#ETA: new name is I'd Fall For You Twice

[steddie-there]

Another bit from my Steddie fix-it, Holding Out For a Hero. (ETA: new name - I'd Fall For You Twice)

(After one of them - probably Eddie - wakes up from a nightmare.)

"I don't know how you do it, man." Eddie's voice is muffled from where he has his face pressed to his knees.

"Do what?" Steve asks. He scoots a little further onto the bed, tucks Eddie closer to his side.

"Deal with it. With all that Upside Down shit. I mean, you've been fighting monsters since, what, '83? It's just been a few weeks for me and I'm scared as hell. I'm terrified he's gonna come back for me or Max, try to finish us off. Or that he'll try to take out one of the kids. Or Nancy or Rob or you," he whispers, his voice strained and halfway to a sob.

There's an almost imperceptible pause in the way Steve is running his hand comfortingly up and down Eddie's arm. But he doesn’t say anything and Eddie thinks maybe he doesn't want to get into all this feelings shit.

But then, "Me, too," Steve whispers back, almost inaudible. "I think I've been afraid ever since that night in the Byers house." 

Eddie peeks over his knees, tears clinging to the edges of his eyelashes, and side-eyes Steve. "You? Steve Harrington. Scared?"

Steve glances over and nods. Swallows. "Yeah. Me, Steve Harrington. Terrified. After that first time -" he sighs. "I just wanted to pretend it never happened. You can ask Nancy, it's why everything between her and me went to hell. But then it happened again. And again. And now it's happened again and I don't know if it's ever going to stop happening."

His breathing quickens with his rambling words, his arm tightening around Eddie's back. Moving one of his arms from where it's clasped tightly around his knees, Eddie lays his hand comfortingly over Steve's where it rests on his shoulder. Feels Steve tangle their fingers together and waits for his breathing to even out.

"Like I said - you've had all this shit for years. And yet, you just keep fighting. How do you do it?"

Steve tilts his head over to rest it against Eddie's. "I really don't know. I just - do. I mean, what'll happen if I don't? That hellhole will try to invade our world again and I won't be there to help stop it. So I guess I just…" He pauses, thinking, and Eddie waits, relaxes into the feel of Steve pressed close to his side, of their hands wrapped around each other.

"I guess I just do what I can," he continues. "I take the gremlins to the arcade and I drive Robin to school and I give Dustin stupid advice about girls and I make sure there's a box of granola bars in my car for when Max 'forgets' to eat breakfast and I always restock the first aid kit at work and I learn CPR just in case someone stops breathing the next time we have to fight. Because at least then, I'm being useful. At least then -" He stops, just closes his eyes and breathes for a moment, as if he can't quite bring himself to say the next words. "At least then, I'm not bullshit," he whispers and it sounds like a wound.

Eddie squeezes Steve's fingers, trying to soothe the bitter tone in his voice that he doesn't quite understand. "So… you take care of everyone else," he says and it isn't a question.

Steve huffs out a breath. "Yeah, I guess I do. It's about the only thing I can do."

Eddie is quiet for a long moment. He doesn’t agree with that, but that’s really a conversation for another day. "Who takes care of you?" he finally asks.

Steve blinks. "What?"

"You take care of everyone else. But who takes care of you?"

Now it's Steve's turn to be quiet. "I don't - I mean - I don’t need - “ Steve shakes his head, clears his throat. “Robin. I’ve got Robin, you know. To talk to. She’s great.”

Eddie smiles softly. “And thank god for Buckley. I’m glad she’s there for you - when you let her be.”

Steve looks away, but Eddie keeps pressing. “Have you told her you’re still spending every night in a hospital chair? That all you’ve been eating is those granola bars you keep in your car? That you haven’t heard from your parents since before spring break?” Steve shoots him a look and Eddie just raises his eyebrows. “I’m convalescent, not stupid. You think I haven’t noticed?”

He doesn’t get an answer.

“How can she take care of you, like, really take care of you, if you haven’t told her any of that?”

Steve sighs, rubs at his forehead. “Eddie, it's not anyone else's job to do that. To take care of me."

"And yet you've made it your job to take care of all of them - well, all of us, I should say." He squeezes Steve's hand again. "So how come you won’t let anyone take care of you?"

Steve sighs. "It's not - it's not like that. I can take care of myself, no one else needs to worry about me."

"Sleeping for nights on end in that back-breaking chair is what you call taking care of yourself?" Eddie says with a wry twist to his mouth.

Steve is quiet for so long, Eddie thinks he's not going to answer. But finally, "I don't want to be a bother," he answers softly.

"Steve Harrington, you are many things. But a bother is not one of them," Eddie declares. He can’t help but think how, if someone had told him even two months ago that he would one day be assuring King Steve that he is in no way, shape, or form an annoyance, he would have laughed in their face. But now? "Scooch in and get comfortable and let someone - let me - take care of you for once," he insists, trying to tug Steve to lay down next to him. "I'm not letting you fall asleep in that damn chair again, not when there's plenty of room right here. And tomorrow, you are getting a real breakfast before you go to work.”

Steve resists for a few moments. “Eddie, c’mon, you don’t have to - you need your rest, I’ll be fine.”

But then he makes the mistake of looking down and Eddie is peering up at him from under his lashes, big doe-eyes pleading, and Steve lets himself be pulled down. He shifts, careful of the spots on Eddie’s body he knows will sometimes flare with pain, but stays close, his arm still around the other boy’s shoulders.

Eddie settles closer, pulls the blanket up over both of them. Their eyes meet and Steve feels something stutter in his chest, has to close his eyes against that gaze that he knows now sees him far too clearly. He feels Eddie relax against him, feels his breathing slow, starts running his fingers through Eddie’s curls, trying to ease him back toward sleep.

