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#STWG daily prompts
medusapelagia · 16 days
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Sea Storm
written for @steddiemicrofic (prompt: Top, wc: 510) and STWG Daily Drabble (prompt: Mermay) rated: T TW: no one
When Eddie asked the wizard of the sea to transform him into a human he thought he knew what he was asking for. In reality, he didn't.
He exchanged his voice for a pair of legs, renounced seeing his uncle Wayne anymore and now he can’t touch the water if he doesn’t want to be turned back in a merman. Still, the man who he did all of this for isn’t considering him.
Yeah, Steve took him to his castle, fed him, but that’s all.
Every time Eddie tries to spend some time with him, someone drags him away. And it would almost be funny if it wasn’t for the fact that Eddie needs a kiss: the sea wizard gave him three days, and two of them are already gone. 
If only Eddie had his voice, he could talk to Steve, telling him it was him who saved him from the storm weeks ago. But he can’t. So he sighs, sitting on a rock, waving at the two boys that are playing on the beach. At Eddie’s side, hidden between the rocks, his crab friend reminds him that making a pact with a sea wizard it's dangerous.
As if Eddie had ever had any other chance.
Steve kneels on the ground and grabs a few colored pieces of glass that shine in his hand when he turns toward Eddie to show him his treasure. 
The sad smile Eddie gives him it’s not enough, so Steve steps closer to Eddie asking him what’s wrong.
At that moment big black clouds appear from nowhere and the waves start to get bigger and bigger. 
Steve turns toward Dustin, who is on top of a big rock, just a moment before a huge wave crashes and drags him away.
Steve yells, running toward the rocks, and jumps in the water, screaming his brother’s name. 
From the shore, Eddie freezes. His eyes wide with terror while the waves get bigger and bigger. He glares at the waves’ white foam and then steps into the water.
“Go back to the shore!” He orders Steve when he gets to him, ignoring his questions about his magically regained voice, “I’ll find the kid. I promise.” He assures him, and then he dives into the water splashing Steve with his red tail. 
Eddie finds Dustin unconscious and brings him back to the surface where Steve is still waiting for them. He takes his brother out of the water and starts to breathe into his mouth until the boy wakes up coughing. 
Once Steve is sure that Dustin is ok, he turns toward Eddie who is hiding behind a rock.
“You talk!” He exclaims, and Eddie nods quietly, “Good. Because you have to explain so many things to me.”
“Aren’t you horrified?” Eddie asks, hiding half of his body behind the rocks.
“Horrified at the person who saved both me and my brother? No. I’m grateful. And maybe even a little bit in love.” Steve declares, stepping in the water before cupping Eddie’s face and kissing him under the rain.
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eyesofshinigami · 1 month
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Proper Motivation
Rating: M
Tags: Established relationship, can be read as gender-swap or trans!Steve, spicy content
Written for the STWG prompt motivation:
"But I don't want to do my exercises. It hurts and it makes me hot and sweaty and not even in a fun way," Eddie whines, draping himself over the treadmill dramatically. "It sucks and I hate it."
This had been a near daily fight since Eddie had gotten out of the hospital. Despite the doctors insistence that the walking would help him regain the strength in his legs, Eddie was having none of it. He would whine and fuss and kick his feet like a toddler having a tantrum. Stevie is at her wit's end. She knew her boyfriend hated exercising but this was getting ridiculous.
"Baby, I know, but you need to do it so you can get your strength back. It's only for six weeks, and if you show improvement, you may not have to anymore," she tries, pitching her voice a little higher. It was like dealing with a child.
Which... maybe that was part of the problem. Maybe she was coming at this from the wrong angle. Time to switch tactics.
"Tell you want..." she purrs, which suddenly makes Eddie sit up straighter from where he was still lamenting on the treadmill. "For every hundred steps you do, I'll take off a piece of clothing. And once I'm naked, if you finish your allotted... I'll let you do whatever you want to me. How's that for motivation?"
"Anything?" Eddie asks eagerly. He gets to his feet and starts fiddling with the buttons on the treadmill.
"Anything we've done or already discussed."
Eddie's face goes a little pink. "Even the thing with your tongue?"
Stevie nods, delighted. "Even the thing with my tongue. Maybe I'll even ride you after, since you'll be so tired from being such a good boy."
Eddie gulps and she can hear the treadmill whir to life. He starts walking , shaky as he is, but now he's got a determined look on his face.
She can't not reward such good behavior. She pulls her t-shirt tight over her chest, her tits and the outline of her nipples practically visible through the thin material. It draws Eddie's attention down and she giggles when his eyes go wide watching her tits bounce. "Just a sneak peek," she teases.
Eddie keeps staring, mindlessly walking and following every single movement of her tits and hips.
She should have done this ages ago. "Keep it up, baby," she coos. Stevie thumbs at the hem of her shirt, pulling it up to reveal the tanned expanse of her stomach and the tiny little panties she's wearing, the one Eddie really likes to take off with his teeth. "Almost there."
Eddie moans, his steps faster, the tent forming in his sweats getting more and more visible.
Stevie just grins.
