Can I get a stuffed crust Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson love triangle (end game Steve), extra bacon with breadsticks 'I can't even look at you anymore. How sick is that?' Like maybe Eddie cheats on reader and Steve comforts her and her the months she falls for him but he’s been in love with her or something and maybe Eddie gets super mad and tries to do something. I hope I did that right this is my first request lol Thank you!
begin again
pairing: eddie munson x reader , steve harrington x reader
w/c: 3.9k+
warnings/tags: toxic relationship, cheating, angst, comfort, eddie is a dickhead, happy ending
a/n: genuinely don't know how to write something short with these two
masterlist // pizza party
You hadn’t planned on surprising him. You just… missed him. The last few days Eddie had been distant- short texts, canceled plans, that faraway look in his eyes when you were together. You told yourself it was the new campaign he was writing, the stress of the Hideout gigs, anything but what your gut kept whispering.
So you stopped for his favorite greasy takeout, drove straight to the trailer park, and parked beside his van like you always did.
The lights were on. Music- Black Sabbath, low and crackling- spilled through the thin walls. You smiled despite the nerves, knocked once, then pushed the door open when no one answered.
“Eddie? I brought-”
The words died.
He was on the couch, the one you’d helped him drag inside last summer. A girl was straddling his lap, her hands fisted in his hair, his rings flashing as his fingers dug into her hips. Her mouth was on his like she was trying to crawl inside him. His eyes were closed. He wasn’t stopping her.
Your plastic bag hit the floor with a wet slap. The soda inside burst.
The girl froze. Eddie didn’t.
He looked at you like you’d walked in on him watching TV.
“Shit,” he muttered, not even pushing her off right away. “Didn’t know you were coming over.”
The girl climbed off him fast, grabbing her jacket. She wouldn’t meet your eyes as she slipped past you and out the door.
You stood there with the takeout bag dangling from your fingers, heart hammering so hard it hurt.
Eddie finally stood up, running a hand through his hair like this was mildly inconvenient. “Look, before you start-”
“Before I start?” Your voice came out sharper than you expected. “I walk in and you’re letting some girl grind on you and that’s your opening line?”
He shrugged. Actually shrugged.
“It wasn’t a big deal. She came over after practice. Things got carried away. You’re making it sound worse than it is.”
You felt something crack inside your chest.
“Carried away? Eddie, her tongue was in your mouth and your hands were up her shirt. That’s not ‘carried away.’ That’s cheating.”
He had the nerve to look annoyed.
“Jesus, relax. We’ve been together like- six months. It’s not like we’re married. People mess up. You gonna crucify me over one mistake?”
“One mistake?” Your voice rose. “You don’t even look sorry. You’re standing there acting like I’m the one being dramatic because I caught my boyfriend with another girl on his lap.”
Eddie sighed like you were exhausting him.
“Look, I’m not gonna lie and say it meant nothing, but it also wasn’t this huge betrayal you’re turning it into. We were just having fun. You’re blowing it up because you’re insecure or whatever.”
That was the moment something in you went cold.
“We’re done.”
Eddie blinked. “What?”
“We’re done, Eddie. I’m not doing this. I’m not going to stand here and beg you to care that you just hurt me. You don’t even seem to give a shit that I’m standing in front of you crying.” Your voice wavered but you didn’t stop. “So I’m leaving. Don’t call me. Don’t come by. Don’t show up at my place with some half-assed apology when you finally realize you fucked up. We’re over.”
He didn’t chase you. Didn’t even step forward.
“Fine,” he said, and the casual way he said it made your stomach turn. “If that’s what you want.”
You walked out before he could see the tears finally spill over.
The drive to Steve’s was a mess of blurred streetlights and shaking hands. You kept replaying Eddie’s face- that bored, almost irritated expression- like you were the problem for walking in at the wrong time. By the time you pulled into Steve’s driveway your chest hurt so bad you could barely breathe.