Nuzzling his face into Steve’s neck, Eddie sighs out, “Maybe now we can both get some sleep, yeah, Stevie?”

Steve smiles tiredly. “Yeah, Eds.”

He feels one of Eddie’s hands gently tuck some hair behind his ear, stroke softly down to rest on his cheek. “Shhhhhhh,” Eddie whispers.

“Mmkay.” Steve mumbles, as the rhythm of Eddie’s breathing - safe and steady and oh-so-alive - finally lulls him to sleep.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #holding out for a hero #steve takes care of everyone else but doesn't let others take care of him #because he feels like that's what he has to offer and if someone needs to take care of him in return what he's giving is useless #eddie *does not* agree #and *will not* let him get away with it #ETA: new name is I'd Fall For You Twice #i'd fall for you twice

[katsukikitten]

Hello friends! Here is my contribution to the Bakugou Birthday Bash! The master link will be linked here ! Please enjoy my bit of an angsty fic! And all of the other art and works that are on the master list! Enjoy the big bakugou blow out and remember to leave a comment on your favorite pieces! Happy birthday ya shitty man! (Lowkey become 3d please)

Warning: he's 28 btw 😂 (my fic says so also)

It shouldn't be this fucking hard to get groceries and booze. It's a quick and easy errand. Everything already pre-ordered for an important birthday that just needed to be picked up. And yet here you were crying in your car trying to get it together before the attendant asked for the order name. Honestly you had texted out "I can't do this today. Sorry." Several times before deleting it, telling yourself not to hit send. But you would have to be having the worst mental day of your life wouldn't you? Today of all days, how fucking selfish of you.

Especially with the amount of time and effort you and Kirishima had put into this idea. Since New Year's actually, months and months of planning after the two of you had gotten shit faced at Denki and Mina's new years party, creating the brain child. All after bonding over switching patrol partners six months before, you had gotten Bakugou and he had gotten Ashido. Kirishima and yourself giggle over stupid things to the side of the party, people watching as you took shots. Kirishima points towards a normally grumpy blonde.

"Wow I think he's actually having fun." You snort, as you watch Bakugou hide his rare cat smile behind a sip of his beer as Mina makes Denki the butt of a joke.

"He actually loves parties. He never says it so people just think he's a wet blanket." Kirishima laughs, pouring the two of you another shot. Bakugou lets out a particularly loud laugh after 'Dunce Face' proves Mina's point. I guess that would be the time that it started.

When you started to fall. His laugh makes your cheeks deepen in hue and burn, to want to hear it again, to watch it again and learn all of the other sides of your patrol partner that he obviously only reserved for his closest friends.

"Let's throw him a great birthday party." You say, holding up your shot as a devilish smile spreads over sharp teeth. The mountainous man clinks your shot glass before he adds.

"Let's." In unison the two of you down the burning liquid as the plan comes into fruition.

Four months, four months and nineteen days of you thinking of nothing but your patrol partner with whom you got extremely close with since New Year's. So why? Why today of all days were you struggling? Why would normal everyday tasks feel more as if you were wading through mud than the breeze they should have been? You flip down the visor, looking yourself in the eye through little square mirror as you grit your teeth hissing

"Get your shit together."

Your little pep talk helps you get the several cakes and the cart full of booze that everyone requested, planning to make this the best birthday ever. Helping Kirishima set his house up with decorations, setting out the snacks, catering and even pouring some drinks as guests began to arrive to set down their gifts and help with the last minute touches before hiding. Masking through the pit in your stomach as you smiled at all of your friends as they poured in through Kirishima's door. Through the weighted emptiness you felt as each one wrapped you into a tight hug, already praising you and Kirishima for the amazing effort, that Bakugou would be so surprised when it was more than just you and Kirishima here. . Finally you had to go and get the guest of honor just before sundown to catch him before he went to bed. A much needed breather from the constant smiling and forcing a laugh that everyone thought sounded genuine.

Enjoying the silence of the evening train as it pulled you across town to the unsuspecting blonde. And maybe you could have made it through the night from your shitty pep talk or at least through getting the freshly 28 year old to his party but instead you catch your reflection in the window. Your facial features weighted with exhaustion, shoulders hunched allowing your body to continue to produce cortisol. Tears prick your eyes as you deep low, too low. Remembering everything and nothing all at once, steeping in guilt as you beg yourself for just a few more hours. That the depression episode can happen when you're home and alone, after the party goes off without a hitch. Tears fall anyway and they do all the way to Bakugou's until you finally get enough control to step out of yourself for a moment. Ringing the doorbell several times as a smile is plastered on your face, the door swings open. Bakugou's eyes narrow as they take you in, he notices that something is off. Your smile is a little too wide, your eyes rimmed red but he says nothing about it. Instead he lets his initial anger come forth.

"Oi! I told you to fuckin' text me when you were on the train so I could meet you at the station!" He growls, slamming his door shut and pocketing his keys. Deadly and sweaty hands deep in the pockets of his leather jacket as his palms itch to hold onto something else. Garnet eyes track your own hands as you reach over your head stretching.

"Yea yea, I hear you Dad." You tease giving him a look, "I still made it okay."

"Kirishima should have come instead of you that fuckin hair for brains." He snarls keeping pace with you as he always does on patrol.

"I know Dad must be sad cause his favorite didn't come to pick him up." You try not to sound dejected, nudging him in the ribs to distract from the crack in your voice, "Happy birthday ya big lug."

Bakugou cuts you a glare, mind racing before his barks out a "Thanks."

Comfortable silence stretches between the two of you before you two hit the train station, passing a corner store.

