#feat stobin

[slowandsteddie]

Y’all voted on this.

“Hey there, big guy.” / “You aren’t Eddie.”

I was really really excited to write this, honestly.

It is VERY important that you read the CW on this one.

I might be working through some things I personally went through on this one, so it’s… darker than I’d normally go.

CW: Steve is drugged, very heavily implied sexual assault (maybe skip the pink font?), ptsd, mention of bad parents, drinking as a coping mechanism, underage drinking, bartender looks like Billy (isn’t btw), very brief mention of Billy’s death, mentions of drugs, mentions of weed

Lots of hurt and little comfort.

Parts of this feel kinda rushed to me, and there’s one part where that is on purpose. But, uh. Not a fan of the ending of this bc it’s late and I’m sleepy. But also I don’t wanna edit this or dwell on it or it won’t get posted at all. So. This is where we are.

Potential for a part two.

2536 words.

—

After the night that Nancy called their relationship bullshit, Steve had sworn off alcohol and any drug stronger than the weed he used to help himself sleep when he was home alone. And he had been able to stick to it, too.

Until Starcourt.

When he had nearly been killed by Russians, confessed his love to a lesbian (while he, himself was mostly gay), and saw Billy Hargrove murdered by some thing from the Upside Down.

Yeah, life was pretty fucked up. And if he found solace at the bottom of a bottle, that was his problem.

No one but Robin needed to know. That girl was his Platonic soulmate and she got to know practically everything. Hell, he had lost track of how many times they had slept in the same bed, just so they could know the other was still breathing. They clung so tight to each other that it was like they were trying to nestle into rib cages and grasp onto bones so that they couldn’t be ripped apart again.

It helped with the nightmares and the panic to have someone so close to him who understood. Someone who knew what he went through without him having to explain it. Someone who knew that the fire cover up was complete shit. Someone who wasn’t a kid that he had to protect and hide his pain from.

Don’t get him wrong, he loved those kids. He would die for them. He’d kill for them. He’d wreck the beautiful car of his dreams for them. He’d even pretend to be okay for them, no matter what. But he could never confide in them. Not about what he went through. Not the way he could with Robin.

The thing about trauma bonding with someone is that there doesn’t have to be secrets. They already knew the worst thing that you have been through, so everything else would be a cakewalk by comparison.

During the day, it was easy to be goofy and laugh and hide the fact that he had been through absolute hell. But at night, everything came back to him. Him screaming that he just worked for Scoops and not being believed. Him offering free ice cream for life, just to get out of there.

Offering his body when that didn’t work because he didn’t have anything else and he knew his parents wouldn’t pay a ransom, even if the Russians had decided to try that route. And if they took him up on that offer, no one had to know. He didn’t even have to know. He could just pretend that the drugs took those memories too and not think about it.

The night time was what had him drinking again. The sun would start setting and he’d find himself reaching for that bottle, as though he needed it as desperately as he needed air and open spaces.

Even when Robin was over, he couldn’t close the door before taking a shower. Though, that didn’t matter much, when she’d go sit on the toilet and talk to him, with nothing but a curtain between them as the water poured over him and he sobbed as silently as he could while he cleaned himself and she chatted away about some random thing that he couldn’t follow, no matter how hard he tried. On particularly bad nights, Robin would find him in the shower, and wearing his t-shirt and shorts, she would help him wash his hair, his body, while he could only lean against the wall, feeling as though he would shake himself apart.

But, he needed to get better. He couldn’t be a mess forever. He couldn’t rely on his best friend always being available to help him through the rough patches. Most people would see the therapist recommended to them after going through things like The Upside Down and days of torture at the hands of Russians in a base under the mall that they used to work in.

Not Steve.

Oh, no.

That made too much sense.

Instead of therapy, he decided that going to a gay club in Indy would be a great idea. It had been long enough that his injuries had turned to scars. Sure, his ears rang a lot and sometimes his vision went a little fuzzy if he turned his head too fast, but he was fine. Really.

He had called and told Robin where he’d be. He didn’t need her panicking because she went to his house and he wasn’t there. He also called Henderson, just to make sure one of the kids knew he wasn’t home. They all talked constantly so the message would get around.

Just because he was stupid, didn’t mean he was irresponsible.

Steve was dressed in his favorite jeans, the ones that made his ass look nice, and a yellow polo. He didn’t really have many options in terms of shirts because it was almost time to do laundry again. He hated the washer though, as he still had times when his ribs panged when he tried to lean over too far. With that stupid washer, he always had to lean too far. There was no other way to make sure he got everything out of it.

He took the time to style his hair properly, even when the effort made his arms shake and the muscles in his hands and wrists spasm. Being tortured had some lasting effects and it was annoying. He was so tired of it. Tired of being forced to remember what he went through, even while doing the most mundane things.

He flipped the collar on his shirt up to try and make sure that the scars on his neck weren’t too obvious at first glance. That was as good as it was going to get as he refused to wear makeup to cover it up.

Then, he walked out to his car after locking the front door. Here goes nothing. He slid into the car that he hadn’t actually driven in a few weeks and started her up. She purred as though it was only yesterday that she was last turned on.

Steve mouthed the directions to himself before buckling up, turning on the radio, and beginning the drive.

Time passed, though he wasn’t sure how much of it. But he did get to the club without incident. He parked his car and locked the door before putting the keys in his pocket.

His favorite thing about this place was that they didn’t ID, something that he remembered from when he had came here before Starcourt. He had just wanted to dance with fellow queers. The first few times that he was here, he had been given water when he went to the bar.

He was glad to find that this time the bartender asked him what he’d be drinking. He was glad that the blond with curly hair and a charming smile didn’t even bat an eye over his request for a shot of whiskey, and just poured the drink.

“First one’s on the house.” God, even his voice was charming.

“Thank you,” Steve replied gratefully.

He threw the drink back and didn’t even make a face over it. The familiar, warm burn of the alcohol was a welcome one.

“How much for the second?” He asked, a slight smile tugging at his lips.

“For you? A dollar a shot.”

Steve placed a 10 dollar bill down. “One shot and one mixed drink that would leave you with what you consider an acceptable tip.”

“Yessir,” the bartender replied with a smile.

It wasn’t fair that the older male had ocean eyes he could get lost in.

Steve took the shot like nothing again, running a hand through his hair. He thanked the bartender, again, before taking his mixed drink and moving to the dance floor.

He was having fun. There were a lot of people and loud music and he had some liquid courage that was also helping to keep his chronic pain under control. After a few songs, he finished his drink before going to take his glass to the bar.

He was dizzy, but he just assumed that was from turning his head too fast a few minutes ago when someone started dancing behind him. He told himself that it had just been because he wanted to know if the guy pressing against his back was cute or not. (He was.)

Steve’s thoughts were incoherent, but he had moments when his brain didn’t seem to work right, especially when he was under the influence. It was his new normal ever since his brain had been starved of oxygen. But he couldn’t think about that again. Not now.

He asked the bartender for water, noticing the name tag this time. Billy. Oh, the painful irony.

He drank it down pretty fast, fully intending to thank him for it after. But then there was an arm around his shoulder and he was moving on to help someone on the other side of the bar.

“Hey there, big guy,” the other male said while squeezing his shoulder.

“You aren’t Eddie,” he said stupidly. It was in that moment that Steve realized who he had a crush on, but that wasn’t important right now.

“I can be whoever you want me to be, handsome.”

Steve pulled away. “I’m sorry, but no. You really can’t.”

“Okay, I’m sorry. That was a bad joke. Eddie sent me to take you home.”

“He wouldn’t have sent anyone to get me.” He said defiantly. “He’d come himself,” he added to cover up whatever he had said.

The world was spinning worse and he turned to walk to the bathroom. He was being followed and he knew it, but what other choice did he have?

By the time Steve got to the bathroom, he was mostly out of it. But, he got flashes.

—

The door being locked behind them.

His pants being unbuttoned.

Trying to struggle but it was just so hard to lift his arms.

Being shoved against the counter.

Heavy breathing in his ear.

Pain.

Sliding down.

Curling into a ball.

Clutching his own shirt.

Eddie.

Eddie.

Eddie.

—

When Steve woke up again, the first thing he noticed was that he was in the trailer. The second thing he noticed was that he felt like shit. Everything hurt more than it should for just a hangover, and he didn’t even want to think about why his hips and thighs felt the way they did.

He tried to sit up, groaning over the effort before letting himself lay back down on the couch. The toilet flushed, the water ran, and then there were footsteps coming back toward him. He didn’t know why he flinched and tried to hide in the blanket he had over him, but he did.

“Hey there, big boy,” Eddie said softly.

Steve whimpered. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t like being called that anymore. It was something that the older male had called him ever since they started getting friendly. Ever since he had started buying weed from him.

“Wanna talk about it, Steve?” He added.

He shook his head.

“Why’d the bartender call me when he found you instead of Robin? Don’t get me wrong, I’m flattered that you thought I was safe.”

“I don’t know. Was kinda falling apart. I guess I wanted drugs more than…”

“More than your girlfriend?”

Steve snorted. “She’s my Platonic soulmate. Capital P. Not my girlfriend.”

Eddie tilted his head. “Want me to call the soulmate?”

Steve shook his head quickly before groaning and holding his temples. “My car?” He croaked.

“I took Jeff with me to pick you up. He drove ‘er back. Your car is in my driveway, safe and sound.”

Steve made a sound and let his eyes close.

“Steve. I’m not going to make any choices for you. But you were assaulted. The only reason that bartender didn’t call the police was that he didn’t want to out you.”

His eyes fluttered. “That… that explains it.” His body chose that moment to let him pass out again.

When he was conscious again, he was still on Eddie’s couch. He could hear the other male talking on the phone. He did his best to pretend that he was still asleep. But he was crying and the sniffling gave him away.

“Hey man, do you want Robin to come here?”

“No,” he said too quickly. “I just… I need a bit to comprehend. Tell her an hour, yeah? Then I’ll go with her and get out of your hair.”

Eddie relayed the message and hung up.

“He drugged me. But I still knew what was up. He flirted with me, but I wasn’t interested. I said he wasn’t you as though I had some kind of right to want it to be you who was flirting, man. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” Of course it was only the apology that Eddie picked up on.

“Because I have no right to have a crush on you after how I treated you. Because I have no right to tell you that I have a crush on you after what happened to me.”

“If that’s how you feel, then I have no right to tell you that the feeling is mutual and that I have every intention of finding the guy who did this to you and making him pay. I have no right to feel so possessive and protective. I have no right to tell you that I always run away, but right now I just want to fight for you.”

“Mm. You’re right. We have no right to be having this conversation when it’s too much for me.”

Eddie was about to get up.

“Hold me?” Steve asked so quietly.

And his request was honored so gently. He might have been whimpering and flinching, but that didn’t stop him from grabbing the older male’s shirt and clinging to it.

When Robin barged into the trailer, exactly sixty-one minutes later, Steve flinched and his hands gripped on to Eddie’s knees tightly.

Eddie was sitting sideways on the couch, his legs spread so that Steve could be seated between them. His back was against the older male’s chest and his hands had been playing with the loose threads over Eddie’s knees before he was startled. Eddie had been trying to braid Steve’s too short hair as they listened to some music that neither male was paying enough attention to in order to place.

As soon as he saw his best friend, he was struggling to his feet before stumbling over to her with all the grace of a newborn giraffe.

“R-Robbie.”

“Stevie.”

“I shouldn’t have gone.”

“Hey, don’t blame yourself.”

They were clinging to each other, both of them shaking.

“Promised to never leave you again.”

“It’s okay. We’ll get through this. Also, Eddie is driving us home because I refuse to let go of you.”

“I am?”

“You are.”

“And then you’re staying, too.” Steve added.

“I am.” There was a smile to Eddie’s voice at that.

Despite everything, Steve liked him and felt safe with him. Hopefully Eddie would never do anything to break that.

#stranger things #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie stranger things #steve stranger things #steve x eddie #read the cw #read the tw #i’m sorry pls forgive me #steddie fanfiction #so much angst #feat stobin #platonic stobin #platonic with a capital p #robin buckley #robin buckley stranger things #bad guy oc #slowandsteddie

[dreamofbecoming]

more stobin nonsense from your resident trash goblin. feat. shitty harrington parents, lavender marriage, full party found family shenanigans, steddie flirting, steve&will bonding, and a severe lack of dialogue tags

rating: t wc: 5k ao3

“I knew it!”

Steve sighs. Listen, he knew the minute he opened his mouth that this was coming. There was always a zero percent chance Dustin was ever gonna let him get out the whole thing before bursting in with this exact interruption, but that doesn’t make it less annoying. If the little shithead would just let him finish--

"I knew you were perfect together, I can't believe you didn't tell us you were dating! How long have you been a thing? I have money to collect! Can I be your best man? Never mind, obviously I'm gonna be your best man. You so owe me for not telling me sooner! I cannot believe-"

"Henderson!"

"What?"

"We're not together like that."

In fairness, Dustin is not the only one to give them an incredulous look for that one.

"Steve. You literally just announced you and Robin are getting married. What is even the point of pretending you're not in love anymore? What are you still trying to prove? Just admit I was right the whole time!"

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose and forces himself to take a deep breath, instead of wringing Dustin's weird little boneless neck. It's not his fault, he reminds himself. They haven't gotten to the second part of the announcement, so his assumptions are natural.

Now, it is Henderson's fault that they haven't managed to say the rest of what they came here to say, so maybe he can keep blaming him after all.

"Do you remember when we sat down and we asked you guys to let us say everything we were gonna say without interrupting?"

"Uh, yeah dude, it was like ten minutes ago. We're not stupid."

"Has it occurred to you that maybe we weren't done saying everything we were gonna say, considering I was halfway through a sentence when you jumped in?"

"I mean, I guess, but like, it's pretty obvious where you're going with this, Steve. You're not a complicated guy, no offense. Now, where did we land on the best man issue?"

Nancy must see the offense very much taken on his face, because before he can open his mouth and say something probably horrifically rude that would feel amazing in the moment and which he would immediately regret, she jumps to his rescue.

"Dustin, you're being very rude. Steve and Robin came here to talk to us, and we promised to listen. Let them finish."

It's nice of her to back Steve up, considering how weird this conversation must be for her. Hopefully it gets less awkward soon.

Henderson grumbles mutinously, but years of dealing with first Mike and then the rest of the little dickheads have left Nancy's control ironclad, and he waves sarcastically for Steve to continue.

This kid is spending too much time with Eddie, the attitude is getting out of hand.

"Right. Thanks, Nance. As I was saying, Robin and I are getting married, yes. But not because we're in love. I mean, I love her, obviously, but as a friend. Only a friend. Or, well, I guess a friend and soon a...friend...wife? Frife? Wend? You guys get it."

"We very much don't." Alright, well, fine, add Max to the shitlist.

He looks over at Robin, hoping for help, but she's stiff as a board and trembling all over.

He doesn't want to be the one to say the words for her. They agreed together to tell everyone the truth, it was her idea even, but the last thing he wants to do is steal that moment from her.

Maybe he can just…talk around it, until she feels up to it. And if not, he’ll just tell them his part of it and call it good.

“We’re getting lavender married.”

Okay, so that’s probably not like. A normal way to say that or whatever. Robin just used that term like fifty times last night, alright? She was really excited about the article she just read about it, something about how it was a thing in, like, olden times or whatever, and now it’s coming back because Reagan is a fucking tool, Steve’s not sure, he was only kind of listening. Regardless, now it’s stuck in his head. Sue him or whatever, geez.

Anyway, he isn’t sure how many people in this room will actually understand what that means, but Nancy’s mouth drops open in a perfect little O the way it only does when she’s genuinely surprised by something, and there’s a tiny gasp from over by the table that he thinks might have come from Will, and Max mutters to herself “Oh shit, that explains so much,” so it’s not none of them, which helps. No pitchforks yet, at least.

Jonathan is eyeing him speculatively, and Argyle is offering him an enthusiastic thumbs up, which is nice.

Unfortunately, the other boys and El are giving him blank, expectant stares, and Erica is eyeing him with both confusion and annoyance, so it looks like he still has some explaining to do.

“What the hell does your color scheme have to do with this? I’m not helping plan the wedding, dude, I don’t care that much.”

Steve mumbles a “Language,” on reflex, but his heart isn’t in it. This is somehow more nerve-wracking than evil Russians.

“Mike, that’s not what it means. Now shut up and listen, or I’ll tell Mom how that red sock ended up in her load of white delicates.”

“Oh come on, she’ll kill me!” When all he gets in return is a single raised eyebrow, he groans and slumps further into his seat, glaring at Steve.

“Right. Okay. So basically, last night, my parents--”

“I’m a lesbian!”

There’s a beat of dead silence, which in this group is more unsettling than just about anything else.

Steve keeps his eyes on Robin, who looks just about as shocked at her own outburst as everyone else in the room. He takes her hand, squeezing gently until she unfreezes a little and looks back over at him. She looks terrified, and it breaks his heart a little.

“You okay, babe?” He keeps his voice low, murmuring just loud enough for her to hear. He knows this moment is the opposite of private, but she needs him to pretend for a second, so that’s what he’s gonna do.

She nods, a little jerkily, but she grips his hand back and intentionally evens out her breathing. She’s so fucking brave. He would burn the world down for Robin Buckley, and he doesn’t care who knows it.

He can’t believe she’s willing to do this for him, but he’s so grateful he feels like he’s choking on it.

“Henderdork will literally never shut up and let you live it down if we do this and he doesn’t know the truth. Not even for a single second for the rest of forever, and I, for one, am not putting up with that shit until death or legal marriage reforms do us part, Dingus.”

It was a solid point last night when they came up with the plan, curled on her bed while she stroked his hair and generously pretended he hadn’t soaked the shoulder of her shirt with his sobs, all his worldly possessions packed into a duffel on her bedroom floor, but he knows her insistence was more about knowing how much he hates lying to the kids than it was about protecting herself from irritating teenagers.

He doesn’t think there’s enough room on the whole planet to hold all the love he feels for her, even if you count the Upside Down and any other weirdo dimensions floating around out there waiting to ruin his day.

“I’m okay, bubba. Don’t let go?” Her hand is shaking in his, but he just squeezes harder.

“Never.” He turns back to the room, eyes hard as he scans the faces of their family for any hostility. He wouldn’t have agreed to this part of the plan if he thought any of them would be a problem, but he’s not taking anything for granted with Robbie’s safety. Not now, not ever. "Everyone's gonna be cool about that, right?"

"Of course we are, right, guys?" From the pained grunt that follows her words, Steve assumes Max has dug her elbow into Mike's ribs.

"Yeah, sure, whatever."

"I suppose this makes you slightly less lame, Buckley. It's definitely better than when I thought you liked this loser." Wow, okay, thank you Erica.

"Yeah totally! Thanks for trusting us, Robin." Lucas is a sweetheart, he really is. He's also glancing surreptitiously at Will while he nods enthusiastically, who is still staring open-mouthed at Robin with wide, shiny eyes.

