o-or when someone flirted with you – I felt like shit. I got so fucking jealous and angry and it made me want to rip my hair out.” 

You can’t help but giggle at his words as you look at the seriousness in his face, “your beloved hair?” 

His eyes light up when he hears your laugh, a smile tugs at his lips, “yeah, I’d rip my hair out for you.”

You snort and shake your head as you look back down. He keeps staring at you for a moment before he speaks up again, “but what I’m trying to say is, seeing you with someone else broke my heart–”

“But I wasn’t with anyone else, I was with you and I wanted it to stay that way, Steve.”

“I know, I know,” he mumbles, “I was so insecure and a part of me thought that I was losing you and that hurt and I knew how much it would hurt if I actually lost you, if you left me for someone else – if you broke my heart.”

So he broke yours first.

“Do you remember the party at my place, back in august?”

“Yeah, I remember it.”

Steve clears his throat and you glance at him, a frown takes over his face. 

“After I saw you dance with Eddie last night, I remembered something.”

“What did you remember?” 

“We got into a fight at that party because of Billy. He was flirting with you.” 

Yeah, you remember that very well. You were dancing with your friends when Billy came up behind you, he grabbed your waist and before you could react, he pressed himself up against you. He whispered something in your ear and in that moment, Steve walked back into the room with a drink in his hand. He didn’t bother sticking around to see how you had pushed Billy away or how you slapped his cheek for touching you that way. 

You and Steve had gotten into a huge fight that night – one that left you both in tears. He was the one who slammed the door in your face when he pushed you out of his room after you got sick of arguing with each other. 

He stayed back in his room to calm down while you went downstairs and planned to go home when you bumped into Eddie. You didn’t realize that you had tears streaming down your face until he had asked you if you were okay. He pulled you into the kitchen, away from all the prying eyes. 

Eddie had given you a shoulder to lean on that night. He could have easily ignored you, you weren’t friends, not at that time, at least. But he didn’t, he was there for you. He helped you wipe your tears away, gave you something to drink and managed to cheer you up. 

“After we fought, I went downstairs to look for you, I wanted to apologize but then I saw you with him, with Eddie.”

You furrow your brows, “okay, and?”

“You were laughing with him like nothing ever happened, like we didn’t just get into a fight and I think that was the moment I figured that I wasn’t the one for you – ‘cause you were happy and smiling and I was fucking miserable and I couldn’t stand it so I drank until I passed out in the bathroom. I didn’t even remember that Eddie was the one you talked to when I woke up the next day, I just remembered seeing you with some guy.”

It would be a lie if you said that you aren’t shocked. You didn’t know how insecure he was. You always saw him as arrogant, confident and controlling. Not as insecure and scared. 

“And uh to get back to your question. Nancy, she’s just, I don’t know,” he trails off. 

Your heart begins to beat faster at the mention of her name. It takes you back to the night it all fell apart and to the day when he had confessed to you that he fell in love with her. You remember the pain, you remember all of it. 

“You promised me, you told me that you would love me forever.” 

“Did you really think that I meant that?”

“I didn’t, I-I’m not even sure if I ever loved you, y/n. I wouldn’t have fallen for her if I did love you, right?” 

You can already feel the tears coming, just the memory of it all hurts you. You are scared to hear him tell you why he fell in love with her. Why you weren’t enough for him.

Why is he so speechless? You wonder as you look at him. His brows are furrowed in concentration. 

Are there so many things that he loves about her that he doesn’t know where to start? 

While you prepare for another heartbreak, Steve tries to think of what made him believe that he could ever love someone else the way he loves you. He didn’t fall in love with her. He never fell out of love with you. You were always the one. It’s simple. 

But it’s not simple, because how can he explain any of this to you without sounding like a goddamn liar? 

How can he explain to you that he broke your heart because he was scared that you would break his first? 

How will he tell you that he only ever thought about you?

How can he look into your eyes and tell you that it made him feel sick to kiss her, to sleep with her and tell her that he loves her when all he ever wanted was you?

“Nancy, she just, she wanted me in the same way you did. My jealousy had gotten out of hand at that point and I was convinced that I was losing you so I uh, I convinced myself that I liked her too. That night at the Halloween party, I got drunk, blackout drunk. I thought it would be easier to break up with you that way.” 

His words will hurt you more than he will ever know. Just the thought of him planning to break up with you hurts so bad. While you were lying in bed thinking about him with nothing but love in your heart, he was thinking about leaving you.

And all of this because he was convinced that he was losing you? 

You never gave him a reason to think that. He had all your attention, your devotion, your love, your heart. He had it all. You gave him absolutely everything. You understand the insecurities and the jealousy and a part of you wants to believe his words but the other part can’t. 

He loves her. 

He changed for her not for you. 

And now that he has changed, he must feel guilty for the way he treated you, for the things he said to you, for the way he broke your heart. He wants to make things better, he wants to make it up to you, to take your pain away.

He said that he had to convince himself that he loved her, now he is doing the same with you. 

You are not angry at him, not anymore. 

You are just hurt and heartbroken. 

You love him and you always will. 

Suddenly, you feel numb when you realize that he is still with her. 

If he loves you then why is he still with her? 

It was easy for him to leave you.

“Y/n?” 

You hate this feeling. The numbness. You want it gone.

“Hey, y/n.” Steve says softly as he places his hand on your shoulder, pulling you out of your thoughts. 

You blink and halt in your tracks, you were so wrapped up in your mind, you didn’t even notice that you were already in front of your house.You look at his hand before you look up at him. His hazel eyes are filled with worry. 

“Are you okay?”

No. Of course you are not okay. 

Your attention strays away from him when you hear the loud music from the house down the street. Jimmy Davidson is home for the holidays, his parents are gone this weekend, he already invited you to his ‘pre christmas party’. 

An idea crosses your mind, you will probably come to regret it but right now, you don’t care.

“Hey, do you remember Jimmy, you know that super intimidating looking guy who’s actually really nice?” 

Steve looks confused, his eyebrows are drawn together and he tilts his head at your question. 

“Uh yeah, he was on the football team– why are we talking about him again?”

You hold your hand up and point your finger into the direction of his house, “he’s throwing a party, do you wanna go?”

He looks taken aback and still confused. You want to go to a party with him?

“I need a drink,” you mumble, “or two.” 

Steve doesn’t know if that is a good idea and he doesn’t understand how you went from hating him to wanting a conversation with him to wanting to party with him but it’s not like he would say no to you. He will take any opportunity to spend time with you these days. 

He looks down at you. You are waiting for him to say something. You have that look in your eyes that he always loved so much, the one you gave him when you wanted something.

“Yeah, let’s go.” 

He wishes he could see the smile that you used to give him but instead he gets a nod before you turn around. He follows you, suddenly feeling the giddiness that he hasn’t felt in a long time. He is excited to spend time with you. 

Two nights ago, he got drunk at a bar, thinking that he lost you forever. Now you are walking down the street together, your hand brushes against his and he fights the urge to just grab it. 

While Steve feels hopeful, thinking that this could lead to a second chance. You feel sad because you know that this will be the last time. 

You keep telling yourself that you have let go of him but you haven’t fully let go. You don’t just miss him as your boyfriend, you also miss him as your friend.

The music in Jimmy’s house is loud, you are surprised that the cops haven’t been called yet. The smell of liquor is strong. The hallway is crowded with groups of teenagers, you take a peek into the living room, it’s even more crowded. Jimmy kept his popularity going, even after leaving Hawkins for college. 

You and Steve take your jackets off, he takes yours from your hand and hangs it up on the rack. You pull at your sleeves and step closer to him without realizing it. 

“Yo, y/n!” 

You turn your head to see Jimmy walking towards you and Steve, a red solo cup is in his hand. You can’t help but laugh when you see the ugly Christmas sweater and the Santa hat that he is wearing. He really stuck to the theme. 

His eyes flash with surprise when he sees Steve. 

“Harrington! Long time no see, man! How’s it going?” He asks and greets him with a handshake. 

Steve smiles, “hey man.”

“I didn’t know you were still together,” he says as he points between the two of you. 

“Oh, we aren’t–”

“Jimmy! Let’s go, man!” Some guy yells, waving him over, “I’m losing here!” He throws his hands up as he holds the ping pong in his hand. 

“I’m coming!” Jimmy yells back causing you to cringe at the volume of his voice. He turns back to you, “get yourself some drinks, guys. We’ll catch up later!” He says to Steve before he looks at you and winks, “don’t have too much fun, lovebirds.”

Steve scratches the back of his neck while you roll your eyes. 

You look at each other awkwardly at first but when another guy with a similar Christmas sweater as Jimmy walks past you, you can’t help but laugh as you share a glance. 

You make your way into the kitchen. Steve follows close behind. You both notice the few curious glances that get thrown your way. You don’t recognize many people but there are definitely a few from Hawkins High around. You just hope that Heather and Chrissy aren’t here tonight. 

Steve places his hand on the small of your back when you both walk into the kitchen. Your eyes land on the bottle on the counter, you instantly reach for the tequila bottle but before you can even think about pouring it into one of the small solo cups, Steve grabs your hand, stopping you. 

Furrowing your brows, you look up at him. 

“Are you sure about this?” He asks. 

“Yeah,” you mumble, “we can just, I don’t know, we can just forget everything for tonight.”

Steve is surprised to hear these words coming from your mouth. 

“We can just have fun, just like old times, when we were friends.”

He can hear the shakiness in your voice, he can see the vulnerability in your eyes that you have been hiding all this time. You were pretending to be okay after the breakup, you gave him the cold shoulder and acted like you moved on but you never did, he realized that after he tried to kiss you. 

You never moved on and you are not as strong as you pretend to be. You are breaking a little more, everyday. 

Just one last time. You think to yourself as you look into his eyes. 

He nods, “yeah, okay.” 

He reaches for the bottle in your hand, he grabs the cups and fills them with tequila. You both down the liquid in one go, cringing at the strong taste. Steve wipes his mouth, “god, that’s disgusting,” he mumbles. 

You nod in agreement but reach for the bottle nonetheless, ignoring his disapproving look when you fill the cups again. 

“You should take it slow–”

You shake your head, “no, I wanna get drunk.”

“Jesus,” he mumbles, knowing that you want to get rid of this awkwardness between the two of you by getting alcohol into your system. “Okay.” This isn’t a good idea, he knows it isn’t. This will only complicate things even more, yet he joins you and downs the second one as well. 

You look into his eyes, it’s something you have always avoided since the breakup but now you look at him, you truly look at him and you get lost in his eyes. You feel the ache in your chest, the one that will never fade away.

You will never know how much he regrets it, how guilty he feels when he sees the pain in your eyes, the love that is still there. How could he be so stupid? How could he ever think that you would hurt him?

If he could turn back time, this would have never happened. 

He could’ve pulled you into his arms right now, he would’ve kissed you and told you that he loves you. 

You look down and lick your lips, you place the cup on the counter. 

The house is filled with people, you hear different voices, laughter and loud music. You notice the stares and the curious glances. You feel someone brushing past you. Yet, it’s just you and him, right now. 

“Come on,” he says as he holds his hand out for you, “let’s dance, like old times, right?”

You stare at his hand for a long moment before you decide to take it. 

You don’t know how happy he is to feel your touch. 

He doesn’t know how painful it is to you. 

He leads you out of the kitchen, keeping a tight grip on your hand. He greets a few people from school, waving and smiling at some guys. You are just focused on his touch and the way it’s making you feel. 

The way it makes your heartbeat speed up and the way it makes it hurt so horribly at the same time. 

“Hey Steve, y/n!” 

You both turn around, a guy from the basketball team is waving at you, “wanna play beer pong?” 

Steve looks down at you and you shrug, “sure.” 

It seems as though this night is full of bad ideas. First, you ended up on his doorsteps after telling him to leave you alone, then, you asked him to go to a party with you and now you are about to get plastered with the guy you shouldn’t even look at anymore. 

But if there is anything that will kill this awkward tension between you two then it’s a game of beer pong and the two drunk jocks with the Santa hats. 

The dining room is filled with people, just like the rest of the house. It smells like weed and beer in here – you could use some weed right now. 

“Are you okay?” Steve asks as he leans closer. The smell of his cologne drives you insane. 

He scans your face, he looks into your eyes and eyes the line between your eyebrows, he notes the tension, he wants to take it away so bad. A strand of hair falls in front of your face and before he can stop himself, he reaches out to tuck it behind your ear. You don’t move away, not this time. 

You feel so stupid, so weak and pathetic for savoring the touch of the man who hurt you so badly.

The tension, the bad thoughts and the worries leave your mind after winning the first round of beer pong. 

A few drinks in and all your sadness and the heartbreak is forgotten, temporarily. 

Both of you forget everything.

Tonight, it’s just the two of you. 

You both get drunker and drunker and more comfortable with each other with each round you win.

By the time you actually make it to the dance floor, you are both wasted. Stumbling and bumping into each other. Though you still keep the distance between you two. Your hands brush against each other and he ends up taking the risk and hooking his pinky around yours which you don’t seem to mind. 

Steve feels the urge to do more, to wrap his arms around you and hold you. His heart longs for you, all of him longs for you. He gets so lost in your eyes, in you. He doesn’t notice anything around him, he only sees you. 

You joke around like you used to, you hold onto each other like you used to, you smile and laugh and for the first time in a long time, you are both happy. 

And of course, Billy Hargrove is the one who sees you two together. He smirks when he sees the way Steve looks at you, when he notices his hand sliding down your body, stopping just on the small of your back to pull you closer and to his surprise, you don’t even seem to mind. You must be drunk or on drugs, Billy thinks. There is no way you would let him touch you that way otherwise. 

“Well, well, well.” 

Billy raises his brows and glances down at the redhead by his side.

“Looks like the queen and king are back together.” 

“Oh no, he is still with Nancy. They're sneaking around,” Tommy says as he leans against the wall next to him. 

“Well what do they say about cheaters?” Carol smirks as she looks at the way Steve leans closer to you to whisper something in your ear. 

“Once a cheater, always a cheater,” Tommy chuckles. 

Billy takes a sip of his beer and shakes his head, “I thought she’s smarter than that.”

Carol and Tommy laugh at his words, “what’d you expect? She was always in love with him.”

“Yeah, poor little thing always followed him around like some lost puppy,” Carol mocks, twirling her hair with her finger. “I wish Nancy was here so she could see this,” she smirks as she watches Steve lead you away. 

Steve plops down on the sofa and pulls you down with him. You lean your shoulder against his. Your head is spinning and your mouth feels dry. 

“I haven’t had this much fun in a long time,” Steve says, he looks down at you. A fond expression takes over his face. Your hair is messy and your pupils are blown, you are breathing heavily, a small smile is pulling at your lips when you tilt your head to meet his eyes. 

“Me neither.”

Steve smiles at you. His hand brushes against yours, the feeling of your skin against his makes his heart flutter in his chest. When he goes to wrap his hand around yours, to intertwine his fingers with yours, you seem to snap out of your trance. You break eye contact and cough as you straighten up. 

Something about the way he looked at you made you sober up a little. 

“I-I’m gonna go drink some water,” you mutter and push yourself up, “do you want something?” 

He shakes his head.

He knows better than to follow you, he knows when you need space and right now, you need it, even if just for a moment. He watches you walk away, smiling when you look over your shoulder to glance at him. 

He leans back against the soft cushions and looks around the crowded room. Right now, he feels content. You were an unexpected surprise this evening and he can’t help but bask in the feeling of being with you again. 

Three nights ago, he thought he lost you forever but here you are, back with him. 

Though he can’t shake the feeling that something is off about this night, he chooses to ignore it, not wanting to ruin it sooner than necessary.

A few minutes pass and there is no sight of you, he runs his fingers through his messy hair. He leans his elbows on his knees and looks around. He stares at the doorway, waiting for you to come through but you don’t. 

He gets up and his stomach churns a little. He definitely drank way too much. 

He pushes past a group of drunken boys and steps into the crowded hallway. A couple is making out against the wall, a girl is crying to her friends, a group of jocks are sitting on the stairs, laughing loudly. 

He walks into the kitchen, the sight he is met with makes him freeze on the spot. You are standing with your back pressed against the kitchen island, a guy is towering over you. He is much taller than you, his shoulders are broad, it’s clear that he is working out. 

His first reaction is to tense up and clench his jaw in anger. The sight of him smirking down at you makes his blood boil. 

He sobers up quickly when he notices how tense you are, how your hands grip the counter tightly as you press yourself further against the counter to get away from him. You are uncomfortable and flinch away when he reaches out to touch your face.

All the jealousy fades away and anger takes over instead. He doesn’t hesitate to walk over and push the guy away from you. Your eyes are wide and filled with fear, you look at Steve and he instantly grabs your hand and pushes you behind him. 

“Stay away from my girl.” He spits without even thinking. 

The guy looks startled at first but he quickly relaxes and laughs. He looks Steve up and down before his attention goes back to you. 

“Shit, I didn’t know she had a boyfriend.”