"Was shitty hair burning dinner? Do I need to stop for back up?" His thumb hooks over his shoulder towards the neon as he stands idle waiting for you to jog your memory. Kirishima had burned the last friend's dinner making Bakugou so angry he walked six blocks to make something that was 'FUCKIN EDIBLE!' while you tried to air out his apartment. You laugh loudly, genuinely for the first time that day causing Bakugou's shoulders to sag with relief. In the ten months he had been working with you he had only seen you faking a smile or laugh once or twice. Then the time after that you were absent from work the next day or two forcing him to patrol with Denki but worse yet...making him worry.

"Guess I'll grab something just in case." He gave you his back so you wouldn't see his face or the faint blush that dusted his cheeks.

"No, no! I ordered out this time. From that famous chef you like." Bakugou glares your way, digging in his back pocket for his wallet.

"How much." He demands through gritted teeth while you show him the palms of your hands in surrender.

"Woah woah! It's your birthday gift! You can't pay me back for dinner! I'd sooner burn the money before I'd accept it from you!" Your watch dings with a message from Kirishima asking for an ETA. You grab onto Bakugou's hand pulling him along into a run as you shout over your shoulder.

"We're gonna be late!"

Oh how Bakugou wished you hadn't done that, he was already struggling to keep his heart beat even when you were around and now to grab onto him. To pull him along in a hurry like those cheesy insta posts that couples did on their "grand adventure" together. He swallows the lump in his throat as he reminds himself that you are nothing more than his patrol partner. His friend at best.

Even though the train was mostly empty Bakugou stood closely by you, as he always did when the two of you were in a crowded space. He had seen how most men took advantage of the situation and he hated the idea of that happening to you although he knew you were more than capable of handling it on your own. Hell you could kick even his ass but he would die before ever admitting that. Instead he watches you talk about what you ordered for dinner and how you got the cake from that bakery Sato works part time at, the same one he got your birthday cake from but he doesn't hear a word. Instead all he can see is the golden light from the setting sun worshiping you. Kissing your skin to make it glow, giving your eyes a hue that makes his heart fall into his stomach and illuminating you in a true light. A radiant ethereal thing is what you were and Bakugou was just lucky enough to be standing by you. So out of it he doesn't realize the two of you are at your stop.

"Uh Suki?" Your voice is soft paired with the setting sun has him acting weird. He leans closer to you, pulled by some invisible force before he stops himself as he watches you look up at him beneath long lashes.

"You okay?" You ask almost nervously from his proximity, the smell of spice and caramel wrap around you making you feel warm and fuzzy. Temporarily making you forget that you were trying to act on the train, making you relax as you just talked to Bakugou. He sucks his teeth as he picks up your bag to sling over his shoulder.

"Yea but you were gonna forget your whole damn purse like you always do." He huffs, this time he was the one pulling at your hand in a rush before the doors closed to trap you two on the train. His hand feels warm in yours, his grip tight as he drags you along before pulling you within his sight, another habit of his you happened to notice. Almost reluctantly he lets go of you hand as Kirishima's house comes into view.

"We better have a good time tonight patrol Princess or you owe me a special birthday gift." He laughs causing you to roll your eyes at his stupid nickname that stuck after your first day with him, adamant that the two of you take your route instead of his it was a huge argument. But it was a good thing he listened to the "princess", it put the two of you smack dab in the middle of a robbery. You stick out your tongue.

"Trust me. You're gonna have a good time!" You push him up the steps as he bats away your hands. Opening the front door before everyone jumps out of various and bad hiding spots.

"SURPRISE!!" All of the alumni of class A and some of B shout, a select few already slurring their words. Bakugou's scowl turns into a smirk before he looks over his shoulder at you.

"Aw you did this to me?" His voice is teasing but his eyes almost sparkle, you nod encouraging him to go deeper into the party. As he does people flock to him laughing and yelling out happy birthday until he's sick of hearing it. All the while your smile wanes with the night. Until an hour in that heavy episode hits you full force. Numbness setting in where happiness should be, rotting as it turns to shame and guilt as you watch your friend, your crush, enjoy his night. Bringing a glass bottle to his lips as he talks with Kirishima, who then presses a shot into his hands. Bodies dancing to the house music that beat out of the speakers competing with chatter and laughter.

It felt weird to watch everyone truly enjoying themselves while you felt low. It felt more as if you were standing outside of the house, looking in through the window to see everyone enjoying themselves, no one even knowing who you were as you stared in.

You felt distant, alone. What a shitty way to feel in a room full of people, none of it being their fault and so the guilt pressed harder. Eyes watering as they lingered on the blonde who deserved this celebration and more. Making you decide to give the best birthday gift of them all.

To slip away upstairs and onto the roof, to give the room space to breathe when you felt like suffocating.

Crying to no one but the moon.

And no one noticed. Two hours slip by before Kirishima insists that Bakugou make a wish and eat cake before everyone gets too drunk too. The entire house drunkenly sings happy birthday but Bakugou notices a voice missing. Yours that's just a touch off key, not to mention he didn't hear you say the stupid nickname 'Suki' where his name should be in the song. Plus you weren't one to miss out on dessert. For as long as Bakugou has been working with you, you never turned down the opportunity for sweets. Whether that was taking the long way back to the agency to try to catch a certain street vendor or to hover by the deserts at a party to pick the very best treat.

And if it was a birthday party, you never could shut up that y'all could not leave until after they blew out the candles and made a wish.

His eyes linger for a second longer, making sure he didn't miss you before his heart sinks. He takes in a sharp inhale, thinks on his wish and blows out the candles.

Meanwhile you hear the cheers of everyone down stairs and sob into your knees. You missed your favorite part of birthdays. Of hoping they make a wish that comes true, of watching their face as they think of something quickly or how some people tear up when they finally realize just how loved they are on their birthday.

