#pe teacher steve harrington
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The note shows up in Eddie's mailbox cubby on Valentine's Day.
It's nothing fancy, loopy cursive handwriting on lined paper:
"I know this is probably silly but I can't go another day without saying it, and today seems appropriate for this kind of confession. Seeing you in the morning is the best part of my day. You're so gorgeous it leaves me breathless. I hope you don't mind if I don't leave my name. Just wanted you to know that you're beautiful."
His eyes fill with tears that he blinks back, a goofy smile stretching his mouth wide.
"You good there, Munson?" Robin Buckley asks.
"Oh, yup, yeah, all good." He laughs. "Just got one of those 'you're my favorite teacher Mr. Munson!' notes."
He squeezes the letter to his chest before slipping it in his pocket.
---
The worst thing about Eddie's new job is that someway, somehow, Steve-fucking-Harrington works here too. PE teacher, JV basketball coach, of-fucking-course. Once a douchebag jock, always a douchebag jock. What makes it all worse is that he's still the prettiest guy Eddie's ever seen.
---
The first week of March, there's a commotion in the hallway that has him rushing out of his room, ready to breakup a fight. He finds Harrington already there, holding Dustin Henderson and Will Byers by their shoulders. Troy Walsh and James Dante stand across from them, wearing matching snarls.
Of course Harrington is picking on little nerd kids; he knew it. But before he steps forwards to break it up, Steve speaks, voice low and angry. "You want to tell me what happened here, Troy?"
"Byers tripped. He really should watch where he's going," Troy says. James laughs.
Steve's glare goes even more icy, more disdainful (it's so fucking hot, Eddie hates it). "You want to take that again? And try being honest this time, or you're suspend from the team."
Troy splutters for long enough that Eddie finally notices Will's stricken face, the sketchpad and snapped colored pencils littering the linoleum.
"I saw you take those things from Will, and unfortunately, I'll have to call your parents and you will be responsible for purchasing a new sketchbook and pencils. You're also benched for the next four games."
The boys shout, but when Steve raises a hand they quiet immediately. "You want to complain more, or do you want it to be five games?"
"No, sir," they answer before scampering off.
Harrington faces Dustin and Will. "You boys okay?" he asks them.
"We're good, Mr. H," Dustin answers.
"Glad to hear it." Steve begins collecting Will's ruined belongings, stops to study one of the drawings.
"This is really good, Will."
Will flushes. "Thanks. It's my character for dnd,"
"Dnd? That's that game that El and Max are always talking about? With the character sheets and the dice?"
"Yeah!" says Dustin. "You know it?"
Steve's smile is a little bashful, and it tugs at Eddie's heart in a way he has to ignore. "Not much. Just from what the girls have said. You want to tell me about it?"
"Really?" Their eyes light up.
"Really. You can stop by the gym during lunch. Only if you want to, though."
"Cool," says Dustin.
He pats them both on the shoulder, and they hurry away, leaving Steve and Eddie suddenly alone.
Eddie should head back to his class, hasn't been needed in this situation at all, really, but before he can disappear, Steve spots him and his eyes widen.
"You need something, Munson?" Steve's cheeks go a faint pink.
He shakes his head, feels wrong-footed. "Uh, that was really cool what you did just there."
"They're really good kids," Steve says. "I know them a little. Used to babysit El Hopper." He slides his hands into the pockets of his khakis and, seriously, fuck Harrington for looking like that in a pair of Dockers.
"Babysitter, Harrington? Never thought I'd see the day. Or that you'd be the one defending a bunch of nerds," Eddie says. He means it teasing, but Steve's face warps into a frown.
"Y--yeah, I guess. I mean. I'm trying not to be that guy anymore, and Robin's really helped--"
"Shit, man, I'm sorry. That's not what I meant, at all--"
"--I feel terrible about all that shit I pulled back in school. That King Steve stuff? I was awful and you didn't deserve--"
"Steve!" Eddie cuts him off. "I forgive you. For everything." He looks down at his shoes. "For all I didn't want to believe it, you really have changed."
They're both pink faced now, avoiding each other's eyes. "Thanks," Steve says. "I should get going, but--for the future-- I really wouldn't mind--um--trying to be friends."
The grin that passes across Eddie's face is huge. "Yeah, Harrington, I'd like that."
Eddie has to run to make it to his classroom on time. He passes Dustin and Will and the rest of their gaggle of friends, rushing them along, but forgets all about it as he steps in front of his third period juniors.
---
He and Steve are...friendly now. They chat, they joke, they share smiles that have Eddie's heart beating too fast even though it's not like that. Turns out Steve is kind and funny (a little bit of a bitch too, but in a way that ties Eddie's stomach in knots), and a hell of a teacher.
---
His freshman are in small groups, peer-reviewing an essays, when Max Mayfield catches his eye. She's one of his favorite students and absolute trouble.
"What's up, Mayfield." He asks.
"Are you friends with Mr. Harrington?" She asks.
He chuckles. "Sure, Max, we're friendly enough. Why?"
She narrows her eyes, like she knows he's not being totally honest. "Oh, nothing. He just talks about you all the time."
He's blushing horribly and Max, and all of her friends, smirk up at him. "He does?" He chokes out.
"Mmhmm," Lucas Sinclair says. "Says he thinks you're really cool."
"Definitely one of the best teachers here," Mike Wheeler adds.
Eddie rolls his eyes. "Okay, very funny, guys. How're your essays going?"
They answer, but before Eddie goes to help another group, Will says, "he really does like you, Mr. Munson. A lot."
El nods earnestly up at him. "It is true," she says. "I know him."
"Thanks, kids. I'll keep that in mind." He gives them a smile, tries not to let their words get to him. When he reaches the next group, though, he notices his hands are shaking.
---
Gifts start turning up in Eddie's cubby. It starts with a bag of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies from his favorite bakery. There's a small note that says "from your secret admirer," on the packaging. Every two weeks or so, something new shows up in his little mailbox; a woven friendship bracelet, a yellow rose, Hershey kisses, a delicately painted dnd figure that gives Eddie a small crisis because it's his own bard character, an Iron Maiden cassette, a bag of dice that almost brings him to genuine tears.
Eventually, he gets another note. This one is typed and reads: "I would love to have coffee with you 11am this Saturday at the Cafe on Main Street."
---
He walks into the cafe at 10:50am, wearing his favorite pair of ripped black jeans and a burgundy button-down, his hair pulled into a loose bun. He doesn't recognize anyone there.
Eddie gets in line, studies the menu, and the little bell above the door rings. He whips towards the sound to find none other than Steve Harrington in little wire rim glasses, a butter colored sweater, and jeans the man must have painted on, Jesus Christ. Honestly, the whole thing is enough to give Eddie a coronary (and to, embarrassingly, chub up in his own tight jeans).
"Steve?" He asks. He's overwhelmed with the (stupid, stupid) hope that it's been Harrington all along. "What are you doing here?"
"Henderson asked me to meet him. He around?"
"Uh, no?" Eddie feels heat creeping up his throat.
Steve shakes his head, as though he expected as much. "You alone? We could grab drink."
"I can't believe this." Eddie hides his face in his hands, knows it's gone horrifyingly crimson.
"What's wrong?"
"My secret admirer told me to be here now, so we could meet," Eddie's misery slices through his words. "I'm such an idiot."
"I--your--what?" Steve stammers.
He gathers himself enough to look Steve in his hazel eyes and ask, "I'm assuming it wasn't you leaving notes and gifts for me at work?"
And he expects Steve to say no. To laugh and ask why he'd ever do something like that, but instead, instead he flushes a deep red. "O-only one note."
"What?"
"I, uh," Steve clears his throat. "I left you a note. On Valentine's Day. I--we weren't friends yet, and I wanted you to know how much I liked you. It's --uh--it's pretty silly, huh? Robin's--"
"Steve," Eddie interrupts. He's going to tell Steve that he reads the note often enough that he has parts memorized; that it's the kindest thing anyone has done for him, but what he says instead is, "Dustin Henderson told you to meet him here at 11?"
"Yeah. Said he had something to show me."
Eddie remembers running into Will and Dustin and their friends that day in the hall, the weird conversation in class, the dice and the miniature. Something must click for Steve at the same time because his mouth drops, blush getting somehow deeper.
"Oh my god. Henderson! I'm gonna kill him. They figured out I had a crush on you."
"They WHAT?" Eddie says, loud enough that several looks are aimed their way.
"I'm so, so sorry, Eddie. Holy shit, this is so humiliating. You have to believe me, I had no idea they were doing this. God, I'm really starting to think it is possible to die from embarrassment."
"You have a crush on me," Eddie says instead of any of the dozens of helpful things he could say.
"Um. Yes?"
Eddie takes a deep breath, straightens his spine, and asks, "You wanna have coffee with me?"
"I'd really like that." Steve's return smile is so beautiful, it makes Eddie weak.
---
Eddie Munson is making out with Steve Harrington in the backseat of Steve's BMW. He and Steve spent the day together. They've kissed for so long that the sun has set, both of their lips are swollen, their skin red from stubble, and Eddie is nowhere near ready for the night to end.
Steve breaks away, gently pulling their mouths apart, but arms still tight around Eddie. "Hey, what kind of gifts were they giving you anyway? The kids?"
"Oh," Eddie blushes. "Uh, cookies, a dnd mini, lots of candy, a set of dice."
"Oh my god," Steve says, he pulls a little more away. "Oh my god, I'm going to kill her, Jesus Christ."
"Who are are you killing, sweetheart?"
Steve groans. "Robin. She was helping them. We found a set of dice at this little bookstore and she told me to get them for you, and--" he breaks off with a helpless, frustrated noise.
Eddie doesn't mean to, but he starts to giggle.
"It's not funny!" Steve says.
That only makes Eddie laugh harder. "Your best friend," he squeaks. "And a group of literal children set us up. That's hilarious, Harrington."
Steve's mouth drops and for a second Eddie thinks he'll be upset, but then he's giggling too, his whole face crumpling into it.
Steve pulls Eddie close once the laughter subsides, his eyes trained on Eddie's lips.
"We could pretend we didn't get together," Eddie manages to say.
"What, like, make them think they failed?"
"Yeah. We could tell them I got stood up, but you and I hung out. Had a bro day."
Steve giggles again, and it's the best sound Eddie's ever heard. "I'm absolutely on board with this plan, but you should definitely kiss me some more."
"Oh, yeah?" Eddie asks, his voice low. "And what'll I get out of it?"
"Why don't you get over here and see."
As if Eddie could turn down an invite that enticing. He slides a hand behind Steve's head, drawing him in, and they're kissing like they never stopped. It only been a few hours, but Eddie knows--without a doubt--he's already head over heels.
#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#ficlet#oneshot#fluff#mutual pining#matchmaking#secret admirers#pe teacher steve harrington#english teacher eddie munson#kinda doing a parent trap thing#in which robin and the party parent trap eddie and steve#it's also the part of clueless where they do matchmaking with the teachers#first date#the party#robin buckley#platonic soulmates#rough winds do shake the darling buds of may but thy eternal summer shall not fade#phat did you write that
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You Better Make It Soon (Before You Break My Heart)
Monday mornings are the bane of Steve Harrington’s existence. His alarm clock was blaring when he woke up. It read 6:32 on the clock and Steve groaned as he sat up in his bed. Steve was in the middle of brushing his teeth when he heard Dustin’s alarm going off, and a few minutes later he heard Max’s. The twins insisted on having their own alarm clocks, saying having their dad wake them up for school in the sixth grade was embarrassing. Steve couldn’t lie, he got a bit too emotional about alarm clocks that day.
While they may have grown out of Steve waking them up every day, they certainly haven't grown out of him making them breakfast and packing their lunches. Dustin gets 2 eggs, scrambled, and a slice of toast with grape jelly, for lunch it's a ham and cheese sandwich with a baggy of lays and a green apple. Max gets 2 eggs sunny side up, and 2 pieces of toast with butter, and lunch is a pb&j with strawberry jelly, a baggy of Fritos, and a banana. It's been this way since they could eat actual food.
Steve could tell you every single thing about these kids. And to some parents, he was way too involved. He went to every science fair, school recital, and kiddie soccer games. To him, that was the bare minimum. As a kid, his parents never showed up for anything, always out of town on business. It didn’t matter now, he had cut contact with them the second he got the phone call from the hospital. That was the day he learned Jane was one, pregnant, and two left him the kids.
Jane was his second girlfriend in high school, they had only been together for 6 months, but that was enough. Last he heard about her, she was somewhere in Nevada with a sparkly new family. Steve didn’t care that she had a new boyfriend, or husband, he cared that she had new kids, and never once bothered to check in on Max or Dustin.
Steve was scared shitless driving to the hospital, Robin in the passenger seat. She read from a book of 100 baby names, going down the list. No names that start with J, B, or W was the only rule, “I’m not letting you give these beautiful new humans terrible names Steve, they're already having to deal with the legacy that is ‘King Steve’ at least let them have actually good names.”
He was grateful for Robin. She knew just how to distract him and focus on the good parts of the situation, rather than the terrible ones. In the end, they settled on Maxine and Dustin. So by the time they drove the two-hour trip to Indianapolis, they had at least the names ready, maybe not a crib, or food, or clothes, or dippers, but they had names. And at the time, that was a win in Steve’s book.
