Slow and Steddie /// stranger things one shots. Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson

2.Broken glass🥀💔

AN:  Again still not great at this but I'm trying ok- give me a break. This one did kind of hurt to write though... I hate both of these chapters ;-; I'm so sorry for this.

TW// slurs, graphic descriptions, abuse, and just over all really mean language. You have been warned. Please be safe out there <3 if you choose to skip this chapter, the next might be safer.

No one's POV

Steve was relaxing in his room, laying flat on his back with his music blasting.

It was almost 10:30 at night and he was all alone in his big house. His parents where almost never home, so he was used to not having them around.

That being said he didn't like being alone. It scared him. Will had been alone. Billy had been alone. Barb had been alone... bad things happened when people where on their own. Not that he would ever admit that. He also didn't like the silence... it always made him feel like something bad was going to happen so he was blasting his music to drown it out.

But of course, his big empty house has a lot of places to hide nails bats, so he felt relatively safe.

"God, how much longer till morning..." he said. Talking to himself was just another way he coped with the quiet, although it sometimes made him question his sanity. After all you don't catch too many people talking to themselves.

He didn't actually plan on sleeping, but the kids where coming over for breakfast tomorrow so he was just going to stay up waiting for just enough time to start making pancakes. He didn't want them to be cold when they got there.

When he saw it was only 10:30 pm he sighed in defeat, sitting up.

He just closed his eyes and listened to the music, not hearing the front door slam or the Increasingly loud footsteps that echoed through the empty halls. He was too focused on the music to pay it any mind.

He continued listening, making up images of him dancing to it in his head because he didn't have the energy to get up and actually do it, so he just used his imagination. Something his mom told him she used to do...

It was actually starting to cheer him for about 10 minutes before the unavoidable dread kicked in as he heard a loud crash and someone yelling his name.

Dad was home.

Steve turned down the music thinking maybe his mind was just playing tricks on him. It has a tendency to conjure up horrifying things when he was in the dark. Of course, he knew better than thinking that would be the problem.

He tried not to leave his room when dad was home so he was just going to do whatever he had to to avoid seeing him.

"Why is he home... I thought he had another Trip-" he worried. "He's probably just here for the night. It's fine." He mumbled, turning his music back up just a little.

"STEVE. GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE. NOW!" His father screamed. Steve turned off his music, frozen in fear. Obviously he could tell his dad had been drinking just by his slurred words.

"He's been home like 10 minutes and he's already drunk..." honestly Steve was kinda impressed. Then again, maybe now wasn't the time to appreciate his dads drinking habits.

His dad was a mean drunk, so he never drank in public, but the moment he was home, he drank like it would cure all his problems. Sometimes Steve wondered if he did the same, would it solve all of his problems? He assumed not, since it never actually fixed his dads either.

Normally he hid somewhere until his dad left so he would think Steve wasn't home, but his dad wasn't stupid enough the think a ghost was blasting music. Even if it was technically possible- I mean if Demogorgans exist-