"Yes, thank you for trusting us, Robin." Nancy is smiling kindly, but she's got that glint in her eye that Steve knows means she just came up with more questions and is waiting for the right moment to strike. Fair enough, at least she's letting Robs have her moment first.

He finally drags his eyes back to Dustin, who he doesn't really want to admit, even to himself, he's a little worried about. Not that he'll be shitty about it, necessarily, but there's nothing that brings out Henderson's bitchy side like being wrong, and he's been so fucking wrong this entire time. It's bound to upset him.

And maybe Steve will never say this out loud where the other kids might hear, but the truth is that Dustin's opinion matters to him more than just about everyone else's. Dustin was the first person in the whole world who saw Steve, the real Steve, and decided he was worth keeping around. If Henderson can't accept this part of Robin, it means he can't accept this part of Steve, and if that happens...if that happens Steve isn't sure he'll be able to come back from it.

So he's...not worried, okay? Worried is not the right word. Anxious, maybe. Concerned.

Okay fine fuck off he's worried.

Dustin...looks like he's about to cry. Shit.

"Did you think you couldn't trust me?" His voice is so small. Steve doesn't think he's ever heard it so small. It feels wrong. Henderson's voice should fill every room he's in, always. "You didn't have to lie. You could have told me the truth."

Aw, fuck.

"Buddy,--"

"It's not that simple, little man."

Steve whips back around to look at Robin. Are you sure you’re up for this? She purses her lips and narrows her eyes. Yeah, Dingus, this is my mess. Let me clean it up. Put the lance down, White Knight. Well, alright then. He waves for her to continue, ignoring the looks the others always shoot them when they do their silent conversation thing. Not his fault they can’t read each other as well, it’s not like it’s hard.

"Before today, Steve was the only person in the world who knew about me. And honestly, I don't know if I would have told him if we weren't both coming off torture and truth serum. I've worked hard to hide it my whole life, baby Dingus, that's not an easy thing to stop doing. It's scary."

"But we're your friends. We're your family! We saved the world together! You should trust your family, right?"

Aw, jeez. Steve forgets, sometimes, how young they are. They've been through horrific supernatural trauma, but they're still the kind of kids who think life is a story with a happy ending, like their little dragon game.

"Yeah, bud, you should, but it's not always that easy. There can be really serious consequences for telling the wrong person. Like, last night my parents found out I'm bisexual by accident and now I...well. Now I don't have parents anymore." Oof, okay, little blunter than he meant to be, but Robbie's getting anxious again so he has to take the focus back.

There's an eruption of sound, as every voice in the Party starts shouting all at once, turning the Wheeler's basement into Steve's own personal migraine generator.

"Did they kick you out?"

"You're bisexual?!"

"What's bisexual?"

"They can't just do that!"

"Does this mean we have to find somewhere else for Hellfire nights?"

That last one earns Erica several Looks, but she doesn't flinch. "What? I'm just being practical."

He wishes Eddie was here. The gremlins actually listen to him, unlike Steve, on account of as their Hellfire DM, he has leverage they care about to threaten them with. Well, most of them, but it's definitely a help when he's around.

Sadly he and Wayne are at some kind of Munson family reunion down in West Virginia this week, so Steve is gonna have to do this whole spiel over again when he gets back. He and Robin thought about waiting until he got back and the whole Party could be together, but the kids would definitely notice him not living in Loch Nora anymore pretty much immediately. And Steve hates the idea of telling him over the phone, so double coming out/engagement announcement it is.

"Alright, Jesus Christ, enough! One at a goddamn time, you animals."

He looks back at Dustin, who's definitely crying now. "Yeah, buddy, they kicked me out, but I'm okay. I'm staying with the Buckleys for now, and Rob and I have been saving up to move in together soon anyway, so all this did is move up our timeline. I'm safe and I'm fine, okay? I promise."

Dustin plasters himself to Steve's front, squeezing like he's worried Steve is going to shatter into pieces and he can hold him together by sheer force of will. It's very sweet, even if it's crushing his lungs a little.

"I'm sorry you felt like you couldn't tell me." The words are muffled in Steve's chest, he's not sure anyone else heard him.

"Aw, kid, it's okay. I trust you, alright? Always. You die, I die, remember? I was just...figuring my shit out, that's all."

"Your parents are mouthbreathers." Steve chuckles a little at the mutinous glare on El's face, not pausing his hand where he's stroking Dustin's hair.

"You're not wrong, Supergirl. But it's fine, honestly. They've always been dicks, I've been planning to move out for a long time. They just...gave me the final push, is all." He's definitely leaving out the part where he broke down sobbing in Robbie's bed last night, asking her over and over why he was so broken that his own parents couldn't love him, but the kids don't need to hear that part of the story.

"Does this have something to do with your whirlwind engagement?" There she is, ace reporter Nancy Wheeler. Observant as always.

"Yeah, pretty much. They disinherited me, but they're still legally my next of kin."

"And Dingus has had far too much head trauma for me to trust he's not gonna end up back in the hospital for something at some point, and the last thing we need is Mr. and Mrs. von Child Neglect getting that call. And I was just reading about gay men and women who are marrying each other so they can have someone allowed in to see in them in the hospital, because of the virus, you know? And I thought, hey that's not a half bad idea! We're gonna be living together anyway, and it's not like I'm marrying anyone else, and it'll be good for both of us to have someone who knows about, y'know, monsters and all that jazz, to do our power of attorney stuff, so, voila! Mr. and Mrs. Bucklington!"

"We are not changing our name to Bucklington."

"Well Harringley is worse, so suck it up, buttercup."

"I'm not interested in keeping the Harrington name, Bobs, I'd rather just be a Buckley."

"Aw, bubba, you're gonna make me cry!"

"You should both become Hendersons! Then we'd really be brothers!"

Steve erupts into laughter, the tension effectively broken by Dustin's wide, toothy grin. "What d'ya say, Bobbie? Steve and Robin Henderson?"

"Would we get access to Claudia's lasagna recipe? Because if so, I'm behind this plan one hundred percent.”

"By 'we' you do mean me, right? Because I love you more than life, Bobs, but I'm not letting you anywhere near a casserole dish. I've learned that lesson."

"It was one time!"

"It took me three days to get all the cheese off the ceiling! There's still a stain!"

"Well good! Ceiling grease stains can be the Harrington's problem now, anyway. They deserve it!"

Argyle is nodding sagely from on top of the incredibly deflated bean bag he's sharing with Jonathan. "I do like Bucklington, it makes you sound like a fancy butler. But family is important, brochachos, and so is lasagna. I vote Henderson."

This spurs impassioned arguments from all corners, which Steve is more than happy to relax into the couch cushions and let wash over him.

There's a light, bubbly feeling in his chest. For the first time since his dad walked in unannounced yesterday, interrupting his phone call with Robin at the worst possible moment, the knot of fear and grief in his stomach starts to loosen.

Robin smiles at him, and he grins helplessly back. Who needs parents when he's got a soulmate? They're together, they're safe, they're surrounded by their family. Steve holds Dustin tighter to his side and lets himself feel loved.

He takes advantage of a lull in the Last Name Wars to get out the last of the speech he'd planned. "Anyway, we decided to tell all of you the truth when we came up with this plan last night, because we do trust you and we didn't want to lie to you, and also because we knew you shitheads would never shut up about us being in love if we didn't and that sounded awful."

He laughs delightedly at the chorus of indignant outbursts this gets him before continuing.

"It's really important that you don't tell anyone outside the Party the truth, alright? We're gonna tell Eddie when he gets back, and we might tell Joyce and Hop eventually, but that needs to be our choice to do. You can't do it for us, and you absolutely can't tell anyone else. The whole point of this is to keep us safe by keeping people from finding out the truth, okay?"

El looks vaguely uncomfortable, but not upset. "Will you tell my Dad soon?"

Steve glances at Robbie, who's looking anxious again, and then over at Will. His shoulders are tense, hunched up around his ears, and he's staring intently at the table in front of him.

Steve isn't sure if anyone else knows what he thinks he knows about Will, but he's pretty sure he recognizes the specific flavor of isolation he can see Will struggling with sometimes, and he's definitely sure he recognizes the looks Will shoots at Mike whenever Wheeler isn't looking. Tommy used to look at him like that.

Either way, he knows the kind of fear the kid must be suffering, just like he knows how terrifying today was for Robin. For Steve, the worst case scenario has already happened, so he has a lot less left to lose. He can afford to smooth the way a little, to test the waters and make sure they're safe for everyone else.

It's not that different from his normal role in this group anyway, just a different kind of monster. He's always been good at taking hits so the others don't have to-- this is just another threat to step in front of.

"Tell you what, Ellie, I'll talk to Hop and Joyce this weekend, that way you won't have to keep secrets from him for too long. I'll just tell him about me, though, at first, okay? That way we'll know if it's safe for Robbie." Or anyone else, he doesn't say.

Jonathan hears it, at the very least, and shoots him a look that's equal parts surprised and grateful. Maybe Will has someone else in his corner after all, then.

El nods happily, satisfied with that.

Before anyone else can jump in, there's a clattering on the basement stairs. None of them have time to tense up too badly before the door bursts open and Eddie comes tumbling through it in a flurry of dark curls and frayed denim.

"Fear not, my wayward wastrels, for I have returned from far off lands, bearing tidings and the promise of libations!"

Steve only recognizes, like, four of those words, but seeing Eddie gives him the same happy, fizzy feeling in his gut that it always does these days, so he grins.

"You're back early, Eds, everything ok?"

Eddie blinks at him, then around the room, looking surprised to see it so packed.

"Yeah, my cousin Clarence accidentally broke my MeeMaw's pasture fencing and set all the goats loose in the hills, and if we stuck around we were gonna have to help round them back up, so Wayne and I snuck out early. I was coming to invite the gremlins out for pizza to tell you all about it, but this is more people than I was expecting. Y'all having a family meeting? Without little old moi?"

Steve valiantly suppresses the shiver that the twang in Eddie's voice triggers. Steve's not sure if Eddie notices the way his accent gets stronger when he's been talking to family, but he's had to work very hard to make sure he doesn't notice the way it affects Steve.

Steve has barely tested the flirting waters with Eddie since admitting his crush to Robin, he's definitely not jumping right in with 'It makes me tingly all over when you start talking with a drawl, wanna call me darlin' and see what happens?'

Luckily Bobbie notices his inner struggle and comes to his rescue.

"It was kind of a time sensitive issue- not a life or death one! Or like. Not a monster one, anyway. But shit went down last night and we needed to brief everyone before the geek squad figured out something was funky and came beating down the door. Steve wanted to tell you in person so we were gonna wait til you got back, but here you are!"

Eddie's looking at Robin with an amused smile on his face, one eyebrow raised and his lips quirked in a lopsided grin that is, frankly, unreasonably attractive. "Here I am indeed, my fair Lady of Feathers. So what's the scoop?"

He plops down next to Jonathan and Argyle on the beanbags, nearly sending them all toppling before Argyle hooks both of them around the waists and drags them practically into his lap.

Steve is not seething with jealousy. He's not.

A half a dozen voices chime out all at once.

"Robin's gay!"

"Steve's homeless."

"Robin and Steve are getting married!"

“Purple married.”

“It’s lavender, dummy.”

“Lavender’s a kind of purple!”

"They're gonna be Hendersons!"

"No they aren't, weirdo, they're gonna be Buckleys."

"Bucklington is clearly the superior choice, even if Argyle was right about the butler thing."

“Bucklington my ass, y’all dumb as hell if you think Mom and Dad aren’t gonna try and make him a Sinclair after this.”

"Mama and Papa Harrington didn't like that Stevie boy has double the love to give. Totally bogus. Bi bros for life, man."

"I still call Steve's best man!"

Eddie blinks a little when everyone quiets down, looking vaguely shellshocked. "That was. A lot of information to get in thirty seconds."

And, listen, Steve is like, 97% sure Eddie's cool. More than cool, even. He moves that bandana to the same pocket every time he changes his jeans, no matter what outfit he's wearing. There's no way that's an accident. But if Steve is being totally honest, which he's trying to do more these days, at least inside his own brain, this is maybe not the way he'd have chosen to come out to his crush. It's somehow way more nerve-wracking when he didn't even get to say it himself.

Oh well, it's out there now. It's fine, probably.

Still, there’s a definite feeling of relief when Eddie turns that megawatt grin on him again.

"Man, I wish I'd known there were other queers in Hawkins, I might have listened sooner when Henderson told me how cool you guys were!"

Steve laughs, only a little hysterically. "Dude, if you thought you were the only one, what the hell have you been wearing that hanky for? Who are you hoping will see it?"

It's a little gratifying to see Eddie go flaming tomato red in seconds. "I am not talking about that in mixed company, Steven. There are children here!"

"Ugh, we're literally teenagers."

"Tiny baby infants! If you're so curious, you can ask me again later."

"Promise?" Steve can't stop himself from grinning wolfishly.

Eddie tugs his hair in front of his face to hide, and the frantic little giggle and the quiet "Oh my god," he lets out both sound more than a little strangled. Steve's having the time of his life right now.

"Gross." Ugh, rude. He glares at Robin for ruining his fun. She sticks her tongue out at him.

Before they can devolve into the inevitable slapfight, Nancy cuts in again.

"Alright, unless anyone else has anything to share in private, I think we should take Eddie's suggestion and get something to eat." Good thinking, Nance. "To celebrate the happy couple, of course," she adds with a smirk. Yeah, that makes more sense.

"Onward then, my noble companions, to pizza and to paradise!" Eddie vaults off the beanbag, sending Jonathan and Argyle tumbling. Argyle laughs and accepts Eddie's hand up, while Jonathan just rolls his eyes good-naturedly.

Eddie slings an arm around Robin's shoulders as they head for the basement door. "So, Birdie, what's this I hear about a wedding? I need context."

As the kids go thundering up the stairs, arguing about who gets to drive in which car, Steve lingers. He noticed Will hanging back from the others, and now they're the last ones left, Will still slowly packing up the pens and notebooks he seems to carry around with him everywhere. Jonathan is hovering anxiously in the doorway, so Steve sends him a nod and waves him off. He's got this.

"You ready to go, kid?"

Will fidgets with the zipper on his bag for another few seconds before looking up at Steve through his, frankly tragic, fringe. "I'm sorry your parents suck."

"Yeah, man, me too." Steve shoots him a wry little smile. "It's alright though, sometimes we're better off without them. I've got plenty of family here that love me, I'll survive without Richard and Diane."

Will studies him for a minute. Steve's not sure what he's looking for, but he hopes he finds it.

"That's what Jonathan says about Lonnie." Steve nods, trying not to wince at the memory of the things he spat at Jonathan that day in '83 when everything changed. "I used to think it was my fault he left, but Jonathan says he was just a bastard, and it's better he's gone anyway."

"I didn't know Lonnie," he's careful not to say your dad, "but from what I've heard, Jonathan's probably right. And he's definitely right that it's not your fault."

"Like it's not your fault your parents kicked you out?"

"Yeah, exactly like that. If it was my fault, that would mean I did something wrong. The only thing I did was exist, and be different than they thought I would be. If they can't love the kid they had, then they shouldn't have had a kid at all. That's their problem, not mine. There's nothing wrong with me."

It doesn't matter if he heard all of these things from Robin first, if he's still trying to learn to believe them. Will needs to hear them like they're true, the same way Steve does.

"Are you sure?" Will's voice is trembling now. He's looking at the floor, but Steve can tell there are tears coming. "How can you be sure this is how you're supposed to be? Wouldn't you rather be normal?"

Oh, kid. "I mean, yeah, maybe it would be easier if I only liked girls, but I don't. I tried for a long time to pretend that I did, but it didn't make it true. And yeah, part of me wants to hate myself, because that's what they taught me to think, and I still kinda wish doing that would make them love me, but it won't. But honestly, you wanna know the biggest thing?" Will nods.

"I can't hate that part of myself without hating Robin, and there's no universe where I could hate Robin. Robin's perfect. She's the best person in the world, and she's gay, so being gay can't be bad. It's impossible. So whenever that voice in my head starts saying shitty things to me, I just think about how much I love Robin and tell it to shut up."

There's a beat where Will seems to be absorbing this.

"How did you know it would be safe? To tell us the truth?"

"I didn't."

Will stares at him in shock.

"Not a hundred percent, anyway. I was pretty sure, but it's never a guarantee with stuff like this, you know? But the other option was never telling anyone, and that...it gets tiring, you know? Always having to hide. Always having to check yourself. Lying when people ask the wrong questions. It wears you down. And I've fought monsters with you guys. I've been tortured by spies with you guys. If I can't trust this group to have my back, I can't trust anyone, can I? And I didn't want to live a life of not trusting anyone. I didn't want Bobbie to live a life like that. So, we took a chance. And it paid off, because all of you are the people we thought you were, and we were right to trust you. But it was a leap of faith, dude. It always is."

"What if I'm not ready?" Fucking shit, this kid. He's been through more than any of them, except maybe El, and he's still so goddamn brave. Steve would have crumpled like a tin can in his place.

"Then you're not ready. It's not a test, Will. There's no right or wrong answers. But I will say that every single person out there loves you, and they'll keep loving you no matter what you do. They're not like my parents, or Lonnie. Our friends aren't broken inside the way they are. Their love isn't conditional. You won't chase them away. You couldn't if you tried."

Will lets out a shaky breath, clearly fighting back tears. Steve leans against the table and keeps his head down, offering the kid the illusion of privacy while he pulls himself together. After a few minutes he speaks up again.

"You ready to go, you think?"

Will nods. He goes to walk past Steve to the stairs before hesitating and, to Steve's surprise, wrapping his gangly arms around him in an awkward hug.

"Thanks, Steve," he mumbles into Steve's shoulder.

Steve runs a hand down his back uncertainly. "Anytime, kid."

He keeps his arm around Will's shoulders tentative, but when the kid doesn't shrug him off or move away, he lets it settle more firmly, tugging him closer.

“Come on Baby Byers, let's go get some pizza. You think I can milk the disownment thing to get Eddie to pay for extra toppings?"

Will snorts. "I think Eddie would pay for as many toppings as you want as long as you do that little eyelash thing at him again."

Steve throws his head back and laughs, long and loud from his belly. Yeah, it's gonna be a good night.

my head hurts too much to keep writing this but please know that the pizza parlor engagement party involves plenty of arguing about roles in the wedding party, resulting in MOH erica/best man dustin (scoops troop babeyy), flower girl team lumax (max demanded the role bc her wheelchair means she can carry extra baskets of petals, and lucas will be pushing the chair so her hands are free. he's just excited to be there.) nancy/el bridesmaids and byler groomsmen (mike grumbles and groans but he's secretly thrilled). jonathan does the pictures and it turns out argyle got ordained back in cali as a joke so he officiates. eddie plays crimson and clover for robin’s wedding march. there’s a bit of a kerfuffle when claudia and the sinclairs both try to claim steve as their son, but after someone makes the argument that charles and sue have two kids to carry their name while claudia only has one, they end up hyphenating and becoming the buckley-hendersons. yes, claudia cries. yes, they get the lasagna recipe.

