#on the topic of steve dustin is the one that tells him he likes robin | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mydearzero · 2 years

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Posters on the Wall | E.M. x Reader

MASTERLIST

Summary: Your bedroom is covered in posters of your celebrity crush; Kirk Hammett. It's not until Steve points it out that you notice a... similarity to another metalhead you know.

Smut, afab reader, PWP

Warnings: Daddy kink, spanking, degradation, name calling (slut, whore, bitch), slight breeding kink, unprotected sex, fingering (f rec), penetrative sex, creampie, slight praise kink.

5.1K words

18+ MINORS DNI

Your best friend Steve had been in your room many times before. There were no new posters, no new knick-knacks, which is why it was strange he suddenly seemed so darn interested in them. "You know..." He started, putting one hand on his hip and the other on his chin. Oh god, this can't be good.

"You really have a type. Have you ever noticed?" He motioned to a couple of posters on your wall. They were primarily of popular metal and rock bands, but there were some solo posters of members you were crushing on. Kind of. Mainly Kirk from Metallica, but who could blame you? Kirk was 21 when he joined the band in 1983 and had the perfect looks and talent for you to swoon over. He was your favourite.

"What do you mean? A type?" You questioned, putting quotation marks around the 'type'. Steve laughed and pointed at a poster of Kirk that was hung right above your bed. "You don't see it?" He asked, eyebrows raised. You shook your head and shrugged.

"These guys look an awful lot like someone we know, don't you think?" Steve gestured at a cluster of pictures on your wall. Amongst the photos of musicians and actors, there were a few strewn about of your friends. "I still don't get it, Steve." You sighed as you glanced at the picture of Robin, Eddie and you that Steve had pointed at last.

"You're genuinely telling me that your lady-boner for Mr Hammett here has nothing to do with your crush on Mr Munson?" Steve scoffed. Your jaw dropped as you turned to glare at him.

"I do not have a crush on Eddie! Are you insinuating Kirk looks like him? That's what you were getting at?" You crossed your arms defensively. Your brows furrowed as you thought it through. Kirk and Eddie didn't look alike, did they? Steve could practically see the cogs turning in your head. He knew he was digging up an unspoken topic; your feelings for Eddie.

He didn't know what happened that night in the Upside Down. Nobody did, except Dustin, Eddie and you. The three of you refused to talk about it. Steve and Robin had discussed it and decided it must've been insanely traumatic. Hell, Eddie had almost died. Almost. Everybody had made assumptions about how you felt, but that incident settled it. You were in love with him, whether you knew it or not. You couldn't not be, not with the way you looked at him after that.

You shrugged it off and tried to ignore Steve's insinuation. He trotted down the stairs as you collected your things to head over to Eddie's trailer. Your eyes fell on the poster of Kirk hung above your bed, followed by the picture of Eddie and you on your bedside table. Maybe they did look kind of similar? You sighed as you shook your head at the idea. You closed the door behind you and followed Steve down the stairs and out the front door.

The drive to Forrest Hills was strangely muted. Steve informed you Nancy had had to cancel, but otherwise, it was silent. You'd picked up Robin along the way. As usual, she immediately started chattering your ears off, breaking the silence. Steve pulled up and parked next to Eddie's van.

The man of the hour was already stood in the doorway, smoking a cigarette as he leaned against the doorframe. You didn't get to do this often; hang without the kids. You enjoyed their presence, but now and then you needed this. You think you all did.

Eddie invited you in, and you settled on the couch with Robin and Steve. Eddie prepared some drinks and snacks on a tray and balanced it on his hands as he took it to the living room, a bag of chips clamped between his teeth. He set everything on the table and clapped his hands, waving them in the general direction of the cups. "Self-service, ladies and gentleman."

The night was relaxed, consisting of just games and fun chatter. When Robin finally brought up the topic of celebrity look-alikes, you glared daggers at a snickering Steve.

"I mean, it has to be Swayze, right? Eddie argued. You had been first, followed by Robin. Nobody could agree on which celeb looked like Steve, though.

Robin shook her head in disagreement. "It's Rob Lowe, I'm telling you." Steve scoffed. "So I just look like I should play in Youngblood? Because that's what I'm hearing. I don't even like hockey. Besides, Hargrove looks way more like Rob Lowe than I do."

You ended up agreeing that, yes, Steve just looked like he belonged between the generic heartthrobs.

When Eddie came up, Steve remained exceptionally hushed with a mischievous look threatening to spread across his face. You and Robin named a couple of famous actors and musicians before she turned to you and hit you on the shoulder repeatedly.

"Oh! That guy you had the wet dream about last week! The Metallica one on all those posters in your room!" Robin looked like she'd solved string theory as your face turned red. "Robin!" You whisper-shouted in a horrified tone, putting a hand over your face in embarrassment.

"It's Kirk Hammett," Steve spoke up.

"Yes! Thank you! You look like Kirk Hammett!" Robin exclaimed. You loved her, but God, did you want her to shut up like three sentences ago. Did she not hear what she was insinuating? That you’d had a wet dream about an Eddie look-alike? You wanted the couch to swallow you whole.

Eddie’s expression was illegible as he turned to Steve. “You know Metallica members, Harrington?”

“Just the one. I guess you’ve never been in that bedroom because you definitely would've remembered. The guy is everywhere. It’s kinda creepy, actually. Can’t change in there, feel watched.” Steve shuddered at the thought.

“Well, I guess I do see a similarity. I think it’s mainly the hair, though.” Eddie smirked smugly as he leaned back in the chair.

The discussion changed to one about hair, Steve’s to be precise. Yet you kept feeling Eddie’s gaze on you. You sighed as you reached for a chip and turned to Robin when the boys were busy discussing shampoo. “You couldn’t just have named anyone else?”

Robin shrugged. “They look alike. I don’t know what you want me to say.” She stuffed a handful of popcorn into her mouth.

You watched Eddie as he playfully argued with Steve. The scar on his jaw was slowly fading, becoming less prominent. You guess he did kind of resemble Kirk if you squinted. You could admit Eddie was a handsome guy. Was Steve right? Did you have a crush on Eddie?

You imagined yourself with Eddie on a lazy Sunday morning. Sleeping in, making breakfast, arms wrapping around you as a kiss was planted on your cheek. Heat rose to your face when you realized that was definitely something you could see in your near future.

You tried imagining the same scenario with Steve, and although he too was handsome, the image wasn't accompanied by the same warm, longing feeling. Did you have feelings for Eddie?

Steve and Eddie immediately noticed your flustered expression. Eddie was merely curious, giving you those big questioning puppy eyes. Steve, however, seemed to have caught on. The knowing smirk as he glanced at Eddie before raising his eyebrows at you told you enough. His body language screamed ‘I told you so.’

You really, really wished you could control thought processes. While the domestic scene was adorable, your mind flashed back to Robin’s words and the implication they’d made. You’d told her about the dream in confidence. You hadn’t gone into detail, but she’d heard enough. Clearly, it had stuck.

And now you were stuck. The imagery of that night returned, but the hands trailing under your shirt were clad in familiar rings. The top you took off was suddenly one you recognized all too well. The chest your fingers traced was now adorned with tattoos and scars, the sight of which you were well acquainted with.

Dream-Kirk had morphed into Dream-Eddie, and your breathing quickened when you realized the new mental images had you clenching your thighs, wetter than you had ever been. Was your superficial crush on the guitarist just a projection of your feelings for Eddie?

Eddie had been observing you while he talked with Steve and Robin. You were being uncharacteristically quiet. He noticed the occasional flush of your cheeks and pressing of your legs. You were lost in thought, drink untouched in your hand. He turned to offer you some chips or anything else to your liking.

"Sex?" You were startled as Eddie spoke to you directly. You nearly dropped your drink as your jaw dropped in shock. "What?"

"I asked if you wanted some snacks. Where's your head at?" Eddie raised his eyebrows teasingly. The ghost of a smirk danced on his lips as he watched you squirm and scold yourself. Where was your head at?

"Yeah, sorry, thanks. Guess I'm just a little... distracted today." You sighed as you took the chips from him. You munched on them silently as you sat there mortified. Of course, he didn't just fucking turn to you and ask you for sex.

"What's on your mind?" Eddie asked. You shook your head and chuckled. You glanced at Steve and Robin, who were lost in conversation. "Just, earlier..." You trailed off. Why you were even being honest, you didn't know.

"Oh, I can totally catch you up on which hair products Harrington uses. Apparently, it's this Farah Fawcett hairspray he— Hey! Ow!" He exclaimed in pain when you hit his shoulder.

"You know that's not what I meant, Eddie!" You muttered loudly.

"Hey, I was just giving you an out if you didn't want to breach the whole 'wet dream about my look-alike' topic." He laughed. You sighed as you looked up at him, your thighs involuntarily clenching at his expression. You weren't sure what he was thinking. His eyes darted to your thighs as he took his bottom lip between his teeth.

Your trance was broken by Robin clearing her throat. "It's getting late, your uncle is probably coming home soon, and I don't want to bother him. Should we go?" Steve nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, I guess that's probably for the best." Eddie put his hands on his thighs as he pushed himself out of the chair. "C'mon, I'll drive you guys home." He motioned to Robin and you.

"No, that's okay. I'll take Robin. We live close anyways." Steve smiled. He openly winked at you as he said it. Bastard. Eddie neglected the fact that you lived closer to Robin than Steve did and agreed to be the one to take you home. Perhaps it was time you had a grown-up conversation with him about how you were feeling.

You got in the passenger seat and watched Steve and Robin drive off. An energy you were unfamiliar with filled the van. Tension, maybe? Mutual anticipation? You didn't dare turn to Eddie or open your mouth, afraid of what would happen if you did.

He started the van quietly. You watched as his right hand gripped the gear tightly, knuckles turning white. The left was holding the steering wheel for dear life. You'd hoped the grumbling engine would've broken the suspense hanging in the air, but it did no such thing.

You were almost convinced you'd been imagining things. That Eddie didn't feel what you did. That his breathing wasn't actually any different than usual. That he wasn't being weirdly distant. But all your worries were resolved when his right hand slowly found its way onto your thigh. The strained gasp that left your mouth shouldn't have been as relieved, as suggestive as it was.

"Tell me about the dream." Eddie finally broke the silence. You didn't know his grip on the wheel could tighten even more, but it did. The hand on your thigh was gentle in comparison, fingers tracing circles on the inside that had shivers going up your spine.

"I'm not sure I want to." You confessed quietly, looking out the window.

"Look at me when I talk to you, princess." Your eyes widened at the nickname. His voice had a tone you'd never heard from him before. "C'mon, tell me."

You hesitated, opening and closing your mouth a couple of times. You didn't know where to start. "I guess it starts at a concert. And yo-he's playing the guitar. And I guess that's kinda... hot? And then the concert ends and we... y'know?"

Eddie chuckled at your reluctance. "Shit, I'm gonna need a bit more than that, sweetheart." He squeezed your thigh as he spoke, rubbing it a bit to encourage you to keep talking.

"It's nothing special, really. Just some making out and shit." You huffed, not wanting to go into detail. You tried to recall the dream as vividly as possible, and you were starting to doubt if it had ever even been about Kirk, or if it had been Eddie all along and you'd just convinced yourself it hadn't been. No matter, all the images were of Eddie now. They were consuming you slowly.

"If it's just the thought of making out with me that's been getting you so hot and bothered all night, I can't wait to find out what happens when we actually do, baby." Eddie's hand crept higher and higher up your thigh, eyes never leaving the road.

"It wasn't about you, Eddie." You scoffed. Your gaze was fixated on his profile, but he didn't let up.

"As long as you've got yourself convinced." His smile was mocking you when he finally made eye contact. Your eyebrows furrowed.

"What's that supposed to mean?" You questioned. Were you really that transparent all evening?

"It means you're soaked, sweetheart. And have been since you got the thought of me stuck in your head earlier." He said it like it was the most obvious fact in the world. Like he told you the sky was blue, and the grass was green. A whimper left your throat when his finger traced the hem of your panties. How hadn't you noticed his hand coming up again?

"That's right, baby. Feel what I do to you? What the thought of me does to your pussy?" He stroked you through the dampened fabric. There were no longer any words coming from you, just sounds.

You mustered as much willpower as you could and spoke. "Eyes on the road, Munson." It was meant to sound confident, but Eddie knew he had you right where he wanted. Wet and desperate.

"I'm doing fine over here. It's you we should be worried about. Are you still breathing? Or have you just completely given up on all human function?" His chuckle was dark. Who was this person, and what had he done to sweet, loving Eddie? He was ridiculing you, and you were eating it up. How did he know which buttons to press so damn well?

"I'm breathing." You mumbled. Eddie snickered and shook his head. "More like hyperventilating. Speak up." Eddie finally stopped rubbing your clothed cunt to shift the gear and park his van by your house. You hadn't even noticed you'd arrived.

Eddie clicked and undid your seatbelt and motioned for you to get out of the car. You opened the door and put your feet on the gravel, knees weaker than you'd expected. The cold breeze blowing through the trees made goosebumps appear all over your body.

You walked to the door and unlocked it, not checking if Eddie followed you inside. You knew he never intended on just driving you home. He was coming inside.

You walked up the stairs and heard the front door close and lock. Eddie caught up to you and slapped your ass as you walked towards your room. “Nice house. Can’t believe I’ve never been here.” He mumbled as he walked up the stairs.

As soon as the door to your bedroom was opened, Eddie closed in on you. His hands found their way to your hips as he pulled you close. He looked around the room for a little and smirked. There were a lot of posters here.

He pulled you close and put a hand on your chin, tilting your face to his and kissing you softly. Even when he felt like ravaging you, he wanted your first kiss with him to be good, memorable. He felt you melt into his touch, relief washing over you when you finally got to put your lips against his.

When he pulled away, a whimper nearly left you. You managed to hold it in, but your anguished expression was obvious. “Now that that’s out of the way…” Eddie sighed as he towered over you and walked closer, making you walk back towards the wall.

He pushed you against the wall harshly, pressing his lips to your neck. "I understand what Harrington was getting at, now. Totally feel watched in here. Kinda hot, not gonna lie." He laughed as he pried your legs apart with his knee. He could feel the heat radiating from you as he pushed his knee against your cunt. "You into that kinda thing, baby? Maybe next time I'll take you somewhere with real people. Give 'em a little show."

You moaned as he sucked a bruise onto your neck. "You'd love that, wouldn't you? You're a filthy little slut who likes being watched." His hand shot up your shirt and groped your clothed breast roughly, pressing his lips to yours once more. The knee between your legs was torturing you, never quite giving the right amount of pressure or friction. You tried to grind down to seek it, but Eddie's hands went to your hips and stilled them instantly.