It isn't long after that do you hear the sound of combat boots on shingles. Whipping your head up in the direction of the sound. Stomach clenching with guilt as you watch Bakugou walking towards you with a slice of cake.

"Brought ya some cake, since I didn't hear you sing off key to me." He says sinking down beside you as you furiously wipe at your tears.

"I'm-um."

"You don't gotta explain yourself to me." He snarls as you stare dumbly at your cake, "You know that."

"I know…" Silence passes slowly, the moon shines overhead and the party carries on below.

"Well, I'm waiting!" Bakugou says dramatically, "You gonna sing or am I gonna have to sing to myself?"

"Oh." It makes you giggle a bit before you blush, realizing he is serious. You take a deep breath before singing "just off key" when you don't, to him.

"Sukiiiiii!" Relief washes over his features when he hears the dumb ass name, "Happy birthday to youuuuuu!"

"Okay, now you can eat the damn cake." He grunts, his smile never wavering as he looks to the empty street below. You follow his eyes, chewing the inside of your lip, setting the cake down.

"What'd you wish for…" Curiosity gets the better of you and earns his intense gaze. He smirks, scoffing at the end.

"You always say you shouldn't tell or it won't come true." He laughs at your pout, before he finally admits "I wished for courage."

With a furrowed brow you give him a puzzled look, he just holds your gaze.

"Why? You're like the bravest hero I know!" Bakugou can hear the truth in your voice, you aren't saying it just to fucking stroke his ego.

You actually meant it, making this conversation that much harder.

"Yea except when it comes to this one thing I want to do. Its fuckin easy and I've done it hundreds of times just as I'm about to do it I fucking back down cause I'm probably fuckin reading into things too much." He leans in closer, again his smell mesmerizes you, causing your body to visibly relax, "Too much of a fuckin bitch, thinking she doesn't want me like I want her. So I wished for the courage to follow through. To fuckin' just do it."

Your heart is racing out of your chest before one of his hands finds the nape of your neck pulling you into a feverish kiss. Teeth gnashing from the passion, lips perfectly modeling to the other before tongues lightly dance around one another. Lengthening seconds into hours with just a few head tilts and plush lips. You moan into his mouth, he pulls away, eyes clouded with lust as a string of spit connects your tongues. He pants, face flushed and his hand warm, almost burning at the nape of your neck, the shingle by his hand charred from restraint as he pants out.

"I wished for you."

#bakugou x reader #bakugou birthday bash #bnha x reader #bakugo x reader #bnha au #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo #bnha imagine #bakugou birthday

[steddie-there]

The beginning of a Steddie fix-it fic I'm working on, tentatively called Holding Out For a Hero (ETA: new name - I'd Fall For You Twice)

Steve had acted on instinct. After the quake, he, Robin, and Nancy had raced back to the gate, running as if a pack of demodogs were on their tail, terrified of what they might find there. The reality was so much worse. Spying Dustin in that hellish red light, curled over the broken body on the ground, time seemed to slow to a crawl and Steve's brain went on autopilot. He barely remembers changing course, dropping to his knees beside Eddie, scanning his unmoving form for the worst of the injuries, shoving his jacket into Dustin's hands, pressing those same young - too young - hands to a large, still sluggishly seeping wound in Eddie's side. But each moment after that is preserved in picture perfect clarity - his hands so desperately pushing against Eddie's chest he's sure he feels at least one rib break, pinching shut Eddie's nose and blowing air raspily, forcefully, into his mouth, willing the other boy to just breathe

"Goddamnit, breathe!"

He remembers long minutes of nothing, not even sound. Of Robin and Nancy looking on with lips pressed into thin lines and arms wrapped together, as if holding onto each other could somehow preserve the life slipping away into the dust of the Upside Down. Of Dustin's hand landing on his shoulder, trying to tell him it was okay, they should stop, it was over, they needed to go. But he shrugged it off, kept pushing and breathing and

A flutter. Barely there, but he could feel it when he held his ear over Eddie's mouth, like the first breath of spring after winter. And then, thin and thready, but there, a beat in his wrist and Steve was moving again, gathering Eddie into his arms and racing for the gate.

He'll never be sure how he got Eddie out of there or to the hospital.

But he knows he did because the next time he's aware enough to take in his surroundings, he's sitting in the waiting room, Henderson slumped against his shoulder with a brace on his ankle, Nancy and Robin sitting opposite them, also slumped together. The Sinclairs are there, too, and Steve's heart drops. He almost asks, but Erica is quietly rubbing circles into her brother's shoulder and Steve has never seen Lucas so distraught, so he decides maybe now isn't the time and sinks back into the hard hospital chair.

He closes his eyes and time seems to become a bit wobbly. He's not sure how many minutes, hours, days pass as he sits there. At one point, Dustin gets up, says he's going to the vending machine, asks if anyone wants anything. Nancy and Robin murmur an affirmative, Erica says to bring something for her and Lucas, too, but Steve just shakes his head. Even the idea of food has his stomach rolling.

But, Henderson being Henderson, he comes back with a bottle of water to shove into Steve's hands.

"At least drink something, man. You look like you need it."

So Steve does, takes small sips and, Dustin's right, he does need it, the liquid soothingly cool as it goes down his throat. But he can only handle a few swallows, the water sitting heavy and cold in his stomach. He twists the cap back on and sets the bottle down by his chair, closing his eyes as time seems to disappear again.

#steddie #holding out for a hero #havent been great about finishing what i start writing lately but i have *plans* for this fic #so fingers crossed #my fic #stranger things #ETA: new name is I'd Fall For You Twice #i'd fall for you twice

[steddie-there]

As promised, the Dancing in the Dark scene from the middle of Holding Out For a Hero (name still subject to change, depending on the way the story takes me - it's had some surprises already 😅). The pov changes after the first paragraph from Steve to Eddie because apparently this story is demanding I write from both perspectives, never mind that only using Steve's pov as originally intended would be easier, so just know the whole story will bounce between them.