Dustin was the first down the stairs. He almost falls on the last few steps.
Steve had to hold in a laugh, “Hey Dust buddy, I need you to slow down on the steps, you have enough trouble keeping your teeth in, I don't need you knocking extra ones out.”
The curly-headed boy sits down in his usual spot at the table, “That's a low blow Dad. And I'm sorry, you should be happy to have a kid that's excited for the first day of school. You know I could be out smoking crack or something! Instead, I'm going down the stairs a bit too excitedly. Count your blessings.”
“That was far too much for seven in the morning,” Max says walking in.
She had he hair back in a ponytail at the base of her neck. Steve knows she hates her hair in her face, she usually asks him to braid it, but apparently, she's grown out of that too.
“Alright gremlins eat up fast,” he sets down their plates in front of them, “can't be late for your first day.”
If you ever wanted to experience the different levels of hell, school drop-off was the 7th. It's like grown adults lose all knowledge of driving the second they enter the parking lot. Steve worked at the high school right next to the middle school and grade school, he always parks in the staff parking and walks the kiddos to school. Unfortunately for him, however, was that the only entrance to the staff parking was only accessible through the middle school drop-off. At least the last two years and this next year he’ll actually have middle schoolers to drop off.
The middle school had a poster hanging up front “Class of 86’ is our year!”
Before he could even put the car in park the kids start to open the doors, “Hey, hey, hey,” they pause their movements, “First don't open doors on moving cars, don’t be reckless. Second, no getting out of the car before I hear those three magical words.”
“Do we have to?” Dustin asks from the back.
“Love you, Dad,” Max says at the same time.
Steve leans over to the passenger seat and gives Max a kiss on the forehead, “And that's why you get shotgun.”
Max unlocks her door and off to the school doors. He hears Dustin unlock the doors in the back, but Steve hits the lock button. Dustin tries again, and Steve locks it.
The boy sighs, “Love you, Dad.”
“Love you too Dust Buddy.”
Finally, Dustin leaves the car and practically sprints to the school. Steve drove off, finally making it to the staff parking.
He got a job as a PE and health teacher a few years after graduating high school. Technically he was a volunteer for the first 4 years. They couldn’t hire him as a teacher without a degree. So the school offered to give him the job if he took classes at Hawkins Community College. And for four years, Steve worked at the school during the day and took classes at night. The kids were in daycare for the day, and Robin came over every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday to watch the kids. Steve offered to pay her, but she refused any money.
“As long as I can raid your fridge, and watch late-night cable, you can call it even Harrington.”
Some days he was so exhausted that he wouldn't even make it to his bed, just crash on the couch. By the time he graduated with his degree, the kids were graduating from kindergarten.
And now look at them. A single dad who barely made it through high school, now a high school teacher with two straight-A kids.
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#steddie#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve and eddie#single dad steve#soft steddie#steve is a pe teacher#eddie is an english teacher#both had fat gay crushed on each other in high school#robin being an icon the whole time#steve is a great dad is makes me sob#let the be domestic together and live happily ever after
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i am Here. to push my gym teacher!steve agenda.
#LIKE IM SORRY BUT PE TEACHER IS HIS DESTINED CAREER#WHY HAS NO ONE ADMITTED THIS#i will be back to give my thoughts later. or maybe not.#but i am true#right i meant i am right#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#stranger things
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Me realizing that Eddie would still have physical therapy after he gets out of the hospital, and since Hawkins is in desperate need of volunteers it makes sense that they'd hire Junior PT staff to help out with all of the people moving through the system.
Which means it's all too possible that Eddie Munson, the only person to skip PE as a personal challenge and already prepared to give his glorified gym teacher hell, could very well show up on the first day to an elderly woman in a cardigan smiling up at him saying, "You'll be working with someone your own age! Isn't that nice?"
And then Steve Harrington in all his crop top booty shorted glory strides out with a shit eating grin. "Ready to get sweaty, Eddie!"
(Wayne claps him on the back too hard before he goes. "Have fun," he says, as if everyone in the center didn't see him waggling his eyebrows under his dumb novelty baseball hat.)
Yes this is called the Physical Therapist AU and yes I do love it so much.
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Unsmooth Operator
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Femme!Reader
Summary: It’s summer in Hawkins and Eddie finds himself caught up on the cute girl working at the record store in the mall
Warnings: Reader uses she/her pronouns, brief mentions of sexual content (nothing sexual actually happens), swearing, potentially lethal levels of adorableness
A/N: First of all, sorry it’s been so long since I posted my last fic. My poor little ADHD self is a slow writer, I’m afraid. But anyway, I kind of wrote this as a sort of prequel to my Henderson!Reader fic, but there’s no direct mention of Reader being related to anyone, so you can either read it as that or not. Also, special thanks to Mr. Joseph Quinn for confirming that Eddie Munson has no game.
My Master List | Ao3
-
It’s June in Hawkins and the summer heat has already grown practically unbearable. The shitty window A/C unit Eddie’s been using has finally crapped out, and in the heat of the day the trailer is approximately the temperature of the sun. Mercifully, he’s found a sweet, air conditioned refuge in the newly built Starcourt mall, a temple to 20th century decadence and consumerism that also happens to be a very pleasant temperature inside.
Jeff and Gareth are tagging along today, which is fun except for the quick pit stop they had to make at the homegoods store so Gareth could pick up some new linens for his mom. They’ve finished that now, though, and Eddie’s already got their next destination in mind.
“I’m gonna do it”, Gareth insists as they go, “I’m gonna get a tattoo.”
“Your mom would kill you”, Jeff replies.”remember when she caught you smoking? I thought she wasn’t going to let us see you ever again after that.”
“It’s different now”, Gareth tells him, “I’m 16. I’m gonna be a junior. It’s time I make my own choices, you know?”
“Good luck with that”, Jeff laughs.
“Let’s hit the record store next”, Eddie cuts in, “I want to pick up the new Bob Dylan album for Wayne.”
“More like you wanna see the cute girl working the register”, Jeff teases.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about”, Eddie retorts, desperately hoping his cheeks aren’t actually turning as red as he thinks they are.
In truth, he does have an ulterior motive for wanting to go to the record store, and it is you. You’ve been going to Hawkins High for the past three years, but admittedly Eddie had never really been more than vaguely aware of your existence until this past semester, when you two had PE together. He had this routine he’d do where he would imitate the gym teacher when the man wasn’t looking, and it never failed to elicit a giggle from you. One day Eddie noticed how cute you looked when you laughed and well, he’s been a little bit stuck on you ever since.
“Why don’t you just ask her out?” Gareth comments, as if it’s just that easy.
Sweet, naive Gareth. Maybe for guys like Steve Harrington it’s that easy, but Eddie isn’t Steve Harrington. Gareth wasn’t there for Eddie’s early high school days. He wasn’t there during Eddie’s sophomore year when two hot juniors decided to prank him by convincing him their cheerleader friend was “super into him” or his junior year when he invited that girl from drama club to join Hellfire and she laughed out loud at him. Most girls don’t even want to be seen with Eddie “the Freak” Munson, let alone date him.
“Jeff’s talking out of his ass”, Eddie lies, “come on, let’s go.”
You are, of course, there at the counter when they walk in, and oh God, is that an Iron Maiden shirt you’re wearing? Fuck, as if he couldn’t be more into you.
“Um, Eddie, you good dude?” Gareth asks him and he realizes he’s stopped right there in the entrance of the store, just staring at you. He quickly turns away and walks the rest of the way into the store, thankful that you’re currently checking out a customer and probably didn’t notice him ogling you like a total weirdo.
Admittedly, this may not have been a good idea, at least if he wants to convince Jeff and Gareth he’s not into you. He quickly grabs a Bob Dylan tape and starts making for the door, desperate to just get out of there and spare himself anymore humiliation.
“Um, you gonna pay for that?” Jeff asks and fuck. He’s shoplifted before but he’s not interested in getting barred from the record store, so he’s not gonna risk it today.
“Right”, he mutters and then he forces himself to go up to the counter.
He feels like his heart is going to explode in his chest when he walks up and you flash him that brilliant smile of yours.
“Hi, Eddie”, you greet and his eyes grow wide because you know his name. Well, obviously you did, you had a class together, but it just sounds so good coming from your mouth that he momentarily ceases to function.
“Did you need help with something?” you ask after a moment.
“What?” Eddie asks, “oh no. Just um, just this.”
He sets the tape on the counter and you grab it to ring it up.
“Dylan”, you comment as you do, “not your usual fare.”
“It’s for my uncle”, Eddie explains, “he’s a big fan.”
“Cool”, you say, “I like your vest by the way. Dio. Nice.”
Well, that’s it. It’s over. Eddie’s done for.
“That’ll be $6.30”, you say.
“Oh, right money”, Eddie sputters and fishes a ten out of his pocket. He knows Jeff and Gareth are standing nearby, watching this all play out and probably laughing with each other about it. He’s definitely never living this down.
“You want a bag”, you ask as you finish gathering his change.
“Oh, I um, I guess”, he replies, not actually processing the question. You hand him his change, then place the tape in a bag and slide it over to him. He goes to grab it, and because he’s not at all paying attention to anything but you, inadvertently sends the display of Beach Boy tapes sitting on the counter tumbling to the floor.
“Oh shit”, he hisses, “oh fuck, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay”, you reply, coming around the counter, “I keep telling Doug he shouldn’t put that stuff so close to the register.”
You bend down to start picking up the tapes and years worth of Wayne’s lectures on behaving like a gentleman come flooding back to Eddie, so he quickly follows suit.
“Let me help you”, he says.
“Thanks”, you say and you’re smiling again and Eddie kind of wants to die.
With the two of you, it doesn’t take long to get everything cleaned up and back in order.
“I’m really sorry”, Eddie says again as you make your way back behind the counter, and then before he can stop himself, he blurts, “maybe I could make it up to you somehow?”
“What?” you ask, clearly unsure of what he means.
“I mean like, maybe I could buy you a-a coffee or something sometime”, he stammers.
You peer at him for a moment, and he braces for the inevitable rejection he’s about to endure.
“I like ice cream”, you say, “if you meet me here at 3 tomorrow, you can buy me some ice cream and we’ll call it even.”
Maybe Eddie’s already dead and this is heaven. That or he’s being punked somehow. Either way, he stands there like an idiot for a second, trying to process that you just suggested the two of you meet for ice cream.
“Um okay”, he says.
“Cool”, you grin, “see you then.”
“Right”, he says, “see you then.”
And then he’s swiping his bag from the counter and stiffly making his way back to Jeff and Gareth, his body still trapped in a state of shock.
“So”, Jeff prompts, “what was all that?”
“I um, I think I’m meeting her for ice cream tomorrow”, Eddie informs them.
The two younger boys exchange glances, mouths stretching into a matching pair of shit eating grins.
“Talking out of my ass, huh?” Jeff teases.
“Shut up”, Eddie snaps, “I’m just being polite okay? It’s not like a date or anything.”
“Sure it isn’t”, Gareth replies smugly.
“Whatever”, Eddie huffs and the others know not to continue the conversation, even if they spend the rest of the afternoon exchanging amused glances at each other.
-
Eddie waits until he’s back at the trailer to let everything sink in. When it does, he feels a vague sense of panic washing over him.
Embarrassing as it is, Eddie’s never had a real, serious girlfriend before. Hell, aside from a brief flirtation with Tammy Thompson that ended in a very awkward hand job in the school parking lot, he’s never really had any experience with girls (or boys for that matter) at all. And Tammy was the one that initiated that. He wasn’t even really into her, he was just desperate for some sort of female attention.
You, though, he is into you. Very, very much into you. And he has no idea what the hell he’s supposed to do or say. He finally, finally has a chance to go out with his dream girl, and he’s almost certainly going to say something wrong and scare you off like pretty much everyone he’s ever been into.
He wonders what the weather in Wisconsin is like this time of year, because he’s halfway to hopping in his van and heading there now, never to be seen or heard from in Hawkins, Indiana again.
Then again, maybe he’s over thinking it. It’s not like the word “date” ever came up in your conversation. Maybe this really is just him paying you back for his clumsiness, and afterwards you won’t even spare him a second thought. In the end, he figures that whatever the case, he’s not just going to leave you high and dry, so he has no choice but to go.
-
Eddie shows up outside the record store at 2:45 the next day. He stands there awkwardly, fiddling with his rings and secretly hoping that you don’t show up and he doesn’t have to deal with all of this.
No such luck though, you appear exactly at 3, looking as cute as ever in your jean skirt.
“Hey”, you greet and Eddie momentarily forgets how to speak.
“Hey”, he repeats, unable to formulate a coherent enough thought to do anything but copy your greeting.
“You ready to go?” you ask and he nods.
The record store is a fair bit away from Scoops Ahoy, and for probably the first time in his life, Eddie finds himself unsure of what exactly to say. Thankfully, you take the lead.
“So, have you heard Megadeth’s album?” you ask, “I got it the first day it came out and I love it.”
“Me too”, Eddie says, and he can feel himself being knocked out of his stupor then, “you know, my friends and I have a metal band.”
“Really?” you ask.
“Yeah”, he tells you, “we perform Wednesdays at the Hideout, if you ever want to come see us.”
“I’ll keep that in mind”, you smile and Eddie thinks his heart momentarily stops.