"Nu-uh, sweetheart. Only I get to play with your pussy. It's mine now, isn't it?" His kisses had stopped as he observed your expression, trying to read how far he could push it. You nodded wildly, silently pleading for him to continue. "Yes! All yours!" You whined and tried to pull him back into you.

Eddie grinned at your desperation, bringing his knee up just once to watch you keen. You tried to grind your hips down again but huffed in frustration as he held you in place. He reached for your arms, putting them above your head. He undressed you with ease, only leaving you in your bra and panties. "You look fantastic, sweetheart."

"Thank you, daddy." You sighed with your head thrown back, waiting for the touch of his lips to return. When they didn't, your head whipped back down as your eyes searched Eddie's face in confusion.

"What did you just call me?" He questioned cynically with his eyebrows raised. Your heart sank when you realized your mistake. You'd called him 'daddy', a thing you'd known about yourself but didn't dare mention to any of your friends.

"Eddie, I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me." You stammered, reaching for your shirt to put it back on. Eddie tutted as he took it from your hands with a teasing smile. "No, baby. It's alright. You're gonna stay right here for daddy, right?"

You nodded wildly and pushed your back against the wall again, awaiting his next move. When he reached to turn you around, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. A harsh smack landed on your ass as you yelped, whipping your head around to look at the perpetrator.

"Use your words for me, baby. No nodding or shaking your head, only 'Yes, daddy' or 'No, daddy.' Understood?" He asked, threatening to land another smack on the stinging area. You nodded before catching yourself. "Yes, daddy."

"Good girl."

The two-worded sentence sparked something new in you. A desire you weren't aware of. A need to please Eddie. You'd do anything to hear those words again.

"You like it when I call you a good girl? Made your legs clench, baby. So cute." Eddie whispered in your ear as his hand slid from your ass to your folds, rubbing softly over the fabric. You whined as you searched for more friction. "Yes, daddy. Please." You didn't know what you were begging for. You just needed him to do something.

You were still facing the wall when he pulled at your hips, bending you over. You put your hands against the wall to steady yourself.

He snapped the waistband of your underwear harshly before pulling them down your legs. He ensured his hands were touching you at all times, leaving trails of goosebumps wherever they went. His finger dipped between your folds, collecting the juice on his finger. He put his hand to your lips and bent forward to whisper in your ear. "Taste yourself for me, baby. Taste how much I turn you on."

You took his finger in your mouth right as he pushed another inside your cunt and swirled your tongue around it. Never in a million years would you have believed anyone who had told you this morning that coming nightfall, Eddie Munson's fingers would be knuckle deep inside your mouth and pussy. Yet here you were, and you were loving every second of it.

"That's right. So fucking wet for me. It's embarrassing. Do you have no self-control? Couldn't even think straight when our friends were around. How am I supposed to take you anywhere in the future if you're just gonna be a horny bitch?" Another smack landed on your ass. You grumbled a defence around his fingers, but it was unintelligible.

Another slap. "No back talking, sweetheart. If you're gonna behave like a brat, you're gonna get treated like one."

His fingers left your mouth, allowing you to speak again. "Eddie, please." You begged.

The fingers inside you found a cruel rhythm, curling right under the spot you wanted them to. His other hand, still wet with your saliva, found your clit and started rubbing circles around it. You struggled to stand upright, the arm reaching down your front being the only thing left to support you. "That's not my name, is it, baby?"

You shook your head, struggling to keep it up between your arms resting against the wall. "No, I'm sorry, daddy."

Eddie chuckled at your wanton apology. "That's alright, baby. You can make it up to daddy by lying on your bed for me."

You nearly tripped over your own feet with the speed you tried to get to your bed. The poster of Kirk above it got your attention, and suddenly you understood Steve and Eddie. You did feel watched. Eddie followed your gaze and rested his knee on the bed, leaning over you to rip the poster from the wall.

"Just you wait and see, sweetheart. In a few years, I'll be your celebrity crush." He smiled as he crumpled the poster and threw it to the floor.

"You already are. I'm kind of starting to believe my crush on Kirk was just me convincing myself I didn't have a crush on you." You confessed honestly.

Eddie's hand slid up your thigh as he put a hand beside you, leaning over you. It was only now you noticed he was still fully clothed.

"That's cute, baby. You have a crush on me?" He smirked when he reached behind your back to finally relieve you of your last piece of clothing. You put your hands over your face in embarrassment. You let him take your bra off and eagerly watched as he took off his shirt.

You watched him unbuckle his belt, and nerves settled in your stomach. Were you actually going to have sex with Eddie? You saw his bulge through his boxers and genuinely felt your mouth fucking water. Jesus H. Christ.

You got on your knees and shuffled to him to pull his boxers down. He stepped out of them and let out a relieved sigh when your hand cupped his balls as the other gripped him at the base. He was rock hard, dripping precum from the raging red tip. You gave it a small lick, collecting the liquid on your tongue. The salty flavour of Eddie took over your senses.

His hips bucked and he put a hand in your hair. You bent forward to take him in your mouth, but his grip on your hair stopped you. "Next time, kitten. Just give it a little kiss for daddy, will you?" He asked sweetly. You nodded with a pout, but puckered your lips, pressing a peck to the head of his cock.

"Attagirl." He gently pushed you on your back, climbing over you as he left a trail of kisses up your body. Your fingers discovered his torso, tracing the scars that adorned it. He used to be self-conscious about them, especially when they were more prominent, but you thought they were sexy as hell. They proved he was a hero.

His hand swiped between your folds, appreciating how wet you were and collecting as much of it as he could. He spread it over his dick sloppily, making an obscene squelching noise as he did so. The smile on his face was lewd when he observed you squirming in anticipation. "Didn't bring a condom, baby. Gonna fuck you raw. Gonna fill you up with my cum." He groaned.

You relished in the idea of being filled to the brim. You wanted Eddie inside, now. You tugged at the necklace that dangled in front of your face and pulled him close. That earned you a smack to the tit. A high-pitched cry left your mouth as you watched him in shock. "Desperate fucking whore. I'll fuck you when I feel like it. You're gonna wait patiently, or there will be consequences."

You didn't know whether to be scared or even more turned on at the threat.

He positioned his tip at your entrance and slid inside agonizingly slow. You shuddered as he bottomed out, a guttural moan bubbling from your chest. This was pleasure in its rawest form. He dragged his dick back out at the same agonizing pace before knocking the breath out of you with a harsh thrust.

"Jesus, fuck, Eddie." You tried to hold onto anything to steady yourself. Everything became too much. His brutal pace increased as he gave your other tit a smack. "Was so easy for you when you slipped up, baby. How do you keep forgetting now?"

"'M sorry, daddy." You were delirious when he brought his hand down to rub at your clit. The feeling of his tip hitting the right spot over and over and over, combined with the friction on your clit, was getting you close at a rate you'd never experienced. You weren't going to last if he kept this up.

"Gonna cum already? Feel so good on daddy's dick? Fuck, baby, you're already getting tighter." Eddie rambled as he drilled into you. You were an incoherent moaning mess, a jumbled mix of 'Daddy', 'Eddie' and 'Please' leaving your mouth. He didn't bother correcting you anymore. You were too far gone.

He pinched one of your nipples in tandem with pinching your clit, drawing pained moans out of you. It hurt so good. "Like it when it hurts, slut? Can't cum without the pain?" He asked accompanied by lethal jabs at your cervix. You hated how it nearly sent you over the edge. How he was able to bring out the worst in you. How he knew what you needed, even when you didn't know yourself.

Your moans and whines were increasing in volume and quantity. Eddie could feel you were close and started chasing his own release. He grabbed your shoulder, using it as leverage to push as deep and fast as possible.

You felt him twitch inside. He was no longer talking, just grunting and moaning as he watched your tits bounce with the rhythm of his thrusts. His free hand went back down to your clit and put a delicious amount of pressure on it, rubbing in time with the slapping of his balls against your skin.

"Gonna fill you up. Gonna breed that little pussy full with my cum." He groaned. With a few last thrusts and whines from both parties, he stilled and spilt inside. The feeling sent you over the edge, one last exclamation of "Daddy!" leaving you as you came. He stayed inside a bit longer, admiring your sweaty, heaving shape as you came down from your high.

He slowly pulled out and admired the cum spilling from your pussy with a proud look. He bent down and licked some of it up, making you hiss at the sensitivity of your spent cunt. He chuckled and looked up at you. "Hi." He smiled.

"Don't you 'Hi' me when you just gave me the best orgasm of my life, Munson." You groaned. He just laughed and dragged his body back up and told you to open your mouth. A mix of cum and saliva dripped from his mouth to yours.

"Swallow, baby." He smirked. You did as you were told and showed him your empty mouth. "Good girl." He bent down and kissed you softly, in stark contrast to the proper fucking he just gave you.

Eddie plopped down beside you and looked around the room properly for the first time. He noticed more details now, like the number of pictures of him that were sprinkled in amongst those of Kirk. "If I were to cut my hair, would you still like me? Because it seems like that's your thing."

You laughed and looked around your room. "Yeah, I'd still like you, dumbass."

"Good, good. When Corroded Coffin blows up, you're gonna have to deal with a grand bout of jealousy, babe. That's gonna be me up on girls' walls." He stated matter of factly.

"I think I'll manage."

"Yeah, just go running to Kirk. Maybe by that time, I'll even be able to introduce you." Eddie smirked as he lay on his side, putting a hand under his head to support it. He gazed down at you with an expression you'd never seen on him before. A mix of glee, pride and admiration.

"In your dreams, Eddie." You scoffed as you pushed against his arm, making his head fall back to the mattress.

"Actually, in your dreams. Isn't that how we ended up like this, anyways?"

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steviewashere · 1 month

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I love you guys, so for WIP Wednesday, you get the first two and a half pages of my unnamed, but currently named "Steve Makes Eddie Apologize to Lucas for Not Postponing Hellfire for the Championship Game" fic. Uh, I don't think there's any warnings, but here we go.

You can read it here on Tumblr

Or you can read it here on AO3

——— “So, you and Eddie, huh?”

Steve startles at the sound of a voice, deep and hushed, from where he's been waiting in Hawkins High’s parking lot. Hellfire was supposed to be out by now—6:50pm if his watch is correct—it’s their first time back since March and it would be cordial. But it seems that only Lucas got that memo.

“Jesus Christ, Sinclair!” He yelps. Holds his right palm flat against his chest, trying his best to rescind the spike of panic that is crawling through him. “I thought I told you to quit doing that,” he harshly whispers, rubbing his palm against his shirt. The scratchy material of his polo a balm against his nerves.

“Sorry,” Lucas sheepishly murmurs. Speaking at a normal volume, he asks again, “So, you and Eddie?”

He rolls his eyes. “What about me and Eddie? Can’t I just hang out with the guy without being pestered?”

Lucas shrugs. “You can do whatever you want,” he states, but Steve can already tell there’s somehow more. “But I didn’t think you two would be…buddies. Considering how he feels about, y’know, sports and whatever.”

For a moment, Steve considers Lucas’s approach. His fidgeting hands and his slightly closed off eyes. The hunch to his shoulders and the general unease that accompanies talking about Eddie. Which, that’s particularly odd. Aren’t they buddies, Steve questions himself. Wrapped up in the Hellfire club, their mutual interest in Dungeons & Dragons, the ragtag group of nerds that they are—all of that is perfect for their oddball friendship, at least Steve thought so.

“What’s wrong with you and Eddie?” Steve asks, beating around the bush. He doesn’t do cryptic. And he especially doesn’t do it with somebody like Lucas, a kid already smarter than him by several margins.

There isn’t an answer right away. But Lucas’s shoulders drop. His eyes go from frustrated to…sad. “Remember my championship game?” He asks, though it seems a bit much of a topic change. What does this have to do with Eddie, Steve has to wonder.

“Well, yeah,” he answers instead, “I was there. Had a pathetic date with a girl I hardly enjoyed being around. Mocked Tammy Thompson with Robin. Watched you get that winning shot. It was a, genuinely, awesome championship game.” And that’s the truth. It’s the best one he’s ever witnessed. Which is saying something, considering he’d played several championship games. All of them, though, were major losses. He’ll take those to the grave with him, with how often his previous basketball teams teased him.

Lucas gives a harsh single nod, a small smile that whisks away as soon as it appears. “Right,” he mutters, “I remember.” He leans against the Beemer’s bumper, shoulder brushing with Steve’s. Looks forlorn towards the high school’s doors, where Eddie and the rest of the Hellfire bunch should be spilling out any moment now. Steve looks on with him. Listens as Lucas’s voice drops low, nearly angry, fully spiteful, “I begged Dustin and Mike to talk to Eddie about my game. To see if the Hellfire campaign—which would be happening the same night—could be moved. And I, look, I understand that D&D means a lot to all of them, it means something to me, too. But I was really hoping to see my friends there. If not my friends, then at least Erica.

“They didn’t move the campaign,” he states so bitter, Steve tastes the words on his own tongue, “apparently a game where you’re shooting ‘balls into laundry baskets’ is too…mainstream and norm-ie for Eddie. He refused to move his precious game. Then, get this, instead of getting some random kid to play, they egged Erica in.” Lucas drags his eyes away from the school, head turning slow to look at Steve. He follows suit, eyeing Lucas back. His stomach churns with the vitriol painting itself unsubtly across Lucas’s face. “Color me surprised, I guess, that he’s going out with a jock,” he states, voice carefully blank of anything.

Steve stares on at him. He didn’t know this was the case at all. Remembers getting the phone call about Dustin wanting him to play, but he figured that had something to do with him bugging Steve for the millionth time. Because that was something Dustin wanted. For Steve to play. And, granted, Steve refused because it was too nerdy—unimportant and embarrassing. Yet, now he’s looking into Lucas’s face. Where hurt etches itself like solid lines of chiseled marble. Being told, instead, that Eddie’s holding his own bias.

Maybe he hasn’t removed his biases towards high school nerds, not completely. But he’s coming undone from that mentality. Considering Nancy and Robin and Eddie—Dustin and Mike and Lucas—even Max, they’re all big nerds. They all have some sort of interest with Dungeons & Dragons or theater or video games and math. And he loves them all. Though, Steve’s never stopped to think about the opposite side of the coin. Tail-side, where balls in laundry baskets is considered taboo.

After a deep silence when Steve finally digests this information, his eyebrows furrow on their own accord. Mouth downturning into a harsh frown, one that he feels to the bottoms of his feet. He stops himself in time from balling his hands into fists, but the urge to do so snarls in him like a newly unmuzzled, wild dog. A dog, he thought, that he trained obedient away from his anger. But it seems like once the teeth are bared, they never truly hide away.