Steve can feel how scared you are, you grip his hand tightly with your shaky one and it only makes his anger worse.

“Even if she didn’t, you had no right to touch her like that, you fucking asshole.”

Your heartbeat picks up, fear rushes through you. You always hated when he got into fights. 

The guy still looks at you, he eyes you up and down and it makes you shudder. It’s not the first time he’d done it. 

“Steve.” 

Steve is glaring at the guy in front of him, the urge to throw a punch is strong – a few months ago, he would’ve done it but protecting you and making sure that you feel comfortable is more important to him now. 

“Sorry man, won’t happen again” he says but there is clearly no meaning behind his words, he chuckles and gives you both a mocking smile before he turns around to leave.

Steve takes a step forward to follow him but you pull him back, “please don’t.” You hold his hand even tighter and step in front of him.You are sober now and so is he. The night is over, almost. His hazel eyes are darker than usual, he looks mad. “Can we just go, please? I wanna go home.”

Your words and the panicked look on your face take him back to the night at the Halloween party – the way you begged for him to go home with you not knowing that moments later, he would break your heart. 

You wear that same look on your face you did that night. 

His eyes soften and his shoulders slump. He is not ready for this night to end but he nods. “Yeah, let’s go.”

He keeps on holding your hand and you don’t fight him. Your hand is still shaky. You are nervous and scared. 

He only lets your hand go to help you put on your coat. You open the door and step out with your hands tucked in your pockets. His face falls a little but he doesn’t say anything. He follows you out and puts his jacket on once he’s outside. He shuts the door and just like that, it’s all back to the way it was before. 

But he doesn’t want it. He doesn’t want things to go back to the way they were before. He wants to keep you but he feels you slipping through his fingers just like you felt him slipping through your fingers, two months ago. 

The snow is falling quietly and as you get further away from the party, you can hear the music less and less, only the silence of the night and your footsteps are heard. 

“Are you okay?” 

“What?”

“Are you okay after what happened in there?” He asks, “h-he didn’t do worse did he?”

“Oh,” you whisper and shake your head, “no – I mean, yes I’m okay and no, he didn’t do worse. I’m kinda used to it, it’s not the first time he did this.” 

“Wait what?” He asks as the anger comes rushing back in. 

You shrug, a sour expression appears on your face, “I mean, I haven’t seen him since Heather’s party back in september–”

“Back in– what? Y/n, that’s when we were still together! Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“I didn’t think you’d care,” you mumble, “you were always focused on those girls and picking fights about stuff that wasn’t real so..”

He feels a flash of irritation and anger but also guilt and sadness. He made you think that he didn’t care about your safety and your wellbeing. 

“Of course, I’d care.”

He hates the shift of energy between you two. He wants to go back to the party, he wants to live inside that bubble again, the one where you still like him. 

“I’m so sorry, y/n.” He whispers knowing that you might not want to hear his apology. “I failed you, I failed us.” He thinks about his mother’s words, how she told him to fight for you and he wants to so bad but he doesn’t know how. 

You stop in front of your house, the moment you have been dreading all night is finally here. 

“It’s okay, Steve,” you whisper, “I’m not angry at you anymore.”

You look at the way his expression changes. 

“You’re not?”

By the tone of his voice, you know that he thinks that this must be a good sign. 

You shake your head. The bile thickens in your throat and you already feel sick.

“No, I’m not.”

You are calm, your voice is soft and quiet and the look in your eyes makes him nervous. He stays silent for a moment. You stand beneath the night sky, the snow is falling and it reminds him of the night you have kissed for the first time, right here. 

“I-I understand it now.”

He doesn’t know why but he can feel the fear rushing through him, that pit growing in his stomach. 

“What do you understand?”

“Everything,” you whisper, “I wanted the truth and the other day you said that you weren't honest with me back then but you were. You really did leave me because you fell in love with her just like you had told me back then.”

He frowns at your words, he steps closer to you and he shakes his head. 

Your eyes well up with tears, your bottom lip begins to quiver. 

“And I-I think that you really love her because you wouldn’t have left me if you didn’t – no matter how scared you are, you don’t leave the person that you love for someone else, you don’t hurt the person you love. You would rather have your heart broken than break their heart,” you say as tears stream down your cheeks, “it was so easy for you to leave me but you can’t leave her, you are still with her because you can’t and you don't want to break her heart so that must mean something."

He shakes his head, “no,” he whispers.

“It’s okay, Steve,” you whisper, brokenly. You look down and the tears slip from your face and down into the snow, “you changed a-and I can tell that you are trying to do better and that you want to make it up to me b-but I don’t want it, I don’t want you to think that you owe me anything. I-I just want you to know that it’s okay. You don’t have to feel bad or guilty.”

He shakes his head again but he can’t form any words. His heart is racing in his chest, the fear is holding him tightly. His vision blurs, he can’t stand to see you cry. 

“I love you, Steve and I think that I always will but we have to let each other go.”

His eyes widen with panic and he finally snaps out of it, he cups your cheeks and pulls you closer, “I love you too, y/n! I love you. I will leave her, I will!”

You shake your head, you raise your hands and grab his wrists as you look into his eyes. 

You are both crying and it hurts so bad. It feels like your heart is being ripped apart.

“She is the one for you. You should be with her. I want you to be happy, even if it’s not with me.”

Steve wants to say that you make him happy, that you are the one for him, that you are the one he loves but his words are strangled in his throat. Tears roll down his cheeks and his chest aches. He can see the pain in your eyes and the way you are suffering because of him.

He shakes his head, he is shaking, he is on the verge of breaking down, of falling to his knees and begging for a second chance. He leans his forehead against yours. He whispers your name so brokenly it makes you cry even harder. 

“It’s okay, Steve,” you whisper and cup his cheeks, “I promise, it’s okay.”

He feels the warmth of your touch and the sound of your voice that makes his heart ache. He doesn’t want this to end, he doesn’t want to let you go, he doesn’t want to lose you. 

“You can let me go, it’s okay. You don’t have to feel bad anymore.” 

Steve feels like his chest is being ripped open, like his heart is getting torn out of his body. 

You wrap your arms around him and lay your head on his chest, wanting to feel the warmth of his body, one last time. He doesn’t hesitate to pull you even tighter against him. He holds onto you for dear life, he buries his face in your neck, he breathes in your sweet scent. 

Your broken heart is breaking more and more. 

You close your eyes and you let yourself feel him, one last time. 

You wish you wouldn’t have to do this. 

You wish you could live in a world where he loves you, where you wouldn’t have to say goodbye. 

You thought that it couldn’t get any worse after he dumped you and after he tried to kiss you but this is so much worse. 

This is goodbye.

You stand beneath the falling snow just this time, he won’t pull you in for a first kiss, he won’t make you smile, he won’t pull you back for one more kiss before you walk into your house but he pulls you in for another hug when you try to walk away from him and this time, he holds you even tighter. 

He wants to fight for you but how can he when you don’t want him to?

It hurts to hear him cry and it hurts to feel him hold you so tightly and it will hurt even more when you will see him with her again. 

As much as it hurts, as much as you don’t want it, as wrong as it feels – you step away from him and you look at him, one last time. You can’t stand the tears that run down his cheeks. His large sad eyes will haunt you for the rest of your life. 

You step away from him and it makes him cry even harder. 

You have to go. 

You need to go. 

“Goodbye, Steve.”

He looks crestfallen and broken and it takes everything in you to turn away from him. You clutch your chest and walk away. You can hear his sniffles and before your heart can convince you to turn back around, you unlock the door and step inside. You shut it and press your back against the door. Finally, you let the sob break free as you fall to the ground. You bury your face in your hands and you cry, once again. 

Now it’s truly over. 

It’s all over and you don't even know that you are the one who is still holding his heart.

That you will always be the one.

next chapter

-

tagging friends & mutuals

@mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @screammunson @hellfire--cult @taintedcigs @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint @take-everything-you-can @sherrylyn628 @somethingvicked @nemesis729

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fic #stranger things angst

[loveinhawkins]

The Championship Game of 1985 is only a quarter of the way done, and Eddie is already certain that it’s not going to be a Hawkins victory.

It kinda blows, honestly. It’s boring, like correctly guessing the ending of a movie five minutes in.

And yeah, sue him, maybe high school basketball is a legitimate source of entertainment—he can admit that in the safety of his own head, at least.

Take, for example, the first game of the ‘83 tournament, when a timeout was called with only seconds remaining: the Tigers’ last hope of winning was to miraculously sink a shot with the fraction of time they had left. The tension in the air was palpable as the team formed a huddle—Eddie couldn’t hear anything apart from students chanting, but he stood on his tiptoes and found a gap in the crowd, just in time to read Steve Harrington’s lips: “I’ll make it.”

And he had—with a goddamn stunning full-court jump shot, too, the ball falling through the net just before the buzzer sounded.

Like, come on. Eddie would only admit it under pain of death, but that definitely rivals the intensity of any worthy campaign.

But he can see none of that excitement now. The Tigers have had few opportunities to even get the ball, and whenever they do, Billy Hargrove seems to have taken it upon himself to hog the damn thing, like it’s a symbol of his masculinity.

Of course, he loses the ball—again—and his nostrils flare with anger.

Maybe that’s why Eddie notices it. He’s checked out of paying attention to the game itself, instead focusing on the jaded expressions of Hargrove’s teammates.

As the ball makes its way down center court, Eddie’s eyes are instead drawn to Steve Harrington. He looks pissed, wiping sweat off his forehead and shouting what looks like some pretty choice words at Hargrove’s back.

Hargrove doesn’t seem to acknowledge it, but for just a moment he goes completely still, and all Eddie can think is danger.

It’s covert, the way it’s all done. Hargrove’s move is quick and calculated; he steps far enough away afterwards that it looks like the whole thing is the fault of a rival player.

But Eddie sees the subtle shove. Sees Steve lose his footing.

He goes down hard.

Winces ripple through the audience. Eddie hears Robin Buckley from band suck air through her teeth, then ramble, “Shit, do you think it’s really bad? Beth Wildfire, on my soccer team, her bone, like, came out of her whole knee, you could see it, must’ve been six inches—”

It doesn’t look like anything as gory as that has happened; Steve is already up, and from the redness of his face, it initially seems as if the only thing that’s been hurt is his pride.

But as Eddie sidles to the end of the front row, within earshot of the bench, he sees that Steve can’t put his weight on one ankle, sees the telling way he grits his teeth while speaking.

“I can keep going,” he says, even as Jason Carver’s getting pulled up to replace him.

The coach barely spares Steve a glance, clapping Carver on the shoulder as he jogs onto the court.

“Get someone to take you over to the nurse.”

Steve’s spine goes rigid. “But I can—”

“Look, I don’t have time for this.” The coach finally looks at Steve directly, pointing a stern finger at his chest. “You’re benched, Harrington.”

Steve visibly deflates. He opens his mouth, but no words come out, and then he glances to the side, as if suddenly aware that he’s drawing attention to himself.

This time, when his teeth clench, Eddie thinks that it’s more from embarrassment than pain.

“Whatever,” Steve mutters, and he limps out of the hall—close enough that he clips Eddie by the shoulder as he goes.

Eddie doesn’t know that he’s made a decision until he’s already moving, stepping to the side.

He turns and heads for the exit.

There’s a jeering call from the bench: Mark Lewinsky.

“Aw, what are you gonna do, Munson? Nurse him back to health?”

Obscene moaning noises, punctuated with laughter.

Eddie rolls his eyes.

He finds Steve in the corridor, bracing himself with a hand against the wall. There’s a couple of pictures on the floor, class photos taken for the yearbook that had been pinned up; Steve must have inadvertently torn them down as he grappled for balance.

“Go away, Munson,” he says without looking. “Go back to the game.”

“I’ve kinda lost interest,” Eddie says lightly. He manages to watch Steve take one painful step before he simply can’t do it anymore—stepping forward, he says, “Christ, Harrington, here.”

Steve jolts away from his hand. “Fuck off, I don’t need—”

“Well, fuck you too, then,” Eddie snaps. Something’s burning in his chest, a sudden and fierce hurt. “Jesus Christ. You know what I am isn’t fucking catching, right?”

He shocks himself by saying it.

In the silence that follows all he can think is that, for once, his dad was right: he never did learn how to shut his damn mouth.

Steve’s staring at him, pressing his back against the wall like it’s the one thing keeping him upright.

“That’s—that’s not why—” He breaks off, looks completely lost.

Somewhere within Eddie’s own mortification, he takes pity on him.

He sniffs, tries to act nonchalant. “Don’t hurt yourself, man.”

“No, I—I didn’t mean…” Steve sighs. “I’m sorry. That’s not—I just meant—” He pushes off from the wall again, wobbles until his hand finds purchase. “Just meant I can do it myself.”

Eddie feels his heart rate slow. He tilts his head. Re-examines Steve’s posture: the set to his jaw, the pained determination.

Years ago, Eddie broke his wrist at the fair, thanks to an awkward crash while on the bumper cars. It was the first summer that staying at Wayne’s had become a permanent thing, and Eddie had hidden his wrist beneath the folds of his too-large leather jacket, but Wayne met him off the ride and immediately noticed (“Chrissake, Ed. I’m not mad, kid. Just… lemme help you?”).

Eddie tried to stay silent as he got wrapped into a splint, because anything else felt like admitting to something.

Felt shameful.

“Yeah, you can,” Eddie says, shrugging. He pauses. Takes a chance. “Doesn’t mean you have to, though.”

He moves forward again—slower this time. Offers his hand.

Steve takes it.

“For the record,” he says, grunting as he shifts his weight, “I could’ve kept playing. Like, I’ve had worse.”

Yeah, Eddie thinks, you sure have.

Steve clearly hasn’t sensed that Eddie’s thoughts have gone to how messed up his face was last winter, because he keeps talking.

“Anyway. My own damn fault.” A rueful grin. “Didn’t plant my feet.”

“Don’t,” Eddie says. “You don’t have to… I saw. I saw Hargrove, man.”

Steve scoffs quietly. “Yeah, of course you did.”

“Shit, Harrington, way to make me sound like a stalker.”

“No, it’s just—” Steve shakes his head. “Just typical, that’s all. Remember when the fire alarm went off, last spring? You were the only one who noticed Debbie Lyons was missing.”

“Uh, so?”

Steve smiles. “So… you notice things.”

Eddie doesn’t know what to say.

But he gives it a try as they round another corner.

“What the fuck is Hargrove’s problem with you, dude?”

Steve chuckles wryly. “I’m really annoying.”

“Yeah, fair enough,” Eddie says, grinning when Steve manages to elbow him in the ribs. “But not, like, ‘intentionally injure’ levels of annoying. He threw the game, too.”

“Huh?”

Eddie fixes Steve with a pointed look. “Took out one of our best players.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but still looks undeniably pleased. “Shuddup.” He sobers in the space of taking another step and says, “With Hargrove, it’s… there’s bigger things than basketball, y’know?”

Eddie hears the just drop it underneath what’s spoken. He nods.

They’re almost at the nurse’s office when Steve sighs. “S’not exactly how I pictured it.”

“Hmm?”

“My last game.” Steve winces slightly as they inch closer to the door; Eddie tries to take more of his weight. “Had it in my head that I’d win, go out on a high.”

Eddie’s staring down the prospect of repeating senior year again—he knows all about having ideas in your head that don’t quite pan out.

“Life isn’t like a movie, Harrington,” he says.

It comes out perhaps more fond than he intended.

For some reason, Steve starts laughing like he’s heard something downright hilarious. “Yeah, gonna have to agree to disagree on that one, Munson.”

In the nurse’s office, they find out Steve’s probably got a bad sprain rather than a fracture (“See? I totally could’ve kept playing,” Steve insists), but that he should get it checked out at the hospital, just in case.

Ice pack in one hand, Steve makes a call on the office phone, with what sounds like a morbidly curious teen on the other end: “No, dude, there’s no blood—can you be normal for, like, two seconds and put your mom on? Thank you.”

As Steve hangs up, Eddie is very aware that the right time to leave was probably five minutes ago.

He stays put.

“This was supposed to be my last game, too,” he says.

“Was?”

Eddie clicks his tongue. “Well. S’not confirmed yet, haven’t had my last test results back. But uh, it’s kinda like the game.” He nods in the direction that they came, towards the basketball court. “I already know which way it’s gonna go.”

There’s no judgement in Steve’s eyes. “Sorry. Must’ve been boring to watch.”

Eddie smiles. “Nah, you’re good.”

He doesn’t say that, in his eyes, Steve’s single-handedly given the school almost all of its memorable basketball moments. That his secret favourite one isn’t even a Tigers victory: there was a game when Steve was poised to take the winning shot, and a kid from Connersville fainted.

In the few seconds of confusion, Steve could’ve still taken the shot. He could’ve won.

But as soon as he realised what was going on, he refused to.

To Eddie, that says more about him than any triumph ever could.

The phone rings again; the nurse is letting a Mrs Henderson in at the front of the school to pick up Steve.