(at the pizza place, eddie asks what his role will be and steve says he doesn't know yet, but he'll save him a dance regardless. eddie has to hide in the bathroom to stop blushing.)

#stranger things #steve harrington #robin buckley #platonic stobin #dustin henderson #will byers #eddie munson #appalachian eddie munson #the party #not tagging everyone bc i don't want to clog character tags but the gang's all here #inklings of steddie #for what it’s worth i’m firmly in the camp of ‘will is out to el so she knows about gay people’ #the stobin lavender marriage fic #almost #the pre-stobin lavender marriage fic is more accurate #this is mostly a coming out to the party fic #idk i had fun with it #but my head hurts and tags are hard #happy reading i'm going to sleep #my writing

[katyawriteswhump]

the power of love, part 3 (steddie, stobin, steve whump fic)

Steve has a habit of surviving near death experiences then getting sick for no reason. And Eddie and those fatal bat bites? After an impossible feat of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation from Steve, he’s mysteriously fixed. So, Eddie’s back to being banished, this time with Steve and Robin in tow. Eddie’s healing, but Steve isn’t… and life gets even more confusing, when Eddie develops feelings for Steve, which aren’t entirely unrequited.

Part one Part two Part four Part five Part six Part seven Part eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven Part Twelve

Chapter Three

Eddie POV

“You wanna thank me for saving your life, Munson? Then stop trying to ditch me.” 

Steve sinks a little deeper into the couch, and his eyes flutter closed. 

“Steve?” Eddie flails, then, before he knows it, he reaches out, brushing Steve’s hair from his clammy brow. He cups his face and gently jostles him. “Steve! Shit, you with me?”

“Stop hassling me,” Steve mumbles. He’s turned a shade paler, if that was even possible.

“Oh my God, what happened?” Robin finally returns with the bandages. “Steve?”

“Jesus, will you both stop yelling?” Steve moans softly. “Just… gimme a minute, okay?”

“Okay. I’m gonna try bandaging him up,” says Robin to Eddie. “Go find a blanket. You didn’t notice he’s massively shivering?”

Telling her how Steve took a turn for the worse real quick feels like a weak excuse. “Yeah. Blanket. Right.”

“Oh, and clean clothes. For both of you. Something for me, too? And… Oh my God, I guess we need supplies for a road trip.”

Eddie grabs the cover from Steve’ bed, some clothes already laid out, and delivers them downstairs. Steve mutters his thanks and drags the pants on, while the others avert their gazes uncomfortably. He collapses back down onto the couch. 

He’s stopped bitching. It must be bad.

Robin places a dressing over Steve’s wound, unfurls a long bandage. Eddie has to admit—he’s astonished by how collected she is. Granted, like earlier, she pulls a spectacular spectrum of grossed-out faces. Eddie sees how tender she’s trying to be, as she helps Steve to sit, starts winding the bandage around his midriff. And he gets it.

Dammit, how did some guy he loved to hate, turn out to be so easy to like?

Still jealous, Harrington.

Also, though the poor guy is struggling to remain conscious, Eddie still struggles not to ogle that body. Steve’s chest really is mega-hot. And how the heck can somebody’s wet hair retain so much shape and volume?

“You gonna go get those supplies,” asks Robin, “or stand there and gawp till Vecna swallows Hawkins whole?”

Eddie snaps his mouth shut, scurries off.

Rifling through Steve’s stuff feels totally audacious. While Steve’s bikini girl posters are not to his taste–cringe!–he’s not un-enjoying himself. He literally breathes in Steve on everything—his premium-brand clothes, the bedding, the whole room. And woah, what has his life come to when Eddie Munson is intimate enough with Steve Harrington to dig his scent?

He drags off his ruined Hellfire Club t-shirt over his head—not without a pang, because all the scrubbing in the world’s not gonna save that pretty baby. He catches a glimpse of himself in a mirror, and staggers back into the bed. Woah!

His hair is a car-wreck, his torso a mass of red wheals and scratches. Yet that truly is all his injuries are. They scarcely overshadow his ink. He sorts out his hair, for which Steve possesses some truly excellent tools of the trade, and then discovers Steve owns a thick leather belt with a chunky silver buckle that isn’t entirely un-metal. He looks weird and almost preppy in Steve’s clean, crisp clothes, but…

… you’re still gonna stick out like a long-haired loon’s sore thumb. 

He locates a roomy woolly hat, bundles his hair up beneath it, and grabs the rest of the supplies.

Downstairs, Robin fiddles to tie the ends of Steve’s fresh bandages. Steve, meanwhile, lies partially beneath the blanket, his arm flung across his face. Eddie’s alarm spikes, though he tries to keep it light: “For a self-confessed hater of bodily fluids, you are smashing it outta the stadium today, Buckley.”

She glances up, a portrait of anguish. “He’s getting worse.”

“Stop worrying,” mumbles Steve, sliding his hand from his eyes. Then his head flops limply to one side.

“Steve!” Robin shakes him. “Eddie, he’s out for the count! What do we do? Henderson just radioed, and there’s like, army guys in town, going house to house. He’s heard your name and Steve’s in radio chatter, which means Steve is right. They know he’s been helping you, probably me too. It’s only a matter of time before…”

Eddie tunes out, in order to control his own ballooning panic. Then he puffs out his cheeks, steels his resolution. “You two should stay. He needs help, and he’s in no way as much trouble as I am.”

“Steve really, really doesn’t wanna be arrested. He thinks we should stick together unless there’s absolutely no choice, and… where he goes, I go.”

“Seriously?”

“I made a promise! Oh, and obviously, going on the run with two guys riddled with possibly rabid bat-bites has always been a dream of mine.”

While he searches for car-keys, Eddie considers making a solo run for it. Astonishingly, though, he simply can’t do it. “Eddie the Banished might be back,” he mutters to himself, “but he doesn’t flee from friends in need anymore.”

They haul Steve up between them, each hooking an arm over their shoulders. In the garage, they manage to wrangle him into the backseat of a Lincoln Continental that JR Ewing would be totally proud of. Like most of the Harringtons’ possessions, it makes Eddie wanna hurl. They shove the supplies in the trunk, fix a couple of bikes to the roof.

“You sure you can drive this thing?” Robin slides into the backseat, awkwardly manoeuvring Steve’s head and shoulders in her lap.

“No sweat.” Eddie beams at her, like he means it. “One issue—how does this colossus start when you don’t have to hotwire it?”

After a few minutes, and a helluva lot of grinding in the gearbox, Eddie pulls jerkily off up the driveway. After that, they barely go a block before hitting trouble. Flashing emergency vehicle lights blind them at every turn, army trucks roll by, and the quickest routes out of town have been ruined by the earthquake or roadblocked anyway. Eddie performs a clumsy U-turn and heads back the way they came.

“Shiiiiit, what we gonna do?”

 “Eddie, he’s awake, but he’s gone really cold. Steve? Steve! He’s trying to tell me something.”

“Drop him off at the nearest hospital?”

“He made me promise,” hisses Robin, though she sounds more doubtful than ever. Then, to Steve, “Shhh, take it easy. Don’t try and… huh?”

Eddie drives randomly, avoids another roadblock, where the earthquake has swallowed a whole street. Robin says, “He wants us to go toward Lover’s Lake.”

“Whut? Oh, screw it. Why not? I’ve got a creeping suspicion this is gonna end in disaster, whatever we do.”

As they drive, several more emergency vehicles tear past. Each time, Eddie’s heart lurches to his mouth, and he further trashes the Lincoln’s gearbox. Somehow, though, they reach the wooded road that leads toward the lake. Robin is in full-on panic mode: “Eddie, he’s barely breathing.”

“Okay, okay, keep calm.” Eddie’s instructing himself every bit as much as her. “We’re nearly there. Nearly there, ’kay?”

When they pull up on the closet verge to the lake, he realises they’re screwed. Searchlights streak the forest. Clearly, manpower is pouring into Hawkins from all over the State, for disaster search and rescue… and to capture and destroy satanic ol’ me. Oh, and Steve Harrington, my unlikely henchman.

He twists to where Robin is desperately cuddling Steve to her.

“Robin, there’s no way we can get him to the lake without—”

“He seems better,” she says. “He’s breathing evenly again, like he’s sleeping rather than…”

…dying? A thick lump clogs Eddie’s throat.

“…than wheezing and gasping,” she finishes. “He’s getting warmer again, too.” A flashlight streaks the hood. “Oh shit, shit, shitbirds! They’re getting near! What do we do?” 

Somebody is indeed getting waaaay too close, and Eddie is at last on a relatively clear road out of town. He makes an executive decision, presses the pedal to the metal, and drives hard into the night.

Part 4

(also on AO3 here and as part of my steve whump fic series)

tags: @estrellami-1 (thank you, thank you, thank you!) If anybody else would like to be tagged on this fic or any of my writing, please let me know :) Reblogs, comments and likes also very much appreciated :) Thank you for reading so far.

#steddie #steve harrington whump #steve x eddie #stranger things fanfic #stobin fanfic #stobin friendship #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steve harrington #stobin #steve harrington hc #steve harrington hurt/comfort #stobin fic #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things

[pzyii]

have u ever drawn stonathan :D

I mean… now I have

Also feat platonic stobin

#Pzyii answers #Reqs #stonathan #steve harrington #jonathan byers #stranger things #Solarsleepless #Haven’t drawn Robin in so long…. Insane

[qprstobin]

PLS tell me abt this stobin wonder twins au

OKAY SO gonna preface this with this is a) very much a crack treated seriously sort of au and b) therefore not typically how I view the characters or relationships it was just fun to riff off of (aka i actually dont view stobin as having a sibling relationship normally and dont typically like secret sibling aus for a multitude of reasons)

WITH THAT OUT OF THE WAY

the concept of the au was what if steve and robin were actually twins separated at birth (mid summer birthday can easily explain the different grades) but were both adopted bc their mom was part of a similar set of experiments to what el's mom was a part of, several years before hers happened. the experiment ends before their mom is far enough along for anyone to really notice, and so she is able to give her twins up for adoption without the lab realizing what they missed out on.

so steve and robin both lowkey grow up with powers they dont quite realize they have? think the skywalker twins in star wars, both had incredible force powers, were able to read people, do great feats, etc. but didn't have any idea of their force abilities until they were adults and someone else flat out told them. they wouldnt be using the abilities every day like the numbers are too, so they don't get that powerful either until they learn about them.

not sure if i ever decided for sure what their powers would be, i like steve with empathy and intuition bc he is just that good at reading people. i think while steves is more mental, robin is more physical, like psychometry in star wars where she can touch things and get skill/memory transfer, or impressions, etc. they both have some sort of healing factor and low-grade telekinesis (i think even with practice they wouldn't individually be able to compete with el there, tho maybe together mas y menos style???), steve just uses his healing factor more fidjgsihs

i think, like the skywalker twins, they also had something of a mind-link but initially they were in different towns and then in different social circles they didn't realize it. they were each others imaginary friends as kids, and they were drawn to each other as they got older but didnt know WHY. robin thought she was fixated because she was jealous but really was just picking up wild vibes, steve, esp pre-s1 steve, was picking up vibes and just ignored it as hard as possible.

they don't even realize something is up until they start spending actual time together at scoops and even then i dont think they really realize WHAT it is thats weird until they find out they have the same birthday and are like.... wait a minute. probably sometime during the russian drama. a lot of things come to light during the russian debacle that leaves them both very confused and they have a lot to deal with in the days afterwards

idk, its not my normal type of au like i said but i love the potential for dumb stobin shenanigans and i think arguably giving both of stobin powers is a terrible idea in the best way <3

#stobin #platonic stobin #stobin au #stranger things #stranger things au #blueskiesandstarrynights #asks #thanks for asking! i forgot about this au actually and forgot i had it listed on my pinned #it was fun to think about this again #i have other thoughts about this au esp for their scoops days and also how el and dustin would react to this #steve #robin #st au

[hairstevington]

Welcome to my blog!

For those who are new (hiii <3), I’m Frenchie, and I figured I'm official enough now to have an introduction post, so here's some basic info, FAQ, and a Masterlist of my content so far!

I reblog exclusively Stranger Things content here, although surprisingly I DO have other interests :o

I have an Ao3 account under this same username, if that's your thing!

I keep my writing and this blog PG-13 (with language/drug use and mild sexual content), so if you're looking for explicit stuff I am not the writer for you!

Favorite ship is Any Character x Peace and Happiness (also I love writing Steddie and Lumax has my whole heart)

Every time I get a comment, like, reblog, or feedback of any kind, my heart grows three sizes. Seriously, I'm so honored when people enjoy what I write!