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steventhusiast · 6 months
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STWG daily prompt 3/12/23
prompt: "what the hell happened to you?"
pairing/character(s): steddie
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Eddie hasn't heard from Steve for forty eight hours when the phone rings, and he jumps for it. He hopes (and maybe prays to the god he doesn't believe in) that it's Steve. That he just... Fell asleep when he got home from his shift at Scoops and that's why he didn't call when he got home two days ago. That he got distracted by the kids the next morning and that's why he didn't call Eddie one day ago.
"Hello?" He says into the phone, trying not to sound too frantic.
But as soon as he finds out who's calling, a rock settles in his stomach.
"This is Hawkins General Hospital, am I speaking with Wayne Munson?"
He's silent for a moment. Fuck. Something's happened to Steve. He debates lying, because Wayne left for work literally five minutes ago, and he needs to know what happened, and what if Steve's dead?-
"No. This is Eddie Munson, ma'am, Wayne just left for work. Is- Is everything okay?" He closes his eyes as he speaks, tips his head forward to lightly bang it against the wall of the trailer. Why didn't he just lie? Now they're never going to tell him.
"Alright, one moment.." The lady on the phone says, and Eddie hears some papers rustling and then a sigh, "Oh, Edward Munson?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"You're listed as another emergency contact, so I can tell you this as well." Eddie breathes out a sigh of relief, but feels tears start to well up as he imagines what she's about to say.
"This is in regards to Steven Harrington, who is alive and stable but quite badly injured. That's all I can say over the phone. Before he can be discharged, if his next of kin don't respond, we'll need to talk through patient care with you or Wayne Munson, alright?"
"Yes I- He can have visitors, right?" He's already looking frantically around the room to see where the keys to his van are.
"Yes. Visiting hours don't end for another two hours yet."
Eddie's never hung up a phone so fast.
-
When he finally gets to Steve's room (after an argument with the receptionist who was hesitant to give him the room number), he practically throws open the door in his haste, and is... Surprised at the amount of people in the room.
He's zeroed in on Steve before he properly registers them though. As soon as he processes the state of his boyfriend, everyone else in the room practically disappear from his mind.
"Oh, Stevie." He whispers, walking over to the bed.
Steve seems to be either asleep or passed out, and he looks.. Horrible. One eye is swollen shut, there's a bandage over his nose like it's broken, and his bottom lip is swollen with a (freshly stitched up) wound trailing down from it an inch or so. And that's just his face-- Eddie can't even see the rest of him right now.
"What the hell happened to you?" He mumbles to himself, hesitantly reaching out to rest a hand on Steve's forearm.
It's then that he's rudely reminded of the presence of others in the room.
"More like what the hell is Eddie Munson doing in Steve Harrington's hospital room?" A familiar voice asks, and he turns to see Robin Buckley sat at Steve's side. A little more turning around and he sees Dustin, who he recognises from pictures, and a little girl who can't be older than ten.
Robin looks confused and suspicious, and like she's about to interrogate him until she sees the genuine distress (and tears) in his eyes. She softens a little, and lets Eddie ask what he's been dying to ask for over forty eight hours now.
"Is he okay?" He sniffles harshly in attempt to get rid of the waver in his voice.
"He will be. Pretty bad concussion though, and- No, wait. Seriously, why are you here?"
Eddie's about to make something up, when Steve rouses with a groan. Everyone's quiet as he squints open his good eye and groans some more at the lights.
"Wha's- Wha's goin' on?" He slurs, and Eddie feels the tears return. Steve sounds as fucked up as he looks, and- shit, Robin said concussion? Steve's already had one too many of those.
"Hey, it's okay Stevie. You know where you are?" Eddie asks gently, opting to ignore everyone else once again if they're going to stay quiet.
"Eds?" Steve's face scrunches up in a way that looks painful, and he slowly looks over in Eddie's direction with eyes that are definitely too dilated.
Eddie starts rubbing his thumb back and forth where he's still gently resting a hand on Steve's forearm. He hopes it's comforting rather than adding to Steve's pain.
"Yeah, I'm here. I got you, sweetheart."
read part 2 here
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steddiejudas · 6 months
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STWG Daily Drabble 11/29/23
prompt: modern au
Eddie is harshly woken by his phone ringing at— JESUS christ, 4:30 AM.
The number isn’t saved in his contacts, and normally he would just let it ring or hang up the call so he could go back to sleep, but his brain is a little fried so early in the morning so he answers it like a reflex.
“Hello?” he asks. He can hear the sleep in his own voice and hopes to god this call isn’t something important that his slow, rough voice will make him look bad for.
“Robin!!”
A very loud, very drunk voice screams the name Eddie doesn’t recognize into the line. He lacks the wherewithal to really sus out what’s happening, so he summons every ounce of intelligence to the best of his ability to mutter: “huh?”
“Robbie I’m so drunk and my phone died. The bartender let me use his to call you. come pick me up.”
The guy is whining directly into Eddie’s ear. it should be annoying, should be grating to his sleep-addled brain, but he can’t help but think he sounds cute.
“Uh, hey man, this isn’t Robin. I think you got the wrong number,” Eddie says.