Walking into Scoops Ahoy with you by his side is an almost unreal experience. You and him go up to the counter and Steve Harrington is there in his little sailor suit that Eddie almost feels sorry that he’s forced to wear.
“Hey Steve”, you greet.
“Hey Y/N”, Steve replies, and then he notices that Eddie’s with you and he gets this super confused look on his face.
“So, uh, get whatever you want I guess”, Eddie says.
Once you two have ordered and gotten your ice cream, you eat it while idly wandering around the mall, just chatting about anything and everything. Eddie, as always, is frequently cracking jokes, and God is it mesmerizing to see the way you laugh in response.
It’s quite the disappointment when you’re finishing your ice cream and you’re bidding him farewell.
He knows he has to at least try to see you again so he tests the waters with a quick “that was fun, we should do it again sometime.”
“I’d like that”, you smile.
“Awesome”, he replies.
“Here”, you say, rooting around in your purse, “give me your hand.”
He obliges, and you produce a pen, which you use to scribble something onto his outstretched hand.
“What’s this?” he asks.
“My number”, you reply, “call me tonight or tomorrow?”
“Sure”, he tells you.
“Great”, you say, “I’ll see you, Eddie.”
“See you”, he says, hoping he doesn’t sound as absolutely lovesick to you as he does to himself.
You flash him one final smile before departing, and he just stands there awkwardly for a second, watching as you go. Once you’ve disappeared from sight and he’s snapped out of his trance, he peers down at the numbers you’d scrawled onto his hand. He has to remind himself that it’d be weird to get them tattooed onto himself permanently. He can’t believe that it worked. You went on a date with him, in public, and didn’t care if you were seen together. You laughed at his jokes. You gave him his number and asked to see him again. You liked him.
The trailer is as unbearably hot as ever when he returns, but for once, he doesn’t care. He’s too excited to call you later and hopefully set up another date.
#stranger things#eddie munson#feral raccoon boy#nikki's fic library#nikki writes#eddie x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x femme!reader#stranger things fan fiction#eddie munson x reader#eddie x you#stranger things fanfic#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x y/n#eddie x y/n#eddie x femme!reader#eddie munson x reader fluff#god i hate tagging#also my boss has a bit of Sade obsession if you're wondering about the title
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My brain won't shut up about this, so maybe if I write it my brain will let me finish working and get this massive work project off my plate.
Warning for Accidental Drunken Pregnancy
Fandom loves, correctly, the idea of Girl!Steve Harrington, either as an 'always a' or trans, we're a fan. And that's good. No arguments from me there.
But I was thinking about Always a Girl Eddie. And the impact that would have. Because see, Eddie is already Wrong in a lot of ways. She's poor, she's loud, she's a freak, she sells drugs, and starts shit with bullies. She's too much in every way, and she refuses to be a girl properly. Has ever since she was old enough to express an opinion.
She didn't want to play with dolls or play house. She wanted to run through the park chasing dragons. When her parents fought, she wanted to run away and get found by the Addams family where no one would be mad at her for liking black and reading about blood and fights and monsters.
By the time she's in high school, everyone's decided she's a lesbian. She isn't. She thinks she isn't, but she doesn't get a chance to try or test or find out before the whole damn town has made it Known. Eddie doesn't wear skirts, and she doesn't style her hair, and she doesn't listen when the counselor sits her down to talk about her behavior and how she needs to try to be a bit more like other girls if she wants to get married one day. That's her junior year, which is when she snaps and, true or not, goes on a rant about being a carpet munching butch who never wants to have a husband.
Her friends don't care. They've talked to her and agree its all bullshit. Her only regret about it is that her outburst becomes fodder for the kind of bias that makes her fail two classes her senior year. It makes her fail four her second time around. PE is one of them. The teacher won't let her participate if she isn't 'dressed appropriately' which suddenly requires that all the girls have their legs shaved. Surprise surprise, Eddie is the only one that has an impact on. Wayne gets into a shouting match over it, and he wins, but not in time for Eddie to pass.
And every time someone pushes her to be more ladylike, Eddie doubles down on being a freak because she's a lot of things, but she's not a quitter. The one good she knows she manages is that barely any other girls in Hawkins get bullied all that much. Eddie pulls too much attention, and Eddie is so far off the end of the scale, it makes the minor mistakes easy to ignore.
All her friends are guys because the girls of Hawkins are scared of the witch/lesbian/succubus/whatever bs they came up with this week. There are some girls who Eddie thinks want to come talk to her, thinks she'd be friends with if she could, but any girl willingly hanging around the Freak is going to get painted with the same brush.
She showed up to every single class in her third go around, daring her teachers to fail her again when she was getting perfect scores on anything with a straight answer, and doing so well on the subjective stuff they were giving her passing grades. She had a new flock of sheep who didn't care about the rumors because she ran Hellfire for them.
After Spring Break, after they accuse her of seducing and murdering Chrissy, after Eddie walks into Mordor and is dragged out the other side. After Eddie gives everything she has for a town that hates her, the school gives her the diploma. Maybe its just because they're terrified that she'll come back for a fourth try if they don't, but she has the damn thing.
Or maybe they don't want the new freshmen to start crying when they see her scars.
After the hospital lets them all leave, and after El and Will do whatever it is they do and promise it's over for real this time, Robin, Eddie, and Harrington sit around and watch crap movies and talk. It's still June when Robin comes out to her, and Eddie has to awkwardly explain that she isn't. Supportive, in favor of it, but not sure if she's like Robin.
"But everyone heard about what you said to--"
"Yeah, she was telling me I should start curling my hair and wearing makeup so I could find a husband."
"She did not."
"Yeah. I kinda snapped."
A few minutes tearing apart that kind of thinking later, and Steve asks, "So you like dudes?"
Eddie shrugs, because she's never tested that either. A bit of leftover enmity from when he was the King and she was the Freak keeps her from admitting she's a virgin. Instead she gestures to her face and neck, the part of her chest visible around her tank top.
"Don't think that's going to matter, Stevie, not now that I look like the Wicked Witch midway through melting."
There's nothing either of them can say about that. Between her status as a murder suspect, the infection from Upside Down dirt, and how efficient the demo bat fuckers were, her scars are ugly. Not the sort of thing she's read in books that a hero learns to take pride in. Just a mess. Her smile is jacked up on the left, and while she does have both of her nipples, the one boob is significantly smaller, and lumpier than the other now.
But they're friends, and its nice. Robin didn't find a fellow lesbian, but Eddie can understand the way she feels, and they bond over it. Where Robin goes, so goes Steve, so intentional or not, Eddie and Steve get close. Help each other with scar cream type close. It would be weird if there was any universe in which Steve would ever be interested in her. Instead they're good friends, and co-conspirators against the gremlins.
Robin is starting college in the spring semester in Chicago. Steve is going with her. Obviously. Eddie hasn't agreed to anything, but she's considering it.
They have one last party at Harrington's place. The kids leave around seven. The Hellfire guys leave around nine. By eleven, all three of them are plastered, and Robin is lamenting that she's leaving Hawkins and still hasn't kissed a girl. Eddie rolls her eyes and smacks one on her. Get it over and done with, right?
After an hour of Robin flustered and babbling about 'yes, yes, yeah, I do like girls! Kissing! Kissing girls is great! Steve! Steve-o! Did you know kissing girls is great?" she passes out on the couch.
Steve and Eddie, just sober enough to know that they're all going to be hungover in the morning, close blinds and lock doors. They leave water and asprin by Robin, then chug down a glass each.
"So, did it help you figure it out? Kissing my Soulmate with a capital P? Did you figure out if you like kissing girls more than guys?"
Eddie giggles instead of answering.
"I know Rob's not kissed anyone, but if you liked kissing her you probably could tell, right? So if you liked kissing her as much as you like kissing guys, or if its not like kissing guys, then you know!"
Steve's not a dumb as the kids joke. When Eddie doesn't answer, he puts it together. "Oh. Oh shit. Eds. You and Robin were each others' first kisses? Thats so -- you didn't have to do that! And now you don't know if you like kissing girls or guys or both or neither or -- Oh!"
Eddie watches Steve come to his decision and turn, and she decides to let it happen. Steve is the only guy her age who doesn't wince looking at her face. This is probably the only chance she's got until she's old enough her skin gets all wrinkly and no one can see the scars are there anymore.
It's better than kissing Robin. There's a lot of reasons why that might be true, but none of them matter, because after that first one. After a few seconds pause. After she leans a little closer like she's asking, they don't stop.
She wakes up naked and sore, with a blinding headache and the tight-skin pain that comes from forgetting the scar cream.
Awkward doesn't cover it when they look at each other in bed. When Robin trips on her way to make coffee, it gives them an excuse not to talk about it. It's bad enough that Eddie keeps thinking about it, and excavating the fragments of memory she's got. Probably the only chance she's going to get, and she remembers barely half. She does remember liking it, and Steve liking it, and neither of them being weird about the scars because they've been helping each other with them for months now.
Once they're sober enough for it, they talk, both of them apologizing, but not really. Neither of them regret it, even if it wasn't their best idea, and Eddie starts quoting Robin's rant about antiquated concepts of virginity when Steve tries to apologize for that. It's definitely weird, but they're not going to freak out about it.
By Wednesday, when Steve and Rob are loading up the beemer to drive north before the holidays, so they could get a place with a rental discount, everyone turns out to say bye. Eddie winks at Robin again, because it still makes her blush, and it still makes Eddie and Steve laugh when she does. She gives Steve a hug, and a promise to make a decision soon about moving up with them.
Six weeks of scheduled phone calls with them, and uncomfortable talks with Wayne, Eddie has finally, finally decided to go for it. She'll still be a freak, but according to Steve, no one in the city will bother her about it unless she asks them to. He's working at a diner, and swears the bookstore across the street will totally hire Eddie if she applies. Robin loves her classes, and her part time hours at the library on campus.
It's while Eddie is looking around and opening drawers, trying to plan how to move with more detail than 'throw stuff in the van' that she notices. There's a box of pads, mostly empty, in the corner of the bathroom cabinet. It's been mostly empty since November. And yeah, her period has never been predictable, and this isn't the longest its gone, and Eddie has never cared since she wears black all the time -- but. This time she had sex.
The odds are tiny, and the image of it is ridiculous. Eddie isn't any kind of a mom. Harrington is more a mom than she is. Anyway, all that shit in sex ed about it only takes once is crap. And she remembers Steve getting out the box of condoms. She doesn't remember anything between that and getting fucked, but she definitely remembers how concerned he was about opening the foil. So there's no way. No chance. Absolutely none.
The test comes back positive, and the nurse at the planed parenthood in Indianapolis asks if she wants to hear about her options.
It's pretty easy to choose as it turns out. Easier than quitting smoking cold turkey is for sure. Hell of a lot easier than telling Wayne. It's not something she ever wanted, ever thought about or considered, but Eddie knows this is the only chance she's got. Well. Sperm donors maybe, not that she'll ever have the money for it, unless she paid a guy to keep coming around until she got knocked up.
At first, she keeps it quiet because the nurse told her about the potential problems, especially with how much Eddie drank and smoked. It's not certain, so she stays quiet. Stalls the topic of moving up. She waits an entire day for the doctor to slip her in between appointments to get an ultrasound and check. Everything looks good. Healthy. and Eddie gets on their weekly scheduled call, hears Robin and Steve laughing as they tell stories, and Eddie breaks it to them.
"What do you mean? You said you were going to move up here. I thought you said you -- Eds, what the hell? You're going to leave me alone to watch Robin's attempts at flirting? You - I thought you promised."
"Excuse you, Dingus, she needs to come up so we can watch your attempts at flirting. I'm great."
"Fun as that sounds, me and Wayne are getting out of Hawkins. Wayne has some family in West Virginia, and I can't leave him at the mercy of all those spinsters. I'll still have a phone, you know."
They move before she's showing, and Wayne never asks, and Eddie never tells, but her uncle knows who it has to be. They land in Summersville, which is a damn lie since its a blizzard when they arrive. It isn't hard to use moving as an excuse to cancel a few phone calls. Then uses a boss moving her hours working at motel as an excuse when hormones means she knows she'll start sobbing if she gets picks up the phone.
Steve gets accepted to a community college. Robin aces her exams. Eddie finds out she's having a girl. She wouldn't have spent the money to find out since it wouldn't change anything, but the planned parenthood was still worried because of the alcohol at the start.
Wayne brings it up. Eddie considers it.
Steve gets a girlfriend. Eddie stalls.
Robin calls solo because Steve is on a one month anniversary date.
Eddie abandons the idea.
She never makes a choice to hide it from anybody. It's always one moment at a time, needing to get through one more thing, one more problem, one more checkpoint, then she could say it. By the end of July it's been too long, and it would be too weird. They didn't have some great tragic romance. They were good friends who got drunk one night. And Eddie is just living up to the warnings all the guidance counselors scribbled down about her.
She's never going to be anything special. She's not going to go chase her dreams and become the Joan Jett of metal music. She's coming up on eight months pregnant, can't hide it or pretend its something it isn't. She's still loud and obnoxious. She still wears all black and chained pants and refuses to style her hair in anything more complex than a ponytail. She's still mauled by monsters and scarred.