Always looking for new internet friends!

~~~~~~~~~~

Masterlist:

Note: WIP's are “Eddie Munson vs the World,” "we can be heroes," and “every city’s got a graveyard." Ficlets won't be linked here but I will have them all tagged under "dailydrabble"

Stranger Things (follows the general canon of the show):

"Back to the Future (Hawkins Edition)" - (OC travels back in time and lives through the canon show, season 4 fix-it, 132K words) this one is my fav you guys go read it on Ao3 here

“i’m counting the days to the rapture” - (all canon characters who died on the show reunite, 40K words) found here and on Ao3

“Every city’s got a graveyard” - (Buffy x Stranger Things crossover) - still in its early stages but the first chapter can be found here!

Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington:

“songs that voices never share” - (alternate canon Steve goes deaf after season 3 and meets Eddie, who can sign, 70K words) found here and on Ao3

"we can be heroes" - (Part 2 of the Deaf Steve AU, season 4 rewrite/fix-it in Eddie's POV) found here

“I wanna cut to the feeling” (modern day AU enemies to lovers slow burn feat Rockstar!Eddie and Hairstylist!Steve, 79K words) - Chapter 1-5 found here, the rest found on Ao3!

“I can’t tune you out” - (Rockstar!Eddie/Musician!Steve fake dating enemies to lovers slow burn, 113K words) found here and on Ao3

"Freaky Friday (Steddie's Version)" - (enemies to lovers body swap shenanigans, 36K words) found here and on Ao3

"flowers and ink" - (tattoo artist x flower shop modern day au, 21K words) found here and on Ao3

"Stranger Therapy" - (first date at couples counseling with Dr. Murray, 13K words) found here and on Ao3

“Eddie Munson vs the World” - (very camp WIP in the style of Scott Pilgrim) found here

“That ‘90s Fic” (post-canon cute fic for the Valentine’s Day fic exchange 2023! 5.5K words) found here and on Ao3

“Daisies” (requested one shot of Eddie giving his best friend Steve flowers for Valentine’s Day) - found here on Tumblr and here on Ao3

"mysterious ways" - (Steddie week 2023, Kas!Eddie/Steve post canon season 4, 12K words) found here and on Ao3

“The Marriage of Bigfoot and Mothman” found here and on Ao3

"Do I wanna know?" - (modern day AU fluffy one shot) found here and on Ao3

STWG April Fools Day Swap (one shot where Steddie saves a wounded bunny) found here

“Like real people do” - (one shot written for the STWG’s Hozier collection, 1K words) found here

"Well, this is new" found here. The follow-up, "A Different Kind of Nervous," is only on Ao3 (idk why lol). Part 3, “Hands,” found here. Ao3 links for part one, two, and three

Robin Buckley x Nancy Wheeler:

“No Way” (featuring one of my fav lines I've ever written) found here, Ao3 link here

“Best Friends” (another tumblr exclusive!) found here

“I wanted her to look at me” (aka Robin liked Nancy instead of Tammy Thompson) found here, Ao3 link here

The Fruity Four (Robin/Nancy/Steve/Eddie):

“Barb is alive!” (AU request) here, Ao3 link here

"Teleplatonic" (Robin can read Steve's mind, no romance just Stobin) here, Ao3 link here

“Who looks like the better kisser?” - (very short and sweet) found here, Ao3 link here

“This is gonna be fun” (aka the two couples decide to be each other's beards) found here, Ao3 link here

"Steve is NOT Straight" (feat platonic Stobin baybeee) here, Ao3 link here

Misc Content (not fic related):

Steve Harrington (Taylor’s Version) - collab with the Tumblr bestie! Found here

Chaotic Stranger Things Headcanons (part one, part two, part three)

Songs that I associate with the characters

Steve Harrington as a cat AU (shitpost collab with my Tumblr bestie, truly a treat and v chaotic, you'll love it)

Cover art for my fic “I can’t tune you out” done by my Tumblr bestie 🥰

How the characters would react to you coming out

Random hair opinions

I still might write this essay on S4 costuming lol

Robin/Nancy parallel with Steve (lowkey sad but also go Ronance) found here

Ronance evidence - found here

My Maya Hawke concert experience!

Byler x Scott Pilgrim meme - found here

Joe Quinn moments - First late night appearance and the falling blooper

List of confirmed JQ improvised moments

Very valid question

Stancy x Taylor Swift (Midnight Rain) found here

Quick Steddie headcanon

Steve is simply A Dad (and I love him)

Theory about season 5, Eddie, and inconsistencies

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Inbox is always open for questions, concerns, feedback, hot takes, requests, or literally whatever as long as you're not weird about it.

Love youuuuuu

#masterlist #figured I'd finally make it a separate post #literally this took forever I'm so bad at technology #my tagging system used to be such a mess it was hard to organize everything lol #me #pinned post #stranger things #st fanfic #stranger things writing #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #the fruity four #steddie #ronance

[thechangeling]

Writing an angsty Stobin fic and the title comes from this song I don’t know why I torture myself

Ouch....😭😭😭 This is such a beautiful song though. I love platonic Stobin so much. I can't wait to read your fic!

#asks #mutuals! #rory tag! #platonic love is importent actually

[uppastthejelliclemoon]

Ao3 Fic Masterpost

alright, this is going to be a bit of a long post, but i have been meaning to make this for a while!

so my Ao3 is hearth_goddess, in case some of you didn’t know!

i know i post most of my updates for my fics on this blog, but i thought i’d just do a whole masterpost of all the fics i have on my Ao3, with a bit of a summary on the series and why they’re organized the way they are!

check out my fics if you haven’t already, and feel free to send me prompts and/or suggestions!

Non-Cats Stories: these are stories I’ve written that aren’t in the Cats category at all, but I still love them! 

back then was when we touched the starlight: my first Starlight Express story! I loved writing this, and I’d love to write more StEx in the future!

Soldier, Poet, King: a Percy Jackson/Heroes of Olympus songfic I wrote concerning my favorite trio of demigods. After listening to the song over and over again, I realized how well it fit, and I had to write something, and this is what came of that!

Choices: My first fic published on Ao3, and a Carlos-centric Disney Descendants story that doubles as a tribute to the late, amazing Cameron Boyce.

after the strike: a 1992 Newsies fic that I rewrote after posting it years ago on ff.net! I’m a sucker for protective!Jack Kelly, so this fic is purely self-indulgent!

and they lived happily ever after: literally pure Belle and Adam fluff for the 30th Anniversary of my favorite Disney movie!!

Chronicles of Narnia: i'm planning on adding more fics to this section, because CoN is so important to me

oh, brother of mine: a peter-centric story that focuses around peter's thought process as he finds edmund on the battlefield after jadis is killed

Stranger Things: the growing list of fics I've written that focus around the Stranger things characters

show no fear, for he may fade away: a stranger things fic focusing on Dustin getting Vecna'd and Steve being the best big brother bc i think they deserve some hugs <3

to the boy i wish was my brother: What Max wrote in her letter to Steve, plus Steve getting to cuddle with his two favorite kids

if you only hold me tight, we'll be holding on forever: the most angsty platonic soulmates Stobin fic that takes place during s5

come back to me, please: more Stobin s5 scenarios, except this one is soft and full of emotional reunions between my beloved dinguses

The Madrigal Triplets and their Mirabel: some sweet, short fics about Julieta, Pepa, and Bruno and their daughter/niece, Mirabel

green glasses: a sweet, fluffy, slightly angsty fic focusing on Bruno and Mirabel Madrigal from “Encanto”! I love their relationship, and couldn’t resist writing something for them!

little cloud: a short fic that focuses on Pepa and Mirabel Madrigal, and their relationship prior to the events of the movie and during the movie.

quiet smiles: a short focusing on Julieta and Mirabel Madrigal, and Julieta's inner monologue about the changes that she sees in her daughters prior to, during, and after the events of the movie.

we see how brave you've been: Pepa, Julieta, and Bruno's perspectives during Antonio's Gift ceremony and Mirabel's ceremony at the end of the movie.

visions: A brief glimpse into Bruno's visions, and how Mirabel became his favorite sobrina, even before she was born.

Aboard the Havoc Marauder: a collection of shorts about the Bad Batch, Omega, and their adventures around the galaxy!

is there an echo?: my first Star Wars fic featuring my favorite group of boys, the Domino Squad from Clone Wars, and the Bad Batch! (but specifically feat. Echo, because I love him.)

bigger than any of us: the Echo and Rex hug we should have gotten at the end of episode 7 of The Bad Batch, complete with some emotional heart to heart between the boys!

no one cares who your father was, only the father you will be: just Omega and her five dads being the softest family in the galaxy. They get all the hugs they very much deserve in this fic!

guilty conscience: Echo’s reaction after Hunter orders the Batch to leave him behind, and the overwhelming guilt that follows.

shadows: Echo being the best ori’vod to Crosshair, and Crosshair finally getting the hugs he deserves from his two older siblings (hint, the other older sibling isn’t Hunter)

a vod's hug: Echo's hugs, and how there is definitely something a little magical going on

plan 88: how season 2 should have ended, aka my determination in my delusions about Fives being alive and him and Echo reuniting

Standalone: these stories are part of the Cats category, but don’t fit in with any of my series!

Hearth’s Writing Corner: a collection of all the shorts I’ve written here on Tumblr, mostly Cats. Categories vary and updates are random.

tomorrow they’ll see what we are: my Cats/Newsies AU!! I’m so proud of this fic, and getting to write a story for two of my favorite musicals has been so much fun.

the magi-coolest cat: my forbidden Tuggoffelees fic that was 100% supposed to be written as a joke but i took it a little too seriously and now it’s one of my favorite stories.

The Alley Cat: my Thomas O'Malley is a Jellicle fic that focuses around him, Skimbleshanks, and his reunion with his family in the Junkyard.

Jellicle Prompts and Jellicle Shorts: these are the fics I’ve written that take place within the “canon” Cats Universe, though aren’t canon within each other

A Cursed Dream: Munkustrap-centric

The Adventures of Plato, Alonzo, and Etcetera: just a couple little snippets about some underrated kitties!

A Jellicle Through and Through: George-centric

Mr. Vague and Aloof and his Terrible Bore: Tuggoffelees-centric

His Precious Flower: Munkustrap and Jemima-centric

Terms of Endearment: Tuggoffelees-centric

The Story of Seven Kittens: Mistoffelees-centric

Until the Jellicle Moon Appears: Munkustrap tells the kittens about how the Jellicles came to be

hush my darling, don’t fear my darling: Deut Bros-centric

hold on tight, we shall never let go: Alonzo-centric

thrill of the chase: Tuggoffelees-centric

We’re A Family, We Stick Together: a human AU feat. OCs created by myself and my mutuals!

***please pay attention to the tags/warnings in some of these fics

Serafina’s Story: OC-centric

Jubilee’s Story: OC-centric

Athena’s Story: OC-centric

making the choice: Tuggoffelees and OC-centric

settling in: Tuggoffelees and OC-centric

ornaments and family: Jellicles-centric

don’t take the girl: Deuteronomy Bros+their girls-centric

i keep your memory, you visit me in my sleep: Seruggoffelees-centric

the long way home: Macavity-centric

missed opportunities: Seruggoffelees-centric

twitterpated: CanonxOC pairings-centric

1998/2019 Switch: the full versions of the blurbs and brief plots i mapped out here on tumblr under the same tag!

The Magicians: Mistoffelees-centric

Hearth and Home: stories concerning my OC, Hestia the Hearth Cat, and everything within her “canon”! these fics often feature the OCs of some of my mutuals, and i always list whose OCs are whose!

heart of stone: Serafina's backstory and how she left Macavity

Hearth and Home: How Hestia came to live with Tugger and Mistoffelees

The Hearth Cat and the Library Cat: Hestia and Jubilee meet

The Jellicle Ball: Hestia’s first Ball (aka the Musical Ball)

Ghosts: Hestia meets a stranger who seem oddly familiar

Family Photo: Tuggoffelees + their kids take a picture together!

Halloween: Some unexpected visitors come to the Junkyard

the pocket watch: Tumblebrutus gives Hestia a very special gift

i thought i'd never see your sweet face again: a 5+1 Tumbletta story within the Henchcat!Tumble AU

Tuggoffelees Week 2020: all the prompts from Tuggoffeelees Week 2020, including a prompt that launched the inspiration for my Newsies AU!

curls and coffee: First Meeting, Human AU

kisses and coffee: Kisses, Human AU

buttons and maybe: Fight/Reconciliation, 2019-verse

sure as a star: Favorite AU, Newsies

dyin’ ain’t so bad: Kidnapping, 1998, warning for character death

terribly aloof, vaguely boring: Personality Switch, 1998

i think i wanna marry you: Wedding/Engagement

Macavity's Victims: these are “canon” compliant stories that focus on the Deuteronomy brothers and Demeter and Bombalurina’s relationship

The Tale of Two Sisters and Three Brothers: how Demeter and Bombalurina ended up with Macavity, and what happened when they returned to the Junkyard.

A Strange Sense of Peace: After the Ball, and another semi-analysis of the Deuteronomy Brothers

#liv's writing corner #cats the musical #newsies #cats/newsies au #starlight express #percy jackson #heroes of olympus #disney descendants #hestia the hearth cat #the rum tum tugger #mr mistoffelees #munkustrap #demeter #macavity #bombalurina #cats the musical ocs #tuggoffelees family human au #i will be updating this as i post new stories! #pinned post #star wars #the bad batch #star wars the clone wars #stranger things #chronicles of narnia

[katyawriteswhump]

the power of love, part 11 (steddie, steve whump fic, stobin)

Alternate ending S4: Steve has a habit of surviving near death experiences then getting sick for no reason. And Eddie and those fatal bat bites? After an impossible feat of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation from Steve, he’s mysteriously fixed. So, Eddie’s back to being banished, this time with Steve and Robin in tow. Eddie’s healing, but Steve isn’t… and life gets even more confusing, when Eddie develops feelings for Steve, which aren’t entirely unrequited.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 12 Part 13

(also on AO3 here and as part of my steve whump fic series)

Steve POV

1978—Lover’s Lake

Steve sinks, pulls upward with all he’s got left. He bursts through the surface, screaming: “Dad! Mom! Dad? I’m… lost… Heeeelp!”

The dark waters close seamlessly above his head.

His panic dies quickly, along with the burning pressure in his chest. He sees a swimmer approaching across the depths, like a light rippling through gloom. Their face is kind and strange—he can’t tell if they’re young or really old, or a guy or girl.

“Not yet,” they say. Their arms fold around him, and he’s calm and he isn’t cold. 

Until he is. 

A thousand icy needles jab at his skin, and he whimpers at the sensation of being dragged, carried. Voices shout in harsh, frightening tones, and then…

Apart from in his dreams, he doesn’t see THEM again for another seven years.

“Who do you work for?” demands that Soviet son-of-a-bitch, for the billionth time. 

Steve is tied up, bloodied, not sure if he’s laughing or crying. He’s sure as heck losing his mind, and… wtf? 

The other Soviet bastard raises his hand.

“Oh, come on! No, no, no, seriously?”

Steve doesn’t see the blow coming. Pain flashes up and darkness slams down—the darkness of blood, a rising, relentless tide. It washes him back into that calm place, and all his panic and pain float away.

He sees THEM again, in the fearless dark. 

“Still not yet,” they whisper.

The echoes hook him back. It’s Robin: “Help, heeeeelp!”

Oh yeah, they’ve been captured by the Soviets.

“My ears are ringing,” he tells her, “I can’t properly breathe, and I feel like my eyes’s about to pop out of my skull. Apart from that, I’m doing pretty good.”

He shouldn’t be, though. If there wasn’t so much else to be shitting himself about, he’d be yelling it loud enough to deafen them both. After that mauling from Hargrove, the doctor’s warning had been brutal. Any more head trauma, and he might have a stroke, a brain bleed, go blind, deaf, lose his memory, go mad. He could even die. He should be dead now, right?

Then it all gets even whackier. 

A blue tide rushes through the Soviet base. He yells for Robin, but everything’s already obliterated. The waters carry him along, limbs flailing free, no longer hurting, not even so scared. He knows it’s THEM, although this tsunami isn’t gentle. It’s Niagara levels of powerful and near as water can get to fire and fury. 

“You’ll know,” they tell him. “You’ll know when it’s time to come home.”

Then he’s back in the present, slowly waking up.  

He figures he’s been dreaming. Yeah, about those evil Soviets, and about… stuff that didn’t happen. Where the hell did that flood and fire crap come from?

“You’ll know when it’s time to come home.”

It’s deeply freaky, and he hates it. And Jesus Christ, why is his shoulder a screaming mess of pain? He opens his eyes.

“Robin?” She’s in her usual spot, sitting on the edge of his bunk. 

“Steve? Oh, thank God!”

“What happened this time? I’m so sick of…” He raises his head, flops it back again. There’s a bone-deep ache through his neck and both his arms. His wrists feel mangled. “Shit! Somebody was coming! Did they… Where’s Eddie?”

She puffs through her nostrils. “It’s okay. It was Hopper and El.”

Yeah, that makes some sorta sense. Hopper and Eleven were on the run too, after all. “Where’s Eddie? Is he all right?”

“Don’t ask me. Not spoken to him since he left you unconscious, hanging by one wrist. What was he even thinking?”

Blood rushes to Steve’s face. “That wasn’t entirely his fault. Honestly, I… uh…”

“I don’t care if you begged him on one knee! It was utterly moronic.”

“Listen, I was a moron too—it was matching moronic-ness. We were fooling around, and… Look, I passed out after he left to warn you. Before that, I basically forced him to go.”

“Forced him while roped up? You get yet another pass, Dingus. It’s gonna take a short-to-medium-length Ice Age for him to earn the same.”

Steve sighs hard. He’ll talk her around when he’s gotten the energy.

“Steve, can I ask you something?” She picks at the last flakes of that nail polish..

“If I said ‘no,’ would it make any difference?”

“Do you know anything about the fantastically random rainstorm last night?”

“About the whut?” 

His mind starts racing, in sync with his pulse. Trouble is, he’s beginning to get it. He knows that they—that thing in Lover’s Lake—saved his life. More than once. He still hasn’t got a clue about the rain. Or has he?

You freaked out last night, and thunder clouds hijacked your brain.

“Steve? You okay?”

“Jesus, I’m…” Nope, still not great. He slowly sits up. Under the blanket, he’s shirtless. He catches his left arm with his right, cradling it.

“Does your shoulder hurt bad?”

“No, Robin. It’s just randomly gone purple. Gonna be pitching for the Hoosiers this weekend for sure.” He notices one of his wrists is bandaged. “Got any of those left? Guess I’ll need a sling or something.”

“Yeah, I tried the lake water trick. Not much happened this time. On the other hand, Hopper said it was a miracle you didn’t dislocate it, so…  I’ll, uh, go get him. He’s got a ton of fresh supplies."

She goes, and Steve painfully eases his way into a clean shirt. It turns out to be another Hellfire Club one, which Eddie brought back from his meet at Skull Rock. Oh genius, Henderson, just brilliant! Get Eddie and me walking around with targets painted on our chests, why don’t you? Worse, I’m gonna look like a nerd. With TERRIBLE HAIR. The effort of getting his sweater on over it all, literally brings tears to his eyes. 

Then he sits up straight, on the edge of the bunk. He supports his bad arm, while forcing his features into his best ‘don’t-give-a-damn’ mask. 

When Hopper stoops under the door of the bunkroom, Steve’s jaw drops anyhow. He barely recognises the guy. Uh… wow? He’s not wearing a police uniform, but he still looks in goddamn charge, with an Indiana-Jones style hat that screams authority. He’s even gotten his hands on what looks like a police-issue firearm, in a halter at his side.

“Hey,” says Hopper. “You got yourself pretty beat up again, huh?”

“My shoulder hurts,” he whispers. It comes out so humiliatingly shakily, that when Hopper takes off his hat and sits down beside him, Steve looks away sharply. Oh, for Christ’s sake! He sniffs, dabs his eyes, pulls himself together. “It’s not so bad,” he mumbles.

“Yeah? You got tough joints, kid.”

Steve bites his lip to the point of pain.

Hopper’s brought a first-aid kit, and he fashions a sling for him. As he does, he fills Steve in on a few more details of how the hell he came back from the dead. Also, about what’s been going on in Hawkins, which is basically under military occupation. He ties the sling behind Steve’s neck, squeezes his good shoulder. “You take it easy. Sun’s up and we’ll be off in a few minutes.”

Hopper heads out. Steve scowls at his back. 