“Guess that’s my cue,” Eddie says, because there’s only so many people allowed in the office at one time.

“See you, Munson. Um, thanks, by the way. Hope next year’s championship is, uh, better.”

There’s something in the way he says it, like even while still in the building, he’s drifting away, high school in his rear view mirror.

Oh, Eddie thinks wistfully, you’re already halfway outta here, aren’t you?

Goddamnit. I might actually miss you, Steve Harrington. You and your stupid hair.

“Hmm, can’t see myself going to watch next year.”

“Oh, yeah? How come?”

Eddie lingers in the doorway. Maybe it’s the fact that in a few weeks they’re never gonna see each other again. Maybe that helps him say it. Makes him a little braver.

He’s never learned to shut his damn mouth.

“My favourite player’s leaving,” he says.

And sure, he leaves barely a second later; he’s not that brave.

But he stays just long enough to catch Steve’s smile: startled, pleased, and perhaps just a little shy—like he’s made the winning shot after all.

#i just love the thought that Eddie used to secretly enjoy basketball ‘for some reason’ ❤️ #pre steddie #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #implied homophobia

[eiightysixbaby]

personal jesus

word count: 8.6k

pairing: stripper!eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: your friends take you out to a strip club for your birthday, and you really hit it off with one particular stripper….

cw: 18+ ONLY - MINORS DNI. mentions of alcohol consumption, billy is in this fic (I promise he’s not in it for very long it just makes perfect sense for him to be a stripper OKAY 😭) lap dances, depictions of sensual dancing/strip routines, oral (m & f receiving), very brief mention of spanking, spit kink, unprotected piv, creampie

author’s note: well. I’ve been working on this for a while now and I’m extremely happy that it’s finally ready to be shared! I highly recommend listening to personal jesus by depeche mode while you read this, considering the entire idea for this came to me while listening to that song! I hope you all enjoy, I put a lot of time into this and I hope it shows.

It’s your birthday. A day to celebrate you turning another year older. Another year closer to death, and another year painfully single and alone.

Okay, so you were being dramatic. Turning 25 doesn’t exactly make you geriatric, but seeing the people close to you hit milestones in their relationships had you feeling a little insecure on this particular birthday. Nancy was engaged, Robin and Vickie just celebrated their 3 year anniversary of dating, Chrissy and Steve had finally made things official a month ago and were sickeningly cute together. It just had you longing for a connection.

You’d had horrible luck with guys lately, and it was weighing on you. You wanted someone special to spend your day with, someone to hold you at night and stick by you forever. Or, at this point, you were even okay with just having a little fun. Any sort of male attention was fine with you, wanting to end the drought you’d been experiencing.

So, it was only natural that the girls decided to take you to a strip club this evening. The car pulls up to the door of the seedy looking building, everything very discreet from the outside. You’re wearing a shimmery silver dress with very thin straps, the fabric stopping above your mid thigh. Sheer black tights with tiny sequins adorn your legs, accompanied by silver heels with straps that you wrap around your lower legs and tie. You step out of your Uber and into the parking lot, heels clicking on the pavement. Here goes nothing.

You pull the door open, being greeted by a rush of blasting air conditioning, and the strong smell of alcohol and cologne. You see all of your friends at a table close to the stage at the center of the floor, and they immediately turn and wave at you. You prance over to them eagerly, receiving hugs from all of them along with shrill ‘Happy Birthday!’s. Robin immediately pulls out a sparkly sash that reads ‘Birthday Girl’ and throws it over your head, letting it rest diagonally across your body. Her and Vickie had actually come up with this idea for tonight, knowing it would be fun for you to let loose a little. You all start to catch up with one another, diving into the latest gossip and life updates.

Conversation lulls briefly, Chrissy taking this as her opportunity to pull out a tray of homemade cupcakes from their hiding spot under her chair, Nancy sticking candles in each one.

“Guys, do we really have to sing?” you groan, smiling despite your reluctance.

“Yes! We have to sing you happy birthday!” Chrissy insists, her delicate hands grabbing your forearms gently and squeezing. “You’re 25! This is exciting!!”

Nancy’s hands hold a small lighter, fingers cupping around each candle as she lights them individually. The diamond on her ring finger glistens in the lights of the club, catching your eye. You snap yourself out of the self-deprecating thoughts before they can even start, remembering where you are and how tonight is about you. Once every candle is lit, the girls gather close around the table, singing happy birthday to you rather loudly and theatrically. You’re a flustered mess as you giggle at them, blowing out your candles swiftly after they finish. They all clap and cheer, Vickie passing cupcakes around on small plates to everyone. You order a drink, your personal favorite, deciding you need to catch up with your friends who already have their beverages.

The lights in the club dim as you take a bite into your cupcake, strawberry icing greeting your tongue. A spotlight shines on the curtain at the back of the stage, and several whoops and hollers erupt from club patrons, including you and your friends. Your drink is placed in front of you by a server, and you take a sip, letting the alcohol sear your mouth. An electric buzz runs through you as the first sip travels down your throat, and the house music cuts. A new song begins and your heart starts racing. As excited as you were, you’d never been to a strip club before, and you felt your cheeks grow hot in anticipation.

The song that plays is ‘Pony’ by Ginuwine, you recognize it instantly. As cliche of a choice as it might be, you can’t pretend like it isn’t the perfect song for something like this.

The curtains flutter and a male figure appears, your head whipping in his direction in an instant. You can’t deny, he’s gorgeous. Big blue eyes, curly caramel hair styled into a mullet, but it totally works on him. His teeth are perfect, and his body, oh his body. He’s wearing leather pants and a white button up shirt. Most of the buttons are undone, exposing his muscular chest. The sleeves of the shirt are rolled up to his elbows, and you can tell his biceps are begging to break out of the fabric. He has a black bowtie snug around his neck, and for some reason it makes him all the more attractive. The crowd cheers as he parades around the stage, holding his arms out in greeting as he walks the perimeter. He makes a show of undoing the last few buttons on his shirt, fingers slowly popping them out one by one. You and your friends cheer excitedly, all of you in fits of eager giggles.

“This one is Billy,” Robin leans in and whispers to you. “I was informed there’d be three performers tonight, and based on the stars in your eyes we’re off to a great start,” she teases you, and you swat her away with a laugh, eyes still trained on the stripper, who you now know to be named Billy.

He trails his hand down his bare chest slowly, grinding his hips into his hand when it hovers over his crotch. You’re practically swooning in your seat and based on the wolf whistles erupting from women around you, you’re not the only one. He takes his shirt off fully, throwing it into the crowd haphazardly. He parades around a little bit more, showing off that spectacular body, before he stills and the lights change color. The song starts to fade out, fading into a different one.

‘Closer’ by Nine Inch Nails begins to play through the speakers, and you notice movement behind the black curtain once more. Another man steps out, a striking contrast to Billy. He’s lankier, very thin, and his energy is far more submissive. It’s attractive all the same, and your eyes turn their focus to him. He has a head of shaggy brown hair and bangs that fall in his light brown eyes. His arms and chest aren’t as toned as Billy’s, but it works for him. He’s also wearing the black leather pants and white button up that Billy came out in, finished off with the same black bowtie. He commands the room better than you’d have expected him to, kneeling on the floor of the stage, leaning back on one hand as he rolls his hips upwards. He moves fluidly, and the way his hand glides down to grab his dick beneath his pants makes you sweat.

“Who- who’s that one?” you ask the table, leaning into their personal space a bit too far - but you’ll blame the alcohol.

“Jonathan,” Vickie smiles, and you’re impressed that they seemingly did their research before coming here tonight.

Jonathan and Billy both walk to the end of the stage, right in front of your table, and they both catch the sash you’re wearing. They wink at you, somehow in unison although it couldn’t have been planned, merely a glorious coincidence, and you give a flirtatious little wave in their direction. Jonathan shrugs his shirt off of his shoulders, throwing it in the opposite direction of the crowd as Billy had thrown his. It’s funny, but until now you didn’t even take note of the shiny metal poles fixed to the stage. Each man positions himself at one, and your eyes are transfixed on them. You can’t wrap your head around the way the two of them spin on the poles, how strong they must be to support their bodies like that. Billy has toned arms and a defined chest, so he fits the type, but Jonathan… you wouldn’t have expected this sort of strength from him. You’re absolutely entranced watching them move, and you don’t know how much time has passed before the music starts to fade again and the lights dim.

Various whoops and hollers erupt once more, wolf-whistles and claps of hands, and you can only assume whoever’s about to come out next is the crowd favorite. You chew on your lip in anticipation, watching as Billy and Jonathan simply walk back towards the curtain, standing in front of it unmoving. The previous song has completely faded out, the room dead silent for the first time since you got here. It only lasts a moment, though, before a new song announces itself over the speakers, without warning.

Reach out and touch faith.

‘Personal Jesus’ by Depeche Mode, it’s not a hard one to clock after that opening line. The curtains open in the dark, a spotlight coming on to illuminate the new figure. Your jaw drops when you see him, luckily catching yourself before your drink falls from your hand. You don’t need any more explanation as to why he’s the fan favorite stripper. He’s gorgeous - long brown curls cascading over his shoulders, a sheet of wavy bangs falling just above his eyes. He has a silver lip ring, and a piece of black jewelry in his left eyebrow. He glides his tongue along his top row of teeth in a smug open-mouthed chuckle, knowing the effect he has on the room. He wears the same leather pants, but he has a black button-up shirt on in place of the white ones the other two men were wearing. The way he moves in perfect time with this song makes you believe he must have lots of practice - this is his song and he’s making that clear. He walks easily to the end of the stage, stopping right in front of your table. He unbuttons his shirt in the most sensual fashion you think you’ve ever seen, nimble fingers drawing out every movement, making it take longer than it truly needs to. You can’t help but giggle when Billy and Jonathan come to his sides, pulling the garment off of him. The shirt gets tossed directly at you, the glowing birthday girl, and you gasp in surprise.

“And this one,” Nancy leans in close to your ear, “-is Eddie,” she winks at you, your hands clutching the shirt as you stare up at the man on the stage.

He’s even more glorious with his shirt off, his body littered with tattoos that you think you might want to lick. He has a tie around his neck, not a bowtie but a standard tie, and he tugs on it with force, dropping himself to his knees as if yanked by a leash. His eyes meet yours, unwavering as he watches you. Deep pools of brown that you feel like you could drown in. He lowers his torso to the ground, reaching a hand out and closing his fingers maybe two feet from your face, as if grabbing something.

Reach out and touch faith.

He’s grinding against the floor now, Billy and Jonathan entertaining different groups in the crowd from different sides of the stage. Eddie leans back on his heels, rolling his hips up into the air, one hand tugging on that damn tie and the other gliding slowly down his body. He grips his crotch, the shiny silver rings that adorn his fingers glistening from the bright lights above. You think you see Chrissy literally swoon beside you, and even Nancy’s biting her lip, cheeks flushed pink. Robin and Vickie are slack-jawed - impressed with the way these three guys know how to command the attention of a room. Your heart pounds in your chest with every rumble of the bass over the blaring speakers, your brain melting into a euphoric feeling.

Just as you think you’re able to catch your breath, Eddie jumps down from the stage. Oh god. He approaches you, standing with his legs apart, leaving room for your legs to rest between his. He bends down to your ear, one hand gripping the back of your chair.

“Think the birthday girl deserves a special show, hm?” he rasps into your ear, and you feel your skin grow hot.

His hips roll in front of your face, you’re eye-level with his crotch. Your skin feels white-hot, you know all the attention in the room must be on this scene and you’re both flattered and a little shy. You have to refrain from reaching out to Eddie, have to refrain from letting your fingers glide up his stomach, feel him. As if reading your mind, though, he grabs your hands, sliding them up his stomach and chest, encouraging you. You’re so taken with him you don’t register that the other two strippers have joined him until Billy’s murmuring in your ear from behind you.

“Happy Birthday, sweetheart,” his honey voice drawls, hands resting on one of your shoulders.

Jonathan comes to stand behind you as well, and in his hand is a shot of whatever liquor the girls had ordered for you. He holds it where you can see it, your head tilted back to look at him. He gives you a smile - one that momentarily shatters the raunchy stripper vibe and reveals his true kindness. He quirks an eyebrow, waiting for you.

“Open,” Eddie says, smirking down at you while he resumes in giving you a lap dance, his hips grinding lower over your lap now. He’s as close as he can be without pressing his full weight on you.

Lift up the receiver, I’ll make you a believer

Your lips part, your whole body vibrating as Jonathan tips the shot glass down towards your mouth. The liquid falls in a single stream onto your tongue, and you swallow it in one go.

“Mmm, she knows how to swallow,” Eddie purrs, and you feel your face heat up under his intense stare.

You can only imagine the looks on your friends’ faces, but you hear their cheers for you along with the rustling of dollar bills that you can only assume are being shoved in the guys’ pants. Jonathan and Billy turn to head back on stage, but not before turning back to get one last eyeful of you. You blow kisses at them, giggling when they pretend to catch them. Eddie’s still focused on you, still invading your personal space. You’re squeezing your thighs together beneath your tight little dress, looking right into his eyes as he laughs to himself. He stands, walking around your chair slowly. Your left hand slips bills into his tight pants, your fingers lingering just a moment too long. Feeling a little bold, you grab his tie with your other hand and tug on it playfully, almost catching him off guard but he steels himself. He quirks an eyebrow at you, now standing behind you. He bends down, gravelly voice rumbling in your ear.

“You have no idea what that does to me, sweetheart.”

Your own personal Jesus

Eddie’s lips nearly touch your earlobe as he speaks. The way his breath makes your skin tingle can only be described as a religious experience. Ringed fingers caress your arm before he picks up your hand, placing a kiss to the back of your palm. He teasingly bites one of your fingers, flustering you for probably the millionth time tonight. He finally retreats, mouthing one last ‘happy birthday’ as he returns to the stage. He’s not done with his show though, joining his costars for a little bit of action on the pole that waits for him. His leather pants squeeze his ass so tight, you hope you’re not drooling as you watch him. You suddenly wish he was back on your lap, murmuring filthy things into your ear, fucking you senseless. But you can’t hook up with the stripper, you remind yourself, and you try to wave the thoughts away as you watch the rest of his little performance.

There’s no denying the way he locks eyes with you any moment he can, strong limbs wrapping around the pole as he seems to effortlessly spin a little. Chrissy reaches out to touch your arm, giggling excitedly.

“He can’t stop looking at you, ohmygosh!” she squeaks, pulling her lip between her teeth as you meet Eddie’s eyes once more, as if to confirm her statement.

“Where do I inquire about adopting a stripper?” Robin asks jokingly. “Yeah, um, I’d like to take that one home please… and can we wrap him in a pretty bow?” she says, pretending like she’s talking on the phone to someone important. “Seriously, I think he likes you,” she says to you, tone serious once more.

“Guys, come on. Do you know how many girls he probably does this same exact routine to?” you say, waving a hand dismissively and trying to be lighthearted, but you can’t deny the sting in your chest when you say the words.

Eddie is a stripper. This is a routine - a money maker. It’s all just a calculated game to him. He probably treats every other birthday girl the same way he treated you. Your mouth feels dry suddenly, and you throw back another shot to hopefully drown out the incoming sadness. Even if it’s a routine, it doesn’t make him any less hot, and it doesn’t mean you still can’t have fun, you think to yourself. You focus your eyes back up at the three gorgeous men on stage, watch as they move in unison, gyrating and touching their bodies and each others’ bodies. Cash is being thrown to the stage around them, raining down as the lights flash and pulse. Eddie keeps catching your eyes, winking at you for good measure. The alcohol in your system enhances the effect he has on you. He’s so close to you yet so far, you want to grab a hold of him and pull him to you.

Reach out and touch faith

The song comes to a steady close, music fading as the guys all bow and blow kisses and wave. You and your friends are all clapping and cheering with giddy delight, your head a wonderful swirl of explicit thoughts. They slip back behind the curtain, one by one, and your heart pangs for a moment when Eddie gives one last pointed wave in the direction of your table before disappearing behind the black velvet.

“Oh. My. God!” Chrissy’s mouth is agape, her lips shiny from her sparkly lipgloss. She fans herself, mock-fainting back into her chair, making the whole table laugh. You must sound like a bunch of schoolgirls, blushing and fussing over a few pretty boys.

“So, like, we’re not gonna drop the fact that Eddie is totally in love with you, right?” Robin asks, turning her body to face you.

You roll your eyes, fingers pressing into her arm as you shove her oh-so-gently. “Stoooop. He is not in love with me,” you say, biting on your lip to hold back a smile.

“You can’t even say that with a straight face! You, at least, are in love with him,” she says matter of factly, nodding her head once with finality.

“I am not!” you meekly defend, taking a bite of another cupcake to avoid talking more.

“Oh come on, babe, you’re not fooling me. I’m not into the guys, I was just watching for your reactions the whole time. You are sooo crazy for him,” she laughs, Vickie nodding along as she talks.