She's never going to be marriage material, and never wanted to be anyway. She can be a good mom though. Not a normal mom. Or a traditional one. She's probably going to end up punching someone at a pta meeting. But she can be a good mom for her daughter, whoever her daughter wants to be as she grows. And if that means she has to learn about ballet and glitter and my little pony, then she will.
Steve and Robin ask about a visit before their classes start since they'll have to do calls every other week now. They offer to drive to West Virginia, or buy Eddie a bus ticket. Eddie manages to dodge that bullet.
She dodges another when she starts contractions while on the phone with them, and plays it off like she has heartburn. She cries when she holds her daughter thirty hours later, smiling broad enough that the scars on her face hurt nearly as bad as the rest of her.
She gets good at sewing together a patchwork lie. Gets Wayne to take Lulu out for a walk during calls. Swallows the guilt when Steve talks about his girlfriend, Amy, who wants to have kids. Stares down the pediatrician who raises an eyebrow at her daughter's name.
It's awful. It's wonderful. It hurts more to do it alone than Eddie could have imagined, but she still can't bring herself to say it. Not because she thinks Steve would hate her for it . He wouldn't. One look at Stephanie Luthien Munson -- Lulu -- and Steve would know. And Steve would stay. And Steve would give up his classes and his girlfriend and his hope for his perfect family. Eddie has always known she's not what anyone is looking for.
So Eddie gets good at dodging questions, and explaining away noises in the background, and finding very reasonable excuses not to come out to visit. Very good at it.
She makes it to June of 1989, when her best friends decide it's been too long, and show up for a surprise visit.
Eddie was right though. It only takes a glance at the toddler on Eddie's hip as she opens the door for both of them to know.
#Female Eddie Munson#apparently#this is neither the thing I wanted to be writing (FTB)#nor the thing I needed to be writing (Massive Spreadsheet)#so file complaints with whatever muse popped in with this infection#and if its your muse who did this to me#come collect them#I do have strong feelings about Eddie as a girl though#bc the extra layer of societal expectations she would flip off?#the layer of predatory lesbian they'd paint her with#also im pretty sure this Eddie's gender is “Why does everyone care so much?”#and her sexuality is somewhere on the ace spectrum#Accidental Pregnancy#Pregnancy
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Nobody really knew why freshmen Steve Harrington and Tommy Hagan were having some kind of vicious spat, but they all knew it was happening. Couldn't be ignored, really. They were the up and comers for Hawkins royalty, and if small town highschool gossip loved anything, it was drama between popular kids.
It comes to a head one day in the parking lot, Tommy and Carol badgering when Steve blows up at them, for all the school to see.
"just because you're both content to be fucking miserable, doesn't mean I have to be! I want something outside of this damn town, the least you could do is actually give a half hearted 'good luck' but nooo. Couldn't even pretend to give a shit about what I want. Couldn't even be bothered not to shit on it. Fuck you both." He turns around and somps back into the school, sending his peers a tittering about what could possibly have lead to such a public falling out.
He gets all the way to Ms. Ingrid's art room before he takes a breath to steady himself. There's another student in there, working on some project or another late, and Ms. Ingrid is marking at her desk. Steve knocks on the door.
"Steve?" Ms. Ingrid asks, looking up from her work. "What are you doing here after school?"
He swallows. "I wanted to talk to you about swimming."
She blinks "well, sure. You'll be on the team again next year, right? You've got a beautiful butterfly." Ms. Ingrid did that, talked about swim strokes like they were works of art and her swimmers were painters, saying magnificent, gorgeous, amazing, beautiful! It was weird, look at sports like that, but Steve thinks he gets it, a little.
"yeah. I want to. But-uh. More than that." He scratches his cheek, nervous. "The Olympics are in two years this July. If I work for it, do you think I could make it?"
Ms. Ingrid watches him for a moment, and Steve fights not to fidget.
"it's just- I told Tommy and Carol I wanted to and they said it was stupid, that no one cares about swimming unless it's the Olympics and even then it's just for the medals, and that I probably wouldn't make it anyways so why even try?" He's rambling, he knows, but he's just shattered whatever friendship he and Tommy and Carol had and he wants someone to tell him he can do something. "But I want to. I love swimming, and I want to do it forever. And-and you said having a goal was important, for everything we do, so-I just really want to go to the Olympics. I want to be more than whatever Tommy and Carol think I should settle for, for being king of the school or whatever people want to call it. I want to stand on a podium and get a medal but more than that I want to go to the Olympics even if I don't win. I want to dive from the blocks and swim."
There are tears in his eyes, as Ms. Ingrid comes around her desk and places her hands on his shoulders. "It'll be a lot of work, Steve. Are you ready for that?" He nods. "A lot of early mornings or late nights, probably cross training. You might not have time for everything else you want to do-"
"I think I just lost both my friends so it's not like I'll have much to do."
She sighs. "You'll still have all your school work, might not be able to join basketball again but that's something to decide later, and actually travelling for meets is expensive."
"that's fine. I can handle that. But. Ms. Ingrid. Do you think I can do it?"
Slowly, she smiles. "Yeah, Steve. I think you can do it. And I'll do everything I can to help you there."
Steve grins, all teeth.
A month later, in May, Jaquline Ingrid gets a visit from Mr. Raul Foster, the head PE teacher.
"Jackie, I got a...well not a favour to ask. More of a proposal. Yesterday I got a call from James, down at the middle school, saying he had a kid that was all limbs and no coordination to go with them, and that he's worried she'll injure herself if she does anything more complex than running in gym class. She's moving up to ninth grade next year, so it was a heads-up." He sighs, arms crossed. "Now, we all know you've taken the Harrington kid under your wing to get him to the Olympics, and I figured hey, you can't be with him at every practice. Why not give him a, I dunno, spotter? Timekeeper? Someone at the pool with him to keep him in check, who also needs gym credits because she might brain herself accidentally?"
Jackie laughs. "Raul, seriously? The kid isn't even in highschool yet, and you're trying to pawn her off to me?"
He scratches his head. "I just figured maybe we introduce them now, you give them a few different workout routines for the summer, and let them figure out their dynamic without the pressure of adults always watching. Give you a break."
And, well. It's not a terrible plan. Not at all. Steve's been determined, yes, but she can tell he's lonely. He ditched Tommy and Carol, fully committed to proving them wrong, and seems hasn't been close to anyone else in school. It might be good for him to have a friend. Jackie huffs.
"fine. Honestly, Steve probably needs someone around his age that isn't gossiping about him and Tommy or about how he's the Harrington heir or whatever. What's our klutz's name?"
Raul smiles, obviously releaved. "Robin Buckley."
Based on this
#steve harrington#platonic stobin#swimmer steve au#robin Buckley#this got out of hand tbh#stobin#platonic with a capital p#hawkins is a small town all the teachers know each other even if not at the same school#finda writes stuff#finda's rambles
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could you write some smut with powerbottom steve harrington (or billy) after he beat reader in gym basketball or something
Get Wrecked
Steve Harrington x M!reader | fem aligned + minors dni!
not my gif!
first anonymous request and i am in love with this, thank you for requesting! and i feel like i’ve written a lot of billy lately, so i’ll make this one for steve.
CW: 1 mention of weed n alcohol, steve being a fucking brat, swearing, smut, edging?, reader is quite literally sporting a boner throughout this entire fic, sub?top!reader, bossybottom!steve, low prep.
pairing: Steve Harrington x M!reader.
he/him pronouns are used to refer to the reader.
a/n: i love steve i love steve i love steve i love steve i love steve i love steve i love steve
word count: 1.7k.
(all the characters in this fic are 18+.) making sure to clarify this since this takes place while the reader and steve are in PE class.
Y/N is very close to walking out of the gym and into his car to drive his horny ass back home. He blames Steve.
It started in the locker room when they were changing. They were getting ready to play some basketball, and Y/N normally likes to stay back until the locker room is empty to talk to Steve more like kiss him — but this time, Steve had other plans.
As Y/N is putting his shirt on, he hears Steve come up behind him. He turns around to say something but Steve cuts him off by grabbing his crotch.
“Wh — “
Steve leans in to whisper in his ear. “Good luck.”
And with that, Steve is strutting away. That smug little shit. Leaving Y/N breathless, and worried about what the hell Steve is planning to do.
He walks out, pulling at his shorts that do absolutely nothing to hide the fact that he’s half hard. The teams are lined up on the sideline of the court, and he goes to join in.
They were put into teams beforehand, so Y/N is going against Steve. Maybe that’s why he’s being such an asshole.
Their teacher yells at them to get onto their sides of the court before blowing the whistle. Steve is checking the ball with another guy on Y/N’s team.
The game starts and Y/N sort’ve feels bad for his team. He’s missing all his shots and doing a shit job at guarding the others, specifically Steve.
Every damn time he goes to guard Steve, he turns around and fucking grinds himself back onto Y/N. To everyone else, it just looks like they’re playing the game — but nobody can hear the shit that Steve is whispering to him.
“You suck.”
“You swallow.” Y/N quips back quickly, trying to reach for the ball, but Steve shoves back into him again and throws Y/N’s focus out the window.
“You like this — “ Steve says breathlessly, “fuckin’ perv.”
“Keep grinding on me like that and someone is gonna think something is up.” Y/N says, holding back a grunt.
Steve shoves back — knocking Y/N away from him and moving to shoot, making it in.
“Fuck.” Y/N whispers to himself, trying not to look at his teammates knowing that they’re pissed with him.
The game goes on and Y/N’s team loses 17-33. Nobody is all that mad because it’s PE and nobody really gives a shit — but Y/N is pretty heated about it. He’s heated all over, really.
He’s waddling to the locker room, finding the nearest stall and sitting on the closed toilet — just breathing. So much blood has gone down to his dick he thinks he’s going to pass the fuck out.
He’s in there for at least ten minutes before there’s a knock on the door. “You good?”
Y/N is breathing a little too hard and it takes him a bit to realize that it’s Steve talking, but it clicks when he sees his shoes at the door of the stall. “Shut the fuck up.”
“Mad that you lost?” Steve says and Y/N swears he can hear the smug smile on his face.
“Is — is there..”
“No, everyone’s gone.” And Y/N is surprised because he hadn’t realized how long he’d been trying to calm himself down in there.
He gets up and opens the door, facing his boyfriend. “Fuck you.”
“Yeah okay, I know you hate me and all — but I had to.”
“Had to what?” Y/N asks, moving into Steve’s space. “Tease me the whole game so that you could win?”
“Well, yeah actually.” Steve says with a blank expression on his face. “I got us an invite to that absolutely bangin’ party that’s gonna happen on Saturday.” He leans against the wall behind him. “Free drinks, weed, and whatever the hell else is gonna be there.”
Y/N doesn’t know if he wants to kiss or slap Steve right now. Probably kiss him, because he’d never hit Steve. “Are you fucking kidding me.”
“No.” And Steve is doing that stupid thing he does when he tries to hide his smirk. “You wanted to go right? So I got us in.”
Y/N groans and scrubs at his face with his hands. “You know, all you had go do was ask to go. You’ve got more of a pull than you think, Harrington.”
He just shrugs, wrapping his arms around Y/N’s shoulders. “Enough about that, nobody’s here.” He leans in and kisses Y/N. Just a peck at first. “Thank god we’ve got PE for our last period.”
Before Y/N can get a word out, Steve is pulling him in, and turning him around to slam him into the wall. “Let’s get started, yeah? Not sure how much time we have.”
Steve kisses at his neck and Y/N just holds the back of Steve’s head, letting him suck on the skin to leave bruises that he knows he’ll regret later — but he’s too far gone to care.
Y/N pulls him by the hair to bring him back to his mouth, kissing him slowly while Steve’s hands work at his shorts. Once he’s got a good grip, Steve slides Y/N’s pants down — just enough to pull his cock out. “Holy fuck.”
“Yeah. That’s — this is what you do to me.” Y/N moans as Steve strokes him, slow enough that it’s bordering on teasing. “You gonna get to it, brat?”
“Like I said,” Steve looks up at him, “dunno how much time we have, so..” Steve drops to his knees. “I gotta get you ready for me.”
Y/N bites his lip to hold back a groan at the sight of Steve on his knees. It’s mouth watering and he gasps as Steve licks at the tip of his dick. He’s sucking at it now, using his saliva to coat his cock in a layer of spit.
Y/N is losing his mind a bit — and he doesn’t realize how close he is before it’s almost too late. “I’m — oh shit,”
Steve tuts and squeezes at his base. “Dude, we haven’t even gotten to the good part yet.”
“What have I done to deserve this.” Y/N groans while looking up at the ceiling. Steve laughs and gets back up. He leans in close to whisper into Y/N’s ear.
“You’re gonna fuck me while I’m bent over that sink.” Steve points behind him. “And you’re gonna make me come on your cock, kay?”
Y/N looks star struck and Steve taps at his face softly. “Babe? Anyone home?”
“Yes — yeah just — “ Y/N takes a deep breath. “You — fuck you.”
Steve laughs and grabs his hand, bringing him over to the sink. “That’s definitely on the to-do list.” He leans against it and pulls his shorts down, showing off his tight ass as he turns around. “We don’t have all day, L/N.”
Y/N thanks whatever the hell brought him to Steve Harrington and brings his hand around to Steve’s mouth. “Spit.”