“That ass,” Steve snarks. “What—so I have to reconsider all my biases surrounding nerds, reconstruct how I view everybody around me, and realize how awesome it is. And—what—Eddie can just get away with that…bullshit? That’s…What the hell?” There’s a little bit more of a bite to his words than he had anticipated. But it really isn’t fair. The table turns and he’s better for it, sure, but Eddie just…That’s not fair. The dog growls louder, drool burbling in its chops, a bark forming in the back of its throat.

———

#stranger things #Steve Harrington & Lucas Sinclair #steddie #steve harrington #lucas sinclair #mentioned eddie munson #eventual angst and hurt/comfort #angst and hurt/comfort

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drivergemini · 2 years

Text

dungeons & (pink) dragons :: (e.m.)

summary: (part 2 to hellfire baby) the hellfire club returns exactly one week after their last meeting expecting the same toddler to be sitting on the throne. but to their surprise, she’s no where to be seen.

content warning: swears, not beta read

word count: 1058

a/n: the sheer amount of love in my heart for everyone who has supported me and ‘hellfire baby’ is insane. i will never be able to thank you guys enough.

they all sat around the table, glancing at the clock every so often.

“he’s late. why is he late?” dustin threw his hands down at the table in frustration.

“maybe he got caught up studying or something.” all eyes flew to mike. “nevermind you guys are right.”

“he’s never late for hellfire. where is he?” dustin slumped into his chair.

all heads turned as the door was busted open.

“eddie where have you...” dustin stood up and tried to question their club leader.

eddie raised a hand up to dustin to stop him from speaking. “i apologize gentlemen for my late arrival.”

“where’s mei?” eddie turned towards gareth. “that’s what we’re all wondering.”

each boy murmured and nodded in agreement. even though no one wanted to say it to eddie, mei was the only topic of every member’s conversations. all they could think about was mei and her polite self.

“well if everyone would like to know.” eddie paused laughing a little. “i am currently not allowed to bring mei to hellfire because someone, henderson, said ‘son’s of bitches’ in front of her. which i thought her repeating it was hilarious, but my wonderful fiance did not.”

“well this changes everything!” dustin exclaimed. “without her chubby little cheeks hypnotizing us this makes our decision so much different.”

eddie threw his head back and laughed. “i’m glad you guys enjoyed having her her.”

“enjoyed? we wish she was apart of hellfire at this point!” lucas exclaim. “with her cute little face and her mega politeness.” he made a gesture as if he was squeezing her face.

“well boys today we’re just going to have to go mei-less.” eddie plopped himself down into his throne. “so shall we get start-”

“eddie munson god must be in favor of you tonight because work just called and no one is willing to last minute babysit.” eddie stood back up as all heads turned towards the door. “but i swear if mei comes back home swearing again i’m gonna kick your ass.”

they all stood up and quickly crowded againt y/n and mei. mei reached out to the boys with small grabby hands, indicating she wanted to go to them. she wasn’t wearing her pink dragon outfit anymore. instead she wore overalls and mary janes, her long curly hair being in two high pigtails.

“sweetheart next time just call harrington or robin.”

“no! no steve.” dustin turned and glared at his club leader. “we love mei. please let her come to our meetings. i’m sorry for teaching to swear we promise we’ll be better. right guys?” all the guys nodded in agreement.

“so you’re dustin henderson.” y/n narrowed her eyes. “thin ice kid. thin. ice.”

eddie laughed and scooped mei out of his fiance’s arms. “we’ll take good care of her sweetheart i promise.” he kissed her goodbye and walked back over to his chair. “so henderson i guess your plans have changed yet again.” he clapped his hands together loudly, mei looked at him and tried to copy his movement. “so shall we try this again boys?”

“lucas please! you’re all we have left lucas!” the boys all screamed towering over him.

“i can’t i don’t know what to do! look at her!” he gestured in a panic to mei sitting on the table, innocently staring back at them.

“lucas please you have to slaughter the dragon! it's too early in the campaign to want to start over.” mike placed his hand on lucas’ shoulders and shook him.

“slawer dragon!” mei raised her hands up in the air in excitement.

“no mei mei you’re the dragon.” eddie chuckled at his daughter. “you don’t want to be slaughtered. tell them mei. say ‘please don’t slaughter me.’“ eddie made fake puppy eyes at her and put his hands together.

she turned to the boys and did as her dad told. “pease no slawer mei.” and for dramatic effect she even sniffled a couple of times.

“eddie you’re a sick sick man you know that? teaching your daughter to manipulate us like that. horrible parenting.” lucas stood up. “that’s it i choose to run.”

the rest of the club all exclaimed in frustration.

“lucas what are you doing?!” dustin yelled at him. “we’re not even three days in and you’re choosing to run away?”

“she killed everyone! she was gonna kick my a-”

“kick your ass!” all arguing ceased as they turned to see mei grinning from ear to ear.

eddie’s face went white as a ghost. “honey what did you say.”

she turned towards her dad, still smiling. “i gonna kick lucas ass!” she exclaimed, throwing herself down on the table in a fit on laughter.

dustin was the first to start laughing, and then mike, and then the rest of the boys. dustin even ended up hunched over saying he was going to pee himself. eddie tried very very hard to be a good dad and try to tell her that swearing is bad, but he ultimately failed and laughed too.

y/n opened the door, killing everyone’s laughter.

“oooooo. she’s gonna kill you munsonnnnn.” dustin taunted.

“eddie what did you do?” y/n crossed her arms against her chest.

“mommy is you gonna kick daddy’s ass?” mei gasped quietly. she was wide-eyed looking at her mom.

“am i gonna kick daddy’s what?” y/n jaw fell to the floor. “edward munson i can’t believe you guys taught her another swear!”

“but mommy you said if mei mei sweared you gonna kick his ass!” she looked at her mom with the same big eyes she used on the boys earlier, even clasping her hands together the same.

“oh so who’s the bad parent now y/n?” eddie smirked at her.

“come on let’s just go home i’m tired and i’m hungry.” y/n scooped up mei, ignoring eddie’s comment.

as the family walked out, dustin could see yet another grin on mei’s face.

“oh my god. that little monster! eddie’s raising a little demon!” dustin threw his hands up in the air.

eddie turned his head back towards the curly headed kid and let out a tooth grin. he turned back towards the two girls and motioned to fist bump mei.

mike was already staring with a shocked look on his face. “holy shit he is!”

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things 4 #eddie my love #eddie munson my beloved #hellfire baby sushihousebread

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familyvideostevie · 8 months

Text

october twenty-fifth

day twenty-five: steve harrington you want steve to go to the halloween party with you, but he’s being dense | friends to lovers, fluff | 1k

The diner is pretty full for an October weeknight. You had to cram into a booth that is for sure not made for five people. You sit across from Steve, both of you pressed to the window, Robin and Dustin next to you and Eddie on the other side.

The last two weren’t actually meant to be here, but they shouldn’t affect the plan.

Because this is, in fact, a plan. An ambush, really. One that you and Robin hatched and one that Steve does not realize he’s the victim of.

“We’ll take him to the diner and you’ll talk about Nancy’s party and how you’re going to ask another guy and it’ll make him jealous!” Robin had said in a rush over the phone.

“Okay, fine, but he doesn’t like me, Robin. Not like I like him.” You’d thought you kept a tight lid on your long-standing crush on Steve, but Robin, easily the smartest of all of you, figured it out no problem. She's his best friend, after all.

“Not true,” she had insisted. “I know him. And, yeah he hasn't told me about this, but I have eyes. Trust me, okay?”

So here you are.

You take a deep breath and turn in your seat to Robin. “I don’t know whether or not to ask Justin or Thomas,” you say, following the mental script you wrote. “I mean, either of them would make a good Danny.” You made sure to pick guys you know Steve isn't fond of.

“You’re going as Sandy?” Eddie asks. He doesn’t look up from his thumb war with Dustin. You feel Steve’s gaze on you, however. It'll be a miracle if he doesn't see through this ruse.

“Sure am.”

“Hot,” Eddie says. Steve elbows him. “Dude, seriously?” Steve says nothing.

“That dude, uh, what’s his name,” Robin says. She snaps her fingers. “Oh, Chris! He’s tall. He’d work.”

You stir your straw around your milkshake. “That’s true.”

She raises your eyebrows at you. You look over at Steve but he’s munching on his fries, eyes on the ketchup bottle. You raise your eyebrows back at her.

“I just don’t know any of them very well,” you say, really putting it on now. “If I’m going to take a guy to a party in a couples costume —”

“Why the fuck does any of this matter?” Dustin grumbles. Robin kicks him. “Jesus Christ, ow!”

You look at Steve again. He’s got some ketchup on the side of his mouth.

“Steve,” you say without thinking. “Hey, look at me a sec?” His eyes snap to yours. You reach across the table and swipe your thumb across the corner of his lips and then wipe it on the napkin. “You had ketchup. Got it.”

The table has gone silent. Eddie’s eyes are bouncing between the two of you like a tennis match. Oh. Was that…weird? You've done it before. Steve does it to you when you hang out all the time.

Maybe Robin has a point.

“Go with me,” Steve says suddenly.

Robin shoves Dustin out of the booth. “We have to get more soda. Both of you are coming. Get the fuck out!”

“What?” Dustin cries. “What the fuck is going on?” She hauls both him and Eddie away by their arms and winks at you.

Steve seems to take almost no notice.

“Go with me,” he says again, softer.

“Oh,” you breathe. This is what you wanted, right? “I thought you…hated Halloween.” That was his reasoning for not going in the first place when you broached the topic last week.

“Yeah, well.” He frowns. “I don’t want you to take anyone else.”

That annoys you, actually. “Is that supposed to make me want to go with you? You being territorial over me all of a sudden?”

He runs a hand through his hair. “Fuck,” he mutters.

You see Robin, Eddie, and Dustin hovering by the soda machine pretending like they’re not listening.

“Look,” Steve says. He puts his hand palm up on the table. You slowly put yours over it. “I like you. I like you a lot and I want to take you to the party, okay? I’ll wear whatever you want, I’ll do whatever you want. Just please don’t go with someone else.”

Now that's classic Steve Harrington. Brave when it counts.

“Why didn’t you tell me till now?”

The crease between his brows deepens. “I— I don’t know. I’m not good at this anymore, okay?”

“What’s this?” God, he’s making you work for it.

He motions between you. “Liking someone. Wanting to be with them and impress them and all that shit. I’m a bad boyfriend, you know.”

It’s your turn to frown. “I find that hard to believe.” Steve is always so down on himself even when he’s one of the best people you know. A stubborn idiot, sure, but he’s kind and good and there’s a reason you like him.

He shrugs. “But if you’ll let me, I want to take you to the party. I’ll make sure you have a good time, and —”

“Okay,” you say. All he needed was a little shove. Guys are so dumb.

Steve continues like he didn’t hear you. “I’ll take you on a date anywhere you want, too — wait, really?”

You laugh. “Yeah, Steve. Really. I like you, too,” you admit. You tap his ankle with your foot.

He finally smiles. It makes him look boyish and happy. “That’s — that’s good.”

His thumb strokes the back of your hand. “Next time, just tell me you like me, okay?” you say.

He groans. “There better not be a next time. Now you know.”

You shoot Robin a thumbs up, which Steve sees. His eyes narrow. “You idiots can come back now, okay?”

They stumble back into the booth and Dustin zeroes in on your joined hands.

“Oh, gross,” he says. “Really?”

“You’re a child,” Robin says.

Eddie grins. “They’re cute, Henderson. You just miss your imaginary girlfriend —”

“She’s real, asshole —”

Steve keeps his eyes on you and smiles.

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here! promptober masterlist, find all fics under #fvspromptober23

#fvspromptober23 #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfiction

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scoopstomyahoy · 10 months

Text

i’ve seen a couple lavender marriage stobin posts, but what about lavender dating stobin?

they’re both way too young to get married — robin’s parents especially would be shocked, and, well, steve’s parents would just be shocked by his choice. but maybe when robin goes back to school after summer ‘85, all the girls in her grade are asking how she possibly landed steve the hair harrington.

and she’s soooo sick of it. she’s sick of telling someone that they aren’t dating and getting asked the same question by another girl the very next period. she’s sick of the way they treat steve like a prize to be won and not a human being and let’s be honest, a dingus. and she’s sick of the way everyone is scandalized by the thought of him dating HER because at some point, it kind of just hurts her feelings!

and she goes on a rant one day in front of a whole group of people about how basically, none of them ever stood a chance with steve, because they didn’t see who he really was and they didn’t treat him the way he deserved to be treated and she could totally land a hottie like him if she actually wanted to, for the record, and that she’s sick of everyone harassing her over it and making her (and steve) feel like zoo animals behind thick glass.

and everyone is staring at her, and oops, she didn’t say they were dating, but these normies wouldn’t understand the concept of platonic soulmates even if she tried to explain it. so they all think she’s dating steve.

“everyone thinks we’re dating, steve,” she grumbles when he picks her up from school that day. and, well, she wonders what could possibly have given them the impression that they were dating, when he picks her up from school like he does every day, and tosses her a little candy bar, the kind she likes, probably because he saw it at the gas station and thought she’d want it and just. bought it. because he loves her.

steve looks at her. “uh, yeah?”

because this is not actually news. dustin has been convinced they’re dating for months, and she’s been complaining about the kids at school for weeks.

“no, like, they really believe we’re dating now.” she cringes. “uhh. i might have said something that implied we were.”

steve snorts.

“not on purpose!” she cries.

steve snorts again. “doofus.”

“shut up, dingus. it’s a problem! i was, you know, defending your honor—” a third snort “—and i just didn’t deny our relationship like i normally do, and everyone took that as— admission.” her hands fly around her as she talks.

steve is silent. she looks at him. he’s thinking. hard.

“well,” he says, “that wouldn’t be… the worst thing. right?”

“what.”

“i just mean, if we were dating—”

“LESBIAN, steve!” robin points to herself.

“i know! i know, jeez-us. if everyone thought we were dating, like, actually, that could solve some of our problems.”

“explain.”

“like, i keep striking out, but that’s ‘cause i’m not really interested in hooking up with girls who aren’t looking for anything serious anymore. and you said i should try to be single for a while, ‘be comfortable with my own company’ or whatever—”

“it’s healthy!”

“sure! yeah, whatever! so i could be single with you, and you, you could, you know, you’d be a little safer. i could be your… goatee.”

“beard.”

“that.”

“although, i don’t know, maybe for lesbians it is a goatee.”

“rob, we’re getting off topic. my point is, we could… we could be dating.”

robin considers it. “you want to fake date.”

“not like, actually fake date. like, i’m not taking you to the diner and sharing a milkshake with two straws after we see the latest john hughes.”

“steve, we have literally done exactly that.”

“oh. right.”

“wait,” robin says, “wait wait wait. we have literally done exactly that.”

“right,” steve says.