You feel your cheeks heat to an impossible temperature, shaking your head incessantly as you continue to devour your dessert.

“Hey, at least he gave you a little souvenir,” Nancy says, nodding towards the shirt that he’d thrown at you, which now rests on the table top. You’d nearly forgotten about it. The fact that it was once on his gorgeous body, and now you have it, makes your head spin.

The topic of conversation eventually shifts, easing the pressure on you to answer their every question about Eddie. Your thoughts, however, linger on him. You were totally fucking into him, and you’re screwed. All he was doing was acting out a routine, probably something he does for every birthday girl or bachelorette that steps foot in here and has money to offer. That fact didn’t stop you from wanting him, though, your mind wandering to how it would feel to have those rings of his pressed deep inside of you, his lip ring cold against your mouth and the skin of your neck.

“Hello? Anybody home in there? Did you have too much to drink? Oh my god, are we gonna have to take you to the hospital on your twenty-fifth birthday?” Robin’s voice breaks you from your trance, your eyes widening in realization that you’d totally drifted off to outer space for a minute there.

“What? Oh god, no. I’m fine, sorry, just zoned out a bit,” you give them a reassuring smile, not wanting them to press you again about the too-attractive men that were all over you tonight.

“No worries, we were saying we were probably gonna get going, it’s pretty late,” Vickie jumps in, sticking out her thumb and motioning towards the door.

“Oh, yeah, of course! I’m getting tired anyways,” you affirm, moving to stand with the rest of the table.

You bid your friends goodbye, giving each of them a hug and thanking them for setting this outing up for you. You decide to hit the bathroom before you leave, declining Nancy’s offer of a ride home, so they all go on without you. You make your usual promises to text them soon and plan another get together before they leave you, stepping out into the cool night and going home.

Entering the bathroom, you find that you’re alone, much to your relief. You stare at yourself in the mirror, genuinely enjoying your appearance tonight. You wonder if Eddie thought you looked good, too. You let yourself wonder if he truly was interested in you like your friends were insisting. Sighing, you sit down on the toilet, pressing your palms to your cheeks and tugging the skin down frustratedly. You wish you’d been in a setting where you could’ve asked Eddie for his number or something, or even just actually had the chance to talk to him, to hold a conversation.

You’re lost in your thoughts as you finish up in the bathroom, making your way towards the door to leave. The chill of the air conditioning suddenly feels too cold, giving you goosebumps, and you quickly throw on the shirt Eddie had given you to keep yourself warmer. It’s the only cover-up you have, so, what else could you do? You totally don’t think about how it smells like him as you approach the exit. Your palm presses against the glass door, heaving it open in front of you. Heels step onto pavement, your eyes searching your bag to ensure you have everything. But as you’re looking, you bump into another figure.

“Oh shit! I’m sor-” you go to say, but the words evaporate into thin air when you see who you’d run into.

His leather jacket covers his arms and torso, dark brown curls draped over his shoulders. He has a cigarette dangling from his full pink lips, and a silver lip ring catches the light from the parking lot lamps for just a moment as he turns. Deep brown eyes meet yours, a soft expression on them. He recognizes you instantly, of course.

“Oh, hey, sweetheart. I’m sorry, I should’ve been paying more attention,” he apologizes sincerely, eyes raking over your frame, but not in a way that makes you feel small or uncomfortable.

“No, that’s my fault too. Sorry,” you admit, looking down at your high-heeled feet. You’re suddenly shy, and you wish you had some more liquid courage to down right about now.

“I’m Eddie, by the way. If you didn’t catch it earlier,” he says, holding a hand out for you to shake.

“Y/N,” you tell him your name, taking his hand in your far softer grip, bouncing them once in a greeting.

“Nice shirt,” he says, eyeing the black button down that rests loosely on your body.

“O-oh! Did you want it back?” you ask, embarrassment creeping up your spine. He wasn’t supposed to see you in his shirt, it was just to keep you warm until you could get home and change. Your eyes look towards the ground, suddenly too shy to look at him even though he’d quite literally been grinding on you an hour ago.

“Keep it,” he says, smiling brilliantly at you. “Looks better on you, anyways.”

“Thank you,” you say, voice impossibly quiet. A small smile tugs on the corners of your lips. Why is your heart pounding so hard?

“You don’t have to be nervous around me, sweetheart,” he continues as if reading your thoughts, and his deep syrupy voice is reassuring as he places a gentle hand on your arm. “Promise I don’t bite…. unless you want me to,” he says, giving you a cute little smirk.

You tug your bottom lip between your teeth, holding back a giggle. You scrape the toe of your shoe on the concrete absentmindedly, looking down at it as Eddie watches you.

“Did y’have a nice birthday?” he asks coolly, his index and middle finger delicately holding the cigarette at his side as he leans against the wall of the building.

You feel your cheeks heat, and you curl your lips inward to hide your smile a little. “I had a great birthday,” you say finally. You shove your nerves down, reminding yourself of the way he was all over you before. Maybe your friends were right, maybe he really is into you.

You feel like the universe is giving you a chance here, giving you an opportunity to talk to Eddie one-on-one like you’d wanted. Better not fuck it up, you think as you prepare your next words. “There was this really hot stripper that made the day so much better…” you trail off, shyness still evident but feeling more confident under the way he eyes you up.

“Oh? Tell me more about him,” Eddie says, stepping ever so slightly closer to you.

“Well, he’s tall and muscular and so handsome, and he has really sexy tattoos…” you say, flashing him a brilliant smile as he watches you through hooded eyes, “and he just made me feel so special, and it’s such a shame I couldn’t get his number or anything…..” you sigh exaggeratedly, your doe eyes looking up at him.

Eddie smiles, and you swear it looks shy, like he isn’t used to the compliments or the attention. Like he doesn’t do what he does for a living.

“Well, I’ll have you know there was this girl… I hear it’s her birthday, actually, and she just made my shift so much better than it could have been,” he rambles. “She was just the prettiest thing,” he says, not breaking your gaze as he does.

“Oh, yeah?” you reply, tilting your chin up to him.

“Yeah,” he says softly, looking down the bridge of his nose at you. “And I think I can do her one better than just giving her my number,” he murmurs, pulling you against his chest.

“What did you have in mind?” you ask, half-lidded eyes flitting from his lips to his eyes and back down again. He purses his lips in a smirk, stomping his cigarette out with the toe of his shoe.

“Why don’t you come back to my place and I’ll show you?”

“Hm. That depends. You’re not a serial killer, are you?” you ask, teasing.

“Oh, shoot, sweetheart. You caught me,” Eddie says, holding his hands over his eyes and peering through his fingers.

You laugh, and he thinks about how he’d like to hear that sound a lot more. He reaches a hand out for you to take, nodding down at it. “Whaddya say? Care to join me?” he asks, and you meet his eyes as he peers through his bangs at you.

His open hand waits, silver rings catching the fluorescent light from the lamps in the parking lot. It beckons you, asking you to take it. The song from earlier rings in your head.

Reach out and touch faith

You take his hand, lacing your fingers with his. “Lead the way, handsome.”

Eddie’s vehicle is nice, extremely nice, actually. It’s a black Jeep, black leather seats with red details and stitching. The money he makes at the club clearly pays off, you suppose. Hell, you’d seen how much cash he’d been thrown tonight alone - including what you’d contributed. He has a pair of red fuzzy dice that hang from the mirror, and you can’t help but laugh to yourself as you swat them once, making them sway where they hang.

“Are you laughing at my dice, sweetheart?” he asks, shuffling into his own seat.

“Oh, no. I’d never,” you say, biting back a smile.

His sparkling eyes don’t leave yours, pulling you in, refusing to let you go. You notice his tongue dart out to wet his lips, notice the way he leans ever so slightly towards you. The tension in the closed space suddenly grows palpable, like you could slice it with your fingernail if you reached out.

You don’t make it to Eddie’s place. You don’t even make it out of the parking lot.

You’re the one to close the distance between the two of you, leaning over the center console of the car to press your lips to his. He grunts in pleasant surprise, his hands finding their way to your cheeks as he deepens the kiss. Your heart is racing, thoughts going a mile a minute as you process the fact that this is really happening. You can feel the metal of the ring adorning his bottom lip as your mouth glides against his, the jewelry not getting in the way but remaining noticeable. His tongue doesn’t ask for permission, just slides its way past your parted lips. It mingles with yours, swapping spit back and forth in a heated encounter. You bite his bottom lip and tug, toying with the metal ring with your teeth. He whines, pulling away from you the slightest bit, eyes half lidded as he jerks his head to the side, motioning to the backseat.

“Get in the back,” he pants, “need you right here, right now.”

You oblige, opting to get out of the car and actually go in through the back door rather than climbing ungracefully over your seat. Eddie follows suit, crawling towards you like an animal stalking its prey, not satisfied till his face hovers over yours, his mouth dipping down to meet your soft lips. He captures them briefly before pulling away again, moving down further to press kisses to your jawline, your neck, your collarbone. You feel his tongue and teeth against the skin, biting, sucking, licking. You whimper beneath him, raising your hips to brush against his. The chuckle that leaves his mouth sends a shiver down your spine, one of his strong hands coming down to push your hips firmly against the seat.

“Such a needy thing, hm?” he tuts, looking up at you with those big doe eyes before he resumes kissing your neck.

His hand holds you in place like it’s easy work, keeping you still when your body tries to writhe beneath him. The smell of his cologne fills your nose, intoxicating as you breathe it in along with the whisper of cigarette smoke from the one he’d had mere minutes ago. The chain around his neck dangles low, the guitar pick pendant brushing the dip between your breasts that your dress leaves partially exposed.

You remember the way he teased you inside the club, remember the way he let you tug on his tie, the way his hips gyrated above your lap. You grow wetter at the memories, more than ready to actually get to have him now. You pull his shirt off of your shoulders, playfully tossing it at him, mimicking the way he’d tossed it at you. His eyes go wide at it, a hand pressing to his forehead as he pretends to swoon, making you laugh. The shirt gets discarded to the floor, Eddie leaning back over your frame. He shoves the neckline of your dress down, freeing your tits for him. You went braless tonight and you’re thanking yourself for it, the ease with which he takes one of your peaked nipples into his mouth sending you reeling. He sucks on one, then the other, his hand always toying with the mound of flesh that isn’t currently being entertained by his tongue.

“Eddie,” you whine, arching your chest further into his touch.

“What is it, baby?” he purrs, the hand on your hip now skirting down your thigh, reaching the hem of your dress and hiking the fabric upwards.

“Please,” you reply breathlessly, not begging for anything specific but just for more.

He looks at you, leaning back on his calves, hands raking over your thighs as he slides back.

“Look how pretty you are,” he muses, eyes trained on the lace between your thighs. Your dress is pushed up so far, leaving you almost entirely exposed.

He presses his thumb over your clit, just a thin excuse for fabric separating his skin from yours. You suck in a sharp breath, bucking your hips slightly into his touch.

“Oh, she wants me to touch her so bad, huh?” he teases, finger stroking over the growing wet patch on your underwear.

“Please,” you whine again, gasping when Eddie hooks a finger into your panties, yanking them down.

His big hands delicately take your heels off of your feet, setting them on the floor of his car. He tugs your panties completely off of your legs then, letting them land wherever he tosses them. His leather jacket comes off as well, being thrown into the front seat. His black t-shirt hugs his biceps well, the fabric clinging to his body in a way that makes him so much more enticing.

He swipes a finger up through your folds, collecting your slick before bringing said finger to his mouth. He sucks on it, tasting what he can of you and moaning. You’re awestruck watching him, feeling like your heart is going to beat out of your chest when his eyes meet yours, dark and needy. He crouches down swiftly, settling himself so his face is right in front of your waiting pussy. His tongue sticks out, licking up your folds in the same pattern his finger had just followed. You cry out in pleasant surprise as he begins eating your cunt, a present perfectly unwrapped just for him. He presses his tongue inside of you, velvety muscle tasting every inch of you.

His hands grip your thighs, holding your legs open for him. Dark brown eyes look up to meet yours, and the sight is unholy. The way his lips attach to your clit and suck, the way he purposefully makes a show of dragging his tongue through your puffy, swollen lips, never once breaking eye contact. It makes you want to worship him, a divine presence for you to praise.

Someone to hear your prayers, someone who cares

“Eddie…” you whine, screwing your eyes shut when his tongue flicks faster over your clit.

He simply hums in response, a pleased noise that vibrates against your core. He knows what he’s doing to you, he can tell by the way you whimper and writhe beneath him. His tongue stays focused on your clit as he brings two fingers to your entrance, slipping them easily inside of you. You gasp, tugging on his hair in desperation. He groans, a deep, throaty noise that catches you by surprise.

“Keep fuckin’ pulling my hair, sweetheart,” he murmurs against your wet heat. “Wanna know how good ‘m makin’ you feel.”

Your back arches into his touch when he curls those fingers inside of you, perfect pink lips still pursed around your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your orgasm is quickly approaching, tension building and building in the pit of your stomach the more he winds you up.

“Eddie, I- I’m gonna-” you pant, fingers still entwined in his curls, eliciting more pleased sounds from him.

His fingers only move quicker in response, curling inside of you and bringing you right to the edge, letting you plummet into bliss. You clench around him, squeezing his fingers over and over as he works you through your high. You jerk your hips, suddenly overstimulated, and Eddie takes the hint. He removes his fingers, his mouth unlatching from your sensitive clit.

“You taste so fucking good, baby,” he grins, flashing those perfect white teeth at you.

You flush, scrunching your face in embarrassment before he leans down to kiss you again. You can taste yourself on him, and it makes you throb. You suck lightly on his tongue, letting out a breathy laugh when he grinds his hips against you in response.

“Fuck, angel, need to be inside you…” he murmurs, mouth pressing kisses to the shell of your ear.

“Mmm, not yet,” you reply, capturing his lips in another quick kiss. “If I don’t have my mouth on you in the next five minutes I’m not gonna survive,” you purr, mouthing at his jaw, sucking the supple skin of his neck.

He groans, raspy and deep, letting you mark him as your fingers make quick work of the button and zipper of his tight jeans. His erect cock hangs heavy in the thin fabric of his boxers, finally letting you gauge how big he is. You swallow, hand wrapping around the outline of his cock and squeezing. Eddie inhales sharply, dropping his head to rest on your chest. His arms tense as he props himself up, his resolve threatening to crumble with the way your thumb teases his tip through cotton fabric. You can feel the pre-cum leaking from him, sticky strings of it attaching to the pad of your finger as you tease.

“Baby, mmmmfuck,” he moans, looking back up at you with pleading eyes.

“Sit back,” you instruct him, removing your hand from his bulge. “Let me take care of you.”

He just about combusts when you clamber to the floor of the spacious back seat, tugging his boxers from around the taper of his hips. You let them drop to his ankles, pooling around his shoes. His cock springs free in front of you, heavy and leaking for you. The trimmed patch of hair at the base has your mouth watering, his balls hanging beneath like the perfect temptation. You open your mouth, making a show of sticking your tongue out as you tap the tip of his cock against it. You give teasing licks across the head, lapping up the pre-cum and tasting him properly.

He whines above you, his head thrown back and the veins in his neck pulsing. His previously cocky demeanor is gone in this moment, giving in completely to how desperate he is for you. It seems to be a give and take, both of you worshiping each other like the holiest entities.

You take him fully past your lips, saliva pooling beneath your tongue. You bob your head, coating him with your spit. The girth of him stretches your mouth uncomfortably, and you move slowly as you adjust to taking him. One of his hands flies down to your hair, gripping it to give himself some sort of leverage.

The sight of you on your knees for him, tits hanging free on your chest and your perfect lips sucking him right in has him feeling like he could melt into the seats of his car. Your big doe eyes peer up at him, feeling like a shot to the fucking heart.

“God, baby, your mouth feels like fucking heaven,” he praises, watching himself disappear into your perfect mouth.

You hum in satisfaction, picking up your pace. You take him until his head hits the back of your throat, making your throat restrict as you gag around him. The whine that comes out of him is sinful, there’s no other word to describe it, and it has you pressing your thighs together for some relief to your core that already aches for him again. His modest muscles strain against the tight fabric of his t-shirt, every inch of his body trying to maintain composure and failing. You grip his balls with one hand, holding the base of his shaft with the other. You pump his cock in your fist in tandem with how your mouth bobs on his length, other hand squeezing the squishy flesh of his balls simultaneously. He almost jumps off the seat his hips buck so hard, forcing another gag from you as his cock hits your throat again.

Your nose brushes the curly hair on his pubic bone, and you take a deep breath as you pull your mouth off of him, regaining your control. You continue what you’d been doing, both of your hands and your mouth working him closer and closer to release. Strings of curse words leave his perfect parted lips, the hand in your hair guiding the movements of your head ever so slightly.

“Babybabybaby,” he rushes out, a strangled groan escaping with the words. “Don’t wanna - fuck - don’t wanna cum yet. Need to fuck you, pretty girl,” he says, his chest heaving as he catches his breath.