Steve’s porch light was on. You didn’t knock gently- you pounded until the door flew open.
He took one look at your face and his whole expression changed.
“Hey- hey, whoa. What happened? Come inside, come here-”
You stumbled over the threshold and straight into his chest. The second his arms closed around you the dam broke. You sobbed so hard your knees buckled. Steve caught you, half-carried you to the couch, and pulled you down with him. You ended up half in his lap, face buried in his hoodie, crying so violently you could barely get air.
“Okay. Okay, I’ve got you. Breathe with me. In… out… that’s it. I’m right here.”
You tried. Failed. Tried again.
Steve’s hand moved in slow circles between your shoulder blades. His other hand cradled the back of your head like you might shatter.
“Talk to me when you can,” he said quietly. “Or don’t. Just cry it out. I’m not going anywhere.”
It took minutes before words would come. When they did they spilled out between hiccuping gasps.
“I went to see him. I wanted to surprise him. I brought food and everything like a fucking idiot and the door was open and she was- she was all over him, Steve. On his lap. Kissing him like- like he was hers. And he was letting her. His hands were under her shirt and he looked like he didn’t even care that it wasn’t me.”
Steve’s arms tightened. You felt him swallow hard against your temple.
“What did he say?” His voice was low. Careful. Dangerous in a way you rarely heard from him.
You pulled back just enough to look at him, eyes swollen, cheeks wet. “He said it wasn’t a big deal. That we’ve only been together a few months and people mess up. He called me dramatic. Insecure. Like I was the one who did something wrong by catching him.”
Steve’s eyes darkened. His hand came up and gently pushed your hair out of your face, thumb lingering a second too long against your cheek before he dropped it.
“That piece of shit.”
“I yelled. I think I screamed. I gave him every part of me and he just-” Your voice cracked again. “He threw it away for some girl who hangs around the bar. Some girl who isn’t me.”
Steve was quiet for a second. When he spoke his voice was low and steady, the same tone he used when you used to have panic attacks in high school.
“You didn’t do anything wrong. You hear me? Nothing. This is on him. All the way on him.”
You shook your head against his chest.
“I should’ve known. He’s been pulling away. I kept making excuses- ‘he’s stressed,’ ‘the band’s taking a lot,’ ‘he loves me, he’d never-’” A bitter laugh tore out of you. “God, I’m so stupid.”
“Hey.” Steve pulled back just enough to tilt your chin up with two fingers. His eyes were serious, soft around the edges the way they only got when he was really worried about you. “You are not stupid. You loved him. You believed the best in him because that’s who you are. That’s not a flaw, that’s-” He exhaled hard. “That’s one of the best things about you. He’s the one who couldn’t handle having something good.”
Fresh tears spilled. Steve thumbed them away gently.
“I feel so small,” you whispered. “Like I’m not enough. Like I’ll never be enough for someone to actually stay.”
Steve’s jaw tightened. You saw the muscle jump.
“Don’t you dare let him make you feel that way. You are more than enough. You’re the one who stayed up until three a.m. helping him rewrite campaign notes because he was panicking. You’re the one who brought Wayne soup when he’s sick and pretends you don’t notice how much Eddie’s eyes light up when you walk into a room. That asshole had the best thing that ever happened to him and he pissed it away because he’s scared or selfish or both. That’s not on you.”
“You did the right thing,” he said quietly. “Ending it. You deserve so much better than someone who treats you like that. Who looks at you like you’re the inconvenience when you catch him hurting you.”
Steve exhaled through his nose, sharp and angry on your behalf.
“You’re staying here tonight. No arguments. Guest room’s ready or you can crash out here with me. Whatever you need.”
You nodded against him, too tired to pretend you wanted to be alone.
A few months had passed since that night at the trailer.