He ought to be relieved Hopper’s here. Admittedly, he’s been a total flop at taking care of himself and the others. Which only makes him more pissed with Hopper. How could somebody go through that in a Soviet gulag, win a wrestling match with demo-gorgons, and still come out alive, swinging, and the toughest dude in the state?

He gets his sneakers on and staggers as far as the door. Robin is loading the remnants of their supplies into an armoured Humvee, painted in military khaki and spattered with mud. Hopper’s fiddling under the hood, and Eleven hovers nearby. She gives Steve a sort-of smile, which he returns, while seething, 

That sick son-of-a-bitch Brenner took her hair again?

 “Where’s Eddie?” he asks, stepping further out, while fighting a wave of dizziness.

“Skulking,” calls Eddie, sloping out from some hiding spot. Robin folds her arms and stomps away. Steve squelches across the sticky ground toward Eddie. He looks so forlorn—hair flattened like a soggy puppy’s—that Steve can’t help grinning. 

“Sorry,” mouths Steve. “Sucky timing, huh?”

Eddie pulls a silly face, which doesn’t reach his pink eyes. Steve edges closer. Eddie shuffles back, looking genuinely spooked, which sends Steve’s mood into free-fall. 

He sits down heavily on Eddie’s empty beer-crate and nods at the Humvee. “You guys stole that baby?”

“Had to get around the roadblocks somehow,” says Hopper. “That rain churned up a ton of mud. It’s gonna slow them down, but it’s gonna slow us down too. We gotta move.”

“We? Why are we all going?” Steve hates this idea. Even more than he hates how he’s defaulting to surly teenager mode. He wonders—not for the first time though not for the billionth—if his actual parents have given him up for dead. “Don’t wanna seem ungrateful, Chief, but I really don’t feel like a road trip.” 

“O’Sullivan has torn Hawkins apart, searching for El. Next, he’s gonna have the army sweep this whole area. You won’t stand a chance.”

“Can’t we go back to those caves?” Steve mumbles toward his mud-flecked sneakers. 

“When they find you,” says Hopper, “best-case scenario—they hand Munson here over the police, or the cronies who count for it these days. Worst case-scenario? O’Sullivan keeps hold of him, as well as you.”

“Why the heck would some army guy be interested in me?”

He senses Hopper close in. “You signed the NDAs, Steve. They know YOU know about Eleven. They’ve interrogated Joyce and Jonathan, but there’s only so much they can do with people they can’t easily ‘disappear.’ If they think you’ve got intel as to her whereabouts… You get where I’m going with this?”

“So what?” Steve can’t look up. Like before, he can’t let Hopper see. “W-won’t be the first time I’ve been tortured.”

“Yeah, and I’m sorry, kid. But tough talk ain’t gonna save you.”

“They kill people,” says Eleven. “I didn’t want to run, to leave Mike. To leave Max.” She sounds so very sad. “We had no choice.”

“I honestly don’t think we have much choice either, Steve,” says Robin, emerging from the cabin behind with the blankets. “Hop’s got more bottled water from Lover’s Lake in the truck. If you get sick or hurt, it could help.”

On being reminded of all that shit, Steve rubs his face, groans.

“We gonna talk about that now?” asks Eddie. “You know, the ginormous, soggy elephant spouting water out of its trunk? The one giving Steve buffed-to-the-max powers?”

“Powers?” Steve’s forced laugh comes out way too loud. “El can throw cars around with her mind, rip holes in dimensions. I can heal stuff. A bit. Then I pass out for half a day. It’s pointless.”

“Neeeewsflash,” sings Eddie. “You brought me back from the dead. Not pointless, I hope.”

Steve laughs again, totally hollow. What Eddie says feels fake, somehow. Was that even really him, or… Ugh, his head is too muddled.

“Using my powers tires me out too,” adds Eleven.

“Uh, hello? Can we please discuss the super-magical weather?” Having flung the bedding in the Humvee, Robin flings her arms toward the skies. “Twice, we were in danger. Twice, Steve rearranged the heavens to cover our sorry asses.”

Steve huffs: “Robin, I have no control over—"

“You have to learn control,” says Eleven.

“We can talk about this on the journey.” Hopper takes Steve by the elbow. He urges him to his feet, finally forcing Steve to slam him with a full-on glare. “C’mon, get in.”

Part 12

tags: @estrellami-1 @kal-ology @finntheehumaneater (thank you, thank you, thank you!) If anybody else would like to be tagged on this fic or any of my writing, please let me know :) Reblogs, comments and likes also very much appreciated :) Thank you for reading so far :)

(also part of my steve whump fic series on AO3)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 12 Part 13

#steve x eddie #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #steve harrington whump #steddie fanfic #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson #stobin fanfic #platonic stobin #stobin #stobin fic #stobin friendship #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington hurt/comfort

[katyawriteswhump]

the power of love part 2 (new steddie, stobin, steve whump fic)

Steve has a habit of surviving near death experiences then getting sick for no reason. And Eddie and those fatal bat bites? After an impossible feat of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation from Steve, he’s mysteriously fixed. So, Eddie’s back to being banished, this time with Steve and Robin in tow. Eddie’s healing, but Steve isn’t… and life gets even more confusing, when Eddie develops feelings for Steve, which aren’t entirely unrequited.

Part one here Also on AO3 (where it's tragically in need of some love *sobs*) Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

Chapter Two

Steve POV

Steve blinks his eyes open. Fear lurches then fades. Leaning over him, kinda blurry, are… Robin? Munson!?! He’s at home. Lying on the couch in his parents’ living room, to be precise.

“Steve? You back with us?” Robin appears wild-eyed, spooked out. She’s holding a bloodied cloth over his bat bites, which stab like new again.

Steve presses the heel of his hand to his brow, disguising his pained whimper with a shaky, “Yeeeeah.”

“Phew! Not delirious? Only a bit woozy, huh?”

“You seriously still shitting yourself about rabies?”

“To be honest, no. That’s slithered so far down my list of things to lose my mind over, I’d forgotten. Trust me, he’s as likely to have it as you now.”

Eddie, who hovers at her shoulder, pokes out his tongue, kinda jokey. The rest of Eddie’s face is still slightly blood-smeared. Haunted. His hair is a mad mess, his bandana repurposed as a bandage about his elbow. Steve glances down his own aching body, which is damp, vaguely shivery. Near naked, in fact, with a towel tucked around his waist.

Oh yeah. He went for a swim, and then… 

“Shit! Are you seriously mopping my blood with Mom’s linen napkins?” Steve tries to push himself up, and flops back down, humiliatingly fast. On top of that, his head throbs—when does it not, these days? He makes a more concerted effort to sit, forcing himself through a wave of nausea and dizziness, then notices: “Shit, shit, SHIT! I’ve bled on the couch—this cost a thousand bucks!”

“I knew there was a reason Wayne avoided white faux leather,” says Eddie, as he and Robin share a look. “Oh, and a Munson never splashes less than fifteen-hundred bucks on soft furnishings.”

“You’re hilarious,” mutters Steve.

“Your Pops can chew my head off,” says Eddie. “Some of that blood is yours truly’s. I mean, I got got bad. Really bad. And theeeeen… I got better.” He narrows his eyes to inquisitorial slits, which bewilder Steve, given how rough he feels.

Robin lifts the ruined napkin. “You’re bleeding like before Wheeler first bandaged you up. It makes no sense.”

“Nothing’s made sense for about two and a half years,” Steve points out. Actually, scratch that. Little of his life has made much sense. “There’s a first aid kit in the kitchen, with proper bandages. Where did you think I got the Hibistat towelettes from? Didn’t you morons think to look?”

Robin hurries off. Eddie takes over holding the now thoroughly disgusting napkin over Steve’s bites. “Woah, he’s not lying,” she calls. “His parents keep an actual first aid kit with actual useful crap in it.”

“Yeah, in case you forgot in the last thirty seconds,” says Steve, “the Harrington family bleed.”

“It doesn’t even come out green,” Eddie says. “Totally destroys your ‘rich folk are aliens’ theory, Buckley.”

“Haha,” snarks Steve.

“This might take a minute,” calls Robin. “I had no idea there were so many sorts of dressings. We don’t want a triangle one, huh?”

Left alone, Eddie doesn’t seem able to look Steve in the eye. He’s giving off such awkward vibes that Steve takes pity, nudges Eddie’s hand away, holds the napkin himself.

“I guess this is where I thank you for saving my life,” says Eddie.

“From what I could gather from Dustin, you’d only gone and done the same for us. Not a hero? Total bull.”

“Those weren’t normal circumstances.” 

Eddie’s so squirmy, Steve flinches away too. He’s felt drawn to Eddie for some time. He likes the guy way more than he’d expected, finds he likes looking at him too, crazy rocker tresses and all, but… Jesus Christ! Talk about shitty timing.

It’s not the first time Steve’s been blindsided by a crush on a guy. Plus, he knows Eddie is queer; he’s one of the few other friends that Robin’s lately ‘come out’ to. However, Steve’s simply not gotten the energy to figure out if the weird fizzle of chemistry he feels is all in his head. What he really wants is to stagger upstairs to bed and sleep for a week. No time for that, though. He groans, threads the fingers of his free hand through his damp hair.

 “We need to take advantage of this earthquake chaos. Get you outta town right now before somebody comes looking.”

“Yeah. I figured as much.” Eddie sighs hard. “No more facing down ferocious monsters. I return to being Eddie the Banished.”

“Not much choice, man. Look, we can bring bedding, whatever supplies we need from here. Take one of Dad’s cars and find a place to lay low till we know what’s happening and what the next plan of attack is.”

“You were worried about the couch and now you’re suggesting we jack your Pop’s wheels?”

“I don’t give a crap about the furniture—it was a dumb knee jerk reaction. I mean, things change. People change. Last time I looked, we weren’t exactly bestest buds.”

Now we’re off saving each other’s lives.

A loud crash from the kitchen slices between them. “Sorry!” yells Robin. “Kinda dropped… everything.”

“Need some help there, Rob?” Steve tries to push himself to his feet. His head rush is instant and epic; his vision blacks out, nearly taking his entire consciousness with it.

“Easy, easy!” Eddie’s arms are around him, clumsily guiding him back down. Steve whimpers before he can stop himself; his stomach churns and he feels painfully sick. Eddie wedges a cushion beneath Steve’s head, presses the cloth back to Steve’s bleeding side. “Robin’s right. You need those injuries looked at. I go alone.”

“No.” Steve snatches a shaky breath. “Way I see it, we’re both deep in the shit."

“I’m the one with the murder rap snapping at my butt, Harrington.”

“And I’m the one who’s been harbouring a known fugitive, stealing Winnebagos, and Christ knows what else. Crap, I bet they’ll blame me for Nance’s sawn-off shotgun. While the rest of those underage brats get off light, I’ll be dragged to jail as sure as you.”

“Your daddy can afford a lawyer, man.” At least Eddie’s looking at Steve now. His words still feel like a punch in Steve’s already bleeding gut—with those knuckle dusters that’d gotten lost somewhere on the ride.

Steve retaliates with as daggers a glare as he can conjure: “You wanna thank me for saving your life, Munson? Then stop trying to ditch me.”

Part 3

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

...

tags: @estrellami-1 (thank you, thank you, thank you!) If anybody else would like to be tagged on this fic or any of my writing, I would probably cry... in a good way, honest! Reblogs, comments and likes also very much appreciated :)

#steddie #steve harrington whump #platonic stobin #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve harrington hurt/comfort #steve harrington hc #stranger things fanfic #steddie fic #steve x eddie #steve harrington #stobin #steve harrington fanfic #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction

[katyawriteswhump]

The power of love, part 10 (steddie, stobin, steve whump fic)

Steve has a habit of surviving near-death experiences then getting sick for no reason. And Eddie and those fatal bat bites? After an impossible feat of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation from Steve, he’s mysteriously fixed. So, Eddie’s back to being banished, this time with Steve and Robin in tow. Eddie’s healing, but Steve isn’t… and life gets even more confusing, when Eddie develops feelings for Steve, which aren’t entirely unrequited.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 11 Part 12

Contains mild kink (under-negotiated and going slightly wrong—all for plotty purposes, honest!)

(also on AO3 here)

...

Steve POV continued

“You sure about this, Stevie?”

“What part of ‘let’s do this’ do you not get?” 

Steve unwinds himself from Eddie. He peels his sweater over his head then glances down at the bandages… Screw it, can’t think about it now.

“Damn,” breathes Eddie, apparently drooling too hard to care. “I totally dreamed about this, when I luuuuurved to hate you. Okay, hate is kinda overkill but—”

“Yeah, I was a douche. Blah, blah, blah.” Steve shivers lightly, pitches the sweater at Eddie, who totally fails to catch it. “If this is some freak show revenge kink—”

“Wasn’t like that—seriously, you have no idea. It was, uh…” Eddie ventures closer. Under the quivering beams of the flashlight, his dark eyes seem impossibly large and liquid. “I used to watch you in the pool—you were so disgustingly squeaky clean. I wanted to drag you into the deepest, darkest recesses of my dungeon-master mind and, ahem…”

“I needed bringing down a peg?” Steve gets right in Eddie’s face.

“Not even that.” Eddie’s deadly serious. “Just wanted you aaaaall for myself.”

Steve smirks—best way to disguise the candy-ass swirl of butterflies in his belly—then steps back and spreads his arms. “I’m all yours. Knock yourself out.”

Eddie gets some rope, hooks it over a high beam, and climbs on a crate to fasten it in place. He then plants a palm on Steve’s bare chest, backing him up against a wooden post. Steve smirks harder than ever, if only to distract himself—and Eddie—from the heart hammering insanely beneath Eddie’s hand. Jesus Christ, don’t think! Focus on the hotness.

Eddie reaches up to grab one end of the rope, loop it around one of Steve’s wrists. Steve tugs himself free: “You do know what you’re doing here, right?”

“Believe me, my uncle is worse than any overgrown boy-scout leader. Not sure he taught me knots and shit for exactly these purposes, but… anyhoo.”

“Okay. Got one condition. You get shirtless too.”

Eddie’s grin makes Steve ache in all sorts of fun places. “Guess I can indulge you, Babe.”

“Babe? I was a brat five minutes ago. Make yer mind up.”

Eddie flips the bird, turns away and strips. Steve lolls against the post, despite longing to drag his tongue over every salty inch of Eddie’s torso. Jesus, he never knew he had a shoulder and back kink, because… Gnnng! And those tats, stark against Eddie’s pale skin? As Eddie turns back, Steve drinks them all in. Even the goddamn bats, which should be scary as hell these days, are beyond intoxicating, and seem to dance and spin and…

“Ready now?” Eddie grabs the rope.

Steve fakes a yawn. “Getting old waiting, Munson.” 

“You really are a brat, you know that? C’mon, gimme your hand.”

Eddie ties Steve’s right wrist with a loopy, hitchy knot. He tugs another part of the rope, suspending Steve’s wrist in the air above him.

“How ya doing, big boy?” Eddie grazes his fingers, feather-light, down the light stubble on Steve’s cheek.

“Never better.” 

Steve swallows hard, offers Eddie his other hand. The exquisite concentration on Eddie’s face, the tip of pink tongue at the corner of his mouth, is hilarious. Eddie’s half-naked body is totally smokin’, and yet…

Steve’s eyes drift closed. Those butterflies in his stomach are fast transforming into a horde of angry wasps. He’s had his hands tied before, by the Soviets and… Dammit, is this really distracting him from anything? I DIED IN 1978. I DIED! His breaths come faster, shallower. Nevertheless, he bites his lip against asking Eddie to stop, to slow down even. Don’t spoil this, Harrington.

“Stevie, you sure you’re okay?”

As soon as his gaze meets Eddie’s, Steve’s anxiety fades a little, and he nods. He tugs lightly at Eddie’s handiwork, now complete, and a snigger he genuinely feels tugs the corner of his lips. While the ropes don’t dig in, he doesn’t think he could easily yank himself free.

Okay, this is definitely kinda hot. Like the channel of air between their bare chests, which honestly, steams like a sauna. He’s always been in control in sexual relationships, always taking the lead. Lately, yeah, it’s felt kinda dull almost, as if he’s been going through the motions. Now, his nerves still jangle, but simply losing himself again in Eddie’s soulful eyes, he’s getting a goddamn semi. He peeps down, and the strain at Eddie’s fly suggests he’s suffering the same.

“What you gonna do next, Munson?” he husks.

“Stevie, I… I…” Eddie steps back, plows all eight fingers deep into that lush hair. “Seriously, now I got you like this, I have no clue, other than I want to kiss you so bad.”

“I want that so bad too.” 

Eddie kisses his own knuckles, dusts them across Steve’s lips, setting Steve squirming, keening even. His heart and his every goddamn fibre strain madly toward Eddie. Then an unexpected rumbling noise clamps those same fibres super-tight.

“Fuck!” Eddie’s half-lidded eyes stretch wide. “More choppers?” 

“No… No. Sounds like a truck or something.”

“How?”

“Robin said there was a track, remember? Shit, shit, shit! Turn the flashlight off. Now.”

Eddie obeys. Pitch darkness slams down. “Fine,” says Steve, struggling to keep it together. “You gotta untie me, man.”

“Right. Yeah.”

Cold sweat carves rivulets down the back of Steve’s neck, soaking the hair as his nape, while Eddie fumbles at the rope. Eddie’s frantic, singsong voice unsettles Steve further: “Nooooo. Can’t see what I’m doing.”

“You tied the dumb things? How hard can it be!”

“Stop struggling. You’re making the knots tighter.” 

“Oh.” Steve hadn’t realized he was doing that. “Sorry. Sorry.”

Eddie switches the flashlight back on. 

“Are you insane?” hisses Steve.

“Not the expert I thought I was, okay? I’m gonna have to slice them. Don’t wanna slice you.” Eddie retrieves a flick-knife from his back pocket, starts hacking above Steve’s right wrist. “Aaaaargh! You blunted this thing slashing your way through that goddamn jungle.”

“Somebody had to carve a path for you two great wusses. Just… Don’t be a klutz.”

“Aaaaah, I suck at this, Stevie. I don’t like this. I don’t like this.”

Neither does Steve. An engine revs and grinds, waaaay too close. “Turn the stupid light off. Go! Warn Robin. She’s a heavy sleeper.”

“But—”

“DO IT!” Steve’s furious desperation hits home. Eddie kills the flashlight, leaving Steve tethered by the wrists. Totally helpless.

Calm down, calm down. Focus, Harrington. Free yourself and then you can help them.

He grits his teeth, tugs again at the ropes. They simply bite deeper into his flesh. Nevertheless, Eddie has sawed partially through the rope above his right wrist. He throws everything into that, shoulder and biceps burning, until…

Snap.

His right wrist flies free, and he slumps forward into the darkness. Which makes the bonds around his left wrist snare super-tight, like he was caught in an animal trap.

Ooow! Oh great, just great.

He staggers upright to slacken the remaining rope, gives it a single strenuous tug then pulls short, gasping. At this rate, he’s gonna squeeze his own goddamn hand off.

He hears murmured voices—Eddie? Robin? Two beams of dusky white light streak through the small windows of the cabin—headlamps!?! 

His increasingly feeble struggles dry up. Whoever is coming is nearly here, and he wants to punch something, to kick something. Anything! He’d do anything to protect Eddie and Robin. Anything… Anything.

Giddiness swirls through his body like a mist. He’s nearly bent double, before the wrench through his shoulder revives him. Ow, Jesus! He scrambles to find his footing, to lighten the burden on his shoulder socket, though he’s still light-headed, his chest tight and shuddering. Are the army here? Have Robin and Eddie been taken? Oh God, oh God!

Something that feels like a mini lightning-storm consumes his brain, echoed by a deafening clap of thunder, and then…

Nothing.

…

Eddie POV

Eddie dips around the wavering beams of the slowly approaching headlights. He dashes into the bunkroom, where Robin is asleep.

In the gloom, he grabs her shoulder, shakes her. “Robin!” 

“Mind the kittens… Huh? Shit, sorry, dreaming. What the—”

Eddie flattens his hand over her mouth. “Someone’s coming,” he hisses.

“Shit-birds, what do we…” Robin sits up, slides to her feet. Her attention swings to Steve’s empty bunk. “Where is he?”

“Long story. Listen, you gotta run. Now. Hide.”

“Where? There’s only one way out.” Her arms flap everywhere. “Where’s Steve, Eddie?” 

“Gonna get him. Come on!”