The guy on the other end of the line goes silent, and Eddie imagines he’s pouting over there, probably too drunk to remember he needs to speak into the phone.
“Hey,” he says. “You okay? Are you going to be able to call this Robin person?”
“I did,” the guy whines again. “You’re not Robin.”
“No, I definitely am not. I’m Eddie. And who are you?”
“I’m Steve. Will you please come pick me up?”
He considers this, chuckling lightly to himself. This Steve sure is trusting. Eddie could be a murderer just waiting for a cute boy like Steve to call him up, and he says as much, but apparently all Steve hears is:
“You think I'm cute? Wait, how can you tell? Are you in the walls or something?”
Is he in the walls? Jesus this guy really is ass blasted, huh. And Eddie can’t leave a fellow bad late night decision maker to fend for himself, can he?
“You sound cute enough sweetheart. sit tight, I'll be there in 15 minutes.”
“mmkay!” Steve sounds purely elated to have Eddie on the way, and hangs up before he has the chance to confirm where he is. It’s no matter really, there’s only one bar in the area that’s open this late, and it seems the bartender picked up on that lacking piece of information as his phone pings with a location pin a minute later.
It’s one of Eddie’s usual haunts so he gets there in 10, familiar with the route and aided by the complete lack of traffic at this hour.
He wonders if in the last 10 minutes Steve has forgotten all about him. He is just a stranger he drunk dialed after all, and Steve’s so far gone his short term memory must be nothing at this point.
But when he pulls up and enters the building, he sees the most beautiful face he’s ever seen alone at the bar. He hopes to any god that will listen that Steve at least remembers his enthusiasm about getting home so he can see the way that elation shows on his handsome features. The bartender who’s been babysitting, and appears to be forcing him to drink water, points to the door and Steve turns around, his face alighting with all the brilliance of precious gemstones.
“Eddie!” He shouts, throwing himself off the stool to stumble over to him. He nearly falls to the ground, but Eddie is there to hold him up.
Their faces are inches apart, and Eddie can’t help but notice the way his drunkenness flushes his cheeks, giving the scattering of moles across his cheeks a beautiful backdrop.
“Hey pretty boy. Let’s get you home, okay? Where do you live?”
“With Robin,” Steve says, his face betraying the fact that he really thinks that’s the answer Eddie needs.
“Mhm,” Eddie patiently hums. “And where does Robin live?”
“With me, silly.”
“Oh boy, you’re really out of it. Why don’t I take you back to my place, get some food in you, charge up your phone, and we’ll go from there.”
“Is food the only thing I'll get in me?” Steve asks, pressing in closer to Eddie’s grasp.
It startles a laugh out of him. One that starts deep in his chest and rolls through his body, throwing his head back and shaking his shoulders.
“Steve, you barely know me. You’re just lucky I happen to be a very nice, very respectful guy, who is going to
feed you and nothing. else.”
Steve pouts a little as Eddie puts an arm around his waist and pulls him out to the car, loading him in the passenger seat and buckling him in.
It seems Steve has zoned out on the ride, either lulled by the movements or, god forbid, incredibly carsick. Either way he sits in silence with his face pressed against the cool glass while Eddie lets him be alone with his thoughts for the short drive home.
Getting up the stairs to Eddie’s apartment is a challenge. It’s like Steve is doing his absolute best to go ass over tea kettle down them. Eddie braces himself behind him, hands on his waist to keep him steady, trying his absolute darndest to ignore the lines of hard muscle under his sweater.
Now is NOT the time.
They make it inside with little incident, Eddie plopping Steve down on the couch to disappear into the kitchen after fishing Steve’s phone out of his pocket and plugging it in next to him.
“So, I’m not much of a cook,” Eddie hollers. “But how do you feel about grilled cheese?”
No answer comes.
“Steve?”
Nothing.
Eddie peeks out of the kitchen to find a snoring Steve, sprawled out on the couch like a starfish. Somehow he’s even cuter like this. It brings a fond smile to Eddie’s face as he covers him in a blanket, tucks a pillow under his head and leaves a trash can by his side just in case.
It’s almost 5:30 now, and the exhaustion hits him all at once. Eddie gives the man sawing logs on his couch one last once over before going back to his own bed and crashing, hoping for at least another hour or two of sleep.
When he wakes, it’s with an unexpected sense of excitement, expecting Steve to be on his couch ready to have a coherent conversation and a real introduction, but when he makes his way out to the living room, Steve is gone, his pillow stacked on top of the neatly folded blanket.
He shouldn’t be sad about this. Steve is, after all, just a stranger who was drunk and couldn’t even remember his own address. He was probably embarrassed, confused, hell maybe even scared to be waking up in a stranger’s house with vague memories of how he got there. He tries to focus on that aspect of the situation, rather than his own disappointment. He does not succeed.
Eddie sits down on the couch, in the very same spot Steve laid his head the night before and wraps himself up in the blanket. He buries his face in it, inhaling the faint scent Steve left on it and wonders why he even cares. It wasn’t as if they had some big whirlwind romance in the span of the hour they were together; but Steve was so sweet, so cute, so excited to see him after speaking on the phone for just a couple minutes. It wasn’t anything more than a random act of kindness, but maybe Eddie wanted it to be.
