Lover boys (Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove X reader)

Chapter 2: Monster

During English, I felt his eyes on me a majority of the time. I was occupying myself with poking Steve in the back. He was always ticklish, so watching him flinch and gasp was always funny to me.

Billy passes me a note. 

[insert phone number]
Call me ;)

I scoff and write on it.

No thanks ;) tehe

I set it on his desk and smirk.  I hear a disappointed exhale. It take the entirety of my focus not to bust out laughing. "Miss wheeler. Is there something you want to share with the class?" The teacher asks. "Sure! Hey, new boy, do you need an itemized list of why I will never go out with you? I'd be elated to oblige," I look at billy. "Nice one, doll. Give it week tops, and you'll be wanting more than a date with me," he says... out loud. "Keep dreaming Hargrove," I turn back to my notes.

Steve wasn't amused at Hargroves response.

After class, Steve walked with me to my locker. "All I'm saying is, I don't trust him. Remember that one ex of yours? I didn't trust him either and guess what? It's the reason he's your ex!" He exclaims. "Steve, you didn't trust Eddie because he was doing drugs. Turns out, we was getting drunk and picking up chicks at his concerts," I roll my eyes.

"One girl, peach," a voice cuts in. "It's the principal, Edward," I respond. "I was drunk," Eddie responded. "Not my problem," I deadpan. "Just talk to me, please," he begs. "It's the fact that you did it in the first place!" I exclaimed, slamming my locker shut and looking at him. He was leaning against the lockers lazily while he frowned. Not slouched, Eddie was taller than me by a bit. I avoid his eyes. He grabs my face to make me look at him. Steve cuts in and pulls me away, putting my face into his shoulder.

"You've hurt her enough, Munson," he snarled. He led me away and my classes continued as normal.

I get into PE and everyone has to go out and run the mile. God, PE was every horny teens dream. Boys pulled their shirts off and girls rolled their shorts. I forgot my gym shorts so I was wearing my extra athletic wear. I was extremely uncomfortable and tried pulling down my shirt, but that made my breasts more prominent. I hated being looked at, being compared to slutty magazine models and bimbos of high school. I hated being looked at by the pack of dog boys, staring like vultures to a corpse. Steve saw and gave me his jacket.

"Here, tie it around your waist," he held it to me. I smiled and grabbed it, tying it around my waist. I hug Steve, on my tiptoes with my arms around his shoulders. "Thank you for being my best friend," I whispered into his bare shoulder. He hugged me back.

"Alright, everyone to the start. Three laps, now," the coach said. Me and Steve jogged at a steady pace, conserving energy. "What was your time... last time?" I asked in heavy breaths. Truth be told, I'm asthmatic, but no one needed to know that, especially Steve. He'd be upset and try to slow down, and I know he loves his reputation and having a long mile time would be unacceptable for king Steve.

(Hi, author here. I am an asthmatic (vigorous activity induced- running at a fast pace for too long, etc.), I was also diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder. sometimes my anxiety and asthma mix and I cry when I have an asthma attack)

"Uhh... I think 7.0, wanna try for 5?" He asked, controlling his breathing. Inside I panicked, but I nodded.

FUUUUUCCCKKKKK!!! MOTHER FUCKER!! AGGHHH SHITTTTTT!!!!

We completed our first lap at a good time of 1:30.5. Steve and I sprinted for 30 seconds. I was sweating abnormally and my hands got clammy and cold. I was panting and felt nauseous.

Don't get scared, you're fine. Make Steve proud! Just don't cry.

Dontcrydontcrydontcry just please don't cry, breathe through your nose and don't cry or whimper. Don't let them know. Even if your head is light, keep going.

"Jesus... you tryin' to... kill her Harrington?" Billy caught up with us. Steve, confused, looked at me.

Please don't say I look pale!

"Y/n, you look nauseous, if we need to slow down we can" he said in heavy breaths. I couldn't talk or a whimper would come out. I shook my head.

Steve grabbed my shoulder and stopped my. "Steve! What about your record!?" I exclaimed trying to hold in my cries. "Fuck the record if you're not okay!" He yells. "We're walking until your okay," he demanded. "Steve, it's... it's not that simple," I sigh, now panting heavy. "What?" He asked in confusion. "I have asthma... it won't just go away," y/n said. "Oh... well Nancy told me something about when someone doesn't have an inhaler. Raise your arms above your head," he guided my arms and I crossed them over my head. "Just take deep breaths," he told me. I had tears on my cheeks. He wiped them. "You're okay," he whispered. "You okay, now?" He asked. I nodded and dropped my hands. He grabs one of them and we walked a little then worked up to a jog. We clocked at 8.30.

"I'm sorry, I slowed you down," I tell him disappointedly. "Don't fucking apologize. I'm only upset you didn't say you were struggling," he abrasively told me. I sigh. He bent in front of me and grabbed my hands. "Why didn't you tell me?" He looked sad. "I didn't want you to think I was a loser," I look away sadly. "Look at me," he hummed. I lock eyes with him. "How could the coolest girl be a loser for something she can't control?" He asked me sincerely. He sits me down and hands me his water bottle. "Thanks, again, Steve," I tell him. "Always," he brushes a stray tear off my face with a smile.