ETA: new name - I'd Fall For You Twice

Dancing in the Dark

When the last of the gremlins has finally been shooed out the front door, Steve pushes it shut and leans against it for a moment with a sigh. As much as he loves the little munchkins, they can be a lot to handle, especially when attempting to make sure they don’t overwhelm a still recovering houseguest only recently released from the hospital. Running a hand through his hair, Steve straightens and heads back to the living room. He finds Eddie still sitting on the couch where they left him, though now with legs stretched out and headphones firmly against his ears, drawing something in the notebook Wayne had brought to him in the hospital. And although there’s a space at the end of the couch, Steve gently lifts Eddie’s legs so he can sit closer, then pulls them back over his lap, feeling some of the exhaustion ease as he settles in under their weight. He’s about to lean over and ask if he can see what Eddie’s working on when a tinny but unmistakable guitar riff echoing from the headphones catches his attention. He freezes.

Just at that moment, Eddie looks up, some quip about the kids on the tip of his tongue. But when he sees the way Steve is sitting, shoulders up around his ears and breathing shallow, concern immediately replaces whatever witty thing he was about to say. He pulls the headphones down around his neck. “Steve… you okay?”

Steve slowly turns his head to look at him, eyes wide, and, though he’s confused what exactly brought it on, Eddie wants nothing more than to make the panic in them disappear. “Steve?” he asks again, softly, this time laying a gentle hand on the other boy’s arm, and Steve grips onto it like a lifeline.

“That song. That’s, uh, what you played. There. In the…” he trails off.

Eddie’s brow furrows momentarily before it registers just what he’s been listening to. He’s surprised Steve recognizes it and says as much.

Steve swallows thickly. “Kind of hard to forget. We could hear your playing all the way to the Creel house. It was - it was really good, man.” He tries to smile as he says it, but it’s all wrong, doesn’t reach his eyes, and Eddie scoots a little closer, reaches for him with his other hand, still unsure what, exactly, has caused Steve to look like the world is ending again.

Steve’s breathing is still too fast, too shallow. “Don’t think I’ll ever forget it. Those bats, heading for you and Dustin. Knowing I couldn’t go back to help, we just had to keep moving. And then, when it was all over - “ He cuts himself off, lips pressing into a thin line, squeezing his eyes shut.

And suddenly, Eddie gets it. “Shit,” he curses, scrambling one handed for the pause button on the walkman. His finger fumbles over it once, twice, before he finally manages to press it down, cutting off the rhythmic chords leaking from the headphones. Silence blankets the room.

He looks back to Steve. Though he’s still hunched in on himself, his breathing started to slow the instant the music stopped and Eddie sighs in relief. He pulls the headphones off his neck and carefully sets them, the walkman, and his notebook on the floor before swinging his legs down so he can actually slide close enough to Steve to put an arm around him. Without hesitation, Steve turns into the embrace, leaning his forehead on Eddie’s shoulder with a little shuddering exhale. It makes Eddie want to pull him in even closer, hold Steve as tight as he can, until every bit of tension has drained from his body, but he doesn't want to do anything to make his friend uncomfortable, so settles for gently rubbing his back instead.

“I’m so sorry, man, I didn’t even - I forgot it was on that tape and I just kind of tuned everything out and - shit, Steve, I’m sorry,” Eddie rambles.

But Steve is already shaking his head. “No, no, you have nothing to apologize for. You were just doing your thing, I’m the one who - I should be apologizing to you, freaking out like that, over a song, like - that’s crazy, you know? It’s not like the song is what - is what - ” he cuts off, unable to finish the thought.

Eddie can feel Steve tensing further as he speaks, feel him beginning to pull away, but he is having none of that. Screw it. With a surge forward, he wraps both arms around Steve and tugs him tightly to his chest. With a little surprised oof, Steve falls forward again and, for a heartbeat, he's stiff, like he doesn't quite know what to do with this new position. But it's only a moment before his arms come up and he's clinging right back, his hands clutching fistfuls of Eddie's shirt like he's afraid the other boy will disappear if he lets go.

Eddie holds him, runs gentle fingers through his hair, until Steve's shoulders stop shaking and his breathing has finally, finally, evened out. And then he keeps holding him because Steve hasn't moved away and if he still needs Eddie's arms around him, then by god that's what he's going to get. He feels a huff of air against his shoulder as Steve turns his face into the crook of Eddie’s neck, tightens his hold.

"I'm sorry, Eddie," Steve whispers, voice tight, and he thinks Steve might be apologizing for more than his panic attack.

But Eddie is shaking his head before Steve can get to the second syllable of sorry. "Don't be. I get it, man. The little reminders, they're all over. And it's the worst. I let myself get too cold and I start having a hard time breathing. I look at your neck and all I can think is what if we didn't get through the gate in time. I get it," he says again.

This time, when Steve pulls back, Eddie lets him go, though he doesn’t go far, since he's still sitting pressed to his side.

Steve props his elbows on his knees and hangs his head for a moment before speaking again. "Still, I mean, it's just a song. It shouldn't -"

"But it isn't just a song, Steve, and you and I both know it," Eddie cuts him off emphatically. “I’m gonna burn that tape, first chance I get. Promise.”

Steve just sighs and hangs his head even further. They sit in dejected silence for a few moments, but Eddie can't take it anymore - Steve shouldn't be beating himself up about this, should be smiling, relaxing, laughing with Eddie about the dumb puns Dustin made at dinner. He glances around the room for anything that might help, but there isn't much, just the tv and some photographs and unused furniture and - aha! - his eyes catch on the radio in the corner and he suddenly knows exactly what to do to get Steve out of this spiral of self-recrimination.