“steve, are we…. are we already fake dating?”

it’s steve’s turn to consider it. “wait, are you the reason i keep striking out?”

“hey!”

“kidding!”

anyway. they talk it out a bit more, and robin warms up to the idea. because steve isn’t wrong, she would be safer if people thought she had a boyfriend. she had never dated a boy before. and dustin might lay off of steve for a little bit if steve admits he was right. (steve groans, loudly, at the idea of ever admitting to the little genius that he’s right.) and they don’t have to make some huge announcement to the world, posting it on the school’s bulletin board for everyone to see.

but maybe robin would stop getting weird looks in the locker room if she had a boyfriend to prove people wrong.

#stobin #stobin qpr #stobin ficlet #stranger things #mine #i imagine this is long before robin develops a crush on vickie because. then the lavender dating would cause a problem.#this miiiiight end up getting continued. as little hijinks. if anyone is interested.

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queerofthedagger · 1 year

Text

red like rust

[Steddie | T+ | no warnings]

It doesn’t happen in the hospital. Hell, it doesn’t happen before then, because before then, Steve has Eddie’s blood all over his hands, crimson-hot and sticky, has his fingers half inside of him to keep him together, has to—

Point is, before the hospital, there isn’t any time to have a breakdown. Steve has never been much of a crier, really, dislikes the entire act of it, but that moment when he had to forcibly drag Dustin away from Eddie’s body so that Steve could save him, damn his stupid, stubborn, hero-complex-ridden nerd-self, he’d thought this time, surely, this entire nightmare of a week, well. He thought it would warrant an A-class breakdown, honestly.

He feels like one, too, like he is nothing but breakdown-to-happen. Feels like his skin is scrubbed raw and his sanity is dangling by a thread worn so thin, it’s only held together by Dustin’s red-rimmed eyes, by Lucas’ silence when they bring in Max, by Robin’s white-knuckled hand in his. In those hours that are nothing but a long, agonizing wait in the fluorescent hospital, both Max and Eddie in surgery while Hawkins’ injured and dead won’t stop coming in around them, Steve feels like crumbling marble, like he’s becoming a ruin with no one bearing witness.

At the end of the night, the kids have been picked up by their parents no matter their protests, Nancy has found a bathroom to have her breakdown in private while Robin is having hers right against Steve’s shoulder, and Steve—

Steve swears he can feel it rip the inside of his chest to shreds, but the tears won’t come, his hands won’t shake, and he wonders how long you can go on like this before it mutilates something irreparable inside of you. --- It doesn’t happen after that either. Not when they stitch his sides back together, and not when the doctors tell them that both Eddie and Max will live, the relief of it almost bringing him to his knees.

It doesn’t happen when he sees Eddie for the first time, skin pallid and stitches angry-red on his face and throat. When Eddie’s hands shake, fingers unsteady against Steve’s wrist as he says, “I didn’t think I’d make it.”

Not when Steve hisses, more venom in his voice than in years, “You promised. You promised you wouldn’t play the fucking hero.”

His teeth rattle with the fury of it, and he’s shaking, too, everything in him itching to shatter into a hundred pieces, but he doesn’t. He can’t.

Eddie merely keeps looking at him, wide brown eyes and matted hair, and he doesn’t apologize, but then, Steve doesn’t think that he could take it. That it wouldn’t be what will make him get into his car and drive until he forgets about Hawkins and dying kids and boys with lie-soaked tongues and hearts of gold. ---

If he hoped it would get better once the shock wears off, this would be a let-down, but really, Steve’s been at this a little too long to still be disappointed in his various shortcomings; this might as well just join the parade.

Emotionally constipated, as Nancy would say. Your bastard of a father to blame, Robin would mutter, fire in her eyes whenever the topic comes up—more so, recently, since his parents came back in the wake of the supposed earthquake.

Which is an entire thing Steve doesn’t touch. Generally speaking, he’s not unhappy to see his mom, but currently, it’s one of the last things he needs.

He still cannot get the tears past his throat, cannot let go of the fear and the anger and the grief—so much godforsaken, blood-soaked grief—that draws tighter around his chest with each passing day.

He wakes from nightmares more often than not, of course, heaving and sweat-soaked and shaking. He jumps at the noises from other people sharing the house with him, flinches away from his window because they always turn on the lights of the pool, and almost bites through his tongue when, for the hundredth time, they try to convince him to move to LA with them.

He meets his father’s judgmental eyes blankly and brushes his mother’s concerns off, and he feels closer to splintering apart with each passing day, and still.

And still, nothing ever fucking gives. --- He tries not to think about it, and the vise only draws tighter. The more he thinks about it, the farther away he feels from being capable of anything but tearing something outside of him apart.

It is lucky, perhaps, that his friends are too stubborn to let him get away with his shit. Robin gives back tenfold whenever he snaps at her, and the kids have stopped taking him seriously years ago. Nancy has to do little more than raise a brow for him to get a grip.

Eddie’s the wild card, and the circularity of that makes Steve clench his hands until his nails draw blood.

The pain’s still not enough. Maybe that’s the goddamn issue, he thinks some nights, staring up at his ceiling with his heart a war drum inside his chest. Perhaps he’s so fucked up, emotionally constipated, whatever the fuck everyone’s theory is, that even Eddie jumping off Death’s scythe just so, that even Max, weeks later, still lying in the hospital, isn’t enough to get to him. --- If he’s honest, he knows it’s not that. He doesn’t know what it is, sure, but he knows that he loves them all so much that it makes his bones shake with the ruby-coloured terror of it.

It’s okay, though, it’s all worth it, even as the days march on and he feels stretched thin and raw and like it’ll take little to make him crumble for good.

It’s okay, through movie nights and drives to the arcade, through DnD sessions he only watches and volunteering with Robin. Through late nights with Eddie on the roof of the Beemer, and through calls that last until the sun climbs into the sky, dawn red-pink and mocking.

It’s all okay, good even, all the old-familiar and the new. The way he sometimes looks at Eddie and aches with want, these days, the pain and the rage almost buried beneath it. Almost, almost, almost. --- It happens, as these things are wont to do, when Steve least expects it.

It’s a tepid June day and they’re down at the quarry, just the two of them—Steve and Eddie, Eddie and Steve, the way their names are constantly mashed together these days a running joke amongst everyone.

They’re not even doing anything, just smoking and wandering around, when the sky opens up above them, the downpour so sudden and harsh that they’re soaked within seconds.

After prolonged moments of simply staring at each other in disbelief, Steve starts laughing—helpless, really, there is no way that he can’t. Eddie looks like a drowned poodle, the joint in his hand sagging, wet, and sad, and after everything, it just feels absurd.

Eddie shoves him and Steve shoves back, and then they’re running, both laughing and stumbling every other step.

“Fuck,” Steve gets out, empathetic and out of breath as he collapses against the side of the van. The rain’s already letting up again, and he looks at Eddie, smiling wide and bright-eyed, just a few steps away from him. “Fuck, I’m so glad you’re still alive.”

It’s such a stupid thing to say. But it tastes like a confession, like something sacrosanct. It tastes a lot like forgiveness, is the thing, and Eddie stills as if he understands it, too.

Around them, the rain slows down to a drizzle, and everything smells like early summer and second chances.

“Jesus, I hope you’ll still think that in a second,” Eddie mutters, and it doesn’t make sense, not an ounce, until he crosses the three feet between them, cups Steve’s face between his hands, and presses their mouths together.

It’s hot, slick with rain and a little clumsy, their noses bumping and Eddie’s rings catching in his hair. It’s also everything Steve has wanted for weeks now, and he pulls Eddie closer, fingers clenching into skin and bone where the bats had almost taken him.

Perhaps it’s that. Perhaps it’s the little noise Eddie makes, as if, despite being the one to finally take the plunge, he is still surprised that this is happening. Or, perhaps, Eddie just has that effect on Steve.

When Steve finally breaks, it is with Eddie Munson kissing him for the first time.

The tears mix hot with the remaining drizzle, and it’s so unexpected that the shock briefly outshines the grief. He staggers, a sob clawing its way out of his throat, and he wants to shove it back down, wants to keep kissing Eddie, clichéd and perfect in the summer rain.

“You’re such a bastard,” he chokes instead, and when Eddie pulls back, eyes wide, Steve sees just enough through the tears to make out the shock on his face, the fear working its way in. “Not about that, you—Jesus.”

He doesn’t get any more words out after that, throat constricting and everything shaking, shaking, shaking. He gets his point across by digging his fingers into Eddie’s hips, refusing to let go when he’s still half the reason this is even happening in the first place. By pressing his forehead to Eddie’s collarbone, and he hates crying, always has, but sheltered between Eddie’s van and Eddie’s body, it’s maybe as alright as it can get.

Eventually, Eddie seems to get the message or at least some part of it. He hums softly, and tugs and pushes at Steve until his face is in the crook of Eddie’s neck, Eddie’s arms around him, and it all just comes out in one inevitable, disastrous wave of pent-up grief.

Steve cries and cries and cries, for the kids and for himself, for Robin and Nancy and Eddie, and for the absolute abundance of shit they all had to go through. For all the futures they won’t have, and how when he closes his eyes, all he ever sees these days is red.

“Because you’re weird and I’m weird, I’m going to assume that you are weeping in awe of my kissing skills,” Eddie says, minutes or hours later when Steve can somewhat breathe again. “As such, I’m taking this as a declaration that you’re just as stupidly in love with me as I am with you.”

Steve laughs, and then he’s crying again, and Eddie presses his smile against his temple as if it is the easiest thing in the world.

So, thirteen weeks after they killed Vecna for the final time, Steve finally breaks.

That’s okay, though, because apparently, Eddie’s ready to pick up the pieces, too. Because somehow, Steve’s ready to let him.

#st #stranger things #steddie #steve x eddie #steddie fic #mona's writing #honestly this is 1k longer than 'just something quick to finally break the goddamn writer's block' was supposed to be #but at this point i'd have taken anything so really I'm not complaining

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undreaming-fanfiction · 1 year

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Fluttering of wings, splashing of waves

Oh look, I finished my entry for @thefreakandthehair's spring challenge! My topic was bird watching and Steddie, enjoy!

Also on Ao3

It doesn't take long for both of them to notice.

The thing is - both Eddie and Steve are fairly observant guys, Steve with his constant concern for everyone's well-being but his own and Eddie's survival being dependent on recognizing when quiet contempt and judging is about to transcend into physical violence or lynching, the good ol' American small town tradition that Hawkins always seemed on verge of.

So yes, observing other people isn't exactly new for them, but now that they were discharged from the hospital ("They made me eat vegetables, Wayne!" "They also kept you alive so that's a win in my book, boy!"), they soon notice that while their bodies were patched up and healed as well as possible, the same can't be said for their minds.

They have been spending a lot of time together, with Nancy and Robin now gone for college. Steve sometimes wonders why it is that all of his best friendships, bonds for life, come from the worst thing that has ever happened to him, but maybe he shouldn't complain so much - the universe decided to drag him through blood, pain, tears and lots of concussions, but then remembered maybe he should get something good too, so it tossed Dustin, Robin and Eddie at him, his little brother, his soulmate and...

And Eddie. Someone he used to scoff at, maybe feel some disdain for or even jealousy, but now...

Steve has always been predictable. He throws himself into danger, takes all the responsibility he can because that's what grounds him. It's easy to keep it together when everyone else is freaking out - you simply need to, there's no other choice. Now that Robin and Nancy are gone and the kids are way more preoccupied with high school and their own healing, Steve doesn't have anyone to keep it together for. Anyone but Eddie.

But that's not really all, is it? Because Eddie makes him laugh, makes him feel at ease and Steve kind of hates himself for it, for not being alert enough in his presence because he's supposed to keep Eddie safe, but he just makes him relax so much, he jokes around but doesn't cross his boundaries and Steve just doesn't know anymore-

So yes, they notice things about each other fairly quickly, but talking about it? That's a whole separate can of worms. "And I have a warehouse full of these worm cans, Steve, take your pick."

When they finally bring it up, it's April of 1987, close to the end of academic school year. Eddie has finally graduated and started working odd jobs, not paying well but at least legal, Steve still rewinding tapes in Family Video and going through potential career options, dragging Eddie into the endless pile of leaflets, articles and even some study programs. "We won't be stuck here forever," he tells Eddie and there is a glint in Eddie's eye, something that clutches at Steve's chest and whispers you will get him out of here. You will make him happy, in any way he allows.

Eddie hands Steve a leaflet about part-time sports coach position. "Come on, Harrington, you know you want to," snickers Eddie and leans back in his chair. "And about every woman in Hawkins wants you to as well, those shorts were sinful, I tell you. But seriously...you'd be great at it. You have a way with kids and you were pretty good in high school, no?"

Steve chuckles with him, but his smile doesn't reach his eyes. Not when he sees that one of the requirements is leading swimming lessons. "I...I don't think that's a good fit," he admits quietly, almost ashamed. "It's not like you're wrong, those shorts did look good on me," he admits and elicits another snicker from Eddie, "but...I don't think I could do all they want me to do."

Eddie frowns, not at Steve but in contemplation, and takes the leaflet back, his eyes impatiently scanning the text. "...oh," he breathes out and gives Steve an apologetic smile. "The pool thing?"

Steve nods and presses his lips together, hoping the words will stay in, but that's just Eddie's strange spell. Steve wants him to know, wants him to know everything, not just the pretty parts of himself. "The pool thing. It's fucking stupid, you know. I thought that I survived all of it, but...I guess some parts of me died too. Which sounds way too dramatic, but I haven't been able to just...live. It's like my life is a minefield now and I've been trying to avoid where they're buried..."

He glances at Eddie and swallows, his throat tight. "Sorry. That sounds so melodramatic, especially saying it to a guy who actually nearly died. I don't know where that came from, please just...just ignore I said anything. But yeah, I don't think I could do the coach thing."

Eddie is quiet for a moment and Steve thinks that maybe he messed things up. Maybe he showed too much of himself, like he always does, maybe he's finally managed to chase Eddie away but then those long, calloused fingers are on his shoulder, squeezing him, grounding him.

"I won't ignore that, Steve," says Eddie and Steve hates how sad he looks, wonders if it would be awkward to hug him, to offer comfort that he himself doesn't know.

"I won't ignore that because I get it," continues Eddie and Steve doesn't think, he covers Eddie's hand with his own. "Why do you think I mostly do night shifts or work in warehouses, restocking or whatever? Why I stay inside most of the time?"

Shame and insecurity now gone, Steve strokes his fingers along Eddie's knuckles. "I've noticed and...I have my theory. But I didn't want to bring it up. Didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable."