They sidle out of the bunkroom, keeping tight to the cabin and the shadows. The revs from the vehicle are hard-by. “Hide in the trees,” says Eddie. “Go.”

“Not without Steve! Where is… Oh my God, oh my God.” 

Two headlight beams dazzle, as the vehicle enters the camp. A few fleeting heartbeats later, lightning forks across the sky, echoed by a deafening thunderclap. As Eddie and Robin charge deeper into the shadows, the heavens literally crack apart and a wall of rain slams down. Eddie sprints for the cabin where he left Steve, already soaked to the skin, no idea if Robin followed.

“Steve?” he whispers. “Steve! Shit! Shiiiiit!” Blundering in the dark, he discovers Steve’s completely out of it, dangling limply from one wrist. Eddie’s clumsily bracing his weight, when a flashlight sets him squinting, and a large figure blocks the doorway.

It’s all over.

Somebody roars, “What the hell is going on?” 

It sounds like Chief Hopper.

Eddie’s so stunned that he almost lets Steve drop. Fortunately, Hopper is already there—or, at least, some tall, lean, mean-looking dude that resembles him. Whoever he is, he gets his arms around Steve, while elbowing Eddie out of the way.

“Eddie? What? Why? What did you do to him? How could you? HOW COULD YOU?” Robin, holding the light, sounds ten times angrier than the thunder.

“It… uh, it wasn’t like that.” Eddie wrings his sopping hair. “I can explain?”

“Save it, Munson,” mutters the Hopper-look-alike, who’s already produced a vicious-looking blade and is hacking Steve free. Then he scoops one arm under Steve’s knees, and with a grunt, he picks him up.

“You got beds somewhere?” asks Hopper. Robin nods, before leading the way out into the easing rain.

Part 11

tags: @estrellami-1 @kal-ology (thank you, thank you, thank you!) If anybody else would like to be tagged on this fic or any of my writing, please let me know :) Reblogs, comments and likes also very much appreciated :) Thank you for reading so far :)

(also part of my steve whump fic series on AO3)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 11

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington whump #steve x eddie #steddie fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington x eddie munson #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson #steve & robin #platonic stobin #stobin #stobin fic #stobin friendship #stranger things fanfiction #steddie fanfiction

[katyawriteswhump]

the power of love part 8 (steddie, stobin, steve whump fic)

Steve has a habit of surviving near death experiences then getting sick for no reason. And Eddie and those fatal bat bites? After an impossible feat of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation from Steve, he’s mysteriously fixed. So, Eddie’s back to being banished, this time with Steve and Robin in tow. Eddie’s healing, but Steve isn’t… and life gets even more confusing, when Eddie develops feelings for Steve, which aren’t entirely unrequited.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

(also on AO3 here where it's still in need of love, if anybody is feeling kind *sobs* ;))

Chapter Eight

Eddie POV continued

“You kissed? And now you can’t wake him?” Robin perches beside Steve on the bunk then rounds on Eddie—genuinely baring her teeth. “I shouldn’t leave you alone with him. It’s like you’re cursing him or something.”

“Woah! Are you accusing me of satanist shit now?” Eddie stops pacing the floorboards, claws his hair.

“Steve? Steve! Oh God, please!” She gently pats him, sinks her face into a hand. “Sorry, Eddie. It’s just… totally unexplainable.” She looks up sharply. “That’s exactly what we should be looking for, right?”

“The unexplainable?” Robin nods. “I should be dead. Steve should be bright and breezy—”

“—and it’s not anything to do with the Upside Down.”

Eddie hums uneasily. Should he share the new theory he’s got brewing? “I dunno. It blows to be a cynic, but—"

“Come on, Eddie! There are so many other possible explanations. If the Upside Down is real, who knows what else is? You’re a maestro of the D and D underworld—work with me here.”

They bounce ideas off each other, including that Steve might’ve succumbed to bad beer. Neither of them buy that one.

“Maybe Steve has some sort of regenerative power,” she says, “like Doctor Who. And you’re leeching it out of him, or something.”

Eddie hoots: “It’s my fault again?”

“No! Look, I sometimes get kinda papa grizzly where Steve is concerned, which is odd, because otherwise, I have almost zero protective instinct. We can’t deny the pattern, though—last time you two got mouth to mouth, he performed miracles and then went downhill fast. This time, uh…”

“I slurped the life out of him again?” Eddie sinks down on the opposite bunk. He thinks back to the kiss, which had been so mind-blowingly awesome. Until it wasn’t. Time to test his number one sucks-balls-squared theory of the day.

He slowly peels his shirt—or, rather, Steve’s now extremely grubby t-shirt—off over his head.

“Ew! Save it for the boys, Munson.”

He runs his palm across his midriff, glances over his shoulder, then hurries closer to the window for better light. Holy shit. “I was still covered in scars yesterday. Even earlier today, there was too much pink among the ink. Now there’s diddly-squat.”

 “So, Steve is still healing you?”

Eddie scrunches the shirt and hurls it across the room. “Yeah, and at this rate, my payback’s gonna kill him! We’ve been so fixated on Steve—what if I’m somehow a font of crappy juju? The big bad wolf the whole world believes I am, after all.”

“No.” Robin strokes Steve’s arm. Eddie’s dying to be close to him, too. Shit, he doesn’t dare! “It’s the water. It gives him some kind of power, and he’s passing it on to you. I mean, it doesn’t explain everything, but…”

Eddie retrieves his shirt, grabs her lifeline and clings to it. “It’s as good an explanation as any.”

“Ooooh!” She turns super-excited. “Perhaps there are fairies in Lover’s Lake? Water nymphs? Or aliens landed there! I’m still mightily suspicious about those clouds and the choppers, because—”

“This is getting absurd, Robin.” She sneers at him, shrugs anyhow. “Look, if we buy the lake theory, what can we do about it? It’s not like we can drag him there. We left the car practically in the next county, and he’s too sick.”

“I could fetch water and bring it back here?”

“Given my recent form, I think it’s best for you to stay with him. Eddie the Banished will don his armour and head once more into the breach.”

“Shakespeare? You listened in English Lit?”

Eddie puffs out his chest, conjuring a bravado he so doesn’t feel. “Still gonna be my year, Buckley.”

His armour is chiefly the shelter of the forest, during several hours of tedious trek. He cycles the last part of his journey, pulling his bandana over his face. When he makes radio contact with Dustin, however, his journey feels more than worth it.

Eddie arranges a meet with the Wheelers at Skull Rock. At least, he believes he does. Dustin communicates in one of his more baffling codes. Eddie is blown away, therefore, when he spots his fave lil’ dude approaching their liaison spot. Dustin defiantly wears his Hellfire Club t-shirt, despite everything.

Dustin throws down his crutches. Eddie rushes forward and flings his arms around him.

“Eddie! You son-of-a-bitch! You scared me so much!”

“Yeeeah, I was pretty scared myself.” Eddie hugs him tight, squeezes his eyes tighter. Tears leak anyhow. “But I’m alive and…” He pulls back, drinks up the sight of Dustin, who sniffs and rubs his red face. “God, it’s good to see you.”

Somebody clears their throat. Eddie jumps a good two inches in the air.

“Hey.” Nancy Wheeler stands a few yards off, offering a sheepish wave, which Eddie returns.

It’s not really surprising she’s there. Someone had to give Dustin a ride, and help him limp through the woods. Sitting beneath the rock, the three of them discuss possible explanations for wtf is going on with Steve.

“Okay, let me get my head around this,” she says. “You think Steve derives some sort of regenerative power from Lover’s Lake? And he’s sick? Right now?” She frets her lip. “I should go to him.”

“Uuuuuh, no need. We’re coping all right.” Eddie almost laughs out loud at how badly he doesn’t want her anywhere near Steve. He’d never in his wildest dreams have believed he would go toe-to-toe as a love rival with Nancy Wheeler.

She shakes her head. “There’s gotta be a connection with the Upside Down. This is bad. Really bad.”

“Not necessarily,” says Dustin. “I like Eddie’s hypothesis. There’s no logical reason why all the supernatural shit in this town, let alone this world, is evil.”

“It was Robin’s hypothesis,” admits Eddie.

“Whatever,” says Dustin. “If a bad alternate dimension can bleed into ours, maybe a good dimension can too.”

“I suppose,” said Nancy. Eddie nearly agrees with her, but can’t quite be that gracious. “Either way, if that lake fixes Steve somehow, we need to act quick.”

Nancy heads off to collect lake water. Once she’s gone, Eddie feels able to share his other Steve-related issue: “Didn’t want to divulge this in front of Wheeler, but… Uh, Steve and I got mouth-to-mouth again.”

“You had to perform CPR on him? I had no idea you knew—”

“There’s other reasons that lips meet.” Eddie puckers his lips and crosses his eyes, totally silly. 

Dustin stares at him, his mouth hanging open. “Oh!”

“Yeah. Theeeeen… he basically passed out.”

“Whut?”

“Look, don’t ask me to explain it! I mean, I like him. I really like him. Equally implausible, I think he likes me, but…” Aargh! His feelings for Steve are more tortuous than pleasurable right now. What’s more, the distance between them makes armouring his heart a teeny-weeny bit easier. 

“But?” Dustin bobs up and down on his butt.

“If I’m making him sicker, I should make myself scarce. I still wonder if I’m the bad apple here. Flayed… or whatever. It would neatly continue the sordid tale that is my life. Plus, if Hopper’s back, I bet he can get Steve off the hook for aiding and abetting, or whatever. Steve can go home, get the help he needs.”

“Hopper’s got his own problems, dude.” Dustin scratches his head beneath his baseball cap, kinda nervy. “There’s this army colonel in town, O’Sullivan, who’s pretty much Vecna levels of evil. He knows about Brenner and Hawkins Lab, and… Long story, cut short. He’s out to kill Eleven.”

“You gotta be shitting me!”

“That was my line when I found out. Hopper and El are hiding out, waiting for a safe opportunity to get outta Dodge. The band of the banished gets bigger every day.”

“Well, this exile should return to being a solo act. Steve and I absolutely would not work in the real world.”

“Huh?” Dustin wrinkles his nose. “You’re different—that’s what makes it fun. Even Suzie and I don’t like all the same music, for example. She’s got a real downer on Debbie Gibson.”

“Then maybe I should date Suzie,” mumbles Eddie, avoiding Dustin’s scrutiny. “In reality, Steve and I are from different planets. I’ve seen his house—his folks are loaded.”

“You can’t hold Steve’s parents against him. They’re literally never there for him. His Dad travels tons, and they stopped taking him with him when he was, like, eleven, because…” Dustin’s jaw drops again.

“Because what?” prompts Eddie. 

“Steve stopped travelling with his parents because he started getting sick every time.”

“So, he got travel sick. So do tons of kids. So what?”

“I honestly don’t know! But it supports your theories concerning his proximity to the lake. Sort of.” Dustin whacks his cap against the rock. “Jesus-mother-effing-son-of-a-bitch! I am literally dying to return to a world where I can trust the laws of science.”

Steve POV

1979

Getting himself up in the morning, getting himself to the school bus-stop alone—that only sucked.

It was the emptiness of the night that freaked him out.

Steve stayed up too late, of course he did. He was nearly twelve years old, with nobody to tell him what to do. He ate sweets and watched grown-up television, which got boring pretty fast. When he finally plucked up the courage to go to bed, he’d huddle under the covers, muffling his ears. It never drowned out that horrible, screaming quiet.

Who knew silence could be so loud?

He missed his mom, and it hurt, too. Knowing she chose to leave him behind. 

He’d hated travelling, because in the last year, he’d always got ill. Like, not just travel sick, but fevers and chills and headaches and stomach cramps, always “ruining” his father’s trips. 

Inevitably, his dad decreed that he must stay behind, and the first couple of times, his mom stayed home with him. Then she’d told him his father needed her more. What did that even mean? Steve really, really needed her, simply to be there. Somewhere in the house.

She wasn’t. 

The hours would stretch on, while he was too scared to close his eyes, until…

The monsters barged out of the closet, rioting through his nightmares. Then THEY arrived, with their smooth, smiling face and whirlpool eyes. That wordlessly singing voice, trickling through the waters, reassuring him everything would be all right…

In the morning, shuffling to the bus-stop, he remembered them. Clearer than the monsters, even. Oh man, he could be so childish and unhip sometimes.

“Steve? Steve! Please wake up! You’ve been asleep for hours.”

A groan escapes him, and then: “Momma?” Somehow, he knows it’s not her. “Dad?”

He opens his eyes. 

Oh shit. 

No, that’s not where his life is now. He’s sure as hell not eleven-years-old! Robin looks faintly amused, and also like she wants to thump him: “Gonna give you a pass on that this once, Steve, then go bleach my brain.”

Part 9

...

tags: @estrellami-1 @kal-ology (thank you, thank you, thank you!) If anybody else would like to be tagged on this fic or any of my writing, please let me know :) Reblogs, comments and likes also very much appreciated :) Thank you for reading so far :)

(also part of my steve whump fic series on AO3)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 10 Part 11

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington whump #steve x eddie #steddie fanfic #steve harrington x eddie munson #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson lives #eddie x steve #eddie munson #platonic stobin #stobin #stobin fic #stobin friendship

[katyawriteswhump]

the power of love part 7 (steddie, stobin, steve whump fic)

Steve has a habit of surviving near death experiences then getting sick for no reason. And Eddie and those fatal bat bites? After an impossible feat of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation from Steve, he’s mysteriously fixed. So, Eddie’s back to being banished, this time with Steve and Robin in tow. Eddie’s healing, but Steve isn’t… and life gets even more confusing, when Eddie develops feelings for Steve, which aren’t entirely unrequited.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

(also on AO3 here)

Chapter Seven

Eddie POV

Steve insists on being pathfinder lead for the next hour. 

Eddie’s gotta admit—following Steve, as he thrashes his way through the undergrowth, is the best entertainment that banishment has provided yet. Steve’s tight-fitting pants don't do any harm. Goddammit, the perspiration patches on Steve’s shirt make Eddie sweat even harder than Steve is.

“You need the fedora hat,” calls Robin, “and you’ve totally nailed the junior Indiana Jones look.”

Steve smirks over his shoulder. “I was channelling that guy out of Romancing the Stone.” 

“Michael Douglas? No way as hot.” Eddie flashes his best flirtatious grin with ever greater confidence. This afternoon, Steve has begun returning them. “Stick to Indy, man.”

By the time they reach the logging camp, however, they’re all beyond exhausted.

Eddie’s feet are raw with blisters, and Robin’s been complaining of the same for the past hour. She limps through the door of the first cabin they come to, which fortunately turns out to be a bunkhouse. She throws down her pack then throws herself onto the bottom of one of two sets of bunks. Steve collapses onto the other lower bunk and appears to fall instantly asleep.

Eddie considers crawling up onto one of the top bunks and seeing if sleep takes pity on him.

He doubts it would. The choppers were a stark reminder of the nightmare reality snapping at his heels, and he’s wired as hell. He begins to unpack their supplies. Robin, having taken a moment, sits back up.

“We should check this place out,” she whispers. “There must be a clean water supply somewhere, maybe a generator. Definitely canned food and that kinda stuff, for when the loggers come back in the autumn.” 

“I guess it’ll make a change from cardboard-flavoured cereal.”

“God, I know, right! I’d literally murder for some Count Chocular right now.”

They split up to search the various cabins. Eddie hits the jackpot first, in the guise of a crate of bottled beer. 

“Seriously?” says Robin, when she meets him outside the bunkhouse. Eddie sits on the beer crate he’s dragged out, taking a well-earned rest. “You’re gonna get buzzed?”

“You got it in one, sister.”

He doesn’t feel the need to justify this—I saw Chrissy butchered in front of my eyes. I’ve spent a week on the run from the cops. I BASICALLY DIED IN A WHIRLWIND OF EVIL KILLER DEMOBATS. And now I’m on the run again, with Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington, and I’ve fallen stupid hard for him. Oh, and there’s a small but real possibility he’s been flayed. Or something else freaky along those lines.

Robin hasn’t quit scowling at him. His smile is the first overtly false one he’s bothered with for a while:

“Forgive me, Robin. I’ve reached the point where, to quote my sweet old Granny—there ain’t nothin’ fuckin’ like it for me nerves. ’Course, she favoured hard liquor.” He offers one of two bottles he’s gotten out to Robin. “Want one?”

“I’ll stick to the cardboard cereal.” Her scowl lessens, though she remains deadly serious. “Look, promise me you won’t give too much to Steve.”

“Why?”

“What kinda pea-brain question is that? Despite the super-commando act, he’s still struggling, it’s totally obvious. Getting trashed is not gonna help.”

“Yeah, but… he’s improving, right?” Her slight wince betrays that, once again, they’re thinking the same thing. Perhaps Steve’s getting stronger, because he’s getting closer again to Lover’s Lake, Hawkins, Vecna, the Hive-Mind, and yet… “You know our little worst-case scenario, Rob? I’m still not buying it.”

The wind rustles the nearby trees. In sync, Robin’s hunched shoulders soften a little. “Me neither. Hand on heart, if Steve had a link to that evil shit, any at all, I’d sense it by now. Although… Was it just me who thought it was weird when the choppers came over, and then it suddenly clouded up?”

“Yeeeeaah, that really was just you. I was too busy eating dirt and shitting myself.” Now he thinks about it, mind, it was darn convenient.

She shrugs. “I guess I’m super-paranoid that way. I literally spent my Middle School years spotting aliens everywhere.”

“You’re kidding?”

“Then I realised they weren’t aliens. It was the Fae all along.”

“You sure it wasn’t dragons?”

“Now you’re being ridiculous.” Her laugh sounds as manic as his latest crazy smile. On the other hand:

“Maybe Steve really is getting better naturally,” he ventures, “and the set-backs are because he’s been overdoing it. I mean, yeah, we keep an eye out for anything cuckoo, watch for connections, make sure he takes rests, but… Time heals, huh?”

“Not always.” She purses her lips, veering straight back into scary mode. “Steve doesn’t like people to know, but since his second major concussion, he’s not supposed to drink. Of course, he does sometimes, but—”

“Message received. I’ll just have the one—for medicinal purposes, ’kay?” 

“Please yourself. Then wake Steve long enough to put our own bedding on those disgusting bunks. I don’t wanna be bitten to death by bed bugs.”

Robin stomps off toward the camp generator. Eddie is executing the important business of prying the top off his beer, when Steve appears, leaning in the cabin doorway. “Why did you both let me… Hey, is that beer?”

The top pops off with a treacherous fizz. “Uh, no?”

“You’re a useless liar.” Steve closes in. His messy, sleep-mussed hair renders him totally edible. 

“You got me.” Eddie darts his tongue nervously across his lips. “This indeed is the amber nectar of the Gods. You want some?” 

There’s a skewed logic behind Eddie’s offer. If he told Steve he couldn’t drink, like he was his mom or something, Steve would probably get mad. He opts to play a good cop, bad cop routine with Robin, who… 

Eddie glances toward the generator.

She’s not there. If bad cop isn’t gonna show, then he needs a Plan B.

“I guess I’ll have one.” Steve stretches to take the bottle. 

“Just gonna test it. Been here a while.” 

Eddie takes a glug, splutters it out across dusty ground. “Oh man, it’s worse than cat-piss.” He’s only slightly exaggerating. “There’s a reason those lumberjacks left this garbage behind.”

Steve yawns into the back of his hand. “Gonna be honest. I’m not supposed to drink anyhow. Long story.” Ooookay. That went easier than predicted. “Got any water left?”

“Yeah. By my pack.” Eddie hurries into the bunkhouse, and Steve follows. It’s the last bottle, so he hopes Robin’s busy locating fresh supplies. Though that proves the least of his worries.

Half a minute later, he’s sitting on the edge of a bunk, thigh-to-thigh with Steve. They pass the bottle of water and a bottle of beer between them.

And being this close to Steve, now Steve seems so much better? Exchanging chitchat about how long they can hideout here, and if any of them have the skills to hunt a deer or something?