Eddie jumps up and that gets Steve's attention. "Eddie, wha-? You need to sit down, you're still not supposed to be too active."

"Some of those restrictions ended today, I’ll be fine," he shoots back over his shoulder as he fiddles with the dial on the radio, looking for the local station Steve listens to in his car. He finally gets it tuned correctly, noting that it's just the DJ talking for now, but it sounds like another song will be starting soon. Perfect. He whips back around and makes his way to stand in front of Steve, hands held out in invitation. "Now, c'mon, I know just what we need. A little dance therapy will fix everything," he gushes, knowing Steve finds it impossible not to laugh at his theatrics.

Sure enough, a hint of a smile is beginning to play around Steve's lips as he looks up at Eddie. "Dance therapy?" he asks skeptically, but he's already taking Eddie's outstretched hands and allowing himself to be tugged off the couch.

"Dance therapy," Eddie confirms with a grin. "Maybe a little karaoke, too. Some lip-syncing. Whatever floats your boat, big boy." He winks and Steve snorts a laugh.

“You’re such a dork, Eddie,” he says, but the utter fondness in his voice takes any sting out of his words.

Eddie acts mock offended anyway, holding a hand dramatically over his heart as he pulls Steve further into the empty middle of the living room. “Me? A dork?” he gasps, then grins. “You know what? You’re right. But you love it,” he smirks, poking Steve’s chest with a finger.

Steve is smirking now, too, about to make some clever comeback, when the opening bars of Dancing in the Dark spill out into the room. His smile grows, real now, his eyes widening as he starts bopping his head. “Dude, I love this song!”

“Then come on, Harrington, let’s do this!” Eddie beams at him, starting to jump up and down to the rhythm. Steve shakes his head at him, but he’s wearing his thousand-watt smile, finally, and he’s beginning to jump along and Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever looked so beautiful. And when he starts to sing, “Messages keeps gettin' clearer, Radio's on and I'm movin' 'round my place, I check my look in the mirror,” squeezing his eyes shut and belting out, “Wanna change my clothes, my hair, my face,” Eddie is absolutely mesmerized.

He’s still holding one of Steve’s hands, but he reaches for the other one so they can jump and twist together. And then Steve starts spinning him and Eddie’s hair is flying around his face and they’re both breathless with laughter and singing and dancing and Eddie thinks maybe he could live in this moment for the rest of his life.

Too soon, the song begins to slow and fade, each “dancin’ in the dark” softer than the one before. Their movements become less and less until they’re just barely nodding their heads along and Eddie realizes exactly how close they’ve moved to each other. If he wanted to, he could count each individual eyelash ringing Steve’s wide, honey brown eyes, and now he’s breathless from more than just exertion. When he licks his lips nervously and Steve’s eyes dart down to his mouth then back up, Eddie can feel hysterical giggles starting to bubble up in the back of his throat. This cannot be happening. I’ve gone insane, finally, truly lost it. But he can’t let it out, can’t make a sound, because then Steve might realize exactly what he’s doing, might stop looking at him like that and Eddie doesn’t think he could bear that, could deal with Steve pulling away, could handle losing - 

“Can I kiss you?”

It’s no more than a whisper, Steve’s words as breathless and unsure as Eddie feels. And dammit but Steve has knocked him for a loop again, doing exactly the thing that Eddie least expects him to do. He’s frozen, staring at Steve, hopeful, beautiful Steve, who is staring back like Eddie is the only important thing in the entire world.

“Eddie?” Steve asks, the tiniest quiver in his voice, and Eddie can finally move again, nods frantically until Steve puts a gentle hand to his cheek, stilling him. And then Steve is moving forward, both their eyes slipping shut, and Steve’s lips are on his and Eddie doesn’t think anything has ever felt so right in his entire life.

It’s soft and sweet and one of Steve’s hands is tangled in his hair and the other is on his back, drawing him closer and his whole world has narrowed to the single bright point in the universe that is Steve Harrington. Eddie wouldn’t be surprised to open his eyes and see the entire room lit up like a blazing summer afternoon.

Slowly, Steve pulls back, breaking the kiss, but not drawing away. If it’s possible, he’s holding Eddie even tighter than during his panic attack earlier, as if letting go might shatter this little bubble of happiness they’ve found themselves in.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” Steve confesses softly, pressing his forehead to Eddie’s.

Eddie huffs a laugh. “Probably at least as long as I’ve wanted you to,” he confesses back.

The moment is delicate and hopeful and Eddie never wants it to end. So of course his doubts choose exactly then to come knocking. He tries to push them away, to keep basking in the warmth of their embrace, but he hears himself asking, almost fearfully, “So, uh - this. Us. We, uh, we gonna be a thing now, Stevie?” And his heart is pounding so loud that he's certain Steve could hear it from across the room, never mind with Eddie nearly in his lap.

Steve leans back just a little, just far enough to gaze earnestly into Eddie’s eyes.  “I want us to be. If - if you want, that is.”

And there’s that trademark Steve Harrington knock-him-for-a-loop routine again. Because despite Steve’s normal self-assurance, the tiniest quaver of doubt is tucked into his words and that, more than anything, soothes the million what ifs swirling through Eddie’s brain. He grins. “I want. Oh, do I want.”

Steve’s answering smile is dazzling and Eddie doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of being the reason for it. “Cool,” Steve declares, before he’s leaning into Eddie’s space again and making him melt all over.