Tilting his head back, Eddie laughs and Steve's heart beats faster at the sound. "You could never. But maybe it's good to...to say it out loud. I think we're kind of dancing around it, trying to ignore the stuff that we're dealing with, but maybe it would help. Maybe admitting it will help us figure out how to handle it? Because to be completely honest with you, Steve - I hate it. I hate pretending that everything is over when it fucking isn't."

As if Steve could ever say no to those dark, trusting eyes. "Okay, let's try."

At first, the words don't come and when they do, they are aborted and unclear, but gradually, they start flowing and when they do, they don't stop. They spend the whole evening talking about it, finding the right expressions to explain what the Upside Down took from them.

Steve shudders and grows rigid whenever he hears running or splashing water. From the movie nights and unspoken sleepovers they have, Eddie knows Steve only takes showers now, short and almost scorching, and never runs a bath for himself, no matter how stiff and painful his muscles are. The floating sensation of water used to bring him comfort, but now it is replaced by the memory of being grabbed and dragged under the surface, air leaving his lungs, his head ringing with pressure...

Eddie's breathing quickens and panic sets in whenever he hears flapping of wings. He knows that demobats are no longer in Hawkins, he knows that they're gone along with their master, but he can't help it, he never feels safe outside, can't raise his head to the sky to persuade himself that it's okay.

Steve wants to throw up whenever something touches his neck. Eddie can relate.

Eddie feels the need to cover his wrists all the time. After being held down by demobats, he feels like he needs to protect them. Weirdly it's not his maimed chest, not his scarred sides, but the wrists. That explains the thick leather bracelets.

Steve can't stand the feeling of not being fully there, with marihuana and alcohol. "It's the truth serum," he tells Eddie and admits, finally admits how guilty he felt for giving Dustin's full name to the Russians, wonders how much damage he could do if he ever let himself go. The Russians are gone, but the guilt stays.

And Eddie feels uneasy under the open sky. Maybe it's because it was nearly the last thing he would see in his life. Maybe it has something to do with the bird thing. But it is so difficult to just walk on the street, be in the open. Be vulnerable.

"The funny thing is," says Steve and shifts closer to Eddie on the couch, Eddie with his beer and Steve with soda, "when things were still...you know, shit, I didn't feel this way. I was able to go wherever I wanted, do what I wanted, because the danger was actually there, you know? We did what we had to do and I felt like...like I didn't need to think about it, I just did things. But now...I guess I just don't trust it. Things being fine. Hell, I can't even trust myself," he laughs and it's bitter, pained. "The fuck is this? When did I go from actually fighting monsters to shaking like a stupid chihuahua from hearing someone washing their hands?"

Eddie takes a swig of his beer and closes his eyes, nodding. His hair is messier than usual from lying around and nervous tugging of his fingers, but Steve still thinks it looks great. Or maybe not just great, he wouldn't like it on just anyone, but...maybe it's just that it's Eddie. The thought doesn't scare him as much as it used to.

It takes a moment for Eddie to speak, but when he does, he stares at the ceiling, his eyes large and glassy. "Yeah, I get that. I thought I graduated from being a coward, but-"

"Not a coward, man." Steve hates interrupting people, he was lectured on it way too many times, but this is the single time he feels like it's justified. "Don't call yourself a coward. Because you're not."

Eddie shoots him a small smile. "Well, let me rephrase it. I thought I'd stop freezing when I got scared, but look at me now. Wayne noticed it too, you know? He...he actually helped." He shifted even closer, now sitting so close to Steve their legs were touching. "He told me that he went through something similar when he came back from Vietnam. Just...small flashes. Random things reminding him of what he saw there. It fucked him up pretty badly, he said, uh..." Biting his lip, he took a deep breath. "He said that's why he never got married or had kids. That he didn't feel...healthy enough. Whole enough. But then of course I got dropped on his doorstep and he had to deal with the shit."

Steve is staring now, he's distantly aware that it's not very polite, but damn, that sounds like a miracle. Maybe Wayne is a much stronger man then they are, but he just has to ask. "How...how did he do it? I mean...it feels so unreal. That you can just...deal with it."

"He said it wasn't easy," Eddie mutters, fiddling with his rings. "But he...uh. Shit, this is embarrassing but also kinda amazing? He said I was his biggest motivation to get better, so he...he dealt with those things by kind of overwriting the memories with new ones with me? Like...he got really, really freaked out by bushes and dense woods, you know. Found it difficult to go anywhere where he couldn't see everything around him. But he...he started taking me out to the woods. Bit by bit, I mean, it wasn't immediate, but he started teaching me about nature. Showing me some edible things, animals if we got to see them. I didn't know it back then, but he was freaking out all the time. But eventually, he stopped associating the woods with...that. And started thinking about what he'd teach me next, what our next trip would be."

"Wow." Steve has always liked Wayne, but now? He thinks the man is incredible. "Your uncle is amazing," he whispers. "Just...just amazing. He came up with that and it worked? He did that for you? I...wow."

Eddie laughs, nodding and downing the rest of his beer. "Right? And he talks about it like it's no big deal. He just did it. I wish I had the guts too, you know, because I really want to do some of the stuff with him that we used to do. He's not pushing, but...I really want to spend time with him. Do the same thing he did for me." After a brief pause, he continues. "You know, we have this really silly thing that we used to do that I want to experience again. So fucking much. We call it bird watching, but it actually is more of a bird spotting. We'd just sit together on the porch, smoke and try to spot birds. Like, you'd point at a crow or a pigeon or whatever and the other would say "yep, sure is a bird". It sounds silly, but...I just hate that I can't do it anymore, you know."

Steve stares into the distance for a moment, lost in thought. And just as Eddie is about to nudge him, to ask what he's thinking about, he snaps out of it, looking at Eddie. "You can and you will," he proclaims resolutely.

"Um." He's laughing again, but this time it's a bit awkward, uncertain. "Not sure which part of "I panic when I'm under the open sky or when I hear wings" you didn't hear, Steve."

But his friend just shakes his head, gets that determined look that never ends well for their enemies. "I heard all of it. And I thought we'd all be fucked up forever, but your uncle could do it, man. And he did it alone. We're together in this and I don't know about you, but I'm sick of letting that disgusting place control my every move. So let me ask you - do you want to rewrite memories together?"

And see, this was is thing with Steve Harrington. Once he makes up his mind, he will follow through - and even though Eddie is still scared shitless, the idea of Steve facing his fears alone somehow feels even worse. Cracking open another beer, he takes a mighty gulp before nodding, offering his hand to seal the deal. "Name the time and place, big boy."

They aren't stupid about it, not more stupid than usual. Steve insists on making some rules and plans in case things go to shit. And while Eddie isn't exactly a fan of planning things, this actually does sound like a good idea. So they write it all down, figure out time and place, a calm Sunday when they don't have a shift, around 2 PM so there's enough light and warmth for them to attempt to relax - which is pretty fucking impossible because their destination is none other than Lover's Lake. No use wasting water sitting by a running tap or watch bird puppets, as Steve eloquently puts it.

Steve also insists on choosing just one of the fears to tackle for him and Eddie, making a very good point that it's supposed to be baby steps, not giant stomps, whatever that is supposed to mean. It's actually more like two for Eddie because birds and open sky go together like goat cheese and weird taste or something, but it would be really difficult to separate the two.

And finally, after some research, they come up with a back up plan - if either of them gets too much in their head, the other one needs to distract them. "Doesn't matter what it is, apparently," says Eddie while he is munching on another handful of dry cereal, "it just has to be unexpected. Basically to shock the panic out of your brain. Which sounds...very healthy. Yep. So when I'm freaking out about bird stuff, just...tell me you're getting married to Tammy Thompson or something."

Steve snickers and packs some drinks and snacks as well as a blanket, the forever babysitter. "For you, Munson? I'll describe our whole Muppet wedding and ask you to be my best man."

The walk is...fine. Well, that's a lie. The walk is fucking horrendous but the trees help, giving Eddie at least some semblance of a shelter. His heart is beating like crazy, sure, but he's trying to be normal, he really is, because Steve is keeping it together and distracting him as well as he can. After they spook a bunch of birds and their flapping of wings almost has Eddie hyperventilating, Steve grabs his hand, squeezing it and demanding Eddie tells him about his favorite Lord of the Rings character and why it is Aragorn - that elicits a half-snort, half-whimper from Eddie, but it's enough to keep him on track.

They find a suitable spot, not fully in the open, but covered by tall grass and in the shadow of a large tree. The lake is a few steps away and when they sit down on the blanket, they can't really see it, but the sound is there - calming for Eddie but Steve...yeah, he doesn't look so good. That's when Eddie grasps his shoulder and asks him to explain why basketball is so good and how does one even understand what's going on. "Eyes up here, Steve, tell me everything. How many people on each team. Are there different functions, roles or something like that? And why are the shorts so short?"

It goes like that for a while. Whenever one of them gets too stressed, too quiet, the other one shoots a question that makes them think, about something they really, really like. So far, so good.

Except then it happens. As if there was some twisted re-enactment of their Upside Down misfortunes, a bunch of birds loudly take off and circle above the two, flapping their wings and even though they seem to be leaving, Eddie suddenly can't breathe, he's back on the ground, being held by his throat and his wrists, choking on blood-

"Eddie, hey Eddie, stay with me." Steve's voice is panicked too, he's doing what he can but the questions aren't working, Eddie is paralyzed, rigid on the ground.

Licking his dry lips, he wheezes out, "I think it's good time to surprise me, Steve. Like now. Please."

"Okay, yeah, okay."

Eddie prays for a quick shock. Maybe learning about Harrington's porn preferences. About dirty secrets from high school. Maybe some of Robin's romantic misadventures. Something, anything to get him out of his head.

He gets his wish when Steve leans over him and presses his lips against Eddie's.

Eddie's heart skips a beat. Maybe two, three. But he isn't dead, so it has to keep beating, he thinks, but he can't really tell - not when all of the feeling in his body goes to his lips, to the gentle press that Eddie has been craving for months.

It takes him a moment to realize that it's suddenly quiet, the birds are gone and Steve is still above him, looking at Eddie with concern. "Did it work?" he asks and Eddie wants to punch him, murder him, kiss him senseless.

"Sure did," he croaks and tries to play it cool, failing miserably. Maybe if he turns it into a joke, Steve won't notice that he actually enjoyed this, that this isn't just a distraction tactic to him. "Gotta be careful there, Steve," he laughs weakly, "you might give a guy false hope that this is actually something you wanted."

He expects a disgusted scrunch of Steve's nose, a shock maybe, but instead he just leans down and tucks Eddie's hair behind his ear. "False hope?" he whispers and holds his gaze, braver than any and all of them. "For this concrete guy, it's pretty much an open invitation. Although I should have asked, sorry, it's been on my mind since forever and when I saw you like that, I just panicked. So, uh...sorry. If that's not what you want. I mean-"

"Steve," he sighs, exasperated. "I just had a taste of what that mouth can do and I'm pretty sure you're just wasting its potential." His hand sneaks into Steve's hair and pulls him closer, kissing the tip of his nose. "And I can promise you this isn't a trauma response or something. I've been going crazy about you for months now. Just ask Wayne. Or better, don't. He's been making fun of me for it. Mercilessly."

They dissolve into a fit of giggles and maybe a bit of hysteria, too, but the world is quiet now, the sounds of wings and waves distant and the warmth of their bodies is grounding, safe. "He can start a mocking club with Robin, then. She's been calling me her cute bisexual disaster, if you can believe that," says Steve.

"Oh, I absolutely can." The grin is almost painful, but he can't help it, wonders if he'll associate flapping of wings with Steve's lips now, instead of all the pain and horror. Maybe not immediately but there's no need for giant stomps. "Well, big boy...what do you say we give them something to mock us for?"

Steve leans down and smiles against his lips, his breath tickling Eddie's face. "I thought you'd never ask."

It's several days later that Eddie catches in uncle home, smoking in his chair and staring at the darkening trees. He quietly takes a stool outside and plops next to him, stealing a lighter to light his cigarette.

He tries to act casual, but the disbelieving smile and pride in Wayne's eyes makes him blush, his face being the biggest traitor of all.

He motions towards the trees where something moved, the sound of its wings muffled and distant. "Looks like a bird, right?" he says.

Wayne reaches over and ruffles his hair, takes another drag from his own cigarette. "Sure does."

#LexsSpringFanworksChallenge #steddie #steddie fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #wayne munson #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #steddie fanfiction

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scoops-aboy86 · 2 months

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Not Dating, part 2

part 1, part 3, parts 4 & 5 - also on ao3

This is 1949 words and it was excruciating to write because, like. That internal struggle of how to bring up an out-of-the-ordinary kink with a partner is, uh, yeah. Hm. So, here it is.

cw: panic attack, robin worrying about internalized homophobia, steve worrying about internalized fatphobia

Robin flings her front door open to stop the frantic pounding on it. “Jesus Christ, what—Shit, what’s wrong?”

Steve pushes past her on the right and into the house, swiping his left shoulder against his cheek to buy another few seconds of pretending he even kind of has his shit together. He’d been practically shrieking through the door though, and he’s still breathing hard. “Your, ah. Your parents are still visiting your aunt, right?”

“Yeah—Why? Steve, what’s happening!?”

She’s practically running to keep up with him as he charges up the stairs to her room. It’s not until he’s reached it that he turns around, both hands scrubbing over his damp, reddened face and up into his hair. “It’s not a code red, I just… Fuck, I fucked up, Robs!”

Robin finally catches up and grips his shoulders, peering hard into his puffy eyes. “Dingus, breathe. You look like you’re having a panic attack.”

“Of course I’m having a panic attack, I fucked! Up!”

She’s never seen him like this before, not even after nightmares about being trapped back under Starcourt listening to Dustin get tortured.

Steve almost never cries—it’s like his parents had berated it out of him at a young age, which personally she thinks is short-sighted and dumb and one of the many, many things wrong with the patriarchy. But he’s crying now, tears running down his cheeks as he blinks furiously and paces and kicks at the carpet every few steps. He winds his hands into his hair and tugs on it so hard she’s almost worried it’ll come out. And his lips keep moving like he’s trying to work something out, or berating himself, or both on top of heavy, too-fast breaths.

“Steve, can you talk to me? You’re kind of freaking me out.”

He glances at her, then drags his hands down his face and throws himself down onto her mostly-made bed with a muffled scream into the nearest pillow. Which is probably as close to a ‘Okay, just give me another minute and I’ll tell you everything Robs’ as she’s going to get. So she sits cross-legged on the bed next to him, passes him one of her childhood teddy bears because he likes soft things when he’s upset, and waits.

After a while, he lifts his head, says, “Eddie,” and drops his face back down.

Ah.