It’s as Eddie is thinking it over that his phone pings with a message. Eddie groans, it’s probably just Gareth, or maybe the bartender from last night checking that everyone is safe. Though even that is wishful thinking. He checks anyway, trying his best to tamp down any wishful thinking until he sees the unknown number on his screen with one simple word.
[463-291-8275]: Thanks.
Eddie feels a lump in his throat, his chest filling up like a balloon. He doesn’t know what to do, what to say, doesn’t even know if it is Steve, but shit he fucking hopes so.
[Eddie]: Steve? How did you get my number again?
[463-291-8275]: Uhhh… i definitely didn’t try like 10 variations of Robin’s phone number to find the one number i mistyped when i accidentally called you last night
Eddie frantically adds the number to his contacts before texting back, thanking whatever powers that be for giving him another shot.
[Eddie]: Wow I must have left quite the impression on you Stevie 😏
[Drunk Steve 🥵]: you could say that
Eddie smirks to himself, trying to ignore the blush that warms his face at Steve’s words. He tries to come up with what to say next, how to segue into asking him out on a date, but before he can, his phone buzzes with more messages from Steve.
[Drunk Steve 🥵]: so i know this might seem a little strange since we barely talked before i passed out in a drunk heap on your couch
[Drunk Steve 🥵]: thanks for not killing me btw
[Drunk Steve 🥵]: but um would you maybe want to hang out sometime?
Eddie jumps up from the couch, pumping his fist in the air like he just won the lottery. then, like he’s just remembering he lives alone, he yells at no one in particular: “FUCK! YES!” There’s an angry knock on the wall from his neighbor, but he doesn’t care in the slightest.
[Eddie]: idk about that Stevie
He goes to reply in his typical teasing fashion, but Steve’s reply comes in immediately before he can finish the thought.
[Drunk Steve 🥵]: oh
[Drunk Steve 🥵]: i totally get it
[Drunk Steve 🥵]: last night was probably weird for you
[Drunk Steve 🥵]: feel free to block my number i’m so sorry
[Eddie]: Woah, slow your roll there big boy!
[Eddie]: I said I'm not so sure about hanging out with you.
[Eddie]: But only because I’d rather take you out on a date
[Drunk Steve 🥵]: oh
[Drunk Steve 🥵]: Oh!
[Drunk Steve 🥵]: date! yes! date is good
[Drunk Steve 🥵]: i’d love to go on a date!
[Drunk Steve 🥵]: better even
[Drunk Steve 🥵]: i was fighting demons trying not to kiss you in the car last night
Eddie has to set his phone down so he doesn’t throw it to the ground and shatter it, opting instead to fist his hands in the pillow Steve used last night and shove it in his face to scream. He has to regain his composure before he texts back, doing his best to keep cool.
[Eddie]: A date it is then. Can’t wait sweetheart ❤️
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maxinemaxmayfield · 6 months
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For the STWG daily drabble prompt: modern au
“Steve… he wrote his number on the cup. Your cup. Of course it was meant for you,” Robin sighs, pointing this out for the third time in as many minutes. 
Steve glances back to the barista behind the counter. Their eyes meet and he whips his head back around so quickly she can hear his neck crack. Steve doesn’t see the toothy grin that spreads across the guy’s face after he looks away, or the way he tugs a dark curl across his face. 
“See? He’s looking over here. Just text him!”
“Shut up!” Steve hisses, leaning forward. “What would I even say?”
“Uh, ‘hey, it’s Steve, from the coffee shop’? Or, ‘you look sexy behind that espresso machine’? Or, ‘I want to cover you in chocolate-covered coffee beans and whipped cream and eat my way through to your di–’”
“Robin!” Steve yelps, sloshing some coffee onto the table between them, the edges of the puddle dripping off the edge and into his lap. She jumps up to get napkins, and luckily, that’s the end of that.
Steve doesn’t pull out his phone until later that evening, lounging in bed and staring at the ceiling, agonizing over which regret would be worse – doing it and getting rejected, or not doing it and never knowing. 
He takes a deep breath and taps in the number still burned into his mind, searching his brain for something to send.
That latte was hot, but not as hot as you…
DELETE.
Felt like there was something brewing between us earlier…
DELETE.  
I like my men how I like my coffee… keeping me up all night.
DELETE. 
“Oh my god,” Steve says out loud, groaning and rolling over to bury his face into the pillow. “I’m pathetic.”
“Is that so?” a familiar voice asks, crackly and quiet. The same voice who had called out, ‘latte for Steve’ earlier that very day.
He pushes himself upright, nearly drops his phone before he manages to flip it over and look at the screen. 
OUTGOING CALL - 00:42
He flinches, cursing every piece of technology ever invented as he brings the phone up to his ear. “Uh. Hi.”
“Hi.”
“I didn’t mean to call you, sorry. Meant to send a text, but…” Steve trails off, not even sure how to explain it. 
The barista huffs out a laugh. “And what did the text say?”
“Not important,” Steve says hurriedly. “Just saying hi.”