You press soft kisses to the head of his cock, the skin still flushed a darker shade of pink, ready and waiting to be inside of you. He pulls you up onto his lap, hands immediately cupping your breasts and squeezing as he presses a rough kiss to your lips. Your dress remains bunched up at your middle, your glistening pussy rubbing right against Eddie’s cock, sending shockwaves through your entire body.

Eddie stops the slow rocking of your hips suddenly, as if startled.

“What’s wrong?” you urge, meeting his eyes that hold a guilty expression.

“I totally don’t have condoms…” he says sheepishly, biting his lip.

“Oh - I mean, we don’t need to use one, if you’re okay with that. I’m on the pill and I - I’m clean, and stuff,” you ramble, wondering why you’re finding it so fucking hard to get words out now.

“I’m clean too. Promise. I, uh, don’t exactly do this often,” he looks at you shyly, the demeanor unfitting for him. The confession that he doesn’t do this often admittedly makes your heart swell, all of those nervous thoughts you’d had about him earlier, about being part of a routine, washing away gradually. “But if you’d rather we don’t, it can wait till next time,” he continues.

“Next time?” you ask, cocking an eyebrow at him.

“Y-yeah. I mean, I mean if you want to see me again after thi-” you cut off his nervous stammering with a firm kiss, your fingers cupping his chin as you claim his mouth with yours. His nervousness makes him so much less intimidating, taking him down from being this larger-than-life entity, an unobtainable stripper who sees attractive women every night, to just being… a regular guy. A cute, sweet, charming guy who’s also insanely sexy.

Pulling away, he smiles lazily at you, kiss-drunk and awestruck. “Yes I want to see you again. And yes I want you to fuck me, right here right now,” you reassure him, your sultry gaze enough to make him do anything you could ask of him.

“Fucking deal, babe,” he says, pulling his shirt over his head, exposing his chest to you. His tattoos are on full display, and your eyes rake over him, your cunt pulsing with all of your filthy thoughts. He smirks at you, clearly liking the way you drink him in, biting his lip as you raise your hips slightly so he can position his cock at your entrance.

You sink down onto him without a warning, the two of you gasping in unison. You grip his shoulders for leverage, the stretch to fit him slightly uncomfortable despite your extreme arousal. You work yourself down, down, down, slowly until you’re fully seated on him. He sits heavy and thick inside of you, making you ache with an enticing kind of soreness. Your walls flutter slightly around him as you wiggle your hips around, getting used to the feel of him. His hands grip your hips, his lips parted and his eyes screwed shut as you start to find your bearings on top of him. You dip your head down, rolling your hips on him as you suck a brutal hickey into the column of his throat. Your teeth gnash at soft skin, tongue soothing the sting afterwards. A low growl escapes him, fingers squeezing your doughy flesh as he starts to rut himself into your soaked cunt.

Breathy moans leave your lips, your jaw hanging open as he fucks into you faster. Your tits bounce in front of his face, and he wants to take them into his mouth and stay latched on forever. Perfect swells of skin, all for him to touch and kiss and suck. His hands grip the soft globes of your ass as his mouth sucks the skin of your chest, making you moan when his fingers squeeze hard.

You’re so fucking full of him you feel delirious, the head of his cock kissing your cervix with every deep stroke he delivers to you. His name is tumbling from your mouth in a rhythmic pattern, over and over, like a prayer. You really can’t get that damn song out of your head from before, and it makes so much sense why he chose it to be his.

Your own personal Jesus

You want to praise Eddie right beneath the roof of his Jeep. Want to shout his name from the rooftops, make the whole world know how good he’s fucking you right now. You want to follow every word he says, every command he gives you. You want to pray to him every night before you go to bed, you just want to worship him. The way his fingers dig into your skin and the way his lips suck on your neck make you feel like you’re being worshipped, too. He sucks and squeezes and fucks like this may be his last opportunity to, like he’s savoring every possible bit of you and committing you to permanent memory.

You bounce on his cock, gaining some more control as Eddie’s thrusts slow down with fatigue. You take the reins, cupping his face in your hand and kissing him hard. Licking into his mouth desperately, humming when his tongue meets yours. But then he somehow takes control again, making you pliant for him even as you ride him with vigor. He squeezes your jaw, letting your mouth fall open before he spits into it, a string of his saliva dropping onto your tongue. You swallow it, not needing to be instructed, and you swear Eddie gets even harder inside of you. You recall Eddie’s comment from earlier, when Jonathan had given you the shot. ‘She knows how to swallow.’

“Fuck, baby,” he grunts, jaw tight and the veins in his neck prominent as he stills your bouncing on top of him and thrusts up into you.

He goes so deep you’re left seeing stars, lurching forward and gripping his shoulders for stability. Your body feels like it could crumple into itself if you let it, every one of your limbs overtaken with pleasure. You feel a familiar tension building higher and higher in the pit of your stomach. The sound of his balls slapping against your skin and the occasional smacking of your lips against his fills the vehicle, the air growing humid with every hot breath that leaves your mouths. The sounds he makes are downright obscene, any bit of composure he’d had completely slipping away for you. His thrusts get faster, faster, and you let your fingers drop down to your clit, rubbing quick circles on the sensitive bud.

“Ohhhh fuck baby,” Eddie moans, watching the way your head tips back as you pleasure yourself. “Gonna cum for me? Gonna cum all over my cock?”

“Yes, fuck yes, Eddie,” you cry, thighs trembling as your orgasm crawls closer and closer.

His fingers squeeze your hips impossibly tight, one of his hands letting go only to deliver a swift smack to your ass. You whine, cursing under your breath as the pads of your fingers circle your clit again and again. Eddie fucks you ruthlessly, pulling almost entirely out just to sheathe himself inside of you again, taking your breath away. The friction and the fullness is euphoric, your body giving way completely to pleasure as your second orgasm finally rips through you. You’re screaming out for him, chanting his name again and again as you come undone on his cock. You soak him, lewd, wet noises coming from you as he continues to thrust beneath you.

“‘M gonna cum so fucking hard, baby,” he rasps, looking at you through his lashes. “Where do you want it?”

“Inside. Inside Eddie, please,” you rush out, begging him to fill you with his seed. He lets out a strangled whine at this, gripping your flesh even harder.

You swear his eyes roll back into his head, hips stuttering and his cock pulsing as you feel the warmth of his cum painting your insides. His final thrusts are sloppy as he gives you every last drop of his cum, your mouth hung open in a silent moan at the overwhelming sensation of him gliding against your sensitive walls.

His chest is heaving with each breath he takes, his palms splayed out across your lower back, holding you close to him when you slump forward. Your legs feel like jelly, weak and trembling from exertion. Your mind is fuzzy in the best way, a smile on your face when Eddie tilts you to look at him.

“You’re perfect,” he murmurs, his eyes roaming over your entire face, loving how blissed out you look. “Wanted to have you all to myself during our whole show tonight, god…” he continues, smirking a little as he shakes his head.

“I could say the same to you,” you reply, looking at his lips as you talk.

His mouth catches yours in a lazy kiss, tongues dancing together sloppily. His fingers rub soothing circles on your skin, slowly guiding you up and off of his softened cock.

“So, do I have to shove more dollar bills in your pants for all of that, too, or?” you joke, earning a laugh from Eddie that presents itself in a harsh puff of air from his nose.

“Nah, that’s on the house, baby,” he says, giving you a lopsided grin.

You both sit in silence for a moment, your delicate fingers tracing patterns up and down his arms. He looks at you like you’re an angel sent from the heavens, those chocolate brown eyes admiring you in the kindest way.

“Do you, uh, still wanna come back to my place?” he says finally, that ill-fitting nervousness creeping back into his voice.

“Hmmm,” you pretend to ponder, pulling your dress back up over your breasts and tugging the hem to rest normally on your thighs. “What’s in it for me?”

“I have a stripper pole in my living room,” he says with a smug grin. “I’ll give you your own private show.”

“Sold.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #stripper!eddie munson #stripper!eddie munson x reader #stripper!eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction

[hellfire--cult]

Edit of Eddie: Sofiiel

Stripper!Eddie x Shy!Fem!Reader

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 (end)

WC: 9.7k

⚠️ +18 MDNI, Stripper!Eddie, shyness towards men, nervousness, talking about traumas, self-esteem issues, fluff of some sort, self doubt.

Plot: You thought you were cursed with your shyness, but after one embarrassing night, you decide it's time to change, and you believe someone might be able to help with that.

Summary: You see someone in a coffee shop, and you make the first move towards a new life.

A/N: I didn't think so many of you would enjoy this story! I hope everything lives up to your expectations, we're gonna go slow with this one, but don't think that Billy and Steve won't participate in this project of yours ;)

As always, all reblogs help, tagging it as well, and I always enjoy reading your comments!

PART 2

Your eyes slowly opened, feeling completely light headed as you tried to focus all around you.

You groaned in pain as you felt a sharp sting in the back of your head and you felt the light above you blinding you, sharply. 

Where the fuck were you?

“Is she awake?” You heard a female voice talking. You tried focusing again and saw Kali’s face over yours and she smiled at you when she saw you open your eyes at her.

“She’s awake!” Kali says and you see more faces trying to come in focus over you, making you whine by how dizzy that made you. You heard Kali protesting to the other people to give you some space as she fanned your face with her hand. 

“W-Where am I?” You asked and slowly but surely, your senses started sharpening again. Below you, there was definitely a bed. Then, all the voices around you were female. And then, you smelt cinnamon, the same one as your scented candle in your room.

“Your apartment. Are you okay? Do you feel sick?” You heard Nancy ask worriedly as she held a bottle of water in her hand. Honestly, you didn’t feel sick, just plain dizzy, as if you had ran out of oxygen for a few minutes. You held onto Kali’s arm and slowly sat up, centering yourself in the room as it began to get in focus for your eyes. 

“Jesus, what happened?” You asked as you grabbed onto Nancy’s bottle and Robin looked at Nancy worriedly and then back at you.

“You fainted.” 

“That much I know Robs.”

“In front of the stripper.” You spat the sip of water you just took, dizziness completely gone now, embarrassment and shame taking over your body as an anxious knot filled in the center of your gut. Barb stepped away from in front of you just in time before she got drenched and you started coughing wildly as Vickie patted your back.

“Oh god, now I am gonna be sick.” You say as nausea fills your stomach thanks to how humiliated you felt. You just remembered his brown eyes, looking at you, getting closer and closer to you. You winced as you tried to imagine his face when you simply blacked out in front of him. How pathetic it must have been for him. 

“Yeah, you’ve been out for thirty minutes.” You groaned loudly at Barb’s words and you looked at Nancy. You were so embarrassed for ruining her night, and even making all of them go through all of this. 

“Nance, I am so sorry. Words can’t describe how stupid I feel for this… I should have waited in the car, or in the bathroom, or away from the stage…” You hid your face in your hands as tears started to fill in your eyes. You felt so weak, so small because of this issue of yours. You made your friends end their fun night because of you.

“No, no! I shouldn’t have even considered a strip club knowing one of my bridesmaids doesn’t do good in a place like that!” Nancy replies, trying to make you realize she didn’t mind, but you were too far gone to notice that. How many more nights will you screw up in this way?

You remembered your prom night. Because of your shyness, you were always the target for bullying, and boys didn’t help at all with your case. They pulled your hair, got close to your face to tease you, grabbed your shoulders, caged you against the wall just to see you squeal in fear. 

So that night, you decided to try and be brave, only to be cornered inside the boy’s bathroom by three guys from the soccer team. They were telling you they could cure you if you’d only suck their dicks. That was all you needed. Thankfully, Kali smashed into the bathroom with a fire extinguisher and sprayed the men on the spot. She had seen you being pulled aside, and in your shock, you didn’t pull away, nor ran. 

That was a dangerous situation, but this one… This one was plainly humiliating. Embarrassing. Pathetic. 

The poor guy was just doing his job, and he had to see you crumble in front of him, just by his mere sight and touch. He was supposed to make you feel desired, and you cannot even imagine how he felt when you just fainted on him. Eddie. Poor Eddie.

“Hey, if he didn’t catch you in time, you would have hit your neck on the back of your chair.” You looked up to see Robin speaking to you.

“He helped me?”

“He even carried you to my car. Told me to drive safe and all.” Robin didn’t tell you, just to spare you from more embarrassment, but she explained your condition to Eddie and Joyce who were feeling responsible for what happened to you. The guy looked confused really, but didn’t press more than that and just waved all of you off. 

You were looking at Robin and then you looked at your arms. He had wrapped his arms around you, and lifted you in bridal style to carry you away. You sighed as you cursed at yourself for only being able to tolerate something like that when you were completely out and not conscious at all. 

You wanted to feel hands like that awake. You wanted to be able to enjoy a handsome man pampering you. You wanted to kiss a hot guy. You wanted and needed to be fucked with someone you felt attracted to, completely, not just barely. 

“Oh, sweetheart don’t cry… It really isn’t a big deal…” Kali wiped your tear away, one you didn’t even feel dropping, but she didn’t understand. It is a big deal. No one understands you, no one knows what this feels like. No one knows how you feel about this. No one gets it. 

You just wished you could be normal.

It’s been a week since that night, and you tried. You were seriously trying. 

But you were now in your fourth coffee shop, parking your car, because the last three you’ve been at, the baristas, were young men. As soon as you entered the doors and saw the counter and the man behind it, you immediately left. 

After that night, it seemed as if your shyness and your nervousness only worsened just by how humiliating those events were. You couldn’t even turn on your camera at the team meetings of your workplace, which thankfully, it was 100% from home. You worked at a big company just as an administrator, and it paid well so you didn’t complain.

Now, on a friday, you look forward to the afternoon coffee, and you were happy to see that in your fourth coffee place, you found a woman at the front counter. You walked towards her as you looked into your wallet, looking for cash.

“Hi! What can I get you?” You heard her cheery voice and you looked up with a smile.

“Hello, um… Just a medium coffee with a bit of creamer please.” She nodded at you and you handed her the money so she could go and start preparing you coffee. She asked for your name and told you she would call you once it was done. You nodded at that and stepped aside, grabbing your phone to scroll through your instagram. 

You smiled when seeing the stories of Robin. She was posting about how boring her classes were at nursing school. Then you jumped over to Nancy’s which was a picture of her and Jonathan. Your smile faltered a little at that.

Jonathan was a handsome guy, and when you met him you didn’t feel that immense shyness you always felt. You never knew why, because deep inside you, you knew he was attractive. Yet, you could shake hands with him, and engage in conversation as if it were a natural thing for you to do. 

A deep voice came from next to you, and your eyes widened. You knew that voice. You recognized it, because last time it vibrated so close to your ear, it had settled in the deep of your stomach. You slowly side eyed, turning your head just a bit and you held in the gasp as you felt your body grow a cold sweat. 

“The usual, Princess.”

Oh fuck. Shit. Son of a bitch. 

You could see his hair tied up in a bun, some specks of unshaved beard covered his jaw, and the smell. You could smell the wooden cologne. Kind of leathery like. You turned your head as you felt your whole face turn a deep shade of red, and it almost felt like it moved all over your body. 

Your fingertips felt like they were sweating, and the knot in your stomach was moving all around. She took his order and you stepped aside trying to create some space between you two. You looked away so he wouldn’t recognize your face, because if he did, you were sure you would die. 

Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest and you were looking at the barista’s every move. She was preparing your coffee now, and his presence was just overwhelming you entirely. You wanted, no, NEEDED, to bolt right out of there. You could hear him yawn as he stood next to you, and your nerves were going insane right now. You heard your name being called out, snapping you out of your almost panic attack. 

“Thank you…” You said almost in a whisper as you took the coffee in your hands. You didn’t waste a single second, turning away and rushing out of the shop, taking a deep breath in of the clear oxygen. Now, you don’t really think it would be adequate to fill your body with caffeine when your nerves were this bad, but you already paid for it. 

Your heart was on the verge of exploding as you took many deep breaths in. You should apologize to him, or say thank you for helping your friends carry you out of the club, but here you were, running once again. Like you always did. 

But is it something you really want to do? Do you want to keep running?

You turned around and saw him through the window, taking slow sips of his coffee as he looked through his phone. His profile was already making you sweat by just how good looking he was, without even trying, with the afternoon sun hitting him in the right places. 

You wanted a normal life. You wanted to be able to feel attraction. You wanted to be kissed passionately. You wanted physical touch. You wanted to be normal, simply normal. 

So your feet moved. They guided you towards the doors again. They guided you into the shop. The girl looked at you with confusion over the counter and then you turned, going towards the booth where the man was seated at.

Eddie though, didn’t even acknowledge you. He was tired, too spent from last night's show. He was grabbed onto more than usual, and he had done several personal lap dances. Everything was good money of course, and he knew he sealed his fate into being the favorite one the moment he agreed on being physical with clients. No more than a kiss, or some holding, but that made him wanted. 