Robin has been trying to gently prod Steve into talking about the way he and Eddie have been dancing around each other for months. She’d clocked Eddie’s crush on her best friend all the way back in the Upside Down and silently empathized with the hopelessness of his position, knowing well the pain of falling for a straight person. It was the way he and Steve had both gravitated to each other since Eddie’s release from the hospital, though, that had caught her by surprise. She’s witnessed them cuddling on the couch, for god’s sake. Multiple times! And that’s considered so much weirder between two guys than two girls. But Steve has always shied away from the topic… until now.

“Okay,” she says slowly. “Did something happen with Eddie today?”

Steve shakes with something she first takes for more crying, but he peels himself up again with a peel of croaky, slightly hysterical laughter. “Yes and no. We were going to hook up, but… I didn’t say what he wanted me to, so I guess that’s done.”

“You were—” Robin rests a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Really? Wow, I didn’t realize you—”

“We’ve been hooking up for a couple weeks,” Steve interrupts bluntly, sounding absolutely wrecked to have to say it.

… Last week she’d been trying to coax him towards realizing that draping himself all over Eddie or pulling Eddie half on top of him during movie nights had to mean something. When he hadn’t taken the bait, she’d made some comment about how they lived in each other's brains and were incapable of keeping secrets from her, “You know that, right Steve?” And he’d nodded and agreed.

So. Wow.

“Oh,” she says softly, and despite her best efforts some of the hurt creeps into her voice. It’s not like she doesn’t know how hard something like this can be to talk about, how saying the words can make it terrifyingly real. The only reason she’d told Steve had been the temporary death-defying insanity of both escaping actual, literal, pee-yourself-in-terror-a-little-bit torture and whatever lingering truth drugs said torturers had shot them up with; bringing it up a second time, after all that had worn off, had been scary even knowing he was safe.

But he has to know that she would’ve understood, right? That she could have helped him figure things out so neither Eddie nor him would’ve ended up getting hurt?

And weeks. Steve is her soulmate, her other half, her Platonic with a Capital P, had been doing gay stuff with another boy and she’d had no idea! The guy she only has to look at to know when he’s hoarding the last of the Red Vines for himself, or that he did forget to rewind something before reshelving it, or that the kids put him up to something really stupid that’s going to take up half their day because it involves driving to the game store two towns over or something. How had he kept up that good of a poker face for so long?!

Robin takes a deep breath and tries again, because her best friend is upset and that’s way more important than feeling left out of the loop.

“Steve, it’s okay.” She reaches out and starts rubbing his back the way he likes when he’s just thrown up from a migraine, in the hopes that will help now. “It’s okay if you like boys. Instead of or in addition to, whichever, both are totally fine and allowed and only make you a freak in the eyes of small-minded bigots who feel trapped in their own lives and hate joy!”

He rolls onto his side and stares at her with red, watery eyes with a little sniffle. “I know,” he says sadly. “I know, that’s… that’s that Eddie thinks the problem is, because I fucked up when he asked me. He asked what we were doing and I couldn’t… I couldn’t think of any words, Rob.”

She shuffles around to lie down facing him from the other pillow, and Steve automatically positions the teddy bear between their mouths because he knows she has this thing about feeling other people’s breath on her face.

“I still like girls,” he continues while she’s still getting settled. “And guys, sometimes. Or maybe just Eddie, I don’t know. I know liking a guy doesn’t make me a freak, but I’m—Part of what I like about him isn’t—If I tell him, he might think it’s… weird. Or insulting, maybe.”

“Okay,” Robin says slowly, trying to think through the utter blank she is drawing. “Uh, do you wanna maybe walk me through exactly what you’re talking about? Tell me what we’re working with here.”

Steve hesitates, his gaze sliding away to fix blankly on a loose thread from her quilt that he’s fiddling with. “Yeah, uh…”

Maybe he still can’t think of any words to explain himself. Robin nudges the bear aside and pulls him into a hug, scooching up on the bed a little so he can tuck his head under her chin. “Hey, it’s okay Steve. I'm on your side no matter what, alright? I one thousand percent promise you that nothing you say will make me look at you any differently, no matter what, because you’re my dingus and we’re platonically bonded together by fate and that shit is forever.”

A weak, muffled laugh tickles wetly at her neck. “What if I killed a guy and cannibalized him to hide the body?”

“I’d get you mouthwash and an antacid,” she replies promptly. “Your alibi is that we were watching Flashdance again and I had to wrestle the scissors away from you before you made irreversible surgical corrections to your own sweatshirt.”

Steve snorts. “Fuck, okay. But stop trying to tell people I did that, I was joking about that.” He pulls back, chewing on his bottom lip, and then takes a deep breath. “You know how Eddie’s… gained weight since he got out of the hospital?”

“Yeah?” She does, because at first everyone in their monster hunter club had been worried about how stick-thin the bat attack and subsequent coma had left him. Since then he’s filled back out at then some, definitely no longer underweight and with a good amount of color finally back in his cheeks.

“I like it,” Steve admits in a small voice. “I like touching him where he’s… soft. I don’t know how to tell him that without calling him fat, though. No one likes to be told they’re fat, right? I don’t really like someone telling me I’ve gained weight, because most of the time people only say that when they’re being critical assholes. But… he looks so happy when he’s eating, you know? All relaxed, and he deserves that after everything he went through. And we get high together and I can’t stop touching him, I… I see skin where his shirt rides up I want to bite it. And I actually have! I’ve been freaking out that he’s going to notice and call me on it, but instead he said he doesn’t want to be ‘just’ anything with me and I choked. Bad!”

“Oh,” Robin says, understanding dawning. Not that she gets the appeal of what Steve is talking about, but she doesn’t get the appeal of guys in general so it kind of falls in the same category… And she could’ve done without that fun biting fact. “Oh, Steve…”

She can definitely agree, though, that after a town-wide manhunt and helping to save the world, Eddie Munson deserves to relax and unwind however he wants. They all fucking do, but Eddie nearly died.

The way Steve’s face crumples up hurts her heart to see. “H-he asked me what we were doing and all I could think about was what I was doing and I just… sat there. I fucked it up.”

She hugs him tightly again. “No no no, this is fixable. We’ll come up with a way for you to tell him, okay? It’s just a misunderstanding, that’s nobody’s fault.”

“We’ve been hooking up for weeks and I’ve kissed him everywhere but the mouth,” Steve mutters miserably into her shoulder.

“…Okay, that bumps it up to like, sixty percent your fault,” Robin admits, frowning. That doesn’t sound like the Steve she knows. The Steve she knows loves kissing, he’d literally been known for that back in school; everyone had always gotten to see him and his girl of the week (or Nancy, during the twelve or so months they’d dated) sucking face in the hallways between classes, by their lockers, in the parking lot before and after school. “Why the hell not?”

“Because I was already being weird about it, kissing him felt like it’d be… Fuck, what’s that big word Dustin likes to use? Oh, presumptuous. And… he didn’t try to kiss me either, so I wasn’t sure…”

“Dingus,” she sighs, and hugs him tighter. Then—knowing that when Steve gets going about his trysts he does so comprehensively, no detail spared, and there’s nothing wrong with that, but she mentally braces herself to hear more talk about penises in the next hour or so than she has before in her entire life—she says, “Alright, from the top. Tell me everything so we can figure out how to get you your man.”

Tag list: @steviewashere (since your ask kicked this off in the first place 😘), @hotluncheddie

#wg steddie #scoops words #chubby eddie munson #feeder steve harrington #this is not the kind of coming out robin expected #robin buckley #wg not dating

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kennahjune · 5 months

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hi hi i'm the main blog of who said stuff about steve stimming. OH MY GOD! you responding to those tags has made me stim the fuck out holyyyyyyyyy shit okay. thank you for replying to them!!!!

on the topic i wanted to just talk about steve stimming, if you don't mind lol. god it makes me ill to think about steve being all giggly and he has a high pitched squeal in the back of his throat when he's filled with so much joy that he thinks it's gonna bust open his chest right then and there.

steve who stims by bouncing on his tip toes and rambles to robin so fast that his words aren't even words anymore and he just sighs in a break for breaths and he is GLOWING and his cheeks are sore from smiling so big. he feels like no amount of hand flaps can get across how goddamn big his heart feels inside his chest

steve who shakes robin or eddie when he gets all gooey happy and he does this combination of a back and forth swaying and wiggling his body. he giggles in a way that he finds absolutely embarrassing but he can't fucking help it, he's just so happy

and oh my GOD, eddie who beams back at steve's stims. kisses his head for it or takes one of his hands once he's done flapping them and kisses it. eddie who loves seeing steve happy stim. eddie who often tells steve how cute he is when he's happy. and steve stims even more. steve who pics up the stim of repeatedly kissing eddie's cheek or lips. just. eddie who loves steve so much. eddie who is absolutely in love with his happy steve-o

HI OMG HELLO!!!

YES YES YESSSSSS

The kids picking up on Steve’s stims and him and Dustin rubbing off on each other and stimming together when they’re particularly happy abt smth.

El and Max making Steve bracelets and shit so that when he does his hand flaps his bracelets jingle and clank in a way that soothes his brain.

Lucas jumping up and down with him whenever they’re playing together because he just can’t help it. Steve’s happy so he’s happy!!

Mike not understanding at first but slowly picking up on Steve’s facial expressions and copying them without even realizing.

Will noticing that Steve stims the most when talking about Eddie and taking his time to ease out all the info he can because he loves seeing Steve so goddam happy.

Eddie seeing Steve grin stupid-big when flirting and Steve trying to hide it but Eddie takes his face in his hands gently and presses kisses all over his face— his cheeks his forehead his nose (Steve’s nose scrunches so ADORABLY—) and when he finally kisses his lips Steve’s smiling so much it’s more teeth than anything but that’s fine because Eddie Did That.

Steve bouncing and pacing and shaking Robin and barely breathing because he’s gushing about smth Eddie said or did that day and Robins looking at him like he hung the moon because he’s just so happy and she loves that he’s so happy.

Wayne picking up on the stims and noticing that Steve can’t always get the flaps out and no matter when he does his hands are still awkward so Wayne gets him a little fidget toy of some kind and Steve is fucking ECSTATIC and immediately goes into stimming because Wayne noticed and helped and UGH—

And it’s not just hand flaps and bouncing. It’s full body shivers and wiggles and shakes!! Steve will shake his head from side to side hard he’ll get a headache sometimes but it’s fine because Eddie is simply looking at him and smirking that Smirk and Oh Gosh—

You’ve got me on a rampage now lmao

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asexual-juliet · 11 months

Text

stranger things characters ranked by how aware they are of will’s gayness

1. jonathan: jonathan has like. canonically known since before will has and i could talk about it for hours <3 there is such a softness with which he approaches the matter like even when will is so young in those s1 flashbacks, jonathan is choosing his words so carefully… “you shouldn’t like things because people tell you you’re supposed to” is like. the ultimate proof for me that jonathan knows before will does. and like in s4 with the surfer boy kitchen scene… fucking christ he is so gentle with it like he’s not avoiding the topic but he is letting will know that it’s okay and he’s a safe person to go to with it if he needs to… anyway jonathan knows and has known and loves his brother so much that he is willing to give him the space he needs to figure it out himself but that is not what this post is about. moving on:

2. robin: robin clocks this boy the first time he walks into scoops ahoy trailing after mike like a lost puppy. like i dont have much to say here but her gaydar definitely goes off and she starts trying to drop subtle hints that she is also gay but it takes him a little while to clock her back.

3. argyle: argyle takes one look at will and immediately clocks him. it’s just a given. the sky is blue, the earth is round, will is gay. at one point he mentions it very casually to jonathan like “one day when will has a boyfriend—” and jonathan is like “argyle you can’t just say that!” and argyle, stoned out of his mind, is like “dude was it a secret?”

4. lucas: it takes lucas a while to put the pieces together but all things considered he’s pretty insightful about it and starts to consider the possibility around the end of middle school. the evidence keeps piling up and lucas does his best to be silently, subtly supportive but doesn’t push will before he’s ready.

5. max: max has put the pieces together in the same way that lucas has but she’s done it much faster. this is partly because she is a cali girl who is familiar with the idea that homosexuals exist but mostly because she is a bisexual legend. she is slightly less subtle than lucas but still gentle. she kind of lets will know that she knows but never directly acknowledges it.

6. steve: steve does not even think about it until robin very casually asks him “so little byers is gay, right?” during a movie night, to which steve has to pause the movie and go holy shit. is he?? but from then on he is like subtly-but-not-so-subtly supportive yk? like he thinks he’s being smooth with it but it is blatantly obvious to everyone else who knows what’s going on.

7. dustin: he is such a smart boy and yet such a dumbass. he has absolutely no fucking idea god bless.

8. mike: mike has no fucking idea. mike knows gay people exist but would never think to consider the possibility that someone he knows is gay. mike thinks of gay people in the way he thinks of like. flamingos. like they definitely exist somewhere but not in hawkins. and even if faced with the possibility he’d just be like “will told me once in third grade that he thought jenny owens was pretty he can’t be gay. checkmate, fuckers.”

9. nancy: nancy does not think about will or gay people enough to give much of a shit about this particular matter.

10. el: el does not know what gay means <3

#stranger things #st #will byers #jonathan byers #argyle #argyle stranger things #robin buckley #lucas sinclair #max mayfield #steve harrington #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #nancy wheeler #el hopper #mine

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over--and-out · 2 years

Note

could u do a eddie munson x male! reader where reader and eddie fall asleep on the couch together on accident n wake up all snuggly... fluff fluff tooth rotting fluff

Fuck You, Simon Belmont

Eddie Munson x Male Reader

Summary: Steve and Robin challenge you to an all-nighter. (More in the ask above.)

Warnings: spoilers for season 4 but not really, Robin teases you about Eddie, fluff fluff fluff, tooth rotting fluff, cuddling (omg so scandalous), language

You and Robin had always been close. You both supported each other and you talked about everything.

And for Robin, everything meant everything.

You're glad nobody else was on the channel you two were using on your walkie talkies because Robin was bringing up all of the worst topics possible. You were walking down the road in the bright morning, agreeing with Eddie that you'd be at his trailer as soon as you woke up.

"Hey, think about it. You could get laid tonight." A scoff escaped you and you shook your head. "As if, Robin. He's probably not even gay."

"Oh, bullshit?" Robin exclaimed with clear amusement in her voice. "Black handkerchief in his back left pocket? Come on, (Y/n)." You laughed softly in exasperation. Before you could respond, the last person you expected had spoken through. Dustin.

"Yeah, I'm so telling Eddie that."

"HENDERSON!" Robin yelled and then both ends went silent. You laughed loudly, knowing that Robin was most likely on her way to bully a child. Shaking your head with a small smile on your face, you made the rest of the way to Eddie's trailer in silence. Before you even knocked on the door, Wayne had opened it with a rushed expression. You quickly moved out of his way as he ran down the stairs, briefly waving at you before telling you to behave.