“Well then, hello to you, too. I’m Eddie, by the way.” 
“Steve.”
“I know – it was on your cup,” Eddie says, the hint of a grin in his voice. “So, Steve… next time you come down, I’d be happy to make you a drink on the house.”
And this, the back-and-forth, the flirty banter… this, Steve can do. “I’d rather come by when your shift is over… maybe go grab something a bit stronger than coffee?”
“Yeah? I’d like that.”
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momotonescreaming · 3 months
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STWG Daily Prompt: Date Night
“Does Thursday work?” Jeff asks, voice tinny and sort of muffled. Eddie can hear the sound of flipping pages, the creak of the plastic from the phone's speaker. 
“Shit, sorry dude.” Eddie says, looking at the loose pages of lined paper he's scribbled his schedule on. It works for him, and it's better than nothing. “That's date night.” 
A pause. For a moment, all Eddie can hear is the sound of Jeff breathing through the speaker. 
“Date night, huh?” Jeff eventually asks, and Eddie can hear the smarmy grin he's wearing. It's leaking into his voice, the absolute delight in it all. Just the right side of teasing, the bastard. He'd hate it, would snap and snarl and throw it all back if he wasn't also fucking delighted. 
He could say that now. He had a boyfriend, who holds his hands and kisses him and schedules date nights. He gets this. He gets to talk about it with his best friend. Can mention he has a date and doesn't have to hide the fact that it's with his boyfriend. He gets to share in the gentle ribbing for once. It's not just him on the outside looking in — as they tease Gareth for getting a date with a girl from his English class, or Jeff hitting his anniversary with his girlfriend. 
Eddie's been domesticated and he doesn't mind in the slightest. 
“Yes, it's date night,” Eddie retorts, trying to send as much faux malice down the phone as he can. He's smiling though, as he sits at the kitchen table, phone cord absently tangled through his fingers. “And Steve's been working hard planning it, so I will not be rescheduling.” 
“I didn't ask you to,” Jeff laughs, tone light. 
“Well good.” Eddie teases, wishing they were having this conversation in person so he could stick his tongue out. Really ham it up. 
Another pause, and Eddie uses the silence to flip through his papers, looking through all the events and dates and times he's scribbled out. Fuck, he really needs a calendar. 
“So?” Jeff prompts, drawing the word out. “Tell me about date night.” 
“You sound like your mother,” Eddie laughs, holding the phone in between his ear and his shoulder, pinning it there so he can free up his hands. So he can sort through his papers and fidget with the phone cord at the same time “Begging for gossip.” 
“You love my mother,” Jeff retorts — snappish — but it's obvious he's smiling. Laughing through it. “And you say that like you aren't gagging to talk about it. Come on.” 
“Okay fine,” Eddie relents. Sighing as he sinks into his chair, slouching, his socked feet skating across the floor. “You caught me.” 
“Not hard,” Jeff laughs. 
“Steve’s been talking a lot about wooing me lately,” Eddie starts, ignoring Jeff’s teasing. He finds himself smiling as he talks, creeping across his face uncontrollably. Fuck, the things Steve does to him. “As if he hasn’t wooed me already. So he’s planned this like, romantic dinner at home. Instead of going out to Enzo’s he wants to like, bring Enzo’s to us? Said he was going to treat me right. Have the fancy dinner I deserve, where we can play footsie under the table and hold hands without, y’know, worrying.”
By the end of his sentence Eddie’s feeling like he’s melting into his chair, insides melting into something soft and gooey. Pulling his hair across his face to hide his blush. Jeff can’t even see him, but he can’t help it. He wants to giggle and kick his feet. Jump and scream and flail around. It’s all building up inside him, this honey sweet affection. He doesn’t quite know what to do with it all. 
“He going to light candles? Have soft music playing in the background?” Jeff asks, teasing melting away into something softer. 
“Literally yes,” Eddie exclaims, dropping his hair and trying not to wiggle too much in his seat. “He’s so sweet, I’m going to throw up.”
“He’s good for you, man.” Jeff says simply, and it means a lot. That other people can see it — can know — just how happy Steve makes him. 
[Part Two]
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hbyrde36 · 2 months
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STWG Daily Prompt 3/9/24
Written for the @strangerthingswritersguild
Prompt: Bite
Rating: G | WC: 867
Emotional hurt/comfort, Steve Harrington's parents being the worst, the best uncle Wayne Munson, supportive boyfriend Eddie Munson, the party loves Steve Harrington
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Steve had given up on his dad long ago, he was never going to be the kind of man Richard Harrington had always wanted his sons to grow up and be, but he’d held out hope for his mom—hope that someday she would learn to love him the way she loved his brother.
More than ten years between them, and the fact that the Harrington’s had moved to Hawkins only after Christopher had graduated high school and gone off to college, meant no one really knew Steve had a sibling. 
The party, Robin, Eddie—especially Eddie because how could they have been dating for over a year now and him somehow still not know about this—were all stunned to learn of the existence of another young Harrington.