You didn’t think about Eddie much anymore. The ache had faded into something distant, like a song you used to love but couldn’t quite remember the words to. Steve had been there for all of it- steady in a way Eddie never was. Movie nights that turned into falling asleep on his couch. Late drives where he let you vent or just sit in silence. Little by little, the space Eddie left stopped feeling empty and started feeling full of something else.
Something warmer.
You realized it on a random Tuesday.
Steve had come over with takeout after you mentioned in passing that you’d had a shitty day at work. He didn’t make a big deal out of it. Just showed up, kicked off his shoes, and sat on the floor with you while you ate straight from the containers. At one point he looked over, sauce on the corner of his mouth, and said, “You know you can call me for this stuff, right? Even if it’s stupid. Especially if it’s stupid.”
The way he said it- no pressure, no big deal- hit you square in the chest. Your stomach flipped. Your heart did that stupid little stutter it only ever did around him lately. And suddenly you weren’t just grateful for your best friend. You were in love with him.
It scared you how easy it was to admit to yourself once you let the thought in.
You didn’t tell Steve. Not yet. You were still figuring out how to hold something this big without dropping it. But you needed to say it out loud to someone, so you called Robin.
Shopping with her was supposed to be casual. New jeans, maybe a couple shirts, coffee after. You were halfway through trying on a jacket in the fitting room area when the words just came out.
“I think I’m in love with Steve.”
Robin froze with a hanger in her hand, eyes going wide.
“Wait. Like… Steve Steve? Our Steve? The one who still uses that stupid Farrah Fawcett spray?”
You laughed, but it came out shaky. “Yeah. That Steve.”
Robin set the hanger down and leaned against the wall, studying you.
“Okay. Walk me through this. Because last I checked you were still picking up the pieces from Munson the Magnificent Asshole. And now you’re telling me you’re in love with our best friend?”
You sank down onto the little bench in the fitting room, jacket forgotten in your lap.
“It wasn’t sudden. That’s the thing. After everything with Eddie… Steve was just there. He didn’t try to fix me. He just showed up. Made me laugh when I thought I’d forgotten how. Let me cry on his stupid expensive couch without making it weird. And somewhere in the middle of all that I stopped seeing him as just my best friend who was helping me through a breakup.”
You swallowed, voice dropping.
“I look at him now and I feel it everywhere. The way he says my name when he’s worried. How he always saves me the last fry even though he pretends he doesn’t. Last week he fell asleep on my shoulder during that terrible horror movie and I didn’t want to move for an hour because I liked having him that close. I’m happy, Robin. Actually happy. And it’s because of him. I think I’m in love with him and I don’t know what to do with it.”
Robin’s expression softened into something fond and a little knowing.
“Finally,” she said, not unkindly. “I’ve been watching you two orbit each other for months like a couple of idiots who don’t realize they’re already halfway in love. He looks at you like you hung the moon, you know. Has for a while. Even before Eddie blew everything up.”
Your heart gave another painful little kick.
“He’s never said anything.”
“Because he’s Steve,” Robin said, rolling her eyes affectionately. “King of repression and self-sabotage. He probably thinks he’s protecting you or some noble bullshit. But if you feel this way… you should tell him. Or at least stop torturing yourself by pretending you don’t.”
You were about to answer when movement caught your eye in the mirror.
Eddie?
You thought you saw a dark blur of wild hair and his signature battle vest with the giant Dio patch. Unmistakably him.
Your stomach dropped.
Eddie drove straight to Steve’s.
He didn’t bother knocking. Just parked crooked in the driveway, killed the engine, and stalked up to the front door like he had every right to be there. His fist hit the wood hard enough to rattle it.
When Steve opened the door- hair messy, wearing that same old Hawkins hoodie- he looked surprised for half a second before his expression shuttered.
“Munson,” Steve said flatly. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Eddie’s mouth curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile.
“Heard something interesting today,” he said, voice low and sharp. “Thought maybe you and I should have a little chat about it. About her.”
Steve’s hand tightened on the doorframe. His voice stayed calm, but there was steel underneath it.