He didn’t mind really, but when the ladies would take advantage of that and touch him, when they knew they shouldn’t, drove him up a wall. He wasn’t going to lie and say he didn’t bang one or two clients per week, sometimes for money, sometimes for his pleasure. This was all his doing. Joyce was against them doing that, but his colleagues, and himself, found out that their dicks can get them two thousand a night.

He didn’t even notice until a shadow casted over him, that made him look up, that you had sat right in front of him, making him frown in confusion because… You weren’t looking at him. You were looking downwards and he could almost see the steam coming out of one of your ears.

“Um–”

“I’M SORRY.” He jumped at the high pitched loud tone, almost a squeak, making him shake his coffee a little bit on his hand. 

“Jesus christ!” It was too late for loud noises, and much more for apologies he didn’t have a clue on why they were being said to him. And from a girl who wasn’t even looking at him. You were trembling, looking at your lap, because that apology came out way too embarrassing for your own good, and now you wanted nothing more but to crawl and disappear into thin air.

You stayed silent, trying to form words in your throat, but you could only feel the lump forming, and you cursed at yourself internally because you thought you were making progress by sitting in front of him, but now that you made a fool out of yourself, once again, you wanted to run away. But his voice stopped you.

“Holy shit, it’s you. The girl who fainted.”

Your blood went cold. Of course you would be remembered as that. Shit, everyone that night will remember you as the pathetic girl who fainted in the arms of a stripper. Your knuckles went white on your lap as you gripped them tightly, trying to fight the urge of running away. Your voice was still not found but there was no need because he kept talking.

“Are you alright? After that night?” He was asking for your wellbeing. This guy who didn’t even know you was asking if you were doing okay. You had to answer, you had to say something. Anything, just move your lips, make the air come out.

“Yes…” You almost mumbled it, but it was something. Eddie was squinting at you, his phone long forgotten on the table as he inspected you. He gave a small smirk, even if you weren’t looking at him, he just couldn’t help himself.

“And I thought your friend made up a horrible excuse for you that night, saying you were shy against men. I can see that she wasn’t lying.” Your body jerked up at that, your eyes widening and your head lifting up slightly, focused on his cup and he was finally able to see your face. You were beet red, making him smirk even more.

“Y-You were doing a great job! It’s m-my fault for trying to be strong and staying there!” Did you just say he was doing a great job? That formally? To a stripper? You winced at your words, ready to stand up and walk away but the sound of his laughter stopped you, and you wanted to look up, but you knew that it was going to make you freeze in place. 

“Thank you darling. I guess I appreciate the feedback.” He noticed how you jumped slightly at the nickname he gave you and he cleared his throat. “I guess I do, in fact, owe you an apology myself…”

At that, your eyebrow raised up, not looking at him, but staring at his phone this time, just trying to not meet his gaze at all. Why would he need to apologize to you?

“You didn’t do anything w-wrong!” You stuttered at the last words, but you were surprised to have found your voice quicker this time. 

“Well, Billy told me that there was a girl that needed her friend’s help to put a bill in his jeans. He told me what you looked like and what table you were at… You were my target that night.” You froze at those words, and the knots in your belly started tangling even more, not understanding why he would target you like that. “Shit, I didn’t know you actually had a problem with men, I mean… You were at a strip club, Sweets.” 

You couldn’t help the small huff that escaped your lips with the hint of a smile on your lips. It did sound quite stupid if he said it like that. He stared at your reactions, taking a sip out of his coffee and you could see the movement from the corner of your eye, reminding you that you have some coffee in your hand as well. You took a sip too, feeling the warmth in your throat, soothing out the dryness this interaction provoked in you.

“It was… My best friend’s bachelorette party…” You explained to him and he was still not understanding where you were getting at, so he stayed silent for you to elaborate which made your nerves peak up again. “I-I didn’t want t-to bail on her.” You stuttered again as you talked about your feelings to a stranger who grinded on you a few nights back.

“Ah. I see. Next time you go to a place like that, wear a sign or something around your neck. You know, like the dogs that wear a harness that say ‘Nervous’.” Those words coming out of his mouth finally made you open your mouth as a giggle came out. You covered your mouth to stop your laughing but he caught you way off guard.

Eddie was still staring at you, a bit of pride in himself as he saw you laughing because of him, and he was glad you got to loosen up a little bit in his presence. He was curious, way too curious for his own good. Ever since he got this job with his friends, roommates even, all the women he met were straightforward, knowing what they wanted, hands roaming without fear all over his body. Yet you are here, embarrassed for laughing in front of him.

And your eyes still never met his.

“Why did you approach me darling?” 

Your giggles stopped immediately, and your eyes slightly widened as you put your hands around your coffee again. Your heart was simply exploding now, and the tips of your fingers were tapping on the cup, trying to steady a normal breathing pace in your lungs, in sync. You were being engulfed by flames, and it worsened each time you remembered that his gaze was on you.

But you didn’t want to feel like this, which irritated you even more.

“I-I want help.” At that, Eddie raised his eyebrow in question, but he rested against the booth, waiting for you to continue. You stayed silent for a minute, noticing that he was being patient with you, acknowledging the fact that this wasn’t easy for you to do, and the knot in your stomach detangled just a bit, loosening up enough for you to keep talking. “I want to be normal.”

Eddie’s eyebrows twitched at that. You didn’t think you were normal just because you had this situation going on with yourself. He felt a little sad for you, and he couldn’t even imagine for how long you really struggled with this. 

“I want– I want to be able to have a normal life…” You pressed on and he was slowly understanding where you were getting at, and he looked at your cup, seeing your name written on it. 

“Right… And you want my help with what exactly?” 

“I want to fight this… this shyness… I don’t want to be nervous anymore. I am tired of making a scene or embarrassing myself because of it. I don’t want my friends to accommodate to my needs everytime we go out…” You didn’t even notice that you did not stutter once at those statements. Statements you were fully aware of yourself and you were fed up with. Eddie, obviously, noticed, raising his eyebrows up, losing themselves under the small fringe of his curls.

He was looking at you, wondering how this day turned completely on its axis and now you were sitting in front of him, shaking like a deer in front of some headlights, but still voicing your worries out. He was skeptical really, not knowing if this was all a farce to get in his pants for free. 

He wasn’t going to lie, he would fuck you for free. You were pretty, but you didn’t make an effort to show that off. Your clothes were bland, your make up was just some blush on your cheeks, and your hair was tied up in a ponytail. 

But if your intentions were to sleep with him, you wouldn’t have said what you said next.

“I w-will pay you! I just want to– be able to talk eye to eye…” His heart clenched slightly at that. You didn’t want him to teach you sexual stuff, or something of the sort… You just wanted to be able to talk to him properly, or any man for that matter. He gave a small nod, as if in thought, even if you weren’t even looking at him. 

His life has been very monotonous lately. For the past year to be exact. It was work, women, eat, sleep, shower, and do it all over again, every single day. He didn’t know if his roommates felt the same, but he knew that Steve started pottery classes, and then Billy had gotten the hobby of playing video games in his free time. 

Yet Eddie didn’t have the motivation to do anything. Until now. 

This was new, intriguing, and something that might ignite some fire in his everyday mundane life. So he reached his hand out towards you, and you looked at his ringed fingers with wide eyes, wondering what was going on.

“First things first. Presentation. I’m Eddie.” He said to you and his hand was waiting patiently. You gulped as you stared down at it, but then realization hit you. He was going to help you with this, and a flame of happiness ignited in you, slowly reaching out and putting your palm against his. You noticed the different size and the warmth of his skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

You gave him your name in a stutter and he grinned when he closed his hand on yours and saw you stiffen slightly, so he softened his grip, to then move your hands up and down gently in greeting. He pulled away, and you put your hand onto your lap as quickly as you could. Your whole body was ablaze, still looking at his phone to not clash eyes with him. 

“I-I can pay you–”

“Nothing.” Your eyes widened at that, raising an eyebrow up in question and you almost raised your head to look at him. “You look really shaken by this, and taking money from you doesn’t really sit right with me… And who knows, maybe this will blossom into an odd friendship.” 

Those words slipped out of his mouth before he could help it, and a slight pink tint formed on his cheeks. He really did crave for another friendship, already getting tired of just being with Billy and Steve. They are great, and they are almost like brothers, but maybe that was the thing. It was just those two, and no one else. 

You on the other hand turned a deep red at that, feeling your heart banging in your chest, not being able to take it anymore and you grab his phone, startling him completely and his eyes went wide at the action, but you didn’t move from the seat. You opened the dial without unlocking the phone, sliding up from the right corner of the screen and you pressed your cell phone number in there. 

You slid it back to him and stood up, not being able to handle the pressure of his stare any longer and he held onto his phone to look down at the number on it. His eyebrows centered in the middle with a frown and he raised his head up only to see you gone, turning his head around until he saw you rushing out of the shop through the window and into your car. 

He looked down at his screen, biting the inside of his cheek. He looked at his cup and saw the number of the barista under his name. She had tried many times to put her number down in his cup, but he never saved it on his phone. He looked down on your number, a scoff coming out of his lips.

“Hmm...”

You had been screaming into your pillow for the past half hour. 

You cannot believe what you did two hours ago. You gave your number to a stripper. To a goddamn stripper. And you even asked for help with this issue of yours, but what if it came out wrongly? What if he thought you were asking him to help you sexually? It didn’t really feel like that but what if you didn’t read the air right?

It was an impulse. A goddamn impulse, but you were fine, it was all going to be okay, because you left your phone, and maybe he doesn’t even indulge in this stupidity of yours and move on, or maybe he deletes it by mistake and everything will be back as it was before.

You stopped screaming at that.

But you didn’t want to go back to before. That’s why you took that chance, and you have to look at the positive side of all of this. You sat in front of him, you talked to him, you shook his hand! You shook a handsome man’s hand! That’s improvement, a lot of it. Yes, if you put your mind to it, maybe you can change this stupid part of yourself.

You remembered his voice. Deep but with a hint of mischief behind it, and then those words that sounded hopeful yet sad. How he managed to say that the two of you could become friends in the meantime. You wondered what his daily life was like now, outside of his job. Who did he live with? How old is he? What is his favorite food?

You grabbed your phone as you turned to look up at your ceiling. You unlocked your phone to start scrolling through TikTok. You smiled at all the dog videos that showed up on your For You page and saved all those cooking and baking tips you found. You were startled from your trance of scrolling when your phone started ringing. The beautiful sound ‘The Shire’ from The Lord of the Rings filled your ears which helped a lot to the anxious feeling of talking on the phone. Who did that nowadays?

You looked at the number and it was not saved on your phone. Should you answer? Maybe it’s a telemarketer. Did you forget to pay a bill? Internet? No, you paid all of those. Your eyes widened in realization.

What if it’s him?

You were about to start trembling and in your fuss you pressed the Answer button and you almost cried out as you started hearing the other side of the phone. 

‘We are calling to ensure you have the best communication serv–’

And you hang up, fucking automatic calls. You let out a sigh of relief until you felt that it wasn’t that much of relief at the end of it. Something felt uneasy within you, like something was not right. A certain disappointment maybe? Did you want him to be the one calling you? But that would be too much for you to handle, definitely. 

You sighed, sitting up on the bed, scratching your head until a soft ‘Ting’ on your phone caught your attention. You looked down on the notifications and it was a message from an unknown number. Your eyes widened when you looked into the text preview.

‘I believe that in text form, you won’t be too shy to talk to me.’

Your heart got caught in your throat as you begin to cough desperately. You weren’t expecting something from him so soon, and it startled you completely. You held onto your chest as you read the text again, and again and again… You didn’t feel the blood flowing at the tip of your fingers, his image coming up in your head. His side profile of today, but then his face up close to you, in the middle of purple and pink lights in the club.

You clenched your eyes tightly, trying to move the images away. You took a deep breath in and unlocked your phone, heading over to the text. First, you saved his contact, because you might forget right? Then you put in a personal notification message because you just felt like it, but maybe if you do that, you can also put in a special ringtone as well? You didn’t do that for everyone but you were feeling like–

You were stalling. You were definitely stalling. 

You gulped as you went back to the screen, now with the title ‘E’ because you didn’t want to receive a message from him when you were with your friends. They knew his name, so might as well tell them it’s Eleanor from work. 

You started typing ‘Hi’ but he didn’t start with hello, so you erased that. Maybe a ‘how are you’ or ‘how has your day been going’ but that really doesn’t sound right either, he didn’t ask you that at all. You deleted it again and were about to type in again until you saw the three dots that signaled you that he was typing.

‘Even on text? Damn, I wonder how many texts you just wrote and deleted.’

He caught you, red handed, and you took a deep breath in, pushing your embarrassment away as you started typing.

‘Not many.’ You were already biting the skin on the side of your left thumb thanks to your pumping heart, which only increased its beats every time you saw the three dots from his side.

‘Really? I bet you wrote ‘Hey handsome’ and deleted it, right?’

You giggled at that, feeling your nerves loosen up a bit at his cheekiness and you typed once more.

‘Oh, sure, whatever strokes your ego.’

‘That hurt princess.’ 

Your breath hitched at the endearment. 

‘You’ll survive.’

‘Black is not a color.’

‘Not you too with that bullshit. 🙄’

‘But it’s not, it’s a shade, as well as white!’

‘It’s my favorite color, a color, and that’s final.’

You giggled at the banter you were creating with Eddie over some texts. It’s been a week since you saw him and it’s been a week since you both started texting each other. They’re not long conversations really, just an hour a day or less, and it always starts with Eddie asking you something about yourself.

On Monday, it was your work. He made a lot of funny comments about how he is an accountant when you knew what his job actually is. Then Tuesday was about your favorite animal, in which you said Dog and he said bats. He told you he actually has a swarm of bats tattooed on his right forearm. Then food on wednesday, and favorite drink on thursday.

Today was about your favorite colors. 

Yours was red, sometimes purple, while Eddie claims that his favorite color is black. You were having fun messing with him, smiling at the phone as the nerves in your belly were kept to a minimum. You were surprised how loose you got when you received his texts, and it was almost as if you were excited when they did. 

“Why are you so smiley?” You blinked and looked up, completely forgetting you were having coffee with Robin at the Starbucks near your apartment complex. Robin actually got an apartment three floors down from yours and you were happy that you have a close friend as a neighbor. 

“Oh, um… El sent me a meme.” You lie, feeling your chest compress at it. You didn’t want to lie to your friends, but you were doing this behind their backs because you didn’t need the encouragement. You wanted to do this on your own, without the need of your friends overprotecting you as if you were a piece of paper that might rip apart at any comment a man does to you.

“Right…” She sipped on her coffee as another notification made you look down at the screen, and you went pale at what you saw. It was a message from Eddie, yes, but the anxiety started filling your stomach as you read what he wrote to you.

‘We should hang out this weekend. Test the waters.’

He was asking you out. Well not asking you out, more like hang out, as friends, but, oh no. You were feeling nauseous, the memory of his face, and his stomach showing coming up in your mind. You don’t think you will be able to tolerate it, and you don’t even know if you can trust this guy. You haven’t told your friends about Eddie, and if you went missing or something–

“IT’S EDDIE.” You blurted out, startling Robin, your panic winning completely over you. She spat the coffee, coughing loudly as she punched her chest a few times, trying to recover herself. You on the other hand were slightly panting from the anxiety that was eating you up, but the need to feel protected won you over. 

“What!?” 

“I AM TALKING WITH EDDIE.” You said again loudly, making various customers turn their heads at the commotion and Robin made you lower your voice with a big ‘shh’ and a hand movement. 

“Eddie… Who the fuck is Eddi– Oh, WHAT?!” Now the customers turned their heads at Robin’s explosion. You were clutching your phone to your chest and you could feel your eyes beginning to heat up from the tears that were threatening to leave them. 

“I know, I’m so sorry, I didn’t want to lie, but-but–” 

“Why are you talking to–” Robin looked around and bent over a little closer to whisper to you. “To the stripper?! Are you nuts?!”

“I mean– I might? I don’t know? I–” You took a deep breath in, closing your eyes as Robin sighed in front of you. “I just need help… Being normal…” Robin’s eyes turned those into sad ones as she looked up at you. She stood up, putting her hand out for you to take.

“Tell me all about it while we head back to your place.”

“Yep, you are definitely crazy.”

You were pacing back and forth while Robin watched you from the couch, looking down at all the texts you’ve sent Eddie. But even if she did call you crazy, your friend was proud of you because she never thought you would tell a man about your favorite things. She also didn’t expect this Eddie guy to actually be gentle with you, never crossing a line, never flirting with you.

She wondered if his intentions were pure and when you told him he didn’t accept the money, Robin was baffled. Now, the true reason as to why you had told her about this, is because of his last message. He didn’t pressure you into saying yes, so that was a green flag, and it also lets someone know who you were with last in case the worst case scenario happens.

“I know I am crazy Robin, I fucking know, it was an impulse–”

“But I think it’s working… I mean, maybe he can actually figure out what’s going on in that head of yours.” You gulped at that and continued pacing. Nothing traumatic with men happened to you, the absence of your father and the multiple cheating on your mother helped, but it didn’t explain the reason as to why it was almost as if you were terrified of men. Attractive men at that. 