It sends tingles up and down Eddie’s spine.

The way Steve looks at him underlines exactly why Steve was angry last night, when Eddie “assumed” he was straight. Eddie suddenly can’t look Steve in the eye. Trouble is, he then can’t stop staring at Steve’s mouth—those shapely, slightly chapped lips, moist and glistening with water and bad beer.

Then Steve blindsides him with: “Do you honestly think you died, Eddie? Before I did the CPR?”

“I dunno, Harrington.” Eddie squirms on his butt, all kinds of defences flying up. “It was like a dream. Apart from that, it wasn't a dream. It was a place, and Dustin was there, and Robin was there, and you were there, too.”

“Wow. Seriously?”

Eddie cackles out a mocking laugh. “I’m misquoting ‘The Wizard of Oz,’ dude.”

“Oh.” Eddie glances sidelong. Steve appears… oddly crestfallen. “It’s just… You know, I said when I get hurt, I feel like I come back different each time. I mean, I don't know if it's true or not, but... I never knew you before... and I know you now and... and…” Steve fluffs his hair. “Jesus, I’m blabbering.”

“Nah,” says Eddie. “You sound like you’re getting somewhere.” 

Compared to the meltdown my brain is having.

“Okay, well, here it is. I like you, Eddie. I really like you.” 

Eddie half wants to flee for the hills. He fixes on a beetle scuttling across the dirty floorboards. “Dude, you sure you’re not in love with Wheeler?”

“I… I… No!”  Steve doesn’t sound angry, only bewildered. “Yeah, I believed that once, and maybe I was. I guess she fitted in so many dreams I’ve had of my future, and I owe her a lot. But now I’m with you, and…” Their eyes finally meet. Steve’s earnest warmth sends a brutal shockwave through Eddie. “I know this seems fickle, but…” His gentle laugh is too much. “Who knows? Perhaps it’s because Nance has never been dead. Or, near dead. You know, we’ve gotten that in common, right?”

“Riiiiight,” Eddie says, stupidly, then, “Screw it, I like you too, Stevie. I really like you.” 

They fling their arms around each other, and tumble into the kiss.

For Eddie, the sensations are like no make-out session before, such is the hunger that zings between them. Eddie’s so blown away, that the brush of Steve’s lips seems to kindle an actual crackling, electric friction..  Damn, the boy can kiss! 

Eddie’s gotten a semi already, fingers threading up through Steve’s hair, toying at the nape of his neck. Steve does amazing twisty things with his tongue. Gnng! You wanna kill me again, Baby? Even the scrape of Steve’s shallow stubble totally unhinges him.

They work the kiss with their whole bodies, striving to get beyond close, as if they could slide beneath each other’s skin. Eddie can’t help wondering—can they get each other off, before Robin gets back?

Then something changes.

He senses Steve gasp, then moan into Eddie's mouth with something other than dumb teen passion. His arms, clinging around Eddie, falter and slip away.

“Stevie?”

Too late. Steve crumples against Eddie, totally senseless. 

“Steve?” squeaks Eddie, struggling to stop Steve slipping to the floorboards. “Robin! ROBIN!”

Part 8

tags: @estrellami-1 @kal-ology (thank you, thank you, thank you!) If anybody else would like to be tagged on this fic or any of my writing, please let me know :) Reblogs, comments and likes also very much appreciated :) Thank you for reading so far :)

(also part of my steve whump fic series on AO3)

#steddie #steve harrington whump #steddie fic #steve x eddie #steddie fanfic #steve harrington x eddie munson #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington #stobin #platonic stobin #stranger things fic #stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson lives #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington hurt/comfort #steve harrington hc

[katyawriteswhump]

The power of love, part 5 (steddie, stobin, steve whump fic)

Steve has a habit of surviving near death experiences then getting sick for no reason. And Eddie and those fatal bat bites? After an impossible feat of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation from Steve, he’s mysteriously fixed. So, Eddie’s back to being banished, this time with Steve and Robin in tow. Eddie’s healing, but Steve isn’t… and life gets even more confusing, when Eddie develops feelings for Steve, which aren’t entirely unrequited.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

Eddie POV

Robin spreads out a map they’d taken from the Harringtons across the blanket on Steve’s bed. She points to their current location. 

“So, this is us. We’re away from the road but still waaay too screaming-in-your-face easy to find.” She slides her finger a few inches across the map. “This old loggers’ camp is deep in the forest and could be the perfect place to hide. However, it’s over seven miles and we might have to hike, if the track is broken up. Steve? What do you say?”

“What am I supposed to say, Robin?” Steve sits up against the pillows, arms folded. “Let’s get going.”

“It’s a loooong way for you, if we can’t drive, man,” says Eddie.

“I’m good. Jesus! Hiking is in her top ten least favourite pass times. Not mine.” Steve throws off the covers, pushes himself up. He repels Eddie’s attempt to help with a jab of his elbow then leans heavily on the wall. “When do we start?”

“Hold your horses, cowboy.” Eddie cranes over the map. “My beloved Pa had a few hideouts round this way—”

“Yeah, they must’ve been totally undiscoverable,” snarks Steve, “what with Al Munson being FOREVER IN JAIL.”

“If you’re feeling so much better, Dingus, THEN STOP BEING A BITCH.” That was Robin, now matching Steve’s glare. “Go on, Eddie. What’s your plan?”

They strike out for the logging camp that afternoon, planning to break their journey in a cave, which Eddie’s Pops had used a couple of times. They drive the first part of the trail, then set off on foot when the track gets too uneven for the Lincoln’s tyres. Most of the trail is uphill through forest. Steve, however, refuses any help, and insists on taking his share of supplies.

He says very little, walking close to Robin. She wavers between cajoling him into taking breaks, and an encouraging monologue. Eddie goes ahead, using a compass and some basic tracking skills Wayne taught him, while squinting at the hazy sun. And, obviously, he seeks the easiest path for Steve.

“You know I suck at directions, right?” he whispers to Robin, while Steve takes a ‘moment,’ sitting down. “Though I’m gonna blame Vecna—and the matter that Hawkins is now one big, fiery Upside Down doormat—for blowing the compass off.”

She bats a bug from her nose. “Ugh! If it’s any consolation, trail finding was never exactly my number one skill, either.”

“How about Captain America over there?”

“He literally never knows his left from his right.” Eddie’s rarely seen anything more loving than the look she casts Steve’s way. “I think it’s gotten harder for him. He’s had... uh, quite a few blows to the head in recent years. Never seen him like this before. I’m worried, Eddie.”

“Me too.” Eddie swipes hair from his brow, finding it slick with sweat. “Talking of Vecna-skewed compasses and Vecna in general. Should we also worry about his crazy-ass cravings for Lover’s Lake?”

“At this juncture, I’m hoping it’s all some kind of freaky coincidence.” She actually closes her eyes, as if offering up a silent prayer. “I mean, even when he’s outta his mind, Steve really, really loves swimming. On the other hand, if going near the lake actually made Steve better, and that’s why he healed so quick after his initial bat attack, then… then…  Oh shit, I don’t even want to say it.”

Their gazes lock, and Eddie knows they’re brain sharing: There’s a gate to the Upside Down in Lover’s Lake. If Steve’s somehow linked to it some evil-magic-juju fashion, then… 

“You don’t seriously think he’s flayed?” Eddie little more than mouths the words.

Robin slices up a forbidding hand, so fast Eddie fliches. “No. Not that. He can’t be. Vecna isn’t in his head—he’d tell us, right? I mean, there could be a more physical link to the Upside Down and the hive mind, like with Will at various stages, but… No, no, no. We’re catastrophising, huh?”

Eddie nods keenly, which does little to dispel his unease. On the other hand, Robin is right. Nothing about Steve’s behaviour is shouting “flayed” or whatever. Including the teeny, tiny matter of Steve bringing Eddie back from extinction, though that remains totally unexplained. Yeah, it could be simply because death happens differently in the Upside Down.

Steve hauls himself up, hugging a tree. “What we waiting for? Bears to come bite our sorry butts?”

“There are bears out here?” Robin squeaks.

“He’s kidding,” mutters Eddie. At least, Eddie hopes he is. Steve still looks dead grumpy and serious.

They make the caves by sunset. They’ve got flashlights, and Eddie and Robin could’ve pressed on through the night, but Steve blatantly can’t. As soon as they arrive, he slumps down against the rockface, curls his legs up. He presses his face to his knees and rocks himself gently.

“You sure you’re all right?” asks Eddie.

“Next person who asks me that gets punched.”

Ooookay. No change in Steve’s mood then. Robin reassures herself there are no bear scratches in the cave then heads out to scout the route for the next morning. Eddie starts unpacking the bedding and cereal.

The air in the cave is cool and thick with damp. Eddie kinda likes it anyhow. Amid the must and mould, he inhales the faintest hint of charcoal. He pictures his Pa shacked up here, also on the run. He can’t help chuckle: I tried soooo hard not to follow in your footsteps. 

Steve, meanwhile, is huddling ever more tightly in on himself.

Eddie’s tempted to light a fire, as he imagines it gets cold in caves overnight, plus it’s still only April. However, he fears the smoke, if not the flames, could billow out of the narrow entrance and be spotted from miles around. Maybe that’s where you went wrong, Daddy dearest.

“You want a blanket?” ventures Eddie, sitting down next to Steve. Not quite touching, though. “Anything to eat? C’mon, dude. We all gotta keep our strength up.”

He taps the cereal packet against Steve’s arm, startling him into looking up. The torchlight heightens the shadows beneath Steve’s cheekbones, making him look horribly pale and gaunt. Kinda ghost-like, though Eddie stifles a gasp of shock for a different reason.

Steve Harrington is crying. Though trying his darndest not to—gritting his teeth, swiping the tell-tale moisture from his cheekbones. “God! I’m beyond pathetic. No wonder everyone thinks I’m a total dud.”

Cereal cast aside, Eddie squeezes Steve’s knee then retreats like the coward he is. “What are you on about? You’re, like, the most popular guy in town.”

Steve’s scowl is angry, incredulous and broken in equal measures. “Was, man. It was all a bunch of bull, and… totally irrelevant. I mean, haven’t you seen enough? We need to move, to keep moving, to evade capture, to get ready to fight Vecna again. I can barely walk.”

“Oookay, let’s rewind and be kind, Stevie.” He gets away with that sneaky pet-name again. “You’re feeling down because you’re… I dunno, sick, hurt, tired. Where do I begin? Fact is, you’re not a superhero man, you bleed and bruise like the rest of us lesser mortals… but you are a freakin’ hero.”

Steve’s brittle laugh breaks on a sob, against which he clamps his jaw even tighter. Eddie further musters his courage and slings an arm around Steve, who tenses. Then exhaustion wins. Steve sinks sideways against Eddie and rests his head on Eddie’s shoulder.

Soon, Steve’s shuddering breaths even out. The weirdest thing is that, despite how cranky Steve’s been all afternoon, this closeness feels disarmingly natural. That said, in the past forty-eight hours, they’ve had little choice but to become… intimate. Even Eddie's fizzing nerves soon settle.

“One thing’s for sure,” says Eddie, at length. “I’m more jealous than ever. I mean, Henderson’s respect for you must’ve skyrocketed and it was excruciatingly stratospheric already. I’m just the goon you brought back from the dead.”

Steve sniffles, lifts his head from Eddie’s shoulder. “I didn’t do anything really, man. Basic CPR. I executed a move.”

“Yeeeah.” A silly grin tugs the edges of Eddie’s mouth. “With your lips, dude.” 

Steve smirks, and… Woah! Eddie spots something he’d wondered if he’d imagined several times. Including earlier, when Steve collapsed against him on the way back from the outhouse. 

That merest hint of… attraction? Of flirty fun? 

Just as Eddie decides he’s imagining it—again—that spark reaches Steve’s too-pretty, too-sad eyes, and he says: 

“That was kinda fresh of me.”

Eddie’s tongue flaps away before he can stop it: “Tell you one other thing for sure—if you'd asked permission to get all smoochey, for whatever reason, I'd have granted you a full-access backstage pass.” Then Eddie’s brain kicks in. “Aaaaaand, that was dumb. What with you being the straightest guy in the history of ever.” 

Steve’s sparkle vanishes, and he turns his face to the darkness. “Go to Hell! Why does everyone always make such massive assumptions about me?”

“You’re not straight? I mean, I assumed… You’re you. You’ve got girlie mag centerfolds in your room!”

“You’re judging me on that?” Steve ruffles his hair and groans, sounding more wearily upset than agitated. “Look, man, I’ve not changed my room since sophomore year. In case you’re missing any of the plot, I’ve had other crap going on.” 

“Yeah, but you and Wheeler! The way you look at her, and the way she looks at—”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Steve sinks his forehead to his knees again. Nevertheless, Eddie’s arm is still around him, and he’s not shrugged it off.  What’s more, it seems he does want to talk, even if it’s rambling and kinda hard to follow: 

“I've been through stuff like this before, Eddie. Getting hurt and shit, hit so hard I black out and the doctors give me all these scary warnings. It’s weird, whenever I wake after being hurt, it feels as if loads of time has passed, even if it’s only been a few minutes. I always feel… shitty, of course, but also… a bit different. It’s confusing… Probably bullshit. It’s all bullshit.”

Different. 

Eddie’s heart gives a little squeeze, which he kinda despairs of. Not before he’s given Steve a small squeeze, too. “What kind of different?”

“I dunno. Like.... this time around, I'm not so into Nance. Or maybe feeling so crappy this past day has given even my thick head perspective, and I can see it’s hopeless. I mean, I figured I was in love with Robin once, when I “came back” from being knocked out, and, of course, I do love her but... not like that. She gets me… better than I do, I guess. Talk to her if you want anything about me to make sense.” He yawns. “I’m soooo tired, man.”

Soon, Steve’s sunk so deep against Eddie, his head is in Eddie’s lap. Eddie drags a blanket up over Steve, then finds himself tentatively stroking Steve’s hair. He’s unsure if Steve is asleep or not. Either way, Steve sighs, kinda melts beneath his touch. Wherever he’s drifted off to, it seems peaceful.

Eddie tries and fails not to think on how trippy this is: I got Steve ‘King of Hawkins High’ Harrington asleep in my lap, and he just snapped at me for suggesting he was straight. 

He also tries and fails not to worry about the whole Lover’s-Lake-giving-Steve-weird-juju issue. Steve just straight-up told him he’s been through near-death experiences before and come back different. Yeah, Eddie’s cheerleading for the GOOD variety of different. However, in Hawkins, and in life in general:

Odds are stacked in the favour of BAD different, Munson. As in FLAYED different.

No. He’s not going down that path. Robin would notice anything weird about Steve, and Steve’s not acting strange. He’s just… strangely sick, though it’s not that odd, really, after all he’s been through.

Yeah, right. And My Little Pony seahorses are gonna surf in on a tsunami of petals and save the day. 

Man, it sucks being such a cynic.

He doesn’t notice Robin slip back in until she’s nearly upon them. “You two got cosy, then,” she whispers.

“I got a creeping suspicion he’s gonna break my neck in the morning for this.”

She wiggles her brows. “Oh, I dunno. His bark is totally worse than his bite.”

“I can hear you, asshats,” mumbles Steve. Robin’s brows shoot sky high. “I don’t want to be sleeping on his bony knees, but some moron forgot to bring pillows.”

Eddie strokes Steve’s hair into that warm groove behind his ear, and finally discovers he’s too tired to worry about anything much at all.

Part Six

...

(also on AO3 here and as part of my steve whump fic series)

tags: @estrellami-1 (thank you, thank you, thank you!) If anybody else would like to be tagged on this fic or any of my writing, please let me know :) Reblogs, comments and likes also very much appreciated :) Thank you for reading so far.

#steddie #steve harrington whump #steddie fic #steve x eddie #steddie fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington x eddie munson #platonic stobin #stobin #stranger things fanfic #steve and robin #steve harrington hc #steve harrington hurt/comfort

[katyawriteswhump]

the power of love, part 12 (steddie, steve whump, stobin fic)

Alternate ending S4: Steve has a habit of surviving near death experiences then getting sick for no reason. And Eddie and those fatal bat bites? After an impossible feat of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation from Steve, he’s mysteriously fixed. So, Eddie’s back to being banished, this time with Steve and Robin in tow. Eddie’s healing, but Steve isn’t… and life gets even more confusing, when Eddie develops feelings for Steve, which aren’t entirely unrequited.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 13

(also on AO3 here and as part of my steve whump fic series)

Eddie POV

To Eddie, there’s something way too police-like about the way Hopper escorts Steve to the Humvee. He even raises a hand to check Steve doesn’t knock his head, while climbing in the rear seat. Eleven gets in the far side of Steve, and Robin piles in on the near side. 

Robin shoots Eddie such a mean look and slams the armoured door. Left standing in the mud, Eddie gets it—subtle as a monster punch in his gut. Stay away from Steve.

“Let’s move.” Hopper motions urgently, and Eddie trudges over and gets in.

“You sure you want me riding shotgun? What with me being… Oh, I dunno, verified spawn of Satan?” 

Hopper drops his voice to a barely audible rumble: “Whatever game you two were playing last night, I don’t wanna know.” He doesn’t sound chummy. Not actively hostile either. “I promised your uncle I’d look out for you, if I could.”

Eddie inhales sharply: “You’ve seen him? He’s okay?”

“He salvaged your six-string after the quake. He wanted me to tell you.”

Eddie snorted; cannot deny it’d played on his mind. God, Wayne knows him too damn well.

Hopper fiddles with the switches on the spartan dashboard. “Not gonna say he’s okay, because nobody in Hawkins is. Our best hope is that the military pull out when they can’t find Eleven. We still have allies, acquaintances of Owens, though their numbers are thinning fast.”

“That who we’re running to?”

Hopper has some kind of plan, which he explains as he grinds into gear. They’re heading for a remote road, where these remaining ‘allies’ have arranged further transport. “Luckily,” says Hopper, “you guys were pretty much on route.”

“We can’t stay away long,” says Eleven. “I have to go back. I can beat One, with help from friends, and…”

Eddie peeps over his shoulder, sees her staring hopefully at Steve. Who is staring glassily ahead.

“Steve?” prompts Robin. “Anything you feel like sharing.”

“Will you gimme a break? Look, I got an idea about what’s behind all this. I don’t know how much sense it’s gonna make, so…”

Nothing could’ve prepared Eddie for what Steve discloses next. “I know how nuts this must sound,” Steve says. Eddie, like the others, is temporarily stunned speechless. “That I should be… That I should’ve drowned in that lake, when I was a kid.”

“The only thing nuts,” says Robin, who’s literally cuddling him from the side, “is that you didn’t tell us this sooner.”

Steve squirms. “Honestly? It only came together in my head in the past day or so. It was like a really annoying jigsaw puzzle, and jigsaws are basically my least favorite thing ever.”

“We need to figure this out,” says Hopper. “There was no gate open to the Upside Down in 1978. Doesn’t mean Steve’s powers, if that’s what you got, aren’t linked to the Upside Down, or the experiments at Hawkins Lab. If they are, doesn’t mean they’re all bad news. Look at El.”

“I guess.” The Humvee rocks and rolls over a particularly cavernous pothole, and Steve flinches hard. “In my dreams and shit, I see this trippy… I don’t know how to describe them. They’re like a ghost or something; also, not quite a ghost. Whatever, I got this hunch they’re behind it.”

“Could be some kind of water spirit,” says Robin. “Or even a goddess. Oooh, so the Romans worshipped this water goddess, Minerva, and the ancient Celts had Sulis—"

“Be serious,” says Steve.

“I am serious. In Native American religions, water can represent a link between life and death. I wish I knew more.”

“Not sure I wanna know any of this.” Steve peeps down at El, who’s not quit staring at him. “If this is your crazy-pants frenemy after all, now would be a really good time to tell me.”

She shakes her head. “No. If I sense anything, it’s good… soft… like Mama should’ve been.”

“Oh,” says Steve. “Can you, like, see them too?”

“No.”