“You don’t get to show up here talking about her like you still have a say. You lost that right the second you decided some random girl at your trailer was worth more than her.”
Eddie’s eyes flashed.
“Yeah, well. Maybe I fucked up. But I’m not gonna stand around and watch you swoop in like some white knight while she’s still figuring her shit out. She’s vulnerable. She’s not thinking straight. And you-” He jabbed a finger at Steve’s chest. “You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you? Playing the nice guy, letting her cry on your shoulder, acting like you’re not just biding your time until she’s over me.”
Steve stepped out onto the porch, closing the door behind him. He didn’t raise his voice, but the protective edge in it was unmistakable.
“She is over you. Completely. And whatever she feels now- that’s hers. Not yours. Not mine to push. I’ve been here because she needed someone who actually gives a damn. Someone who doesn’t treat her like an inconvenience when she walks in on them cheating.”
Eddie’s jaw worked. For a second he looked like he might swing. Then he laughed, short and bitter.
“You think you’re so much better than me, Harrington. But if you hurt her- if you let her fall for you and then decide she’s too much work- I’ll make sure you regret it.”
Steve didn’t flinch.
“I’m not you,” he said quietly. “I’m not going to hurt her. And if she feels something for me… that’s between me and her. You don’t get to insert yourself into it because your ego can’t handle losing.”
The two of them stood there in the cooling evening air, tension thick between them.
Eddie finally took a step back, but the look in his eyes said this wasn’t over.
“Tell her I heard,” he muttered. “And tell her I’m not done talking about this.”
He turned and walked back to his van without another word.
Steve watched him go, heart pounding for reasons that had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with the girl who had no idea her ex had just declared war on the one person who’d been quietly falling in love with her for months.
What did he hear that had him so fired up he had to come over here?
More time passed- and the two of you together happened without either of you really noticing.
There was no dramatic confession, no big “what are we” conversation under the stars. One night you were on Steve’s couch, exhausted after a long week, and he leaned over to kiss your temple the way he always did when you were sad or tired. Except this time you turned your head at the last second and caught his mouth instead. The kiss was soft. Careful. When he pulled back his eyes were wide and hopeful and a little terrified.
You didn’t say anything. You just kissed him again.
After that it was like gravity had finally been allowed to do its job. Your things started appearing at his house- a hoodie, your favorite mug, the book you were reading. He started keeping your favorite snacks in the pantry without being asked. You fell asleep in his bed more often than your own and woke up to him tracing lazy patterns on your back like he’d been doing it for years.
He called you “baby” one morning while pouring coffee and neither of you commented on it. It just fit.
By the time summer rolled around, everyone who mattered already treated you like a couple because you were. It had slipped into place so naturally it felt ridiculous to question it.
Steve decided to throw a 4th of July party.
“Nothing crazy,” he told you while you were curled against his chest one night, his fingers playing with the ends of your hair. “Pool’s already clean. I’ll grab some burgers, some beer. Invite Robin, a few of the guys. Fireworks at the end. You in?”
You smiled against his shirt. “Wouldn’t miss it.”
The party was exactly what he promised- loud but not chaotic, warm summer air, music spilling out the open doors, the smell of grilled food and sunscreen. You spent most of the night with a drink in one hand and Steve’s arm around your waist or his fingers laced through yours when he wasn’t flipping burgers. Every so often he’d duck down and kiss your cheek or the corner of your mouth like he couldn’t help himself. It was easy. It was good.
You were happy.
Around ten o’clock the back gate slammed open hard enough to rattle.
Eddie stumbled into the yard, clearly drunk, a half-empty bottle of something cheap swinging from his hand. His eyes were glassy and red-rimmed, hair a mess, leather jacket half-zipped like he’d thrown it on in a hurry. The music kept playing but conversations died down as people noticed him.
Steve’s arm tightened around you for half a second before he stepped forward.