Steve complies and Y/N isn’t a hundred percent aware of the mirror until he watches Steve drop his head down with a moan as he sticks his finger into that tight fucking heat.
“Hurry up, hurry up, hurry u— unh!” Steve is begging until he finally gets what he wants “Oh fuck, that burn is good..”
“Stop squeezing me so much — “
“Gotta make sure you don’t finish too early.”
Y/N scoffs but it turns into a moan when Steve shoves himself back on him. “Move.“
Y/N starts thrusting, but they’re shallow and quick. He’s teetering on the edge and it doesn’t help that Steve is squeezing the living shit out of him.
“Fuck me, L/N.” Steve makes eyecontact with him in the mirror before pushing himself back onto Y/N to match his thrusts.
“I am.” Y/N whines, sweating dripping from his forehead.
“If you aren’t gonna fuck me,” Steve grips at the sink, “guess I’ll fuck you.” Before slamming himself back.
“Ohmyfuckinggod.” Y/N moans and Steve is going to fucking town. He’s bouncing himself on Y/N’s cock with no mercy.
“Mmmph — you fill me so well.” Steve mumbles, cock drunk and filled with the adrenaline from knowing that anyone could walk in and see the two of them.
“Steve — Steve..”
“Almost, I’m — get my dick out,” Steve grunts without missing a thrust.
Y/N is fumbling with the front of Steve’s shorts, finally pulling his hot cock out — leaking and red from lack of stimulation.
Y/N squeezes and strokes quickly, twisting his hand and rubbing at his tip — just how Steve likes it. “Godfuckingdamn — “
Steve shakes and comes all over the sink. He squeezes onto Y/N with the force of his orgasm and Y/N loses it.
“Steve I can’t — please, please.”
Steve stands, leaning back against him and using his arm to curl around Y/N’s neck. He nibbles at his earlobe lazily and whispers, “Fill me up, L/N.”
It was like pushing a button.
Y/N comes so hard that he nearly crushes Steve against the sink, grinding into him — gushing his cum into his boyfriend. He’s panting and sweating and his breath is hitching as Steve continues to nibble on whatever skin he can reach.
Steve laughs and Y/N takes a glance at the mirror and almost fucking passes out.
There’s some cum on the mirror, god knows how the hell it got there, but in the reflection he sees Steve’s hair mussed and his lips a bright red — he’s sweating and breathing hard too, Y/N swears his dick just got hard again.
“You alright, babe?” Steve whispers, turning to look at Y/N in the reflection of the mirror.
“I’m taking a screenshot.” Y/N mumbles.
“What?”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look as good as you do now.” He says. “Keepin that in my spank bank.”
“You’re an idiot.” Steve scoffs before laughing again. “You gonna clean me up?”
Y/N sighs and wraps his arms around Steve, nuzzling into his neck. “In a bit.”
“If we traumatize a janitor, that’s on you.”
“Mmm.”
likes, reblogs & comments are appreciated!
#stranger things#stranger things x male reader#male reader#steve harrington#steve harrington x male reader#x male reader#smut#gay steve harrington#steve harrington x reader
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The Eddie
Steve’s a teacher and constantly talking about his sweet and caring partner, Eddie. When they finally meet him, they are confronted with the fact that sweet Eddie is a metal band leader, who is very intimidating.
This is very much based off this post by @harringtonisms
On AO3.
Ships: Steve x Eddie
Warnings: none really.
~~~~~~~~~~
Mr. Harrington, or Steve as he begs his students to call him, is an oddity at the local public high school. He is still young, muscled but slender, with most girls fawning over him and his hair. He dresses sporty (expected of a PE teacher) but also soft for his hours as guidance counselor. Most importantly he is openly queer, which is very rare in 90s Indiana.
And Steve probably wouldn’t have gotten far in his career if he didn’t have the biggest ‘I don’t give a fuck’-attitude out there. Whenever parents complain or student comment, he’ll just raise his brow, like their opinion is so far out of the ballpark of his worries that caring about it seems plainly ridiculous.
So, he still works as a teacher and guidance counselor, and despite the setbacks he is massively popular under the students.
His PE classes aren’t like most. He has a rigorous stretching and warming up routine as well as a cooling down period, which everyone is required to follow to a t, though he doesn’t care much about how well they participate with the actual lesson. And he always talks while they go through the routine, either about self care or something he saw or anything random.
Those talks are the reason everyone is aware Steve is not straight, because he always – always – mentions his partner Eddie at least once. It’s like he won’t survive if he doesn’t mention the man every hour.
Jessie absolutely adores Steve. She is currently a Senior and has had Steve for PE throughout her entire school career, a fact she can’t be more glad about. She hates PE and Steve has never cared that she always sat on the bench as long as she participated with stretching, warming up and cooling down. And as a closeted lesbian, Steve is quite a comfort about her own future.
She loves hearing Steve talk about whatever Eddie did that day, because from what she has heard he is the sweetest guy out there. The way Steve talks about him is almost enough for her to go straight at this point.
Today is such a day. They’re stretching, following Steve’s lead as he says: “It is good to stretch. You are all too young to know, but there will come a moment in your life when sleeping wrong will affect you for a whole day. I fell asleep with Eddie on the couch last night. Don’t recommend that at all.”
He changes pose and everyone follows: “Luckily Eddie woke up in the middle of the night and carried me to bed. I guess hauling around his stuff has been good for his muscles. And I have been roping him into regular exercise, because it’s good for you. That’s why I think PE is so important, regular movement is important for everyone. It doesn’t have to be intense, you just have to keep moving every now and then. So, up, up, people, some laps, please.”
There is groaning, but everyone gets ready for laps. They all know there is no set limit or speed, you just need to keep moving for the seven minutes Steve sets. That’s all.
And the next class it is: “A pet is a good way to keep exercising when you’re a professional, since they need love and attention. What I won’t recommend is adopting three kittens.”
“Why did you adopt three then?” Johnny, one of the jocks, asks.
Steve rolls his eyes and says: “Because Eddie didn’t want to separate any of them from their siblings,” in a tone that is too fond for the annoyance he’s trying to convey.
“That’s kinda sweet,” Amanda comments and Jessie can’t help but agree with the cheerleader.
“It is, but he isn’t the one that got woken up at 5:00 AM by multiple kittens on his face,” Steve rolls his eyes, finishing the cooling down. “Anyway, my point is, think of things you enjoy that bring movement into your life. It’s not really homework, more something to consider.”
After that they all file out of the gym to get changed in the musty changing room that has seen the sweat of too many teenagers.
And the talk of Eddie doesn’t stick to his classes. Jessie goes to counseling with him, appreciating how he takes her seriously, how he never presumes to know her better and his suggestions are actually helpful, like he has been through something himself.
But that doesn’t stop him from coming in with a rumpled sweater as he says: “Sorry, I look a mess. Eddie is away right now and he usually irons my clothes in the morning.”
“Eddie irons your clothes every morning?” Jessie asks, unable to help herself, craving to know more about her teacher’s domestic life, even though it’s a bit strange.
However, going off Steve’s soft look, he doesn’t mind one bit to talk about his partner. “Yeah, he’s really sweet. He has looser hours, but he gets up with me anyway. Always says that since he doesn’t have to get dressed that it’s the least he can do.”
“That’s really sweet,” Jessie smiles.
“It is,” Steve agrees, before shuffling through his notes, glasses perched on his face. “Now, you said last time you’ve been sleeping a little better, that still the case?” And with that they move back to Jessie and her problems.
Still, even without guidance counselor sessions the Senior class has a pretty good idea of who Eddie is. He is a sweetheart and a softy, but overall an average caring dude, who has managed to capture the heart of their PE teacher.
But when they actually meet the man, no one recognizes him.
They’re in PE class, doing the cooling down when Jessie notices a man at the doorway, who instantly makes her uncomfortable with the way they are all bend over. He is dressed in black ripped jeans, a dark gray shirt with red letters reading ‘The Devil Was an Angel Too’ and has a leather jacket on. His neck is full of chains and his hands adorned by rings, hints of tattoos peaking out everywhere.
Yet, he does nothing but stand there for a moment, leaning against the door frame. His long dark, curly hair hides his expression, so Jessie doesn’t know what he’s staring at exactly. Though he seems relaxed, one leg crossed over the other, heavy boot resting on its tip.
Obliviously Steve continues on, moving into another stretch as he continues: “This is very good for you back, important for you all since you’re carrying a heavy bag around. I try to get Eddie to do this every night, but he’s so stubborn.”
“You shouldn’t be spreading lies like that, sweetheart,” the man speaks up, immediately getting the attention of everyone.
A hushed whispers go to the group of students as everyone notices the man, who at least sounds much nicer than he looks like, despite the words. However, more notable is how Steve lights up at the sudden appearance as he loudly exclaims: “Eddie! What are you doing here?”
That gets even more attention as multiple people repeat the name in surprise. Everyone giving up the pretense of cooling down in favor of gawking at The Eddie.
The Eddie in question looses a bit of his confidence under the students, before puffing himself up and grinning, revealing a sweet face. “That’s my name, don’t wear it out,” before turning to Steve and asking: “Have you been talking about me, princess?”
Steve has finally made his way through the crowd and is hugging the man closely. His soft colorful work out clothes contrast heavily against the metal look of Eddie. He is beaming as he shrugs: “I can’t help that you’re my favorite topic.”
“You flatter me,” Eddie smiles and his face and voice speaks to how much he adores the man in his arms.
“Not that I don’t love to see you, but you were supposed to come home tonight. Did something happen on tour?” Steve asks, brow furrowing as he tucks a bit of hair behind Eddie’s ear.
“Nah, all good,” Eddie assures him. “We got home early, because I drove for a bit so our driver could rest.”
Steve snorts: “Probably not that restful with you behind the wheel.”
“Uhm, excuse you,” Eddie guffaws, faux offended. “I distinctly remember one very eventful drive in that stolen RV.”
“Special circumstances and we gave that back,” Steve protests as the class raises their eyebrows to each other at the information they’re learning about their nice teacher.
“Sure, sweetheart,” Eddie smirks, before procuring a bag. “I was planning on crashing, but saw you forgot your lunch, so, you know, two birds on stone. You need the food and I was starved off your face, pretty boy.”
Suddenly the caring softie they’ve come to know through the stories. Because no matter how intimidating Eddie looks, that all falls away in how he looks at Steve. Not to mention how he came here, despite the fact that he was tired, just to see Steve and make sure he’s okay.
Jessie is near tears at the thought of someone caring so much, before she starts to think closer. Her little brother had mentioned one of his bands to her, shown her pictures too. And this man before her seemed very familiar for some reason.
“Oh my god,” she’s suddenly loudly yelling, despite hating attention, “you’re Eddie Munson! You’re the lead singer of Corroded Coffin. My brother loves you.”
Everyone is looking at her, but she’s looking at Eddie, who first looks surprised then a big smile breaks out on his face. “Your brother has great taste,” Eddie tells her.
“Wait he’s famous?” Amanda asks.
Now Eddie looks bashful as he explains: “I won’t say famous-famous. We can get a crowd, but we’re not doing world tours exactly. It’s a metal band.”
“I’m glad you don’t,” Steve interjects. “I don’t think I could miss you for that long.”
“If I ever get that famous, you can quit your job and travel with me,” Eddie promises, kissing Steve’s temple. Before he teases: “You can finally embrace your trophy wife tendencies.”
Steve playfully slaps his chests and protests: “I don’t have trophy wife tendencies.”
“Tell that to the mayor after they cleared my name.” Eddie hip bumps him.
“He deserved that,” Steve replies, face darkening.
“Alright, lets not get into that now,” Eddie placates him. “You obviously have a class to teach and I’ve distracted you enough. I should go and let you get back to teaching.”
And Jessie swears she’s seen her little cousins pull similar faces to Steve’s as he pleads: “My break is right after. You can wait for a little, right?” Eddie looks on the fence, so Steve pulls out the big guns. “I haven’t seen you in a month, Eds. Please.”
“Alright, alright, sweetheart,” Eddie gives in. “I’ll wait in your office.”
“Great,” Steve smiles in that smug way that one smiles after winning an argument or getting their way. Then he turns to the class and says: “Come on, walking people. No running. This is to cool down, not to get you pumped up again.”
As they walk, Jessie suddenly has more friends than before as everyone comes to question her what she knows about Eddie. She doesn’t know much, often tuning her little brother out, but she knows more than most.
So, they spend the last minutes of class gossiping about how different Eddie is to what they though he’d be like. At first Jessie can talk along, until they start mention how hot he is. To save herself, she mumbles something about him having a nice voice, before quickly making her way to the changing rooms.
Once she’s done, she hesitates. If she tells her brother about this and she didn’t get Eddie’s autograph, he’ll kill her, but she also doesn’t want to interrupt the recent reunion of the two. In the end, she swings by at the end of her lunch period.
Tentatively she knocks on the door until she gets permission to enter. Then she opens the door, popping in her head. Eddie is sitting on the usual talking chair, though he’s sprawled over it, while Steve sits in his own chair, leaning heavily on the table to be closer to Eddie. When he sees her, he smiles: “Ah, Jessie, anything I can help you with?”
“Oh, uhm,” she stumbles. “This is a bit embarrassing, but my little brother will murder me, if I didn’t ask for your autograph, Mr. Munson.”