He hadn’t meant to tell them at all, but then Christopher and their parents made a surprise visit home so that his brother could take possession of their grandmother’s ring and pop the question to his girlfriend of a whopping 9 months. Less time than he and Eddie had been seeing each other and didn’t that get under Steve's skin to know he’d never get to propose to his boyfriend with a family heirloom, not only because gay marriage wasn’t legal, but because his parents would never dream of handing down a piece of jewelry to their least favorite son.  
Steve wound up having to make the rounds, letting everyone know movie night was canceled because his brother was in town. Naturally they all wanted explanations for why this was the first they were learning of this mysterious person, and by the time he got to Eddie’s place, Steve was a mess. 
Years of mistreatment and neglect bubbled to the surface, and not just the big things but the little sniping comments, the small injustices—inequities between the way Mr. and Mrs. Harrington spoke of their older son vs their younger—hurt feelings that he’d pushed all the way down in order to function, in order to put a fucking smile on his face and hide the fact that he was damaged goods who not even a mother could love. 
It all came spilling out of him on Eddie’s bedroom floor as his boyfriend held him, rocked him, was his rock, tethering him to the earth.
When it was all over and Steve was calm, Eddie asked him why he still spoke to them, why he still lived in their house when he and Wayne had both–on separate occasions–invited him to live with them instead.
“They’re my family.” Steve said, shrugging. “I don’t have a choice.” 
“Of course you do, Stevie. You always have a choice. If you were to decide right here and now that you never wanted to see or speak to them again, you are allowed to do that. You hold all the power here. I’ll support you in whatever you decide, but I have to say in my humble opinion, they never deserved you.”
Steve took the night to think about it, though in the instant Eddie had said the words, given Steve the power to take control of his own life, he’d known what he was going to do. It was his life, he could do with it as he wished. He was already doing that with almost every other part of it, so why was he still letting his mom and dad hold any power over him? Why did he subject himself to their passive aggressive comments and disappointed glares?
In the end he never went back, not even to get his stuff. Wayne and Eddie did it for him, leaving behind his keys and his beloved car. 
A small price to pay for freedom. 
He called the next day and left a final message on the answering machine. 
“Please leave your message after the beep.”
“Hey mom. You’re the hardest one to say goodbye to, the last member of this family I held out hope for so you’ll have to forgive me for not doing this in person. My car keys are on the table by the front door. I know the BMW is in dad’s name and I know he wouldn’t want me keeping it under the circumstances.”
“I am no longer a Harrington. I’m sure you won’t mind because you barely thought of me as one to begin with but it’s official now. I’m moving on, and moving in with my boyfriend. Yes, boyfriend, because I am nothing if not a consistent disappointment.”
“It took me longer to see it with you because I've witnessed the way you care for the people around you, most of them anyway, and what you’ve done for this community.”
“You are a good person, except when you’re not. And you were a great mom, just not to me.”
There was no bite in his words, just a sad truth finally spoken aloud.
Steve hung up the phone feeling lighter than he ever had in his whole life, and sat down to dinner with the people who really loved him. His found family, who’d all dropped whatever they were doing at a moments notice to throw him an impromptu moving-in party at his new home with Eddie and Wayne. 
Thanks to my beloved @penny00dreadful for having a look over this 🥰
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starryeyedjanai · 7 months
Text
STWG daily prompt: sleepover
-
“Why do you look so scared?” Steve asks, completely nonchalant, like the fact that it’s their first sleepover means nothing to him.
Eddie’s nervous. He doesn't want to do something that’ll turn Steve off.
He tells him the truth, says, “I feel like I’m gonna kick you in my sleep and you’re gonna wake up not wanting to date me anymore.”
Steve looks at him with a soft expression.
“That’s not gonna happen,” he says. “I’ve slept next to Robin who always elbows me in the ribs and she’s still my platonic soulmate.”
“You know what I mean,” Eddie says, pouting.
“I know. And I’m telling you that there’s nothing you could do that would make me not want to be with you,” he says, coming closer, putting his hands on Eddie’s waist.
Eddie sways forward, pressing his mouth against Steve's.
He pulls back to ask, “Even if I snore?”
“Even if you snore,” Steve says.
“Even if I accidentally push you off the bed?”
“If it’s an accident, yeah.”
“If it’s not an accident?” he asks, his lips tugging up into a smile.
“Then I’ll get you back when you’re least expecting it,” Steve says, pulling him closer again.
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dreamwatch · 8 months
Text
STWG daily drabble
prompt: forehead kisses
(I’m trying some prompts out, and also - I wrote fluff! I actually did it! My cold, angsty heart is conflicted by this development.)
****
Wayne’s back feels like it’s splitting in two, muscles spasming, discs crunching. Years of hard labour and a car wreck after he came back from Korea (a little bit angry, a little bit reckless) and what else could he really expect? He was old, and all his chickens had come home to roost right in his lower vertebrae.
He hears the van before he sees it, wheels spitting up grit on the shitty excuse for a road, and then the bassy rumbling of loud music. Iron Maiden, if he’s not mistaken, and Jesus H Christ, he should not know that.
Eddie throws himself out of the van, and practically skips up the stairs, and oh to be fucking young. 
“Hey old man, what are you doing out here?”