Okay, there it is for now, folks. Only one, albeit lengthy, scene. But believe me, I have a lot more running circles in my brain. 😅

Also had a couple people ask to be tagged when I finished Holding Out for a Hero - not sure if I should tag them in this, since it's just a preview scene and not the finished product, but I'm gonna. I'm proud of this bit here 😅

@my-heart-is-stopped, @wonderland-girl143-blog

Also gonna tag my roomie @steddiehawkins because I gotta ensure the Steddie brainrot stays, heh, steady in my home (I'll see myself out)

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #holding out for a hero #ngl i'm a little nervous to post this #been a while since anyone actually paid attention to my writing outside a few select friends #my fic #ETA: new name is I'd Fall For You Twice #i'd fall for you twice

[steddie-there]

A small snippet of Holding Out For a Hero (my Steddie fix-it, which has now reached 8000 words and doesn't appear to be slowing down 😅) ((ETA: new name - I'd Fall For You Twice))

"So, uh, you need anything else?" Steve asks, lingering by Eddie's bed.

"Nah, I think I'm good, man. Got something to do now, after all," Eddie replies, holding up the book Uncle Wayne had brought. "So, uh, if you've got somewhere you need to be…"

"Are - are you sure? Cuz I could stay. You know. If you - if you need."

Eddie has never heard Steve sound so hesitant. But, as much as he'd like Steve to stay, as much as he doesn't want to be alone, he also doesn't want to be a bother. Despite everything Steve has done in the last few weeks for him and Uncle Wayne, or maybe because of it, Eddie can't quite shake the feeling that Steve is only here out of a sense of obligation. That Eddie is just another one of the people Steve feels responsible for, like Dustin or Max or Erica. And Eddie can't bring himself to add more to that already overfilled plate.

"You really don't need to waste your time here, dude. I'll be okay, promise."

"Oh. Okay. Yeah, Um, I'll get out of your hair, then." Steve stands and slowly gathers his things. Eddie bites down on the inside of his lip, determined not to be just one more duty for Steve.

But watching him walk to the door, a distinct slump to his shoulders, does something to Eddie's heart. A sort of looping clench and Eddie can't stop himself from saying, "Steve, wait."

He stops in the doorway, but doesn't turn around. "Yeah?"

"You know, it's actually kind of hard to read with these bandages on my face. Do you think - could you maybe read to me?"

It's bullshit and he knows it's bullshit and he's positive Steve knows it's bullshit, too. But Steve is already pulling the chair closer and pulling the book from Eddie's unresisting grasp. He looks at the cover for a minute.

"Is this that nerd shit Henderson is always going on about?"

Eddie is already regretting his momentary lapse in judgment. "Actually, never mind. I'll be fine," he says, annoyance leaking into his tone as he reaches for the book again.

But Steve pulls it closer to himself with a placating, "Sorry, sorry. I didn't mean it that way. I just - this is that book, right? The - the Mordor one?"

Eddie makes a face at Steve, but subsides, leaning back against his pillows. "Sort of?" he answers. "It's a prequel to those ones. Happens before them. If you like this one, we can always read those, too." He grins.

Steve shoots him a look, but the smile pulling at the corners of his mouth softens it. He opens the book and begins reading aloud. "In a hole in the ground, there lived a hobbit…"

#steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #holding out for a hero #my fic #steve reads the hobbit to eddie in the hospital and ends up actually really loving tolkien's stories #ETA: new name is I'd Fall For You Twice #i'd fall for you twice

[steddie-there]

Just another bit of my Steddie wip Holding Out for a Hero (ETA: new name - I'd Fall For You Twice). It rapidly got away from me, as this particular story has been wont to do 😅 (over 18,000 words and counting!)

Eddie’s curled up on the couch in the living room, afternoon sunlight slanting warm across his shoulders and onto the notebook on his lap. He’s sketching a new tattoo design, a baseball bat studded with nails surrounded by winding vines and a fucked up monster bat. Steve’s quiet steps shuffle into the room and Eddie raises his cheek for a kiss but doesn’t look up from his work. There’s a moment of nothing and Eddie smirks, knowing Steve is rolling his eyes, but then he feels the press of lips against his skin and he sighs happily.

Steve settles next to him on the couch and it’s quiet for a while.

“Hey, Eds, I, uh, I have something for you.” There’s something about the way Steve says it, the uncharacteristic nervousness, that has Eddie tearing his eyes from his notebook and focusing on his boyfriend.

Steve is holding his hand out toward him, fist clasped tightly around something Eddie can’t see. He tilts his head sideways, studying the outstretched hand before he meets Steve’s eyes, questioning.

“Oh, come on, just hold out your hand. It’s not anything weird, I promise,” Steve says, rolling his eyes, any hint of nerves gone now.

Eddie has to bite back a giggle because, out of the two of them, Steve is not the one who drops weird things into people’s hands. No, that would be Eddie. Like two days ago, when he caught and handed Steve a tiny frog while they were walking through the woods behind Loch Nora. Or the leaf with a ladybug crawling across it a few days before that.

So he holds out his hand, palm up, and blinks when something silvery plinks into it. Then blinks again as he stares at the item now resting in his palm. His eyes widen.

It’s a ring. A class ring. Steve’s class ring.

Eddie blinks. Blinks again. The inside of his chest has gone all fluttery and his breath hitches a little and, as usual, the soft squeeze to his heart melts the connection between his brain and his mouth.

“Isn’t it a little early in our relationship for rings, Stevie?”

Steve opens his mouth. Closes it. “I - no, that’s - that’s not what I - I just wanted you to have something of mine! I thought, you know, this might - work. The best. With your - your style,” he babbles, gesturing to Eddie’s multitude of rings.

There’s that squeeze to his heart again. Not just because of the gift and the thought that went into it, but because a flustered Steve is an adorable Steve. And a very teaseable Steve.