You had of course the bullying at primary school, and then all the way to high school, but you cannot really pinpoint anything too cruel. 

“Robin, I– I don’t even know him. What if he makes a move on me?” You would probably pass out and he would have access to do whatever. You really don’t know the guy, even if he seems trustworthy on text messages, that’s just what they are. Text messages. He could be lying, he could be pretending to be something he is not, and you can’t read his face or his movements. Not that you would if you were in person either, because you can’t fucking look at him.

“I don’t think– Look, invite him to the bar three blocks down, just the two of you, and don’t make a fuss about it. He seems cool, and he never overstepped from what I’ve seen… Nothing with a double meaning either.” She was trying to reassure you, to help you with it. For some reason Robin had a feeling that you didn’t cross paths with the stripper again just out of pure coincidence. She was a fair believer of fate, and karma. 

“I– I mean it is public, a bar.” She gave you a nod and handed you the phone. You took it into your trembling fingers, looking down at the messages.

“Yes, and you have me as your emergency contact. You just have to press the lock button 5 times and I know where to get you.” That statement actually calms you a lot. And the fact that you would be at a bar three blocks away from home was also bringing you relief. “Remember, this is not a date… He is not asking you out romantically.”

“Right, I know that, as a friend.” You replied to her, giving Robin a nod as you felt another uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach that you couldn’t describe once more. You looked down at your phone, and licked your lips, gulping loudly as you typed in your response.

‘Does tomorrow at 6, the bar between Monroe ST. and Chadwick sound good to you?’

You almost threw the phone towards Robin, feeling yourself cringe at the risky message you just sent, but if you truly think hard about it, he was the one who sent it first. Robin caught your phone as it trembled in your hand. She heard a popping sound and looked down at the screen, a smirk breaking on her lips.

“Sounds perfect, and I will give you a whole presentation on why Black is indeed a color."

You were trying to calm your nerves as you looked at the watch, every now and then on your phone. It’s already 6:05 PM and he didn’t show. It’s only five minutes late, but maybe he bailed?

But he was the one who asked you, why would he bail? But maybe he regretted it? Oh god, did he have to work today? You invited him without even asking and maybe he has a full night and you didn’t even think of–

“Parking around here is a pain in the ass Princess.” You heard his voice as he passed by you, sitting at the seat of the booth in front of you. You felt your body tensing up, and you were now self conscious of your clothes. But it wasn’t a date, so you dressed normally, and you applied a bit of mascara. You weren’t good at doing your own makeup so you settled for the simplest of things, because if you tried to do something, it would be worse than nothing.

Your eyes immediately drifted to the napkin holder on the side as you tried to gather up courage to talk to him. He sighed and put his phone on the table, right in front of him, which made your gaze drive to that. He did it so that he could see your face instead of your profile, taking note that last time you were together, your eyes didn’t leave his phone.

From your point of view you could see his shirt, which was a black simple t-shirt with an Iron Maiden illustration on it. You wanted to know what he looked like right now, and given from what you could smell of his perfume, he must look nice. 

“Sweets, I need you to cooperate with me here. We talked all week on the phone, I assure you it’s no different than using your voice.” You blinked once and maybe that was the trick. You just have to imagine this is just texting, as if you were reading your messages out loud.

“I-I know that…” The curiosity was killing you at this point, but you wanted to make sure of something first. “Do you work tonight? I didn’t even ask you before…” He was surprised at your question, and he smirked slightly, nodding. Once he realized you still weren’t looking at him, he sighed as he opened his mouth again.

“Yeah, but not till 10 PM. Jason and Billy are on the early shift today.” He explained to you and that is actually a lot of time to talk to him. You didn’t think you would stand being with him, looking at his phone for more than an hour. You felt another presence approaching and you looked up to your side, seeing the waitress coming up.

“Ready to order?” She gave you a small smile and you nodded.

“A beer, please.” She put it down and turned to Eddie, her smile widening as you watched her interact with him. He must really look nice if this woman was smiling like that. Why can't you be like her? Why do you have to be so nervous about it all? You wanted to smile at a cute boy, not barf on him or pass out on the spot.

“Same as her.” Was his short reply. Your gaze went back down towards his phone as the waitress retreated to get your drinks. You wondered how he looked at her. Did he smile? Did he wink? Did he keep a serious face on? “Didn’t take you to be a beer kind of girl.”

“Oh, well, it’s really my drink of choice, but a sweet drink I like too sometimes.” You replied, keeping your gaze on his phone, imagining that everytime he talked to you, a small ‘Ting’ of a notification sounded in your ears.

“I like beer too, but I am more into the bitter kind of stuff.” He replied to you and you now burnt all over because you didn’t know how to keep the conversation flowing. Gladly, the waitress returned quickly with the two bottles of beer opened and ready to drink. You grabbed yours and saw Eddie’s hand wrapping around his own bottle, leaning it towards you. You gulped and clinked your bottle to his.

“To cure your shyness sweetheart.” 

You couldn’t help the small smile that appeared on your lips at that small sweet touch. Giving a cheer for you, even in the short lapse of knowing each other, made your heart calm down just a tiny bit as you took your first sip of the bottle. Eddie caught on the smile you gave and was about to talk when your phone rang.

You looked at the caller and saw it was Robin. Your eyes widened, realizing you didn’t tell her you were already with Eddie. It was kind of a safe protocol, tell her you arrived, tell her he arrived, and keep her updated if you remembered to do so. You had sent her your live location as well, keeping you safe at all times. You declined the call and immediately sent her a message to tell her you were with Eddie already and that everything seemed ok.

Eddie though, was wide eyed, staring at you.

“Was that the flute of The Shire?”

You blinked at your phone and you almost looked up thanks to your surprise. He liked The Lord of The Rings? You weren’t a super fan of it, but the soundtrack had captivated you since you were a kid. 

“I, yes–”

“Holy shit… Look, I only got my little brother to talk this with, and– I just never expected you to like something like that.” He replied, a wide grin on his face. You gulped, a blush on your cheeks. So he has a brother, another small detail of his life.

“I could say the same about you…” He chuckled at that, nodding at the thought.

“Never saw a Stripper being a total nerd?” He replied and you snorted at that, followed by a laugh, covering your mouth with your hand. He was thinking, wondering of a way to get you to look at him. “Is it your favorite movie Saga?”

“Oh, um… No, not really. Harry Potter is my favorite.” He was surprised at that answer, taking a sip of his beer, tapping his finger on the table. He didn’t know much about it, but he never really took the time to watch the movies chronologically. He had an idea of the main story, of course, but never knew the details.

“I like the fifth movie, the one with the hippogriff.” He said and your eyebrows pulled to the center in a frown at that.

“That’s the third movie…” You replied at that and he scratched his head, thinking hard as he tried to remember the small details.

“Really? Then wait, the fifth one is not the one with the snake right?” He tried again and you felt something in your belly, something like annoyance but not quite. 

“You never watched them correctly?” He shrugged at that.

“Never found the time, or cared enough to do so… Plus, the scenery is nothing like The Lord of the Rings.” And Eddie’s eyes immediately widened, his voice gone, and his hand clenching against the bottle in his hand.

“Okay, first of all, the scenery is fucking amazing, the shots are beautiful and they got them in real places and added CGI on them. Then, the soundtrack I admit, is nothing like The Lord of the Rings, but you can’t deny that all of the music in the movies are nostalgic and majestic. Also, the character designs are incredible, outfit wise and then we have all the spells! Everything is magical from the first movie to the last!” You replied to him with exasperation. You knew about Harry Potter, and you weren’t going to let him talk about your favorite thing like that.

“Ah, yes, I am not shaming it sweets, I just prefer the latter. Plus, I never understood that part of the movie where the bad guy returns from a diary? I mean…” He continued, trying to not show his surprise to you so you wouldn’t stop. You took another sip and continued talking.

“That would be the second movie, and it was a figment of a memory implanted in the diary. The diary was part of Voldemort’s soul, a horrocrux which helped him be sort of immortal.” You pressed on, throwing your knowledge at him. 

“Immortal?”

“He has seven horrocruxes in total, so he split his soul in seven parts. You had to destroy all seven in order to finally be able to kill him properly. You have to watch all of the movies in order to understand all of this! Or read all of the books!” You finished your blabbering with almost a pant.

“Sweets.”

“What?” You scoffed out and he chuckled, smiling at you.

“You’ve been talking to me, looking at me in the face, since you started ranting about Harry Potter.”

You froze, realizing that your eyes were looking into his brown ones. His hair was down, over his shoulders, the stubble you saw that day on his chin was gone, freshly shaved, and over his shirt he had a black leather jacket on. His dimples were showing as he smiled at you, and the knot in the stomach was there, it definitely was, urging you to run away.

But it didn’t urge you to look away. 

He squinted slightly as he inspected you. You weren’t looking away, which is a good sign, but you stopped talking all together. He was thinking, licking the inside of his bottom lip as he thought.

“What’s your favorite movie? Not Saga, movie.” He asked and you slightly snapped out of your trance, absorbing the way his mouth moved as he talked to you.

“T-Titanic.” He rolled his eyes at that and you slumped slightly as an angry frown came to your eyebrows again.

“Really? That cliché sweetheart?” Your mouth almost hung open at his words, feeling offended by him saying that about your favorite film.

“It’s a fucking masterpiece!” You replied to him and he sighed, leaning on the table as he took a sip of his beer again, and you followed afterwards to wet your dry throat.

“Indulge me, how is that romantic movie a masterpiece?”

“Well, I am noticing you are not the romantic type of guy, but looking past that, the scenes? The music and ambience are outstanding, and for it being a movie of 1997, it was so amazingly done! Not to mention that James Cameron was the first ever person to get clear images of the actual wreckage.” You replied, taking another sip and he was still looking at you.

He lied to you. He also thought Titanic was a masterpiece. But he came to realize something, but he needed to test something else first, just to make sure that his suspicions were correct.

“So you just said I am not the romantic type of guy… Does that mean you are? I mean, I want to understand right now, but with this thing you got going on… Did you ever… do anything?” He asked you, actually curious about it and you felt the knot in the stomach form once more, the lump in your throat suddenly blocking your voice and you immediately looked down towards his phone again, a deep crimson covering your cheeks.

“It’s… Not that I am a virgin– I don’t…” And Eddie’s head almost made a ‘ding’ sound. It had clicked the moment you stared into his eyes without noticing and you talked about something you liked. 

“I know what’s going on.” He softly muttered, very low but you could hear it, your eyebrows frowning at that. “Also, I didn’t bring my powerpoint presentation, sorry about that, but Black is a color, I mean, I am wearing it all right now.” He was at this again? You looked up at him, completely wide eyed, not believing he was still adamant about black being an actual color.

“Seriously Eddie, you can google it and it will tell you it’s a shade! I took art lessons in school, and the professor was always very strict on not calling white and black colors!” You were looking at him again. He nodded in thought and tapped the table, slumping back against the booth. He was staring at you, deep in his own mind, and you suddenly grew nervous at his stare. “What?”

“I know what’s happening here, in your mind that is.” You blinked in surprise at that, the statement taking you completely off guard.

“What do you mean?”

“Whenever you are confident about something you know, you have no trouble talking to me. You have no trouble talking to me about things you are passionate about, or have experience in.” 

You were dumbfounded. You never thought of something like that happening to you, but now some things clicked inside your head. You didn’t talk with your male coworkers, no… But when a new hire would enter the company and you had to train them? You had no problem. Then when meeting Jonathan, he was attractive, yes… But… you were excited that Nancy is happy with him.

“Holy shit…” You muttered with wide eyes and he nodded at you with a small smile appearing in his lips to then fade away.

“Yeah… But it means that your confidence level is low. Like, confidence in yourself. That’s why you can barely talk sometimes, or you don’t look up to meet my gaze, or well… looked up, past tense.” He smiled at you, and it made your cheeks flush, but still your head was spiraling at his words. 

You weren’t confident in yourself?

“You mean… like my self-esteem?” You asked, and he sighed, giving you a small nod which made your stomach sink.

“I don’t know about your past, and honestly you don’t have to tell me. But maybe we can do some baby steps…” 

“Baby steps?” He took a sip of his beer and nodded, leaning on the table as he put his hand out to start counting with his fingers.

“First, why don’t you wear makeup? Is it because you are allergic or…?” 

“Uh, no… I’m not very good at it.”

“Have you tried tutorials?” You shook your head, a small feeling of shame coming up your throat. “Okay, so that’s step one. Watch some, practice. I am not saying you need makeup, but it helps a lot with your ego. Trust me, when I put on eyeliner I feel like I can conquer the world.” He says with a chuckle and you tilt your head with curiosity pricking at the tip of your tongue.

“You wear makeup?”

“Hell yeah, makes me look pretty.” He smiles at you and you couldn’t help but laugh at his words. You couldn’t believe this man in front of you had a job like the one he has. “Step two, your clothes too.”

“What’s wrong with my clothes?” You say with an offended tone and he just stares at you.

“Seriously? You wear bland colors. Put a little bit of sparkle in it, something you might feel sexy in, or pretty, but you have to feel it. You don’t dress for others, only for yourself.” You tried to remember your closet, and you hated to admit he was right. All your shirts were simple, none of them were tank tops, none of them had nice cuts on the cleavage, or were tight… Your jeans were all the same, and you never wore dresses or skirts, no matter if you really wanted to.

You just never thought you’d look good in them.

Oh fuck… He actually might have found the problem. 

“Third, be confident in your voice. We’re going to slowly work on it, but I think you are headed in the right direction, just not quite.” He replied to you and he watched how your face contorted into confused frowns and then understanding ones as if you were realizing so many things in your head. 

“You mean to be able to, for example… Ask things?” He pointed a finger at you with a smile to his face.

“And there’s the first one. Yes… Till now I was the one engaging in conversations, being in text form or here. I was the one asking you all the questions.” You gave him a nod in understanding, feeling the knot in the stomach not so strongly as before. He is attractive, yes, but he is not making moves, or comments, or anything to put you in a nervous state. The nervousness was still there, and you still struggled to keep eye to eye contact, but you were facing him.

“I see… So, I gotta go shopping then?” You say with a small smile on your face and he chuckles at you, nodding, taking a sip of his beer.

“Remember, dress for you. Not for the other people around you. If you feel confident in it, then it’s all that matters. By confident, I don’t necessarily mean comfortable, but that can also help.” You were staring at him as if you had found a personal god of some sort. This man, this male stripper, was giving you better advice than any therapist ever gave you, than your FRIENDS ever gave you in fact. 

You were grateful for them, but they never understood that you wanted to get better. Instead, they always made sure to make you comfortable whenever you all went out together, always protected you when men approached your group, but never once helped you make the leap of getting better, of trying to be normal like them. They just accepted you the way you are.

But you didn’t want to be accepted like this. Not anymore.

“What is your favorite movie?” You asked him, and his eyes slightly widened at that, surprised by the change of conversation, but it seems you caught on in what you had to do. He smiled and laid back on the booth.

“Okay, what do you think my favorite movie is? Just by looking at me.” He says, flipping his hair over his shoulder and you giggled, as you looked at him. The nerves in your belly started forming again as you scanned his features, but you were trying to fight against it, feeling your heart hammering in your chest.

You didn’t want to say the wrong thing, and you didn’t want to judge him. But he was asking you himself, right? And if you say something wrong it can be directed as a joke, but maybe he doesn’t like it? Maybe he thinks you are throwing yourself on him? WHat if you say something insinuating to him and you didn’t realize it? What would he say–

“You’re thinking too much about it. Stop.” He was looking at you, and you didn’t even notice you went into a sort of trance, trying to think of the words to say. You shook your head, body filling you up in flames, so before you went into a panic, he continued talking. “Just say the first thing that comes to your head. I am not a person that easily gets offended, sweetheart.”

Those words actually made your nerves settle somewhat, and you took a deep breath in to try to make your heart do the same. You inspected him again and he bit the inside of his cheek to hold back a smirk.

“You look like a… The Notebook fan.” You joked, his eyes going wide, a laugh escaping his lips and you couldn’t help but giggle with him, his laugh being contagious, and the tips of your fingers began to feel warmth once again.

“Oh my god, how did you catch me? Am I that obvious?”

End of part 2

A/N: I promise that... things are just gonna heat up from here on out. This was just to prepare you guys for it. (Billy and Steve will make an appearance soon.) I might change the rating on here to Mature, so if you don't have it enabled, please do.

Taglist is open, comment if you want in or send me an ask ;)

Taglist: @katethetank @mynameismothra @emxxblog @steph-speaks @fantasticmacaroni @aysheashea @sweet-villain @sillypurplemurple @eddiemunsonthoughts @emilyslutface @bookshelf-dust @bibieddiesgf @justheretostan

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fics #stranger things #fanfiction #eddie munson smut #eddie munson ff #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #stripper!eddie munson #stripper!eddie #stripper!au #shy #shy!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fandom #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie x you #eddiemunson #eddie x y/n #stranger things eddie #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson fic #fic recs #eddie fanfic #smut #fluff #slow burn #stripper!billy #stripper!steve

[unfinishedslurs]

party king (steddie)

“You want me to what?”