It was strange but honestly, not the strangest thing you've seen while being at the Munson trailer. It was dead silent which told you one thing; Eddie was still asleep. An evil smirk rose on your face before you set your backpack down on the living room floor and made your way to his room.

As you thought, Eddie was passed smooth out. Oh, he definitely had it coming.

You hooked your fingers, creeping closer to his sleeping form and plotting your method of attack. Quick as lightning, you attacked his sides with your hooked fingers and burst into laughter at the screech that escaped him while he fell off the bed. Before he got back up, you darted out of his room in an effort to find somewhere to hide.

"YOU ARE SO DEAD!" His voice was groggy and scratchy from sleep and you heard him trip over his blanket when he attempted to stand. You managed to hide in a closet just as Eddie slid around the corner in his socks. He ripped the closet door open and let out a wicked laugh as he grabbed you, your attempts to hide evidently futile.

Without having the chance to process anything, Eddie's fingers latched onto your sides and he began ticking you.

"EDDIE!" You burst into laughter, immediately bending forward at your stomach and he just simply laughed evilly at you.

"How's my rib piano?" He said dramatically as he continued his evil plots.

"Eddie stop- I'm gonna pee-" at the mention, he huffs and stops. "You're lucky I don't want to clean that off of my carpet. You gave him a faux offended look and playfully smacked him on the shoulder.

As if the entire interaction never even happened, Eddie turned around and looked at the clock while scratching the back of his head. "What time is it?" You waited for him to comprehend the time of the clock, but he just turned back to you with a blank expression. Your brows furrowed in confusion. "Well?"

"Oh, it's 10:32. I didn't know you wanted it too."

You laughed softly, shaking your head fondly. "Well, the challenge starts at midnight so we better find ways to occupy ourselves."

About a week ago, you and Eddie had made a bet with Steve and Robin. The four of you were in Family Video and Robin had made the remark that she could watch movies literally all day. Steve had said that he could do it longer before Eddie quipped in with, "Not to brag, but I've stayed up for two days straight to watch a marathon of the entire Transformers cartoon."

And then Steve had the bright idea. It would be a bet, and whoever stayed awake the longest would win. There was no prize, but all of you let your inner children come out when you mutually agreed that the winner would have bragging rights and be deemed the coolest. You had all agreed that you'd check in with the other group every hour to make sure they hadn't fallen asleep, and then the bet was set.

So now it was 10:32 in the evening, exactly twelve hours later. You had done a number of things today, including watching Eddie throw food into the air and trying to catch it with his mouth. Each time he caught one he bragged about being the absolute best at it, and that he could beat anybody. But you didn't have the heart to tell him he missed more than scored.

"Hey, I got this new game a couple of weeks ago and I still haven't played it yet. Wanna check it out?" Eddie's arms were crossed and one of his hands was fidgeting with his hair. "Yeah, sure, games are a good idea. What's it called?"

"Castlevania."

You immediately agreed, the game sounding interesting to you and Eddie set up the Famicom so you could play. You had both agreed that one of you could finish a stage, and then the other got to play a stage. It was Wayne's Famicom, but Eddie knew he wouldn't mind if the two played it.

You had quickly found out that it was more entertaining that you had originally imagined, hours upon hours passing and soon it was three in the morning.

Eddie was beginning to get tired, leaned back on the couch with you laying against his side and practically cuddling him. He had said something about it earlier, acting sarcastic and annoyed but in all actuality he didn't mind it at all. He was very fond for you, cared for you very much.

He loved you.

Biting his lip, he focused on the television when his character, Simon Belmont, ran into a boss battle. Or, he thought he was focusing. As much as he tried, all he could think about was your warmth pressed against his side in the cold room.

"You know, I've been having an internal debate." His tone was lighthearted but he annunciated almost every syllable because of how focused he was. "I've been wondering... If I asked you out on a date or some shit, would you hate me." His fingers moved quicker on the controller, anxiety running through him but he tried to keep his confident wall put up.

The longer you stayed silent, the more anxiety he got and it pushed him to be more aggressive in his game.

The boss made the final blow that killed his character and he huffed. "Fuck you." He muttered it under his breath and sighed.

You had still not said anything so his gaze drifted down to you and when it did his heart clenched in his chest.

You had fallen asleep.

That anxiety that he had quickly faded and a soft smile took over his features. His arm wrapped around your shoulders and he hugged you gently, setting the controller down and before he even knew it, he fell asleep.

When you woke up in the afternoon, you almost wanted to go back to sleep. You were warm and comfortable, very much so. Your eyes fluttered shut before opening again and noticing that the television had been turned off and it dawned on you that you fell asleep. Shit, you fell asleep.

You went to sit up to see if Eddie did as well, and you immediately froze. You were looking at him. He was laying on top of you.

You were laying on your back and he was laying on you, his arms wrapped around your waist and his cheek laying on your chest. One of your hands rested on his upper back, the other tangled into his hair. Your heart started beating a hundred miles a minute. You were legitimately cuddling with Eddie Munson. He looked peacefully asleep, his cheek smooshed into your shirt and his breathing was letting out a small whistle. You smiled softly, your face flushing and you threaded your fingers through his hair. The action came easy to you and you repeated it, waiting a minute before speaking.

"Eddie. Eds, wake up." You gently shook him and he groaned before burying his face into your chest, his fingers clenching into the back of your shirt. "Mmm... 'M too tired." His voice was muffled in your clothes, the tone deep and groggy the way it usually is when he speaks for the first time after sleeping.

"Eddie." Your voice was a bit more stern this time and he groaned loudly before tilting his head up and looking at you while giving you the sleepy version of his star smile. "Hey, sweetheart." Your face flushed darkly. Eddie Munson was laying on top of you, hair a mess and voice deep and groggy, smiling at you and calling you 'sweetheart.'

"You're staring." You blinked and his smile softened before he slipped his hands from around your waist and he sat up. It was remarkably colder without his warmth, and you found that you missed it a lot. Your eyes widened as a new thought appeared in your head.

"We lost..." You groaned in defeat before he laughed softly and shook his head, brushing his long brown hair out of his face. "Nah, Steve crashed first. Happened when I was setting up the game. I checked in after I found you asleep and got no response."

Your eyes lit up and you smiled. "So you won?" He shrugged and smirked. "My lips are sealed. I won't tell that you crashed too." You scoffed playfully and shoved him, Eddie giving a dramatic body jerk and throwing himself off the couch. You both laughed before he shot up and planted his hands on the couch next to your hips, looking you in the eyes. "So." He started confidently, smirking before he lowers himself and lays his elbows on the couch. "I had this grand revelation." He moved his hands around to dramatically annunciate each word. "I had it while you were asleep, but-" he paused, smirking. "That doesn't matter because now is just as good of a time to ask as any." Your brows furrowed and the entire time he talked, you were smiling at him softly.

"Well, um..." His hands clamped together nervously before he looks back up at you. "Do you wanna make out?" He asked a big sheepishly and you laughed softly as your face flushed.

"W-What?" You asked shyly. Eddie licked his lips before speaking again.

"Do y'wanna make out? I mean- I was gonna ask you out too, but I figured that's a good place to start." He was smiling softly, and that alone gave you the confidence to speak.

"Eddie Munson, did you just ask me out?"

"I did," he laughed softly. "And you haven't said no yet, so..?"

"I graciously accept your offer." He smiled before propping himself up on his hands, one resting gently on your waist before he kissed you.

#eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things eddie #fanfic #eddie munson x male reader #fluff #tooth rotting fluff #sleepy tiem with eddie #robin buckley #steve harrington #dustin henderson

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steviewashere · 1 month

Text

Balls in Laundry Baskets: An Apology

Rating: Teen and Up CW: Bitchy/Mean Steve Harrington, Mean Eddie Munson (Both Briefly and For Good Reason) Tags: Post Season 4, Post Canon, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Arguing, Steve Harrington & Lucas Sinclair Friendship, Eddie Munson Gets Put in His Place, Lucas Sinclair is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Protective Steve Harrington, Emotionally Hurt Lucas Sinclair, Emotionally Hurt Steve Harrington, Established Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson Means Well He's Just Defensive, Hurt People Hurt Others

This is chapter one, which also includes the first two pages that I already posted. Please keep your expectations low, as I'm still working on the second and final chapter.

Read on AO3

Read Chapter Two Read Chapter Three (Final)

🏀—————🏀 “So, you and Eddie, huh?”

Steve startles at the sound of a voice, deep and hushed, from where he’s been waiting in Hawkins High’s parking lot. Hellfire was supposed to be out by now—6:50pm if his watch is correct—it’s their first time back since March and it would be cordial. But it seems that only Lucas got that memo.

“Sorry,” Lucas sheepishly murmurs. Speaking at a normal volume, he asks again, “So, you and Eddie?”

He rolls his eyes. “What about me and Eddie? Can’t I just hang out with the guy without being pestered?”

“That’s what I thought,” Lucas says, “and I know, I know, that Dustin and Mike tried everything in their power. And that Eddie was the one to, y’know, be the asshole. But I thought that maybe my friends would be on my side. That they’d skip the game, show Eddie up. Not get my little sister involved or have fun without me or…I don’t know.” And the way he says those last three words stings something acidic inside of Steve. Corrosion and battery acid hot and alive in his stomach. Anger reaching the surface of his skin, words crawling and resonating in his mouth.

The doors to the school open distantly and Lucas suddenly perks back up, blossoming from where he was wilted against Steve’s car. “Doesn’t matter,” he chirps, though it’s all fake, “at least I can play with them now, which is awesome.”

But before he can stride away, to where his bike is parked and locked up, Steve snakes a hand onto Lucas’s wrist. They lock eyes again. “I’ll talk to him,” Steve swears, “he’ll apologize.”

“Steve, you don’t—“

“You used sports as a means to fit in, right? Granted, popularity’s not all that cool and you know that especially now. But it was a…a—“ He snaps his fingers, searching for the word. “—A cover, something to find security in. And you had that. And that’s what the D&D game is to Eddie. Sports is my D&D, too.” He loosens his grip on Lucas’s arm. Neither make any sort of move. “Just because you were trying to find your people doesn’t mean you can be…” He chooses his next words carefully. “Ostracized or outcast by those who you found safety with before. Especially when those guys orbit around each other for the same reason. I’ll talk to him,” he urges, “and he will apologize, or else.”

Lucas gives him a softened look. “Thanks, Steve,” he mutters, “I wasn’t looking to start anything, but I appreciate you having my back. It really means a lot.” And then he shuffles away, towards his bicycle, small chat starting up with Mike and Dustin.

When Steve turns back towards the school, Eddie is sauntering towards him. Eyes wide. Smile big and easy. Yet, his soft features are all too nauseating to Steve’s chest right now. His heart aches. If Eddie thinks of Lucas’s interests that way, what does he think of mine?

He tamps down his annoyance and anger. Because Eddie takes his hand and is looking at him as if the world belongs to the two of them. But that hurt on Lucas’s face is like a dagger impaled in his brain when Eddie greets nice and low, “Hi, baby. Been thinking about you the entire time I was in there.”

Steve smiles, though it may come off as more of a grimace with how Eddie falters. “Been thinking about you, too,” he echoes. Though, thinking positively isn’t what he’s been doing, as far as anybody’s concerned. Beat around the bush, he tells himself. He takes a steadying breath, posture straightening, demeanor changing. Says with a sour tone, “I, uh, I think we need to have a little talk in the car, if that’s okay? It’s not a breakup thing, but it might make you…somebody might get mad and I don’t want to cage you in at my house.”

“Oh,” Eddie breathes. His eyes go distant very briefly. When he refocuses on Steve, something has hardened in his features. Steve’s throat goes tight. “It can’t wait until after our date night?” There’s a low amount of ire in his words already and Steve is momentarily caught in it. Until he lets his eyebrows scrunch down his face again, giving in to that tightness in his throat.

He sighs, annoyed already. “No, Eddie,” he bites without meaning to. “I need to talk to you now. I’m already upset about it and it’s not going to do me any good to just brush it off.” His hand releases from Eddie’s grip, falling heavy against his side. He turns towards his driver’s side door and stares back at where Eddie is rooted. “Come on,” he states lowly, “you were the one to tell me to talk about the shit that’s bothering me. Can’t ignore it just because it has to do with you.”

Bitchy is probably not the best approach to all of this, but Steve is already cornered out of options. He pulls his door open with more force than necessary. Slides into his seat, key into the ignition, and honks once at Eddie. Jarringly gestures at the passenger seat. Thankfully, there’s nobody else to witness the potential torrential fire that’s brewing in him. It’ll be just the two of them; though that realization stirs something sickly in Steve’s stomach.

Eddie gets in silently. Places his school bag in the footwell. And keeps his face pointed out the windshield. “What’s wrong?” He asks, though his voice is devoid and edging on irritated.

Steve rolls his eyes, though Eddie can’t see him. He sets his hands firmly on his steering wheel. Squeezes the leather for comfort, an instinct. And heaves a sigh, urging himself to be calmer about this. “I had a talk with Lucas,” he starts. “About, uh, about his championship game back in March.”

Next to him, Eddie immediately tenses.

He continues without acknowledgement. Keeps himself as leveled as possible. “He told me that you refused to move your game for his. That he was looking forward to having his friends, which I’m assuming includes you, watch him play. And I—I know how important that championship game was to him. Y’know, it’s one of the bigger—“

“Are you mad because I didn’t want to sit at some jock event?” Eddie interrupts, question clipped. Though there’s also mild amusement in his tone, as if Steve being upset is poposterous. He continues without any regard for Steve. “In a room full of, mind you, people who hate me?”

Steve tenses more than Eddie had. His shoulders hiking and his stomach knotting impossibly more. Finally lets the dog bark, gives in to whatever it wants. “You know what, Eddie?” He bitches back. “I am mad at you. In fact, I…I…I’m so fucking angry that you…you make this whole deal about ‘lost sheep’ and herding them in to play your game. You concern yourself with making a community for people who are lost to the crowd of cliques in that school. And it’s just—Lucas is one of those kids! He is, even if that means he wants to play basketball!”

The passenger seat squeaks. Clothes rustling as Eddie turns toward him. But Steve doesn’t rip his eyes from the windshield. If anything, he leans more towards the left, creating a deeper, larger space between them. His hands instinctively tighten on the steering wheel again.

“Yeah, I do pride myself on that,” Eddie spits. “I do. Which is why, honestly, it irks me that Lucas would pick a crowd full of assholes. A bunch of people who would never give him the time of day.”

Steve goes rigid at that. He was an asshole, too. He knows that. Eddie especially knows that. The Munson Doctrine wouldn’t exist without the inclusion of asshole jocks, Steve being near the top of the list. He tries to tell himself that Eddie doesn’t think of him that way, but it’s hard considering himself. Who he used to be. Instead, he takes another breath, this one longer and hopefully more steadying than the other ones have been.