Eddie snorts. “Mr. Munson, did ya hear that, princess? They have some respect for me, unlike your rascals.”
“My rascals are also yours and I had nothing to do with their manners,” Steve protests.
“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie waves him away, before focusing back on Jessie and giving her a disarming and sweet smile. “And it’s no problem, I’m glad your brother likes our music so much. You have anything particular to sign?”
“Uhm, not really and thanks so much,” she tells him.
“Here,” Steve hands him a piece of paper alongside a pen.
Eddie raises a brow at him and asks: “Do you have always our merch just lying around in your office like that?” before signing and handing Jessie a card with the full band on it.
Steve shrugs: “Of course.”
“God, your perfect, I love you,” Eddie breathes as if he’s in awe of Steve. It makes Jessie feel a bit like she’s intruding on a special moment, but she can’t bring herself to look away either. Because Steve is blushing and having a soft smile in turn and they just look so goddamn happy.
Unable to stop herself, she says: “Thanks again. I hope you get to catch up properly, you’re an adorable couple.”
Both of them send her a knowing smile, before thanking her and sending her on her merry way. She doesn’t know what she feels exactly, but she feels mostly seen and happy. Maybe hopeful for the future.
With lighter spirit she walks through the hallways, she can’t wait for next PE class.
~~
A/N:
I considered making Steve a History teacher, because it would make the story easier to get him talking and he does seem like someone who could become a History teacher, but actually cool PE teacher!Steve lives in my brain rent free XP
#rr writing#eddie lives au#steve harrington x eddie munson#steve x eddie#eddie munson#steve harrington#stranger things fic#stranger things#steddie#st#st post season 4#OCs
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Passing Notes (in Secrecy)
(A childhood crush to nothing to something fic)
(1/4)
In 7th grade Steve Harrington likes a girl for the first time. Outwardly, he likes girls when it’s convenient. When it gets his friends off his back, when it makes him looks cool.
This new girl at Hawkins Middle, though? The one with the curly brown hair and dimples and flannels that are too big for her? Steve doesn’t like her to be cool or whatever; she’s just for Steve.
But then the new girl Steve likes isn’t actually a new girl at all.
✨Read it on AO3!✨
Steve sees her across the hall.
Or, he sees her hair first, through a thinning crowd of other middle schoolers, running to their lockers or their friends lockers to chat and escape class for a few minutes.
Her hair’s just barely touching her shoulders, curly and dark brown. Just a little fluffy and Steve knows he’s never seen this head of hair before- a new person in a town like Hawkins where no one is new- he keeps staring.
She’s wearing a flannel that’s way too big for her, jeans and a messenger bag slung over her shoulder. There’s lots of little buttons on it, ones Steve can’t make out but he thinks it makes her bag look cool- she has personality. Eclectic (thanks Mr. Donovan for the new vocab word).
She slams her locker closed and turns- Steve just barely catches her face, pretty with her nose scrunched up like she’s mad- before she does a 180 and disappears down the hall.
Steve’s liked lots of girls, publicly. Loudly. He puffs his chest up in front of his friends and says “I dropped my pencil on purpose in Science class and Jennifer gave it back to me,” he smiles, smug as his guy friends look on. “Works every time. She’s into me.”
He was totally bullshitting, of course. He’d dropped his pencil on accident. But Tommy teased him about crushing on Jennifer- made some gross comment about her changing during PE- and Steve hated the little shriveling feeling he got in his stomach when Tommy made jokes about that stuff. Embarrassment. Shame- liking people was shameful- or, no, being lame, being unpopular, being undatable and shy around girls was shameful.
(Years later, Steve would scoff at his seventh grade self. The least of his problems.)
So Steve balled up that shriveling little feeling in his gut and clenched it right, took control. Actually, hadn’t Tommy heard? Steve was the master of picking up chicks. He’d played Jennifer like a violin, if violins were easy to play, and now she was hooked.
It kept going- first Jennifer, then Stacy, then Michelle. The second Steve caught even a whiff of his friends about to say something he took control. And yeah, turns out this shit was really like eighty percent confidence because the guys bought it and the girls did too- every one of them blushed and turned to look at their friends when Steve passed them by in the hallways. He was a chick magnet- the most badass chick magnet seventh grader you’d ever met, the way he told it.
When people were watching, anyway. When they weren’t, well. He guesses he’d liked Jennifer and the rest of them enough but he really couldn’t have cared less. They were fine. They were cool. But even if they were cool, the pressure of girls was way more trouble than it was worth.
But Steve sees her- and suddenly, he has his first private crush. A little feeling nudges it’s way into his chest. A little pinch in his heart when he sees her in the cafeteria or at her locker. And this is just for him.
For the first time, without anyone around, Steve likes a girl.
He doesn’t have any classes with her- wouldn’t dare ask any of his friends about her. He wants to keep this little feeling, this fragile thing in his chest, just for him. He won’t let anyone else ruin it.
He hears her laugh at something a teachers says- and it’s so cute. He noticies when she tucks her curly hair behind one ear- and she’s so pretty. He sees her eat alone at lunch and and wants to sit with her, pauses in the middle of the cafeteria- maybe-
“Hey, Steve,” Carol calls in the other direction. Tommy H and the others- Brian, Isaac, the whole gang are waiting.
Steve joins them, dragging his sneakers so they squeak on the linoleum in quiet dejection, mostly tunes out when his friends talk about some weirdo boy in Carol’s class who draws freaky pictures in his textbook and maybe is starting a cult.
He sees her name, kind of. Written sloppy on the paper she’s got crushed in her hands- a B on some math homework- he reads ELLIE MUNSON.
Ellie Munson. It’s cute. Ellie. Ellie.
He tucks the name away next to the little feeling in his chest.
Ellie.
*
A week later, he has a note written up. A little torn out piece of notebook paper, folded up into eighths in the breast pocket of his jacket. Right next to the tucked away little feeling in his heart and the tucked away Ellie . Ellie and the little feeling and the note squeeze in his chest, tight. He gets on the bus- it won’t take him home, but it’s the bus he knows Ellie will be riding because he told his mom he had to stay after school the day before so he could scope out the bus pick up- and she’s not there.
He stands at the front, in between two of the cheap bus seats, looking for her curly brown hair. He keeps going over every row, every mop of hair in every seat until he accepts that she’s not there and kids are pushing at him from behind- he drags his feet to the back of the bus and plops down in a free seat.
He takes out the little folded up paper and fiddles with it in his fingers. He pouts, looks out the window, feels the nerves drain out of him slow and sad.
Another day.
Thump .
Someone plops down next to him and Steve’s little pinch in his chest becomes a choke hold because holy shit it’s her. It’s her.
She’s got her Walkman in her ears, old and taped together with some stickers on it. She’s not paying Steve any mind, almost trained in the way she’s not looking at him; lost in the chaotic music turned up so high he can hear it loud and clear next to her, though he doesn’t know what it is.
Up close, she has the faintest hint of freckles on her cheeks. Steve’s never thought a nose could be cute before but hers is and her eyes are so big and round- he takes her in in sneaking glances, his cheeks warm.
They pass by three stops before Steve kicks himself. He doesn’t know when she gets off but he can’t miss it now. He can’t.
He turns his body- frozen stiff- towards her, their knees just an inch apart, and thanks god for the private bubble made by an entire bus of kids talking over each other so loud that no one would hear them even if they tried.
He clutches the note in his hand.
“Uh- Hi- Ellie?”
She doesn’t hear him at first, still ignoring him and staring at nothing like she’s a trained pro. Steve repeats himself but ends up tapping her on the shoulder and she jumps like she only just noticed him.
“…yeah?” She mumbles, quiet.
Steve doesn’t know what to say. He didn’t plan this far ahead- sit next to the pretty girl, give her the note, hope she says yes. But what does he say ?
“I, uh. Your hair is real pretty.” It’s not his best move- but other girls love compliments. Steve had called Natalie H’s eyes cute once and she had kissed him on the cheek. So maybe..
Ellie just blank faces him, looks a little confused. Offended, maybe?
Steve panics a little.
He has no idea where to go from here, so with his heart in his throat and his little tucked away feeling blown up to the size of a hot air balloon in his chest, Steve takes the little note folded up in eighths and thrusts it towards Ellie, his arms stiff.
She stares at him for four agonizing seconds before taking it.
And the note is about as elegant as the China-glass-fragile ego of a seventh grade boy will allow- which is to say, Steve had written, using his best pen in very careful handwriting:
Ellie,
Hi. I’m Steve. You’re a really cool girl. I like you. Will you go out with me?
[_] YES or [_]NO
Steve
Steve watches her, his lips pressed together in a thin line, the hot hair balloon in his chest ready to explode.
“You don’t have to answer now,” he manages to get out- is praying she’ll smile and slip it in her pocket. Maybe sit a little closer to him on the bus seat and share her headphones.
Her eyebrows knit together.
Her lips purse in a sour frown.
She looks at Steve like he’s something nasty stuck to her shoe.
Steve has never felt more scared.
“Is this a joke ? You’re not fucking funny,” Ellie spits, her voice is poison, it’s anger, she hates Steve and he doesn’t understand. Can’t wrap his mind around it and the feeling in his chest that got so big, that choke hold that was so tight- it’s going for the kill.
“No- no, I-“
“I told your dumb friends- I’m not a girl,” she snarls and balls the paper up in her hand.
“Wait- huh? No-“
And Steve sees it. Holy shit, holy shit- how could he be so dumb? The way his shoulders were just a little bit wider, the way his eyebrows were just a little bit unruly, not like the other girls in school- his voice, Steve had thought it was just a little scratchy for a girl but no. No.
Steve looks Ellie over and he’s not Ellie at all. On his messenger bag at between them, among the little buttons and pins a hand-sewn on patch says EDDIE in big bold letters.
Eddie Munson was not a girl.
Steve screams- not because Eddie but because he has so many things he wants to say all at once- I’m sorry I didn’t know and I didn’t know and it’s fine I don’t care I’m sorry and it wasn’t a joke I wouldn’t joke about that and I didn’t mean it- and I’m sorry-
And eventually he does. His face beat-red, he rushes to explain himself and then calms down and actually explains himself- and apologize- and apologize again.
Eddie- Eddie, not Ellie- side eyes him, weary. He looks from the note balled up in his hand to Steve and back again. “I’m.. not gay,” he mutters.
“No! No, me neither,” Steve rushes to agree. And he’s not. Eddie just.. really looked like a pretty girl. So obviously now that he’s not a pretty girl, Steve doesn’t like him. Duh.
“It’s the hair,” Eddie says. “People always call me ‘little girl’ when they see me from behind.” Steve agrees, laughs stiffly.
“So- we don’t have to, like, tell anyone about this.. it was a.. misunderstanding. I’m sorry,” Steve says for the hundredth time.
Eddie shakes his head, tells Steve it’s okay- he’s sorry, too, for snapping- but there’s some assholes around school getting on his case, so. He assumed Steve was, too.
“Tommy,” Steve supplies and Eddie nods. Adds ‘and Carol’ and Steve grimaces. They both know Steve knows Tommy and Carol. Their friend group is no secret. “Yeah, they can be.. I get it.”
And he does get it. He gets that whatever Carol and Tommy have been saying to Eddie or about Eddie that it fucking sucks and if they knew.. Steve doesn’t want to think about it.
(For him or for Eddie.)
So he and Eddie promise- this stays between them. Eddie seems to understand that Steve- well, he doesn’t have to say it and Eddie just gets it, gets what he wants to say. And Steve kind of thinks he gets Eddie, too.
And they give each other these smiles- careful, small smiles.
The bus lurches to a stop, just outside of Forest Hills trailer park and Eddie stands up slow, letting a few kids behind him go first. “This is me,” he says. “See you around.. Steve.”
“Uhh, yeah. Bye.. Eddie.”
Eddie shuffles down the middle of the bus and hops off the last step onto the pavement. He pretends to fiddle with his messenger bag, but Steve sees him sneak a glance up at the bus, right at the window where Steve is sitting Steve knows Eddie is looking because he’s looking too- until they lock eyes and simultaneously just about jump out of their skin, pretending they were doing anything but watching the other.
-
Steve wakes up nervous. His mom drops him off and he spends the whole car ride and the walk to his locker wondering if he’ll see Eddie. Will it be weird? He thinks of Eddie avoiding him- the weird guy who asked another guy out- and wants to hide a little.
It’s not that weird, though. He thought Eddie was Ellie- so it doesn’t mean anything. Now that he knows Eddie is Eddie, he doesn’t want to go out with him, obviously. So there’s literally nothing weird about it.
It continues to feel weird, though.
He’s walking to first period, reading over the homework he only half did, when he sees Eddie. It doesn’t feel weird when Steve actually sees him.
He wonders if he’s allowed to say something- he doesn’t have anything to say, he just wants to talk. Ask him if he got home okay or show him his stupid homework and see if he could get some help on number six, cause it was a bitch.
Maybe if they have an actual conversation after the disaster on the bus, Steve won’t feel as anxious as he has anymore. Maybe it’s because he’s talked to Eddie but he’s still thinking of her- of him- as Ellie.
Maybe if they have a conversation, they could be actual friends. Even if he’s not a girl, Eddie’s still kinda cool. They could hang out and listen to music on weekends or Steve could show Eddie his pool; other kids love his pool!