“Go to a party with me,” Eddie says, looking at Steve like he’s the weirdo here. “What’s the big deal, King Steve? You’ve been to plenty of parties.”

“You know, no one actually called me that,” Steve tells him, abandoning his tapes to put his hands on his hips. “Billy started it. I think he just wanted people to call him a king.”

Eddie visibly considers this before nodding, like it makes sense. Which it does. Billy was, in Steve’s private thoughts, an egotistical maniac who needed to calm down.

May he rest in peace.

“But you’ll come to the party with me, right?”

“Give it up, Eddie,” Robin calls from where she’s rewinding tapes. “Steve hasn’t been to a party in forever. He’s basically a grandpa now.”

“Hey!” Steve objects. That’s rich, coming from her. Going to bed at nine some nights so he gets a few more hours of sleep before waking up in a cold sweat does not make him a grandpa. It just makes him traumatized  

“Steeeeeeeve,” Eddie whines, widening his eyes until it looks like they’re going to pop out of his sockets. His exaggerated pout isn't going to do him any favors either. No matter what the kids say behind his back (looking at you, Henderson) he isn't a pushover.

“Why would I want to go to a high school party?” He crosses his arms, leaning against the counter. “I graduated. I have better things to do with my time.”

“Like lose arcade games to freshmen?” Robin asks. He flips her the bird.

“Please, Steve?” Eddie asks. “Pretty please? Pretty pretty please, with cherries and whipped cream and six little nuggets on top?”

“What the hell are you even saying anymore?”

“You want him to eat his babies?” Robin shrieks. “Like Kronos? Is one of them going to cut off his head and free the rest?”

Eddie’s eyes light up, and Steve slaps a hand over his mouth. He doesn’t know who that guy is, and he doesn’t want to deal with the two of them chattering over whatever movie villain he’s assuming is in their weird cult classic films when he still doesn’t know why Eddie is asking him to this party.

He doesn’t even flinch when Eddie licks his hand.

“I’ve been slobbered on by actual monsters,” he says flatly. “Your spit has zero effect on me.”

Eddie bats his eyes and gives his palm a kiss, right where he’d laved his tongue. Steve rolls his eyes and wipes his hand on the side of Eddie’s face.

“Hey!”

“Don’t dish what you can’t take,” Steve says. “Now, why exactly am I getting asked to go to a high school party?”

“Jessica Roberts needs some kush, and she asked me to sell there.”

“Okay? Still not answering my question.”

“There’s gonna be jocks at the party,” Eddie finally confesses, “and I don’t know if they’ll try shit. But given my track record lately…”

“So you need a bodyguard?”

“Hey!” Steve shouts, and is summarily ignored by everyone. So he does what any normal person would do, and slams an abandoned beer bottle against the edge of the counter so it shatters. 

The jocks turn and look at him after that.

Steve glances down at the jagged edges of the bottle in his hands, flipping it like it’s his old ice cream scoop. Yeah, this should work. 

“Leave him alone,” he says, steely inflection to his voice. 

“Or what, Harrington?” One of them asks. “Heard you just been sittin’ in this room all night. What, you hanging around the queers now? Didn’t take you for a f-”

He stops talking when Steve grabs him by the hair and presses the broken bottle against his throat.

“Here’s what's gonna happen,” he says quietly, taking a look at his buddy. He’s let go of Eddie, a lot more spooked now that his friend is shaking in his Nike’s. “You’re going to leave this room. You’re going to leave Munson here alone. You’re not going to bother him, or anyone else in his dragon club ever again. If I hear that you or your little friends are fucking with him, I have a very nice nail-studded baseball bat in my trunk I’d be more than happy to introduce you to. Capisce?”

“Woah, woah, woah,” the guy that was holding Eddie says. “What the hell, Harrington?”

Steve doesn’t break eye contact with the guy he’s threatening. “Capisce?” He asks again, putting a little more force into the word.

“C-capisce.”

“Good,” he says, shoving him away. “Now get outta here.”

They scramble away. Steve walks over to the trash can and throws away the remains of the bottle, running a hand through his hair. He finally turns around to see Eddie staring at him with wide eyes, frozen.

“Sorry-”

“Fuck me.”

“What?”

Eddie’s entire face flushes, like he didn’t mean to say that. “Uh.”

Steve looks at him, and then around the kitchen they’re in. Glass and beer on the floor, music blasting loud enough to set him on edge, a crowd of people that look at him like a zoo exhibit. Fuck, his head hurts. 

“Yeah, okay,” he decides. “We’re going to mine, though.”

“Wh-what?” Eddie looks like a deer in headlights, even though Steve’s offering exactly what he asked. 

“I…have no idea what I’m doing,” Eddie confesses. 

“Oh, are you not…” He trails off, gesturing towards Eddie’s back pocket. “I assumed…”

Eddie laughs abruptly, slapping a hand over his mouth like he startled himself with it. “You know hanky code, Harrington?”

“Can you call me Steve when you’re in my bed?” He’s already got his shirt off, for God’s sake. “Listen, man, if you don’t want this, it’s no biggie.” He starts to get off, and Eddie’s hand clamps over his thigh. 

“No, no, no, don’t you dare. Just gimme a minute, I’m processing.”

“Processing,” he repeats flatly. 

“Yes, processing. I’ve got the guy of my extremely virginal wet dreams shirtless on top of me. I did not think this would ever happen. I didn’t even know you were queer until tonight.”

Steve’s mouth shapes into an “o” of understanding. “You’re a virgin?”

“Jesus, could you focus on anything else I said?”

“You dream about me?”

“Let’s go back to the virgin part.” His fingers start nervously tapping against Steve’s leg. 

“You’re not subtle,” Steve says flatly. “I know when you stare at my ass.”

Eddie colors in a flood of bright red. “What if I wasn’t? What if I was…uh, jealous or something?”

“I guess that’d make sense, since you’re flat as a board.”

“Wh—hey!”

#party king au #stranger things fanfic #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve being unhinged is so fun #furthering my 'eddie has a flat ass' agenda one fic at a time #honestly i don't think steve is UNpopular after s1-2 like i feel like he'd exist in this weird space #where everyone likes him but he has no friends outside the party #and maybe he went to a couple of parties post s3 with robin but they got bored and bailed

[steddiealltheway]

Steve can see it in Max. That same loneliness and ache that he finds in himself. For him, it’s result of his parents leaving with no intent to return to him unless absolutely necessary.

He knows he was an accident. Or rather a mistake as his father used to call him when he was particularly angry. But it made sense to him. Steve's the reason his father had to marry his mother. He left him "trapped." And maybe no one says it out loud, but he can tell his mother feels the same way too.

But they must keep up appearances, right?

Which is what Max has been trying to do since Billy died, El moved away, and it's been just her and her mom. But she's been going about it through a different route - pushing people away all while pretending things are fine. But Steve sees the way she picks up the broken pieces of her mom and tries to put them back together - Steve's had to do the same thing before.

So, he starts sticking around a little longer. Offering her more rides to the arcade and around town to pick up groceries when she needs to. Sometimes he'll tell her about a new recipe he's been trying for a casserole and pick up the ingredients, pretending like the milk and butter he bought will spoil by the time he drives home from her trailer.

Of course, they both know it's a lie, but Max humors him and plays along. She'll let him cook dinner while she picks up the bottles her mom left on the floor, dumps out the overflowing ashtray, and feeds the dog. Usually, Steve will ask her what she's learning in school and linger a little longer than usual in hopes that she'll say more than the usual, "I don't know. A bunch of boring stuff."

But lingering has gotten a lot of things out of Max such as her love for Kate Bush, a story about El and how much she misses her, and short quips about Lucas before she gets a sad smile on her face. Steve doesn't really know what to say most of the time, but he hopes that just being there will help.

Unfortunately, lingering and just being there has led him to his current predicament of none other than Eddie "The Freak" Munson sitting on the hood of his car glaring at him as he walks out of Max's place. Steve jumps a little, startled by the figure on his car and becoming more hostile as he sees the expression on his face. He shoves his hands in his pockets and slows his pace. "Is there a problem?"

Eddie snorts humorlessly. "Christ. You're really going to pretend like there's nothing wrong with what's happening?"

Steve's brows furrow, entirely missing whatever point he's trying to make.

Eddie stands up and stalks toward him. "I see you, you know. Always lurking around when her mom isn't home. Coming out of her trailer late at night."

Steve laughs, finally understanding the absurd conclusion he's come to. "Jesus, man. You're delusional."

Steve doesn't expect it, but Eddie sharply shoves his chest and grits, "I don't fucking lie to me, Harrington."

Steve holds his hands up. "I'm not," he firmly states. "Nothing like that is happening here. I'm glad you're looking out for her, but it isn't like that."

"Do you expect me to believe that? Maybe this is why you're always hanging around Henderson and the other kids."

Steve crosses his arms and his jaw tenses. "I'm not a fucking pervert or a pedophile if that's what you're trying to say. I'm just looking after them."

"Why?" Eddie asks, dramatically opening his arms, "Why would King Steve adopt a group of misfits to take under his wing? See, the math isn't adding up."

Usually, Steve would just brush it off and tell the person to fuck off and mind their own business. But his parents have just left town again without leaving a note and Max had snapped when Steve tried to help her clean the place because it looked worse than usual, and he was just generally feeling like shit and angry at his parents and Max's parents for not being there. So he broke, "Because I don't want Max to end up like me! I don't want any of those kids to grow up without a role model. And god forbid if any of those other kids' parents fuck up, and they’re left with only me. I need them to know that I'm there for them! Because sometimes it feels like whenever the world goes to shit, I'm the only one who is there, and I plan to stay there, okay?!"

He finishes his rant breathing a little heavier than usual and noticing that a few of the lights in the trailers have turned on around them. He looks around and awkwardly nods to the people glaring out their windows. God, he needs to get a grip.

When he turns back to Eddie, he notices the conflicted expression, jaw dropped, eyebrows knitted together, eyes searching him as if he's still wondering if he's lying.

A door creaks open behind them and Steve curses under his breath as he hears Max say, "Eddie, leave him alone. Do you really think I would hook up with my damn babysitter? Jeez."

"Language," Steve quietly lectures as the door swings shut. He runs his hands over his face and takes a deep breath. It's been a long fucking day.

A hand lands on his arm and tugs him away from Max's trailer. Steve glances up at Eddie, leading him across the way. "Where are we going?"

"My place," Eddie says.

"Why?"

"So we can talk."

God, the last thing he wants to do is talk to Eddie of all people, the guy he's been actively avoiding since Dustin started worshipping the ground - or rather tables - he walks on. But he lets himself be pulled away in the trailer and practically deposited on the couch in the living room.

He glances up and comments, "That's a lot of mugs."

"My uncle's, but that's not what I wanted to... Christ," Eddie says, pacing in front of Steve and tugging his hair in front of his face. The anxious display makes Steve feel even more tired, but he lets him pace. God, what is he even doing here?

"I'm sorry," Eddie blurts out. "I'm just..." he trails off and rushes over to grab a stool a few feet away before dragging it in front of the couch. He sits on it but his leg still holds that nervous energy as it rapidly bounces up and down. "I jumped to conclusions, and it was really shitty of me, man. I just... didn't believe what Henderson was saying about you and thought 'Oh, this makes way more sense than Steve Harrington being a good dude.' And I'm sorry to accuse you of that. And I... I didn't know about your... parents and stuff. Like I knew they were away a lot because of your parties but... I just never connected the dots. And I'm sorry. No one deserves that shit, man."

Steve doesn't know what to do this whole interaction, especially with it coming from Eddie Munson who he doesn't think he's ever talked to before this moment, but... he needs to hear it. God, he needs to hear it.

Of course, he can't let him know this, so he does what he's best at and brushes it off. "It's fine. You were just looking out for the kids. And really just ignore what I said back there, it isn't that big of a deal."

Eddie worries his bottom lip before he blurts out, "I know what it's like." He pauses and takes a deep breath. "I mean, I know what it's like to have... absent parents. But in my case, eventually, my uncle Wayne took me in, and I can only imagine if he didn't." He gives him a pointed look and lowers his voice, "Do you have someone like that?"

A big part of Steve wants to leave right now, and he knows there's nothing stopping him. But a bigger part of him needs to stay. Needs to talk about the emptiness in his house that he can never truly escape at the end of the day that he can’t talk to anyone about. Because he's not supposed to be weak. He's supposed to take care of the others. So he admits, "No, I don't have... anyone like that. Except Robin but..."

"That's different," Eddie finishes the thought for him.

Steve nods. He loves Robin, but he loves her as a platonic soulmate and not as a parent figure in his life. "You know, I once had this basketball coach in middle school - Mr. Weston. And I remember looking up to him so much. I wanted to be just like him, and I would go to his office during lunch and ask him for advice or talk about dumb shit that my father would never talk about. But he never shamed me for my questions. And sometimes he even packed an extra dessert for me." Steve smiles at the memories and runs a hand through his hair, remembering the day he got the news. "But one time, when I went to his office, he had this look on his face. And I just knew it was bad news. And really, it wasn't bad news to him because his wife was pregnant. But she wanted to move a few states away to raise the kid closer to her family. And it wasn't his fault, you know? It wasn't like he purposely chose to move away from me, but I felt like I was abandoned again."

Steve wipes a tear from his eye and puts his head in his hands. "God, I don't know why I'm even telling you this story. Sorry."

"Don't apologize," Eddie says quickly. He pauses and shifts on the stool, his gaze being far away. "I remember him. He was one of the only gym teachers that defended me against all the shitty middle school bullies. He was a good person.”

Steve nods. God, he was a good person.

Eddie continues, “I'm sorry that he left. And I bet he still regrets leaving you behind."

Steve leans back against the couch and looks away, shaking his head. "I bet he forgot about me."

"You're kind of hard to forget."

Steve looks at Eddie and sees a slight blush on his cheeks as he shakes his head and waves his hands as if trying to make the comment go away. "What I mean is that there's no way he's forgotten about you. Someone who you used to have lunch with all the time to the point of giving you free food... Nah, man. He remembers you. I think you may have been as important to him as he was to you."

The thought breaks away at a wall Steve had built up long ago. "Thanks," he practically whispers.

Eddie just smiles at him, small dimples appearing on his cheeks.

"You didn't deserve it either, you know," Steve says. "The absent parent stuff. Even with Wayne, they should've been here too."

Eddie's smile falters a bit as he swallows and looks at the ground. "Thanks," he mumbles. He looks up at Steve and comments, "Getting sappy with Steve Harrington. Who knew."

"Yeah, getting sappy with Eddie Munson," Steve echoes back at him.

Eddie laughs, "I'm surprised you even know my name."

"You're kind of hard to forget," Steve says easily.

That same blush comes back to Eddie who shifts in his chair a bit as if he needs to process the information with his whole body.

They sit in the moment for a bit before Eddie gets a somewhat serious look on his face and offers, "You know, I'm definitely not a parent figure or anything, but I'm always here and around to talk about that whole thing if you need to."

Steve's heart beats a little faster at the sheer genuineness. "Same here," he can't help but offer in return. He glances down at his watch and sighs, "It's getting late, so I better..."

"Right," Eddie says, standing up and leading him to the door. "Do you need water for the road or anything?"

Steve smiles and pats him on the back without thinking too hard about it. "I'm good, man. But thank you. For everything really."

"Sorry for being an asshole," Eddie apologizes again.

"Usually that's my line," Steve accidentally voices before cringing a bit, wondering further why Eddie's been so kind to him.

But as he opens the door, Eddie comments, "I don't know. It seems like Dustin was right about the whole reformed jock thing. Maybe your crown really has fallen - which is a good thing by the way."

Steve slightly smiles at him before he turns to leave. But he can't help but say, "I wonder what the neighbors will think about me leaving your trailer so late."

Eddie groans then laughs. "Sorry to ruin your image."

"I wouldn't mind," Steve replies, honestly unsure what he means by that. "Goodnight, Eddie."

"Goodnight, Steve," Eddie says, that same blush on his cheeks, only this time Steve isn't sure if it's something he said or a result of the cold night air.

In bed that night, Steve feels a slight weight lifted from him and can't help but feel like he’s a little less alone.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie ficlet #leave it to Eddie to tell Steve the things he needs to hear #sometimes it just shakes me to the core when I realize how alike they are #like yes. they absolutely have their differences #but at the core they have similar experiences that they need to process #and really I think they need each other #because they’re both so willing to die for others and see the worth in everyone but themselves #but put them together and that worth goes back and forth #I just see them learning a lot from each other #and it’s a really beautiful thing #ANYWAYS #hi guys. thanks for sticking through that massive tag rant thing 💛