“Drowning my sorrows,” he says, waving the beer and Eddie frowns, tilts his head.
“Why, what’s going on?”
“Just my back.”
“Bad?”
“Hmm.”
“Okay, give me a second.”
“Eddie, I’m fine, got a beer, I’m good.”
Eddie scoffs, “sure”, before he heads inside.
Trailers aren’t sound proofed. Every cough, every fart, your neighbour hears it and you hear them. So listening to Eddie on the phone just the other side of the door isn’t prying, it just can’t be helped.
“Hey man… yeah I’m good but Wayne’s not so I can’t make practice tonight… no, it’s his back so I want to be here incase he needs me…”
Wayne shakes his head. The shit people say about that kid, they have no idea who he is. He listens as Eddie hangs up then potters around the kitchen, drawers clattering, kettle screeching. His boy is so many things, but quiet sure isn’t one of them.
“Heads up, old man.”
Eddie takes a seat beside him on the porch, painkillers in one hand, glass of water in the other and a hot water bottle tucked under his arm. Wayne smiles, takes his pills while Eddie places the hot water bottle behind his back.
“That okay?”
And he can’t help it, but it strikes him how fucking proud he is of this kid, and alright, it’s a little thing, but still. He hears it all day long from the guys at work, complaining about their kids, how they’re selfish, how they don’t listen, and you know Eddie’s not an angel, and he’s not perfect, but he’s good, and he cares and he’s not afraid to show it if you let him.
Wayne gingerly raises his arm and pulls him in, hears him squeal “don’t kiss me!” He pulls him close, and lays an exaggerated kiss on Eddie’s forehead, and gets a “not in public, Jesus Christ,” for his efforts.
“You’re a good kid.”
“I know. You’re lucky to have me.”
He laughs, despite the pain in his back.
“That I am,” he says, squeezing his boy tight. “That I am.”
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withacapitalp · 4 months
Text
Hurricane Joy
Written for the STWG Daily Prompt "applesauce". This is just a little snippet of a universe where Steve's parents left him with a little half sister, and he and Eddie are dancing around some feelingsssss
----------------
“Joy, I’ll pay you five bucks to eat. You want five bucks? You can do so many things with five bucks!” 
“Careful there, Harrington. Don’t all those parenting books say bargaining with children develops bad habits?” Eddie asked as he entered the kitchen, finding Steve sitting in front of Joy with applesauce absolutely covering both of their faces. 
“They’ve never had to take on Hurricane Joy and the applesauce of doom,” Steve groaned, pouting in Eddie’s direction as he walked further into the room, pausing to pat Steve on the back as he approached the two. 
“So how is our baby bean today?” Eddie asked, pressing an exaggerated kiss to the top of Joy’s head and listening to her squeal in glee as he did. 
Sure, she had been named after Joyce, but a part of Eddie was honestly convinced that Joy had heard her name once and then made it her mission to live up to it every single second of the day. Even her epic meltdown moments ended up being funny to watch. 
“Well she’s happy as a clam, but breakfast has taken,” Steve paused to look at his watch, sighing and shaking his head when he saw the time, “Over an hour. Applesauce is my enemy, Eds, I swear to god it is.” 
“Well maybe if you stop making faces at her it would go faster,” Eddie suggested, barely holding back his laughter as Steve gave him the world’s bitchiest look before turning back to Joy with renewed vigor. 
“I’m not making faces,” Steve said, continuing to make weird faces at the baby as he tried and failed to spoon applesauce into her mouth. Joy cooed at her brother’s antics, smiling a bright gummy smile as the applesauce dribbled out of her mouth. 
“C’mon, Joy, work with me,” Steve begged, holding out the spoon, “Don’t you love me? Don’t you want me to be happy?” 
Joy burbled, grabbing at the spoon and trying to yank it out of Steve’s grip, flinging applesauce everywhere as she did. Eddie dodged the bit that had been heading for his hair, trying not to burst into laughter as he watched a glob land directly in the middle of Steve’s forehead. 
“Maybe her favorite babysitter should give it a shot?” Eddie offered, trying to act like he wasn’t dying from laughter inside. Most of the time Steve took things fine, but Eddie knew there was a deeply hidden part of his best friend that took every single ‘failure’ as even more evidence he wasn’t cut out to raise his half-sister on his own. 
“Her favorite babysitter is Wayne and you know it,” Steve said with a sigh, voluntarily releasing the spoon and walking over to the sink to wash himself off. 
“Yes, but Wayne was the one who used to get me to eat when I was in silly moods too,” Eddie replied, unable to keep from changing his tone to complete babytalk as he sat in front of Joy. It was just impossible to not want to make those chubby cheeks turn up into a big grin, “Yes he was. I was a silly boy just like you’re a silly silly girl!” 
Joy wiggled in her high chair, slapping her hands down on the tray table as she babbled. 
“And how exactly did he do that?” Steve asked dryly, wiping his face on a clean washcloth and tossing it over his shoulder as he leaned against the sink. 
“Usually with pliers and a crowbar,” Eddie immediately shot back. 
He waited for a few seconds, watching Steve get paler and paler until he was forced to put the man out of his misery. 