He has no idea what to say- just that it has to be something- but when he smiles and goes to say “hi” or “I like your shirt,” Eddie only waves and they both keep walking.
Steve keeps thinking about talking to him; maybe he can just go up to him at his locker and say hi like they’re already friends? Maybe if he asks a question, like about the buttons on Eddie’s bag? Steve tosses around the idea of asking to sit with him at lunch but shoots that down, fast. Sitting with someone at lunch is serious business, it’s not something done right out the gate.
He’s still thinking about it when Tommy and Carol corner him at his locker in third period.
“Is it true?” Carol almost throws herself into the locker next to Steve, leaning on it like it’s a life preserver.
“Is… what true?”
She scoffs and looks at Tommy in that giddy way she does when she has something juicy to talk about. “Jason told Michelle you and that weirdo in my advanced algebra class were sitting together on the bus yesterday. Michelle said that you asked him out. ”
Steve feels his stomach drop. Oh god. Oh god, oh god.
Carol’s smile is sharp and she looks curious- but in a way where she’s trying to see if Steve’s edible or not. If she can rip him apart.
She always did remind him of a hyena, like the ones on Animal Planet.
“Are you, like, a homo?” Carol asks, delighted.
“ No !” The denial comes up so fast and so violently that it kind of feels like vomiting. “Carol, what the fuck?”
And then he says something he knows is fucked up. But with Carol and Tommy’s eyes on him, one looking starving and the other disgusted, he doesn’t see any other way out. As soon as the words leave his mouth, he knows he’s going to regret them.
“That kid on the bus? That was just a joke. He sat next to me and I was like ‘what the fuck?’ I mean, you can’t even tell if it’s a boy or a girl. I was going to tell you about it at lunch, I knew you’d think it was funny.”
Steve sees Tommy’s shoulders relax a little and Carol’s face goes from gleeful to ecstatic and he knows he’s safe.
“Oh, Jesus, Steve,” Tommy exhales like Steve was just pulled from a burning bus. “You really had us worried. I thought I’d have to start changing in the bathroom during PE.”
“Oh my God, but I bet that weirdo Munson is gay. The poor eighth graders. I bet that creep stares at everyone’s butts when they change. Do you think we should tell the PE teacher?” Carol giggles.
Tommy shrugs like he might consider it. “My dad says that’s where they get you. The homos. In the locker room or the bathroom, right when you got your pants around your ankles.”
“Euuugh- It’s a miracle he didn’t, like, grab your ass, Steve! Imagine!”
Steve laughs with them, pretending to shiver in disgust.
He’s safe. Safe was supposed to feel good, wasn’t it? But all Steve feels is sick.
#st fic#stranger things fic#baby steve harrington#eddie munson#Steve Harrington#st fanfic#mine#this one has deep seeded trauma folks so buckle up!#full tags on ao3
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STRANGER THINGS AU???
This was inspired by a TON of different posts but, get me a school where we have
Nancy Wheeler as the English Teacher
Eddie Munson as the Music Teacher
Robin Buckley as the History Teacher
Vickie as the Geography Teacher
Argyle as the Art Teacher
Jonathan Byers as the Media Studies Teacher
Steve Harrington as the PE Teacher
Jason Carver as the Religious Studies Teacher
Barbara Holland as the Maths Teacher
#nancy wheeler#robin buckley#steve harrington#vickie stranger things#argyle stranger things#jonathan byers#barbara holland#jason carver#stranger things Teacher AU#I NEED MORE SUGGESTIONS FOR BUSINESS AND DT#AND TOMMY HAGAN#AND BILLY HARGROVE#CAROL TOO#HEATHER#ST Adults AU#Strangers Things#strangers things#stranger thing#stranger things s4
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I am convinced that Tommy and Steve were not friends until one day the former police chief intervened.
Steve first saw potential in Tommy on the playground in first grade.
Tommy always got all the good balls from the bin. The ones with bounce and plenty of air still left in them. He always got first pick too. If someone took a seat on the swing before Tommy could get to it, they would give it up quick. Steve had to know what Tommy’s secret was. How he got that respect.
But Tommy also had friends. He had followers too.
At lunch Tommy was always surrounded. And not just by the boys. Some girls even came over... Trading sandwiches for chips. Cookies for brownies. He told the wildest stories. Everyone thought he was funny. Steve wanted to be that funny. He wanted to learn from Tommy how to make others fall off their seats giggling. How to keep other’s attention and eyes on you like you were the greatest attraction on earth.
So he followed Tommy around. Committed his mannerisms to memory. Practiced Tommy’s jokes in the mirror at home and then tested them on some of the neighbor kids. They never delivered quite right. So Steve kept following him.
One day Tommy’d had enough, rounding on Steve.
“What’s your problem creeper? You gotta crush on me er somethin’?”
He jabbed Steve hard in the chest with an accusatory finger.
Steve’s face flushed and he began stumbling over his words, he never thought he’d be noticed. Most kids never paid him any mind.
Tommy shoved him.
“Ew! You do! Gross!”
“No! No, I don’t you jerk!” Steve exclaimed, getting angry and shoving back. He couldn’t have something like this reach his father’s ears, he’d never hear the end of it.
Tommy grabbed him by the shirt and Steve did the same, thrusting the both of them down hard against the blacktop.
They began scrabbling as others gathered.
Big hands gripped each of them by the shirt collars and tore them apart, Mr. Nick the gym teacher holding them in each hand.
“Principle’s office. Now!” he snarled, grasp tightening as he pulled them to their feet and marched them from recess.
In the office Tommy and Steve sat next to each other across from Mr. Vincent’s desk, arms crossed in defiance.
Tommy’s knuckles scraped and Steve’s nose bloodied.
Mr. Vincent was reclining in his chair, fingers intertwined as he gave them a lecture about not fighting.
They went back to class eyes burning into each other.
That was the first fight.
Steve still kept following Tommy around, and watching him in the classroom. He wanted what Tommy had and he wasn’t going to let a stupid scrap scare him off from watching the expert at a life that Steve envisioned.
Tommy was getting sick and tired of Steve and his creeping around and wanted to scare him off.
They got into more fights. The seats in the principle’s office was occupied by them more often than not.
Three months later when they were dragged in again after Steve slugged a baseball right into Tommy’s gut during PE, the police chief was waiting for them with Mr. Vincent.
“Boys... have a seat.” Mr. Vincent sharply pointed at the chairs.
They both slumped into their designated spots, warily looking up at Chief Draper.
Chief Draper was not known for being a nice man. He had a rottweiler named Sweetie that would chase children if they came anywhere near the side of the street his house was on, on Clinton Drive.
He pulled the pair of handcuffs from his belt.
Stepping up to the kids he clipped one cuff around Tommy’s wrist and the other around Steve’s.
Tommy and Steve looked at each other.
“Are we going to jail?” Steve asked.
Chief Draper sniffed briskly, his wiry mustache wiggling in reply.
“All depends....” he said.
Tapping Mr. Vincent on the shoulder, the police chief and the principle walked out into the main office and closed the door. Mr. Vincent giving Tommy and Steve a small wave through the office window.
“This is all your fault Harrington!” Tommy whined loudly, kicking his legs.
“I’m going to jail!” Steve sniveled, tears brimming his eyes.
Tommy yanked hard on the cuffs connecting them.
“Listen here dummy! No one’s going to jail! ...” Tommy rubbed his chin in thought.
Tommy looked back out the window at the two men deep in conversation. They were laughing, probably about Tommy’s downfall. About how an idiot like Steve was going to be Tommy’s first visit to the clink.
Tommy sighed in annoyance and thrust out his freed hand.
Steve was crying, hiding his face against his cashmere sweater vest. How could he have let himself fall so far? A life of crime at the age of six? Oh the horror!
“Hey dummkopf!” Tommy snipped, shoving his hand out further.
Steve looked up and eyed the hand suspiciously. “What’s that for...?”
Tommy rolled his eyes. “You wanna truce or not?”
Steve sniffed nodding his head, big watery eyes blinking.
“Then shake my hand and make it convincing.” Tommy said snidely.
Steve took Tommy’s hand with both of his and shook it vigorously, jerking his elbow up and down.
The two men reentered the room.
“Well boys...” Chief Draper regarded them.
“We’re sorry!” they both piped up in unison.
“I’ll never fight again as long as I live!” Steve swore, crossing his heart.
The chief chortled, looking over at the principle.
“Works for me...” the principle smiled.
The chief shrugged. “Alright, but this better be the last I see of you two...”
He leaned down hands on the cuffs, raising an eyebrow he looked at them both.
“Ya hear me?”
Steve and Tommy swallowed. “Yes sir!”
He opened the cuffs and sprung them loose.
#im not sure what this ship is named you guys HELP#tommy x steve#steve harrington#tommy hagan#tomington#???? is that the ship#harringrove#stommy
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billy and steve getting to pe late for w/e reason and it's country/line dancing day bc the pe teacher is sick or whatever and everyone's already been paired off so billy gets to huff and roll his eyes and bitch as he is forced to get down to cotton eye joe with steve harrington
#despite having grown up in nashville this never happened to me#that or i blocked it out#if it happened after 5th grade idk i was homeschooled and my parents are damn yankees#harringrove#british ppl were talking about scottish country dancing on the podcast i like and this came into my head#country boy steve harrington#gettin down to it
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This is dumb and 100% unprompted but i was thinking about steve and billy playing dodgeball in pe and how they play in opposite teams and always are the last ones standing and how steve is really good and dodging and billy always catches the ball in the air that is all. The game is absolute hell for everyone else bc they are both really good and it’s endless
oh my god don’t u dare call this dumb, it’s GENIUS, okay? i can see it so clearly and i LOVE IT
and like. i feel like they’d both love it, too. billy loves it because it’s the one time of day steve has to pay attention to him, just him. and steve loves it because it’s the one place he knows he can get even with billy, fair and square
it starts out super hostile, just this way of them emptying their tanks and letting go of the aggression (at the world, at each other), but it doesn’t exactly stay hostile. at some point it becomes kinda. kinda fun. friendly competition. bleeds outside of the gym. turns into them teasing each other in the hallway and in class, all, you were really off your game yesterday, huh, Harrington? you gonna be any better today? and lookin’ awful tired there, Hargrove. you ready to get your ass kicked later?
and suddenly they both find themselves really looking forward to it. genuinely. regardless of who wins. billy loves the way steve’s eyes light up when he wins and steve loves the way billy’s smile goes all big and wide and real when he does
before they know it, both their days revolve around the two of them being the last ones left in a stupid game of dodgeball
but maybe one day something goes wrong
billy throws a ball aimed steve’s face, is expecting him to dodge it like he always does, because he always does, but he doesn’t move quick enough today
doesn’t move out of the way and gets nailed. square in the nose
it’s like the whole world pauses while steve doubles over, holds his hands up to his face. billy can see the blood dripping from between his fingers and onto the floor and he can’t move. can’t breathe.
can’t think about anything that’s not november and the fact that he made steve bleed again and that he promised himself he’d never make steve bleed again and that he didn’t mean to take it that far and that steve is probably gonna go back to hating his guts and-
he offers to take steve to the nurse before their gym teacher even has to say it. pulls steve up off the floor and drags him into the locker room, down the hall and over to the nurse’s office. sits in a chair on the other side of the room while she pokes and prods at his face, asks “how does this feel?” and “how about this?”
and steve doesn’t flinch, not really. maybe once or twice when she pushes at a spot high on his cheekbone, already a nasty shade of burgundy, but otherwise he just shrugs. shakes his head and says, “it’s really not that big a deal. i’m fine.”
she gives steve a clean towel to wipe the blood off his face and billy watches him, watches all the red disappear from his nose, his mouth, his chin, and wishes he could do it for him. wants to sit steve down and tip his head back and watch his eyes close
wants to help him
wants to clean up the mess he made
billy doesn’t move, nor he doesn’t say a word
not until they’re back in the locker room a couple minutes later. there’s 15 still left in the period, so nobody’s around. nobody’s around to see the way billy watches steve as they each go over to their lockers to change, just a few feet apart
nobody’s around to see the way billy’s eyes roam over his face, land on the dark red, nearly purple that he’s got staining the skin under his left eye, along the side of his nose
nobody’s around to hear the way billy whispers, “sorry,” into the dead air between them
nobody but steve
steve, who looks over at him and says, “what for?” with this tiny, little wrinkle between his brow, pinched. this confused, little smile pulling at his lips, a laugh somewhere under the words
like he doesn’t totally hate billy’s guts
but billy’s still having troubling breathing over it, having trouble controlling himself. his guilt.
forgets about his locker, about changing, about anything that’s not steve and the fact that he fucked up and that he’s guilty, he so guilty and takes a step closer
reaches up to hold steve’s cheek in his palm. soft. bruised skin warm. swipes the pad of his thumb over the dark red, almost burgundy under his eye, careful not to press on-
“that,” he says, and steve’s eyes are wide. they’re so wide. billy can’t help but say it again. "i’m sorry,” and he doesn’t miss the way steve swallows when he runs his pointer finger over the shell of his ear. “for everything.”