“Eddie,” he said, voice calm but firm. “Not tonight, man. You need to go.”
Eddie laughed, short and ugly. “Not tonight? That’s funny, Harrington. Real funny. Because I heard you’ve been real busy making yourself comfortable with something that used to be mine.”
He pushed past a couple of people and stopped a few feet from Steve, swaying slightly.
“You think I didn’t hear?” Eddie’s voice rose. “At the mall? Her telling Robin she’s in love with you? That you’ve been playing house while I was still trying to figure out how to fix what I broke?”
Steve didn’t back up. “She’s not something you get to claim anymore. And you’re drunk. Go home before you do something you’ll regret.”
Eddie’s eyes flicked to you. Something ugly twisted across his face.
“And you,” he spat, taking a step closer. “You just moved on like it was nothing? Like what we had didn’t matter? I fuck up one time and suddenly you’re playing girlfriend with the guy who’s been waiting in the wings like a fucking vulture?”
Your stomach twisted, but the anger that rose was cold and steady. You stepped out from behind Steve before he could stop you.
“One time?” Your voice was sharp. “You didn’t ‘fuck up one time,’ Eddie. You had another girl in your lap when I walked into your trailer. And when I caught you, you looked at me like I was the problem. Like I was dramatic for being hurt. You didn’t apologize. You didn’t even care.”
Eddie flinched but recovered fast, defensive.
“I was an idiot, okay? I know that now. But you didn’t even give me a chance to make it right. You ran straight to him and now you’re what- in love? That fast?”
Steve moved half a step forward, protective. “Watch how you talk to her.”
Eddie ignored him, eyes locked on you.
“You really think he’s better? That this little fairy-tale bullshit is gonna last? He’s gonna get bored. They always do.”
You felt something snap.
“I can’t even look at you anymore,” you said, voice steady even though your hands were shaking. “How sick is that?”
The words landed like a slap. Eddie actually rocked back a little, like they’d physically hit him.
You kept going, voice rising with every word.
“I used to look at you and feel everything. Now I look at you and I feel nothing but tired. Sick. Because you stood in that trailer and acted like I was overreacting for being devastated that you cheated on me. You didn’t fight for me. You didn’t even seem sorry. And now you’re here, drunk, trying to start a fight with the one person who actually showed up for me when you didn’t. So yeah, Eddie. I can’t even look at you anymore. And that’s on you.”
The yard was dead silent except for the low music still playing somewhere inside.
Eddie stared at you for a long moment, something broken flickering behind the anger in his eyes. Then he laughed once, bitter and small.
“Fine,” he muttered. “Fuck this. Fuck all of you.”
He turned and staggered back toward the gate without another word, bottle still clutched in his hand. The gate slammed behind him. A few seconds later his van roared to life and peeled out of the driveway.
Steve was at your side instantly, one hand on your back, the other gently turning you to face him.
“Hey,” he said softly. “You okay?”
You let out a shaky breath and nodded, leaning into him. “Yeah. I think… I think I needed to say that.”
He pulled you in, arms wrapping around you tight. You could feel his heart beating hard against your cheek.
“I’m proud of you,” he murmured into your hair. “And I’m sorry he ruined the night.”
You shook your head. “He didn’t ruin it. He just reminded me how far I’ve come.” You pulled back enough to look at him. “With you.”
Steve’s eyes softened in that way they only did for you. He leaned down and kissed you slow and sweet, right there in front of everyone, like the rest of the world could wait.
The party picked back up after a while. People gave you space at first, then gradually the music got louder again, the laughter returned. Robin brought you a fresh drink and squeezed your hand without saying anything. You and Steve stayed close for the rest of the night- his arm around your shoulders, your hand in his back pocket, easy and natural like it had always been this way.
Later, after everyone left and the fireworks had faded, you ended up on the couch together in the quiet house. Steve pulled a blanket over both of you and you curled into his side like you belonged there.
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