“Why, Steve Harrington, are you asking me to go steady?” Eddie asks, mischief in his tone as he bats his eyes playfully up at Steve.

“Eddie!” Steve splutters, blush spreading up his cheeks. “You know what, never mind, I’ll just take it back, clearly this was a bad - “ he reaches for the ring as he speaks, but Eddie clutches it to his chest possessively.

“Nope, this is mine now. No take backs. You’re stuck with me now, whether you like it or not.”

It has the desired effect of making Steve snort a laugh and murmur, “That’s why I gave it to you, ya dork,” as he runs a hand through his hair.

They’re quiet for a moment, Eddie turning the ring this way and that, admiring the way the clear stone set in the middle catches the light, Steve watching and pretending he isn’t still feeling a little self-conscious.

Finally, Eddie glances up at Steve from under his lashes. “Put it on me?” he asks, uncharacteristically shy, as he tentatively holds out the ring.

Steve smiles, the one that lights up his whole face, that makes Eddie feel like he’s looking directly into the sun. He takes the ring and Eddie’s right hand and slips the band onto the middle finger. Then he brings Eddie’s hand to his lips, presses a kiss to the ring, and oh Eddie might actually combust now.

He tugs a lock of hair over his mouth, trying to hide the blush he can feel rising up his neck. But Steve just grins knowingly. With one last, lingering press of his lips to Eddie's hand, he drops it in favor of gently tucking Eddie's riot of curls behind his ears, even the one he's trying to hide behind.

"There you are," he murmurs, eyes locked with Eddie's. He gently cups Eddie's cheeks, runs his thumbs across the skin under his eyes like there’s something precious there, like Eddie is something precious. And all Eddie can do is stare into those honeyed eyes, his lips parted and heartbeat kicking up more than a few notches.

Steve’s grin turns soft and he presses a gentle kiss to Eddie’s lips before leaning their foreheads together. Eddie’s eyes slip closed, needing that illusory barrier to settle his jumping pulse. It still all feels so new, is so new, but that’s not what has his breath catching in his throat. Because, despite the newness and despite the fact that it is still totally incomprehensible that Steve wants Eddie, of all people, he can’t deny how right it feels to sit so close to Steve that their breath is mingling and their hearts are beating in sync.

For just a moment, Eddie can see them in his mind’s eye, sitting exactly like this - but they’re older, gray in their hair, crow’s feet at the corners of their eyes, and laugh lines framing their mouths - and he wants so desperately that he doesn’t even think before he’s pulling back, hands going up to his neck.

Steve frowns, a question forming on his lips, but then Eddie is yanking the chain with his guitar pick over his head and holding it out to Steve. He swallows, takes a breath. “I want you to have something, too. Something of mine.” Something of me, he doesn’t say, but it’s there between them anyway.

And now it’s Steve’s turn to just stare for a moment, for his breath to stutter in his chest. He gingerly takes the pick from Eddie’s fingers, holding it like it’s made of crystal and not just plastic, and slips the chain over his own head. 

“This is the one that you used in -” he starts to ask, voice hushed.

“In the Upside Down, yeah,” Eddie answers, just as softly.

With quiet reverence, Steve runs his fingers along the smooth edge, then just brings the pick up to his lips and holds it there for a moment, his eyes distant.

That squeezing sensation seems to have taken up permanent residence in Eddie’s chest. He can’t take his eyes from Steve and he knows if he opens his mouth now, he’ll say something wrong or crazy or too soon, too fast. Something like I love you or marry me or I wish I could climb inside you and live there forever. But he’s also terrible at stopping himself from doing anything, so he opens his mouth

and laughs.

Immediately, he claps his hands over his mouth because he didn’t mean to do that, it’s precisely the wrong reaction to the most romantic moment he’s ever experienced in his entire life. Even saying “I love you” would have been better than this. Because he’s laughing and Steve is looking up at him with a flash of something in his eyes and his shoulders are shaking and oh dear god, I’ve completely fucked this up, haven’t I? and if he could bury himself in the couch cushions he would, because he cannot handle the hurt he knows he’ll see in every line of Steve’s body, because Steve is… Steve is laughing, too.

Steve is laughing, too?

Eddie stares at the other boy, at his mouth stretched wide around his laughter, his face lit up with relief and mirth and joy and love and sheer astonishment - all the emotions Eddie feels swirling in his own burst of laughter. And then he’s laughing again, too, and they’re leaning into each other, giggles spilling past their lips even as they press them together and cling to each other’s shoulders to stay upright.

They laugh until their stomachs hurt and then keep laughing, quiet giggles escaping every so often as they kiss and hold and breathe each other in. They’re so immersed that they don’t even hear the front door open or Robin’s voice calling to them from the entryway. They don’t notice her step into the room and stop and stare at the manic picture they make. They have absolutely no clue she’s even there until she says, “Hold up, are you two high?”

They look up at her, blinking like deer in the headlights, before Steve catches Eddie’s eye and they dissolve back into gales of laughter.

“You two are so weird,” Robin mutters, dropping her bag on the coffee table and heading for the kitchen. If she has to deal with them the way they are right now, she needs a snack.

#steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #my fic #holding out for a hero #<- it's about fifty fifty at this point that i won't be keeping that name #this fic is running itself at this point and its not going quite the way i originally envisioned 😅 #but that's okay because the direction it's taking itself is working for me #also i am so terribly soft for my ships exchanging rings or necklaces or some symbol of them belonging together #it's about each of them having a little piece of the other to remind them how loved they are #and it's beautiful #and eddie is definitely the kind of person who reacts in unexpected ways when he's overwhelmed with emotion #thus the laughter #but steve gets it and he loves it about eddie and i really hope that comes through here #ETA: new title is I'd Fall For You Twice #i'd fall for you twice