“He went out for basketball for a sense of security,” Steve states slowly, verging on impatient. “To find somewhere to belong to. That’s all a freshman looks for—a group to be somebody with. And, you know, considering that he’s already sort of singled out for being one of a few black kids at the school…Belonging is kind of important to him.” He settles back into his seat, arms still stretched to their full length in front of him. His stomach is turning and his heart is racing. And why won’t Eddie just get this? “Even if the basketball team has a bunch of assholes, he still wanted to do it. He was celebrated for his skills, who he is—even if it was for a moment. Playing was, and probably still is, important to him. And you—“ Steve finally turns his head towards Eddie. Knows his eyes are shooting daggers, can see where they lodge themselves between Eddie’s ribs. He raises a finger and accuses, “—you made his game feel unimportant. None of his best friends came because they were toopreoccupied with your game.” His face grows unusually hot as his voice drags passionately. The words just tumbling, splattering between them. But he carries on like a fire fed, “They even got his little sister to play yourgame. And, you know what really hurt to hear? Lucas wanted at least Erica to watch. And she wasn’t there. She wasn’t there because of your game, Eddie. How do you think that looks to him?”

Eddie has the audacity to look cowed, appalled. His mouth agape and his eyes as two large craters on his face. And for the first time, probably ever, he is stunned into silence.

Steve looks away. Bitter. All that festers in him now is hurt, ache, sadness. He chews on his lip, inhales softly through his nose, and opens his mouth with a silent word. Finally, he murmurs, “When I came to the high school as a freshman, I did the exact same thing as Lucas did. I joined the basketball team. Not because I was good. Or because my dad forced me to, like everybody seems to think. It’s because I wanted to fit in.”

His eyes are stinging. Cheeks flushing even more with overwhelming, consuming emotion. Continues, “And, though I let the feeling eat away at me, it felt good to be protected by a camaraderie like that. Outside of the nerdy friend group I had in middle school, going into high school. It felt good. And—It’s not the same as why Lucas joined, I know that, but I can understand.

“On top of that, I never had friends or family members show up for me at my games. So, for me to know the hurt Lucas feels, that would be an understatement. What’s important to note, though, is that he had people in his life to be there for him and they didn’t show. They didn’t.”

The fight is draining out of him, but he has to solidify his point. Has to finish this or else. Thinks briefly that maybe he should quit while he’s ahead, but he can’t make himself do that. The ferocity engulfing him from the inside out all too much to ignore. He’s been beaten down before for Lucas, literally—oh so literally—but he’d do it again and again and again for that kid to find his footing. Including this…spat? One sided argument? This argument with his boyfriend.

“Even I was there,” he says, hollowly, “cheering him on. It just would’ve been nice, for him, to have more than just some washed up, ex-jock, nobody be there. Right? I’m sure you get where I’m coming from. You can understand what I’m saying.” He glances forlorn out his window. Can’t even muster the courage to look over at Eddie. He’s basically drained himself. Being vulnerable isn’t his forte, but he can be for the people around him. Even if it’s at the expense of his own well being. “Well, I thought you’d understand. Wanting to have a community, people to lean on, to make something of yourself. No matter the means. I just didn’t think you’d be part of the reason that Lucas feels so…so singular.”

He takes a deep breath, ignoring how nasally it is to his ears. And mutters, a final thing, “I didn’t think you viewed something that Lucas and I are into as so…nothing. I try my best to be better about what you like, but it seems that you don’t make that same effort. That’s not fair, Eddie. You should know that.”

Without much else to say and with Eddie’s eerie silence, he starts the car. Puts it into drive. And peels away into the silence of the long and stretching road.

Briefly, he thinks about turning on the radio or cranking down the window, but the air is too thick to move through. Even the slight turns of his steering wheel is enough to make him feel sick. He’s sick with how disgustingly to-the-point he had to be. Though, there’s no other way that Eddie would’ve listened. Not with how defensive he immediately got.

The original date night plan had been to go to his house, but he finds himself pulling into Forest Hills’ driveway. Past the dimly lit trailers and the striking quietness of Max’s home. He parks in the vacant spot next to Eddie’s van. Which, the van is broken down right now—the main reason Steve is even driving Eddie around. But, now what? Is Eddie mad at how mad Steve was? Is he going to realize that he doesn’t like Steve because of his interests, who he is? Is this it?

A gentle anxious thrum runs through Steve like the very blood he needs to exist.

He silences the car. And just sits with his hands in his lap. Looking blankly at Eddie’s front door.

“Your stop,” Steve murmurs.

Eddie takes a deep breath and sighs heavily through his nose. But he doesn’t make a move to open his door. To step out. To walk away from…all that Steve is and has been.

Steve turns to him, gestures loosely at the Munson’s. “Your stop,” he reiterates.

“I—“ Eddie musters, voice croaking and rough. “I didn’t realize that…I didn’t know Lucas was mad about that. I didn’t think it…mattered.”

“Of course you didn’t,” Steve bitterly states, “It’s not like you actually cared.”

“But I do,” Eddie insists, “I care so much about Lucas. And I care so much about you. I swear!” He finally moves, tossing himself in the seat to face Steve, flailing. His face a mournful thing, downturned and sad. Skin pale and his hands desperate and his voice urgent. “There’s no excuse, I know. But I just…The reason I look at jocks so awfully is because they’ve always turned on me, you know? They always downplay my interests and mock me and tease me for what I like. Which is why I have to show myself as the bigger guy, that I can take it. I just didn’t realize that I was doing it, too.”

Slowly, Steve crosses his arms over his chest. Fingers tightening over his biceps. “Real life and your friends are more important than biases, Eddie.”

“I see that now.”

“And I think that you…you love me? And that you like Lucas. But it’s just hard to feel that, for either of us, when you adamantly refuse to involve yourself in our interests. Even if it means attending some jock event. Even if it means sitting in a room full of people that hate you. Which, by the way, that isn’t true because Lucas and I both like you—I love you, even.” He faces Eddie again. His face a sure thing of great ache, based on Eddie’s own crestfallen eyes. “Maybe just…give us space for a couple days? Think about this. Apologize once you’ve given it some thought. I understand where the whole hating jocks thing comes from, but just think about how that hurts, too.”

Eddie takes a gasping breath. “But I’m sorry now, Stevie,” he swears, “I am. I’m so sorry.”

There’s part of those words that soothe Steve like aloe to a sunburn, but he can’t accept them. Knows that the sure sting of the burn will still be there if he lets Eddie do this now. So he collects himself, mulls the words, and defends himself—for once. “I’ll accept that when it doesn’t feel like you’re saying it just to make me feel better. I want you to mean it. And I want you to apologize to Lucas first.”

He watches Eddie nod fervently, sharply. His hands twisting together in his lap and his eyes wetting, shoved harshly to the side. “Yeah, okay,” his voice trembles, “okay, I’ll fix this.”

Carefully, Steve takes Eddie’s hands. Tugs them until Eddie looks at him. Involuntarily, he makes a soft, sympathetic noise. It’s clear in the wetness of Eddie’s eyes that he’s determined to change this, to make this better. It’s clear that he didn’t mean to hurt this severely. He presses deep into the back of Eddie’s hands, tethering himself down to the earth, away from the cloud of anger that threatens to swallow him whole.

“Hey,” he murmurs, “listen to me, baby. I know that you’re sorry. I know, okay? But Lucas won’t know that, he’ll probably think you’re saying it to get on his good side. And…maybe you are, a bit, but it’ll be better if you really mean it. Trust me.” He swipes his thumbs over Eddie’s knuckles, massages them to ease the tension. “I still love you. I’m still learning, too, to love your interests with my full heart. And I know that it’s hard to let go of stupid biases, but you’ll be better for it. You will, Eds, and you’ll find you actually feel good.” Steve runs his hands up Eddie’s arms, to his shoulders, the sides of his neck.

Gently, he cups Eddie’s face between his hands. Presses his thumbs underneath Eddie’s eyes.

Eddie softens, loosening. Breathes slowly onto Steve’s wrists. “I’ll make this right, Steve,” he promises quietly, “I want to love both of you guys right.”

“I believe you,” he whispers in turn, “you’re a good guy, Eddie. You’ve got a good soul and a good heart. But you just need to relearn some things, baby.” He leans in, softly pecks the soft tissue of Eddie’s facial scar, and pulls away. Reaches up and runs a hand through the wiry ends of Eddie’s curls. Finds that he does mean the softness in his words, even with the bitter edge in his chest. He murmurs, “Let’s cool off tonight, because I know we’re both upset. And we’ll reconvene in a couple days, after my shift. I’ll help you come up with a good apology, promise.”

“Okay,” Eddie mutters, sniffling.

“I love you,” he feels the need to remind.

“I love you, too, Stevie. And I mean that. I really do.”

🏀—————🏀

Taglist (Open For Chapter Two): @wonderland-girl143-blog @tinyplanet95 @sharingisntkaren @ghostquer @practicallybegging @croatoan-like-its-hot @reinedslys-central

#stranger things #Steve Harrington & Lucas Sinclair #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #lucas sinclair #angst and hurt/comfort #Eddie Munson & Lucas Sinclair

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leeloooonfire · 1 year

Text

When Eddie tells Dustin he's staying in a penthouse in San Francisco for the next 5 months to work on his next studio album, Dustin asks, "Have you ever been to the EndUp, Uranus, Junk or Osmosis?"

At first, Eddie doesn't really know what to say. He KNOWS the queer party scene in almost every major city in the western hemisphere, but Dustin?!

When he answers truthfully, "Not in the last eight months", Dustin only clicks his tongue and says, "Good."

And with that he starts talking about the DnD club, about that new girl in town and about how his mother has the hots for good ol' uncle Wayne.

If Eddie was a different person, he'd forget about it and also wonder how Mrs Henderson and Wayne actually happened.

But he's not.

Dustin mentioning the clubs is so random and so out of topic that Eddie's brain can't help but latch onto it.

At first, he only wonders why Dustin knows about the queer party scene of San Francisco and how he got to know about it. Was ist Robin?

Probably, with her living in San for the last few years, but that still doesn't explain why she told Dustin about the clubs.

Then, Eddie can't help but wonder why Dustin simply said 'Good' before changing the topic as if he never asked the question in the first place.

Why Good?

Sure, there's still the fear of Aids when going out, but its not as bad as in the early 80s.

His community - they got it now.

So, Eddie is almost sure that's not it.

At first, he tells himself he'll leave it alone - maybe only ask Dustin about it the next time they see each other. However, when he meets up with a friend at the Eagle for some drinks and a chat about music and his friends new love, he can wonders what he might find at any of the bars and clubs Dustin mentioned.

So, obviously, Eddie goes. Between sleepless nights off from writing and talking to his friends or manager on the phone, Eddie visits the scene in San Fran.

He goes dancing, grabs some drinks and even once hops into one of the dark rooms and gets a blowie from some random guy called Tex.

It's good, it's fun - but Eddie still doesn't understand why Dustin asked - until he sees him in club Uranus.

Or her.

Or, well... Stevie Devine.

Stevie Devine wears golden heels and lipsstick so dark it's almost black.

She has brown eyes like a baby deer, long brown hair and a black dress that twinkles with every move.

She laughs and sings while playing the piano and Eddie knows her.

Eddie and Steve talk on the phone about 5 times a year: for both theirs and Dustin's birthday, Christmas and the Upside Down anniversary, but the last time Eddie really saw Steve was in 1987.

It was for Robin's birthday when they all meet up before Eddie vanished on a tour through Europe with his band.

It was when they all thought they'd stay in contact more and life wasn't too demanding then.

Last time Eddie saw Steve, he had a purple eye and busted lips that closed around their shared joint they smoked right behind Buckley's garden shed.

But the Steve behind that shed in 1987 and Stevie Devine on that dimly lite stage in a queer club in San Francisco have absolutely nothing in common. The more Eddie stares at the tall, beautiful drag queen, the more he is sure that they simply cannot be the same person, right?!

But Stevie sees him, and after her show, she comes up to him and asks in a smokey voice, "Why are you here?!"

Eddie tells her - tells her about him staying in town to produce another album, to write and compose music, and that obviously, he -as a gay man- is allowed to visit all the bars.

"No. I mean, why are you here?!" Stevie asks, fingernails clicking against the table, and Eddie shrugs, blinks a few times, and then says, "Dustin mentioned something."

With that Stevie huffs, rolls her eyes and tells him to wait outside.

Eddie nods, but can't help but watch Stevie go, hips swinging, long legs striding through the room to vanish through a door to the back of the club.

Of course, Eddie waits outside, always eager to do what a beautiful person wants him to do.

He stands there, hands in his pocket, then in his hair, then rolling a cigarette before lightening it only to have something to do with his hands.

When the door opens about 20 minutes later its not Stevie Devine, but Steve Harrington with smudges of make-up on his face and a bag filled with golden heels, a black sequin dress and very long, but very fake brown hair.

"Knew I shouldn't have told Dustin," Steve says once he joins Eddie beside the club, reaching for Eddie's cigarette. His hand is broad and looks like it can hold a nail bat and smash interdimensional monsters to pulp, but he also has long nails and a simple silver ring around his wrist that makes it look almost dainty.

"He didn't really say anything, just asked me if I had been to any of the major queer clubs in the city. It got me interested," Eddie tells him honestly and lights another cigarette, unsure if Steve really would like to share. "Didn't expect to find you here."

There's a blush on Steve's face and his hand flits to his neck to brush some of his natural (also quite long) hair behind his ear before saying, "It's... a somewhat new thing."

"Somewhat?" Eddie asks, trying not to stare onto Steve's lips where he can still find traces of glitter and dark red paint.

Steve shrugs, laughs awkwardly and says, "You know how it is."

Eddie nods, yeah, he knows. Or at least, he can imagine what Steve means. So, he says, "You looked good on that stage."

Steve laughs and it almost sounds like his Drag Queen persona had sounded in the club: dark and sensual and somewhat forbidden.

"Thank you, you do look good on stage as well," Steve replies, flicks the burned down cigarette away and sends Eddie a blinding smile.

"You've been to one of my concerts?"

"Once or twice," Steve says, moves from one foot to the other. His feet must hurt after wearing the heels for the last few hours.

Eddie holds out his arm like a gentleman from the 18th, "Wanna grab a drink?"

"I would love to, but Robin and I always meet up after shows for milkshakes and fries, you're in?" Steve leans on him, long fingers gently curled around Eddie's arm.

"I would love to." Eddie repeats the words and follows Steve into the night..

#steddie #eddie munson #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie stranger things #fanfiction #dustin henderson #robin buckley #somwhat friends to lovers #drag queen #accurate places in san Francisco

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