“Son-of-a-bitch!” bellows Hopper. The Humvee’s wheels churn uselessly in the sludgy ground. “Everyone out, apart from you.” He points at Steve. “You okay to take the wheel?”

Steve revs for about ten seconds. Eleven uses her powers to unstick the armoured vehicle, and nobody needs to shove. Trouble is, they get stuck again about ten minutes later. And again, five minutes after that. Soon after they next get going, there’s a loud metallic clunk. The Humvee chokes, splutters, and dies completely.

They all tumble out yet again, apart from Steve, who stays put, and nobody argues. Hopper props up the hood. “Munson, you any good with cars?” 

“Uh, hello?” says Robin. “My moms jumpstarts her Chevette every single day.”

That distracts Steve’s guard-dog. Eddie suffers a moment of agonising indecision then pops his head in the rear seat.

“How you doing?” Eddie knows it’s a stupid question. 

Steve shoots him a withering look, fluffs his messy hair. Eddie slides in beside then totally freezes up. He feels horrible about Steve’s arm in the sling, and as for the rest of it… 

HE DIED! On the other hand, I died too.

Yeah, how exactly does Eddie Munson fit into this beyond-freaky legend? He hardly gives a shit— he’s not the one seeing ‘ghosts’ and, worse, starting to resemble a ghost.

“Eddie,” whispers Steve. “I might need to get away.”

“Get away?” mouths Eddie. “What do you mean? From Hopper?”

Steve’s silence is answer enough.

“Granted, the dude’s packing heat,” says Eddie. And driving a freakin’ tank. "He’s not holding you hostage.”

“I know that. God, I’m so confused.” Steve’s stopped being grouchy or fighty. Which is pretty un-Steve, and scary in itself. He curls a hand over his eyes. “I feel like I’m being… I dunno, pulled in the wrong direction.”

A power chord of fear twangs across Eddie’s every fibre. “You want us to go back to Hawkins?” 

“Us?” Steve emerges from behind his fingers. “No. Hop’s right. You’d be arrested and I’d be… Ugh, I’m so goddamn sick of this. I want this all to be over, so we can… you know, fool around together.”

He reaches out, hooks a strand of Eddie’s now-totally-mad hair behind his ear, and sorta smiles. For a single damn fine moment, that smile sparks in his eyes; Eddie loses himself there, and their world is perfect.

Then Steve’s fingers drift away. Eddie wants to catch them, kiss them, promise he’ll do anything Steve needs. He’ll take down the whole damn US army, slay Vecna in a blaze of glory, even if he dies AGAIN trying, and yet… 

… Holy shit, he’s terrified of Steve! Scared that, if he touches him, he’s gonna crumble into dust, or…

“Earth to Eddie?” Steve waves in front of Eddie’s nose. “Have I added invisibility to my list of useless powers?”

“No. It’s just… I want this over too, so we can do, uh, yeeeaah, stuff.” Wow. Call yourself a lyricist, Munson? He’s rescued by a roar from the Hummer’s engine. That sleepwalker’s glaze returns to Steve’s eyes, and it feels way too much like another door swinging closed in Eddie’s face.

Although the dinged motor is fixed, the mud continues to be literally a pain in the butt. Nobody enjoys the bruisingly rough ride on the rock-hard, upholstery-free seats. 

“At this rate, we’re gonna have to ditch this piece of garbage and walk,” says Hopper.

“Jesus Christ, just ditch me already,” mutters Steve, who’s turned a disturbing shade of gray-green. Hopper doesn’t argue, which makes Eddie think he isn’t taking all that Steve says seriously. Which makes Eddie feel kinda sick, too.

What should they do? He wishes he could talk to Steve alone again, this time be less of a tongue-tied dipshit. That said, how can Steve go back to Hawkins? Right now, he can’t hardly walk.

They’re halfway across a patch of open land when they get stuck yet again. Eleven’s nearly as washed out as Steve, her nose bleeding. Hopper suggests they get the Humvee moving the traditional way.

“Shame about all that rain,” says Robin, as she, Hopper and Eddie pile out to push.

“Is that a dig?” snaps Steve, from the driver’s seat.

“Wasn’t supposed to be. Sorry. Sorry.”

They’ve barely put their backs into it, when Hopper squints into the air and curses louder than ever. A distant juddering noise reaches Eddie’s hearing.

“Oh my God,” cries Robin. “Is that—”

“Sikorsky search-and-rescue Hawks,” shouts Hopper. Yup, Eddie counts a battle-wave of ten or more. “Into the trees. Go, go, go!”

“What about our tank?” Eddie jumps on instinct to help Steve, who’s clambering out, seeming kinda dazed. Robin blocks Eddie’s path. It’s all a moot point, because Hopper’s already got to Steve.

“If they see it,” says Hopper, hustling Steve ahead of him, “chances are they’ll take a potshot.”

“I can crash them,” gasps Eleven. “Done it before.”

“Not a great idea, kiddo,” says Hopper. “They’ll know for sure it’s us, and throw everything they got into this part of the country. We’ll never make our meet.”

Eddie is scratched from head to foot by outdoor crap, before Hopper says, wheezing hard, “This’ll do.” They all get down in a bunker-like dip. Steve kneels beside Eddie, Hopper behind them. Robin shuffles around to crouch beside Steve.

“Do you hear that?” murmurs Steve to Eddie.

“Uh, yeah,” replies Eddie. “Evil empire TIE fighters, straight outta the Death Star.”

“Not them. A river or something. Loud. Like a waterfall.”

“Could be a giant bear taking a slash?” says Eddie, because life is currently so unfunny, he really might as well. And no, he can’t hear any water. Only the crescendoing approach of that airborne death squad.

“Bears have gotten so far down my ‘worry about’ list,” says Robin, “that that’s scary itself.” She picks a cobweb out of Steve’s hair. Steve, meanwhile, closes his eyes. He starts to tremble. “Uh, Steve,” says Robin, “what are you—”

“What d’you think I’m doing?” Bitchy Steve has returned, which Eddie chooses to find reassuring. “They’ll see the Hummer for sure. If I can actually do what you say I did—”

“It makes you sick,” hisses Eddie.

Robin bristles. “Since when did you care?”

“Will you both zip it?” says Steve.

Robin rubs his back. Eddie considers squeezing his knee, then decides against it. Hopper stops scrutinising the skies, brow furrowing: “What’s he doing?”

“Nothing!” Robin’s overwrought smile is stupidly guilty.

“Stevie?” prompts Eddie. “Is there anything we—”

“No, no. I remember this insane crackling. If I can get that going… Gnnng!”

“Anger helps,” whispers Eleven, from the far side of Robin. “What makes you angry?”

“A ton of shit! I can’t… Jesus, it feels like my head’s gonna explode.”

There’s a blinding flash, and a deafening thunderclap. Steve crumples forward, and Hopper grabs him by the scruff of his sweater before he hits the dirt. Eddie shrinks back, his own heart beating like it’s gonna bust outta his chest.

Steve’s now basically hyperventilating. “Ssssh, you did great.” Hopper gently braces an arm around him. “You gotta calm down. Breathe slower, nice and steady, huh?”

Eddie glances up at a bank of wispy grey clouds that hadn’t been there before. A few tense moments pass, the air palpably crackling with an electric tension. Then the noise from the choppers begins to fade.

“They’re turning around,” says Hopper. “Hawks can’t fly with lightning around.”

Robin’s shoulders sink with a relief Eddie shares. Steve, however, groans miserably. Hopper is still keeping Steve upright and asks, “You gonna puke?”

Steve scrunches his face and nods. 

“Stop goggling and get lost,” says Hopper to the others. Nobody disobeys. They’ve not gone a dozen yards, before Robin trips and falls on her face. As Eddie stoops to help her, she springs back up without aid. Far more shockingly, she throws her arms around Eddie’s neck:

“Oh my God, oh my God, I know the powers are awesome but he’s sick and I’m so scared he’s dying. What do we do? How can we help him? WHAT DO WE DO?”

All Eddie can do is press his cheek to her hair, and answer with an honesty that jack-knifes through his guts. “I don’t know, Robin. I haven’t a goddamn clue.”

Part 13

...

PS--In case anybody's worried... while there is plenty of trauma ahead, I only do happy endings ;)

tags: @estrellami-1 @kal-ology @finntheehumaneater (thank you, thank you, thank you!) If anybody else would like to be tagged on this fic or any of my writing, please let me know :) Reblogs, comments and likes also very much appreciated :) Thank you for reading so far :)

(also part of my steve whump fic series on AO3)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 13

#steddie #steve harrington #steddie fic #steve x eddie #steve harrington whump #steddie fanfic #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson #stobin friendship #platonic stobin #stobin fic #stobin

[katyawriteswhump]

the power of love, part 9 (steddie, stobin, steve whump fic)

Steve has a habit of surviving near-death experiences then getting sick for no reason. And Eddie and those fatal bat bites? After an impossible feat of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation from Steve, he’s mysteriously fixed. So, Eddie’s back to being banished, this time with Steve and Robin in tow. Eddie’s healing, but Steve isn’t… and life gets even more confusing, when Eddie develops feelings for Steve, which aren’t entirely unrequited.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

(also on AO3 here)

Steve POV continued

“Sorry.” Lying in his bunk in the gloomy cabin, Steve drags his fingers miserably across his eyes. How freakin’ embarrassing—mistaking his best friend for his parents. “Still dreaming, I guess.”

“How do you feel?” asks Robin.

“Oh, peachy! How d’ya think?” He’s beyond tired of feeling this crappy. What the hell happened this time?

Oh yes. He and Eddie kissed, and then…

“Okay, bad news first,” she says, perching on the bed. “You bled through your bandages again. Got all sweaty and yuck.” He knows this already—from the gnaw in his side, and how he’s sticking to the lumpy mattress. “Good news? The bleeding stopped. The really juicy news—we have a theory about what might fix you.”

She spouts a load of stuff about the water from Lover’s Lake giving him some kind of vaguely defined power. And Eddie sucking it out of him?

He snickers. “Did you get that crackpot theory out of the ‘The Weekly Watcher?’”

“Come on, Steve, this is way beyond a shot-in-the-dark.” He rolls his eyes. Even though he sort of agrees with her. “We need to test the theory. Eddie’s gone to fetch lake water.”

“He’s gone back to Hawkins? Is he out of his mind?” He can’t spare the energy to worry about Eddie. He still does, and it makes him feel worse.

“You all right?” asks Robin. “You’ve gone… kinda gray.”

Yeah, feeling kinda gray. He stops scowling, simply because it’s too much effort. “Is there any non-Fairyland water in this shit-hole?”

“There’s a pump.”

After he’s had a drink and splashed his face, he feels… not much better, actually. He slumps back onto the pillow with a hard sigh. “Robin, I wish it was just us, stuck in this together. You're literally the only person in my life where there’s, like, almost zero tension. I mean, we bitch at each other and all—”

“Never!” she snarks.

“Haha, point taken. It’s about nothing that ever matters, though. I know.... You'll... You know, we’ll…”

“Always be there for each other? I sure hope so.” There’s a quiver in her voice that alarms him.

“You still think one of us might not make it this time?”

“No! I mean... We've gotten through that part, haven't we?”

Sure doesn’t feel like it from here. 

“Listen,” she says, “it doesn’t have to be tense or cringy between you and Eddie, just because you like each other.”

“Yeah, right. We kissed. I passed out! Not cool.”

“Like he’s gonna hold that against you.” She squeezes his arm. He stares at her chipped nail polish, battling a fresh assault from his candy-ass emotions. “As per ever, dates keep belly-flopping into your lap! When we get through this, I swear I'm gonna slap you for—”

An owl hoot interrupts her. She scuttles to the window, crouches down and peeps out. “It’s okay,” she hisses, “It’s Eddie.”

“Your signal is an owl noise? It’s the middle of the goddamn day! Why don’t you wait till dark and send up fireworks?”

Steve grumbles for the sake of it. On the other hand, he wasn’t lying to Robin. He really doesn’t want to handle Eddie right now. He turns his face to the pillow, muffles his ears with the blanket. Someone prods him. “Steve,” says Robin. “We’ve got the lake water.”

He rolls over. Eddie’s there, brandishing a plastic bottle of clouded liquid. He fixes on Robin. “You want me to drink that shit?”

“Not unless you want to die of what half the soldiers in the Civil War did,” says Robin.

Steve shares a moment of bafflement with Eddie. “How am I gonna get shot drinking lake water?”

“They died of dysentery, Dingus! You literally did nothing in history other than crack moronic jokes and eat breakfast, did you?”

“Whatever,” mumbles Steve. He’s not sure what dysentery is. Sounds sucky. “What are we supposed to do with it, super-brain?”

“Erm, try pouring it.” Robin peels off the freshly bloodied bandages from Steve’s side, grimacing as dramatically as ever. “To be fair, this is disgusting and almost as risky. If nothing good happens, though, we can wipe it off. Yay!”

She drips on the water. For a split second, it’s ice-cold, and he hisses. “Ow… Jesus, Robin!”  

“Sorry.”

“Nothing’s happening,” he says. “Oh, hold on. Gnnng, no, no, no, no, no!” 

Steve’s flesh and blood blend into pink froth, sizzling like he’s been doused in boiling chip fat. Robin jolts backward; Steve whimpers, helpless to stop himself. Eddie, meanwhile, grabs Steve’s hand, as the unbearable scalding subsides into a strong but tolerable itch. Steve inhales raggedly, lifts his head to confirm that the bat bites have knitted again, leaving a wet mess of red puckered marks and scars.

“I guess that could’ve gone worse.” Eddie sounds spooked.

“Could’ve gone worse? It hurt like… What just happened? WHAT JUST HAPPENED?” Steve’s got a crazy urge to scream… no… run! Pushing himself up onto his elbows takes everything he’s got. “Oh my God, oh my God.”

“Ssssh, it’s okay.” Robin’s now gotten her arms around him, and Eddie’s still holding his hand. “This proves that it’s the water. You’re not flayed, or Vecnad, or Henryd or whatever. Eddie and I discussed it and—”

“What!?!” Steve wriggles free and laughs, because this is hysterical. “You discussed that without including me?”

“We never believed you’d been taken by the dark side,” says Robin, her hand on her breast. “I swear!”

“That’s not the… Ow!”

“Does it still hurt?” asks Robin.

Steve stares daggers at Eddie: “Can you quit crushing my fingers already?”

“Sorry.” Eddie drops Steve’s hand, a little too keenly—leaving Steve oddly desolate, despite his request. Other than that, he does feel better.

And grouchier than ever.

Half an hour later, he’s well enough to get up. He washes himself down at the pump, attempts to salvage his hair, then joins the others in preparing a baked-bean and banana supper. He argues forcefully that both parts can be served together, and it will taste awesome.

Which they do.

Ignoring Robin’s advice, he sips a bottle of bad beer. Eddie is clad in a clean Hellfire Club t-shirt—given to him by Henderson—and regales them with news from Hawkins. This proves depressing, given that Eleven and Hopper are now outlaws too. Then they chat about what hiding places they might move onto next.

“We’re not quite as remote as we thought here,” says Robin. “I found a track that leads pretty close, and you could probably get an off-roader all the way to the camp.” She glances at Steve. “We need somewhere really tucked away, and maybe closer to Lover’s Lake, right?”

“Why are you asking me?” he snaps. “You two seem to have all the answers. I haven’t a clue.”

Steve crawls into his bunk first. For once, sleep doesn’t clobber him instantly. Despite what he said to Robin, he has got theories—stupid though they seem—about the lake, and that time he nearly drowned in it.

He should’ve been terrified of swimming after that. He never was. Plus, he’s been dreaming about that period of his life lately. Dreaming about it a LOT, now he thinks about it.

After a while, he gets sick of his churning thoughts and sits up. Moonlight streaks through one of the high bunk room windows, revealing that Eddie is awake too, cross-legged on the floor. He’s muttering to himself, fiddling with his hair, then his hands. 

On spotting Steve staring at him, he presses a finger to his lips, picks up a flashlight, and motions toward the door. Steve pulls on a sweater and follows him outside. It’s a dry night. Banks of bruise-brown clouds semi-obscure a near full moon and a few hazy stars. It’s cool too, though Steve’s palms are getting clammy.

He tracks Eddie into a nearby cabin, filled with a ton of old rope and lumber-hauling equipment. He then remembers he’s annoyed, and folds his arms.

“Totally love how you two went behind my back and discussed whether I was flayed or not.”

Eddie plonks down the flashlight. “Kinda obvious that we had to. We didn’t tell you, because we didn’t want to stress you out, and… honestly? We never bought it. Dustin was highly sceptical—”

“You discussed me with Henderson too? That’s great!” Steve plants his hands on his hips, growing too hot and bothered to think straight: “Maybe you’re ALL idiots. Maybe I am somehow flayed! Right at the start, that Upside Down thing came through my pool. Possibly. To take Barb. Now the water from near a gate fixes me and—“

“And I make you fix me!” Eddie’s preening grin is vicious. “Perhaps I’m the source of the magical shitstorm? Did that ever cross your egotistical rich-brat mind, Harrington?”

Eddie might as well have punched him. Steve’s still reeling from the blow, when Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose:

“Look, I’m sorry, man,” mutters Eddie. “I’m pretty stressed, too. Dustin was telling me about how you got sick whenever you left Hawkins as a kid, and—"

“Wow! Good job I’m an EGOTISTICAL BRAT, because I really am a hot topic! Did Nance reel off an article for the Hawkins Post?”

“Uh, Steve?” Eddie takes a step closer then abruptly pulls short. “I apologised, okay? Why exactly are we arguing about this?”

“I… Oh Christ, Eddie, I honestly don’t know.”

Steve’s shoulders slump. How excruciatingly typical! That little egg-head Dustin had a hunch about something that’s only just occurring to Steve, and which… Shit, the whispers in his mind are scary.

This is where you come clean, Harrington. This is where you say: "I almost drowned in that lake in 1978. What if it wasn't 'almost?' What if I died back then, at eleven years old. What if something or someone in that water brought me back, and for good or evil, it's still got a hold of me?"

Does it make any sense? Would Eddie simply think him egotistical again, or stupid? Suddenly, all he wants is to forget the whole wide world, especially the freaky parts. Everything apart from… 

…Eddie.

Who is hunching awkwardly away from Steve, palpably scared to get too near, let alone touch him. The naked longing in those gorgeous brown eyes, however, is reassuring. 

“Look, I'm sorry too.” Steve licks dry lips. “I’ve been a complete asshole today, I know. It’s just… What happened when we kissed is so humiliating.”

“Why? It’s not your fault. Believe me, Stevie, I’d kiss you again in a heartbeat, if it wasn’t for… uh…”

Eddie’s adorable blushes and the silly pet name are invitation enough. Steve closes the gap between them, leans in and whispers:

“You win. Maybe we shouldn’t kiss again till we’ve figured out exactly what’s going on, but… C’mon, man, you’ve touched me plenty without any bad repercussions. I slept in your lap.” We freakin’ spooned! “There’s gotta be something fun we can do.” 

Eddie shakes his head, squirming hilariously. “You take a turn for the worse, papa bear will rip my guts out.”

“What are you talking ab… Oh, Robin? Seriously?”

“Look, I really don’t want to hurt you.”  Steve’s chest pangs, because this could be a brush off. 

Or it might not be.

“C’mon, Munson. Promise I’m not gonna break.” At that, a dirty little smile plays on Eddie’s mouth, which sends sparks through Steve’s veins. “What you thinking?”

The smile evolves into a filthy laugh. “All right, before you get out the thumb-screws—I used to have this fantasy about you. It’s totally messed-up, kinda kinky. I wouldn’t expect you to be up for it, even if we didn’t have our current, uh, issues.”

“Oh!” To be fair, Eddie is right. Steve has never been into kinky shit. That said, before this guy hijacked his heart, he’s never salivated at the mere thought of tattoos. “Um, try me?”

Eddie husks his little scenario into Steve’s ear, and Steve decides he’s totally game. 

“It’s a kook-ball daydream,” says Eddie. “We shouldn’t really—"

“You wanna tie me up, Munson? We got plenty of rope a night to kill.” He slinks his arms up and under Eddie’s t-shirt. “Let’s do this.”

Part 10

tags: @estrellami-1 @kal-ology (thank you, thank you, thank you!) If anybody else would like to be tagged on this fic or any of my writing, please let me know :) Reblogs, comments and likes also very much appreciated :) Thank you for reading so far :)

(also part of my steve whump fic series on AO3)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 10 Part 11

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington whump #steve x eddie #steddie fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington x eddie munson #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson #steve & robin #stobin friendship #platonic stobin #stobin fic #steve and robin #steddie fanfiction #steve and eddie