for that
for november
for hurting you
“it’s okay,” steve says, more a whisper than anything else, but billy can’t take steve sounding like that, steve looking at him like that
he wants to say it again. but he’s not sure how to help his voice find the words
so he closes his eyes. leans forward. replaces his thumb with his lips and brushes them over the warm, bruised skin under steve’s eye. hears steve’s breath catch with it. feels his heart skip a beat. feels the whole word go quiet
and if he thought steve’s eyes were big before, they’re flat out bambi-like when he pulls back. wide and open and earnest and so so pretty billy can’t stand it
is going to leave. is going to pull his hand away and step back and grab his bag and leave the locker room without changing because he can’t believe he just did that, why did he do that, why did he do that?
but he only backs up half a step before steve gets a hand on the nape of his neck, pulls him in and presses his lips to billy’s. stops him dead in his tracks
billy’s almost ashamed of the way he melts into it, after he feels steve’s fingertips scratching at his skin. inviting. encouraging
brings his other hand up to hold the side of steve’s neck and pushes until steve’s got his back against the lockers, leans against him so that he can feel steve’s chest against his, steve’s heartbeat against his
isn’t sure he’s still awake when they come up for air. breathing heavy, eyes still half closed
open just far enough that billy can see that steve’s got a smile pulling at his lips. can’t believe his ears when steve breaks the silence
“you know,” he says, “you didn’t have to nail me in the face if you wanted to kiss me.” and it doesn’t sound like he hates billy’s guts at all. it sounds like, it sounds like steve wants this. “you coulda just asked.”
and billy laughs at that. easy. light. runs his tongue over his lips and can’t quite believe his eyes when steve’s fall to watch it. can’t believe this is happening, that he’s opening his mouth to say, “can i kiss you?” and that steve’s nodding
saying, “please,” and sneaking a hand under the hem of billy’s t-shirt
so billy does
kisses him until i’m sorry becomes it’s okay becomes how long? becomes since forever
billy never imagined getting the chance to kiss steve harrington, let alone it coming from a situation as stupid as this one, but he can’t say he’d trade it, either
not for anything in the world
#harringrove#harringrove hc#my hc#billy hargrove#steve harrington#ask#anon#Anonymous#harringrove fic#my fic
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Harringrove Teacher AU
"Found you, pretty boy!"
Steve jumps at the sudden noise, clutching the book he just read close to his chest. Billy stalks around the bookshelf, all sparkly eyes and toothy grin, and it makes Steve's heart skip a beat. "So you've been hiding in the library..."
"I-I'm not hiding. I'm preparing classes..." he mumbles, feeling his cheeks heat under Billy's bright stare.
Billy's eyebrow raises as he scans the cover of the book in Steve's hands. "Mathematics? Aren't you teaching English?"
Steve pushes a strand of hair behind his ear. "Ah, yeah... Tommy called in sick and I'm supposed to substitute his Math class this afternoon...." He's not sure why he's even providing an answer. Entertaining Billy normally never is a good idea.
And sure enough, Billy's grin turns broader and a little more feral. "Now aren't you a Goody-Two-Shoes..."
Before Steve can counter, Billy has his arms around his shoulders, his body a hot furnace against Steve's back, pressing in close.
Billy leans in close, his breath tickling Steve's skin as he mrumurs in his ear. "You never were good at turning people down, weren't you?"
"I certainly never heard you complain about that before..." Steve tries weakly and hates the high-pitch of his voice, his eyes search the empty spaces between the shelves. Billy never seems to care much about what other people thought of him, but Steve would be lying if he said he wasn't afraid of being found out.
Billy rubs his stubble against the sensitive spot on Steve's neck and teasingly starts to run his tongue over the shell of Steve's ear, making Steve forget his worries and go weak in the knees.
"I'm not complaining as long as I'm the only one you can't turn down," Billy murmurs and Steve has to close his eyes at the shiver that runs down his spine.
"Billy," Steve moans lowly when the PE teacher's hand dips deeper, letting his fingers run over the fabric stretching over Steve's thighs. The sensation makes heat shoot straight to his dick. "Please, Billy," Steve pleads. "Someone might come..."
But if any, it seems to urge Billy on even more and he starts to slide his hand under Steve's cardigan, starting to untuck the shirt underneath. "You are cute when you're flustered, you know that?"
Steve shudders when Billy's fingers make contact with his skin and he grips the book so hard the spine is giving a dangerous crack. "Billy," he sighs, about to give in to Billy's touches when he suddenly hears someone laugh.
Billy jumps almost as hard as Steve at the sound of two students stepping into the library, laughing and chatting. Hastily he pulls his hand free from Steve's cardigan and Steve pulls the thick maths book tight over his stomach, where he can still feel Billy's fingers ghosting over his skin.
Steve's heart is beating loudly in his chest and his whole face is hot as he takes a cautious step away from Billy, clearing his throat.
The two students walk past their isle, one of them turning and greeting them. "Hey, Mr. Harrington. Hey Mr. Hargrove!" The other gives them a mock-salute and returns to talk about whatever happened in the cafeteria yesterday.
When the two are out of their visual field, Steve let's out a breath he hadn't noticed he had been holding. "That was close," he huffs running a slightly trembling hand through his hair.
When he looks over, Billy's grin is spreading again already, but he can tell his eyes are cautious.
"Well, I guess I'll leave you to your preparation," Billy murmurs and Steve ignores the pang of disappointment he feels at the words. Something must have shown on his face, though, as Billy's grin grows wider and he teasingly licks his teeth. "But..." He leans in closer again, his left hand settling on Steve's hips as his eyes turn darker. "Just in case you should finish early... I'll be in the equipment room behind the gym."
Steve swallows hard at the obvious invitation and Billy watches the slight bop of his Adam's apple with hungry eyes. He leans in closer once more, his lips ghosting over Steve's ear as he murmurs "You know... taking care of the equipment."
Before Steve can reply, Billy pulls back and turns around, waving over his shoulder as he starts to make his way out of the library. And all Steve can do is hide his obvious arousal behind the book in his hands and stare at Billy's ass as he walks away.
#harringrove#harringrove fanfic#harringrove art#harringrove fanart#steve harrington#Billy Hargrove#fanart#fanfiction#harringrove week of love#better posting this late than never
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“Not now, Billy!” He’s five years old the first time his father says those words to him, the first time he hears that voice, raised and dripping with irritation.
Billy snaps his mouth shut, fingers curling around the paper in his hand, crumpling the edges. He just wanted to show off the drawing he made at kindergarten, wanted to see his father’s eyes light up as he praised him for how good it was - the way his teacher had.
His mom is at the stove, stirring the soup she’s made them for dinner, and she thinks she’s being ignored, but Billy sees the roll of her eyes as she glances back at them.
She doesn’t say anything, just goes back to stirring.
Not now, Billy
“Get away, you weirdo!” Caleb Parker is Billy’s best friend in third grade. Or was.
Billy’s pretty sure best friends don’t yell at each other in front of everyone at recess. He’s pretty sure they don’t push each other, either. But Caleb’s hands connect with his chest with enough force to knock him onto his butt.
Billy sits in the mud, blinking up at Caleb’s retreating back, the laughter of their classmates mingling with the rushing of blood in his ears. His cheeks feel too hot, like they’re going to burn off of his face. He gets up, swiping furiously at the tears that start falling from his eyes, and runs for the door of their classroom.
His teacher doesn’t say anything as he rushes past his desk, out into the hall, and into the bathroom. He runs into a stall and slams the door shut behind him, pressing his face against the cool metal.
He doesn’t understand what’s happening. Caleb’s been his best friend since first grade. Just the day before they’d gone to the park across from Caleb’s house, played tag and competed to see who was best at the monkey bars. Caleb won. And when they sat side-by-side on the swings, Caleb had reached out and taken Billy’s hand.
It was the first time anyone had held Billy’s hand, aside from adults when they crossed the street or his mom at the grocery store. Billy had been surprised at how different it felt - Caleb’s hand was warm, despite how chilly the Autumn day was, and Billy wished he’d never have to let go.
Billy just tried to say hello, like he always did. And Caleb pushed him, looked at him like he was discarded gum on the bottom of his shoe.
Get away, you weirdo
“I can’t stay here anymore,” the words are hushed, wet, accompanied by labored sniffling. “I just…god, Syl, I can’t fucking breathe.”
Billy’s ten years old, sitting on the other side of the kitchen wall, TV turned low in front of him as he doodles in the margins of his math homework.
It’s not the first time he’s overheard a conversation between his mom and someone named Sylvia. Some faceless woman his mom never talks about, just whispers to over the phone when his father’s not around, fingers nervously toying with the chord.
It is the first time he’s heard her say those particular words, though. The first time he’s heard the tears in her voice. The first time she doesn’t join him in the living room afterwards.
The next morning he wakes up to his father throwing her records at the wall, and when he slips past him to check their bedroom, he sees the open, empty drawers of her dresser, the absence of her toothbrush by the sink.
She didn’t take him with her.
I can’t fucking breathe
“You let a guy suck your dick one time and suddenly he thinks you owe him something, like some needy little bitch.”
Billy’s fifteen years old. He’s not supposed to be hearing this, but the smugness in Jeffrey Humbert’s voice sends rage searing through his chest.
Jeffrey had practically begged Billy to suck his dick at the party over the weekend. He wasn’t even drunk or high like most guys are when they ask him for it. And Billy agreed to it, cause he liked the attention, however fleeting it was.
Problem was, Billy actually liked Jeffrey a little more than he liked most guys who asked. So maybe it meant more to him than it should have. And maybe he was an idiot for thinking this time would be different, this time Jeffrey would reciprocate, wouldn’t pretend he didn’t know Billy from Adam afterwards.
Billy wouldn’t be making that mistake again.
He slammed his locker shut, relishing in the sharp silence that followed, and turned the corner, coming face to face with Jeffrey and two other boys from their PE class. The two other boys look nervous, but Jeffrey looks unbothered, the smugness still showing in his expression.
That’s his mistake.
Billy gets up in his space, reaches a hand down to cup his dick through his gym shorts and squeeze, hard. Jeffrey lets out a whimper, tensing with the pain.
“Keep talking, asshole,” Billy snarls right in his face. “You’ll learn, I’m pretty good at talking, too.”
And talk is exactly what Billy does. He learns the art of talking shit after that, spreading rumors, weaving intricate stories that have everyone around him wrapped around his finger. He relishes in the attention of it all. Relishes in the way no one can touch him.
No one knows the truth lying just under the surface - that it’s all a facade. Control the narrative so it can’t control you.
Like some needy little bitch
“Jesus, do you ever stop talking?” Harrington’s a pretty guy. One of the prettiest Billy’s ever seen. And Billy’s got him right where he wants him - at arm’s length.
Harrington hates him, just like Billy designed.
He doesn’t have a clue about the way Billy’s eyes track him through the halls at school. The way Billy plies Tommy with beer in order to get more information, figure out what makes Harrington tick, what pisses him off, how he can keep up this game he’s playing.
He doesn’t know about how Billy lies awake late at night sometimes, thinking about those perfect lips - thinking first about what it would feel like to get them around his dick, until his thoughts drift to more dangerous territory…What those lips would feel like against his own. How that tongue, which pokes out when Steve’s concentrating really hard in class, would taste. How his skin would taste. How his voice would sound, all high and breathy when Billy touches him in all the right places.
Billy talks shit, taunts and mocks, and makes as much ruckus as he can, desperate to keep Steve in that sweet, safe spot.
And Steve behaves. For a time.
Jesus, do you ever stop talking
“Stay.” Billy lifts his head from where he’s bent over, searching for his shirt on the floor, and meets Steve’s soft, imploring gaze.
He doesn’t move, doesn’t think he can.
Everything inside of him is telling him it’s a trap. Or maybe he misheard the word.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. It was a moment of weakness, and it was going to cost him everything.
There’s a buzzing in his head, white noise that’s telling him to get out while he still can.
But then Steve’s warm fingers brush over his ribcage, curling around his waist, tugging until Billy gives in. He lets himself be drawn back into bed, back under the covers.
“Sleep better when you’re here.” Steve whispers against the back of his neck, breath tickling the skin there before his lips press against it; comforting in a way Billy never imagined he’d experience.
Stay
“No, I like it when you’re like this.” Steve’s cheeks are pink as he ducks his head, as if trying to hide from Billy’s gaze - but Billy doesn’t miss it. He wonders if he could feel the heat of them, if he was brave enough to reach out and touch.
Steve’s sitting beside his hospital bed, listening to him ramble about all the music he can’t wait to listen to when he can go home, back to his stereo and his extensive collection of tapes.
“Like this?” Billy asks, unable to hide the surprise in his voice.
“Talking about stuff you love,” Steve answers, a little quieter this time, but he meets Billy’s gaze again, and he smiles.
“Oh.” Billy says, a bit dumbly. And then it’s his turn to blush, looking down at his lap, where he’s picking at the dead skin around his fingers. Wetness gathers at the corners of his eyes, and closes his eyes to try and keep it from spreading.
Steve’s hands reach out then, covering his hands, stopping him. And Billy can’t help smiling, just the tiniest bit, as he turns his hand over and threads his fingers with Steve’s.
I like it when you’re like this
#harringrove#i can't tell if this feels complete#or as emotionally impactful as i want it to#but i'm sick of thinking about it#and writing is like pulling teeth these days#so this is the best i've got to offer#brought to you by the song Smother by Daughter on repeat for several hours
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