“Kidding! Geez, Stevie, lighten up.”
“Sorry I guess I’m just nervous,” Steve said, flapping a hand as he walked closer, reaching down with the washcloth to clean up Joy’s face, “Since it’s the first time…”
He trailed off with a sigh, avoiding eye contact with Eddie and focusing on Joy. Completely unaware, she looked up at her brother, sticking her tongue out and cackling to herself as she did. 
She truly was the world’s cutest baby, but Eddie had someone equally cute he needed to focus his attention on. 
“Everything’s fine now, I promise.” Eddie said, putting down the cup and spoon and coaxing Steve into a hug. He held Steve tight, feeling the other boy clinging on just as hard, burrowing his face into Eddie’s shoulder as he released the tension that had been holding him hostage since the moment Eddie walked in.
It made sense that Steve was so frazzled. This was the first time he was leaving Joy home without him.  
“You’ll go to your shift, you’ll come home with a VHS, we’ll put the baby down, and we’ll celebrate, just you and me” Eddie said, laying the day out in easy to follow steps and hoping that would ease some of Steve’s anxiety, “Me and Joy will stay here the whole day. The only place we’ll go is in the backyard, and I’ll make sure she wears a jacket and shoes if we do,” 
“Starting to sound pretty domestic there Munson,” Steve mumbled, but Eddie could hear the smile on his lips. 
“I’m a regular Lucy Ricardo,” Eddie declared, pulling away from Steve and gently pushing him towards the door, “Now shoo. Go bring home the bacon, Big Daddy.” 
Steve turned red in a second, even the tips of his ears burning a dusty rouge as he shoved Eddie away and spluttered for something to say. It was a lot harder for Steve to think of snappy comebacks now that he had implemented a no cursing rule in the house, and Eddie was planning on taking advantage of that in every way he could. 
Joy was amazing for everything she did, even the unintentional things. 
“I love you, baby. I’ll be home soon. You be a good girl for Eddie,” Steve crooned, giving Joy a thousand kisses before he turned to leave, pausing for a second before walking back over and pressing a firm kiss to Eddie’s cheek. 
“Be home at five, Darling. You better have dinner in the oven and waiting,” Steve ordered, flashing Eddie a tricky little grin before he disappeared out the door. Eddie blinked rapidly at the air in front of him, as if he could will Steve back into existence so he could demand to know exactly what the fuck had just happened. 
“Your brother’s trying to kill me, Joy.” Eddie moaned, hiding his face behind his hair as Joy continued to shout nonsense words in his direction
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findafight · 3 months
Text
For the STWG daily drabble prompt “accidental confessions” (I wrote this half in bed last night, half in bed this morning. Forgive some mistakes thanks) took it in a different direction.
It takes a full day for Steve to be released from hospital after they’ve confirmed he had broken ribs and a concussion amongst his other more minor injuries. Claudia is incredibly greatful she had the foresight to offer being the poor boys secondary emergency contact in the spring, seeing as Dustin had complained that Steve’s parents took a week to sign him out in November.
She got the call and was able to pick Dustin up and follow the ambulance to the hospital (Steve’s nervous friend had ridden with him, needing attention herself but refusing to let go of his hand). The smell of the smoke from the embers of Starcourt is something she doesn’t think she’ll forget, the stink sticking to Dustin’s hair and clothes. She’s sure it was the same for Steve.
He was under observation (and they did assist him in bathing, thank goodness) before being able to check himself out. She had swooped in and bundled him into her car as his friend’s parents ushered her away with the promise that the two could call, but needed to be home with family for a while to heal.
No one mentions that Claudia Henderson is not related to the Harringtons. If they had, she thinks she would have lost whatever composure she has been clinging to since she saw the sky burning red above the former mall and pulled up to be told her two boys had been caught in the chaos. Steve had been with Dustin when the Hargrove boy had threatened Lucas and protected them, had been coming around for dinner or to drive Dustin around, or to help him style his hair or countless other little things or no reason whatsoever. He has slotted into their lives easily, fitting into a place that neither Claudia nor Dustin realized they needed. He is her son in any way that mattered, and she needed him home. With her.
Finally pulled into the driveway, she opens the passenger door and holds her arms out, letting Steve grip her shoulders and securing a hand in his armpit. She hauls him out and supports him as he stumbles through the entryway.
“This way, sweetheart. You’re in the guest bedroom. Dusty helped air it out for you earlier, so everything’s fresh.” She says, nudging him towards the room. He nods and goes where she guides.
She helps him change into a matching pyjama set she had tucked away for him, as sometimes Dustin had horrible nightmares and could only be calmed by seeing Steve, awake and no longer visibly harmed, and he ended up sleeping on the chesterfield or Dustin’s floor. They were soft, and buttoned down the front, so everything was comfortable and he didn’t over exert or hurt himself trying to get the top over his head.
“I can do the pants myself, mrs. H.”
She smiles. “Of course. I’ll turn around and you let me know when you’re ready so I can help you get settled.”
“‘Kay.” There’s more shuffling than she would like, and more groans, but Steve gives her a “ready” before she gets too worried. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, loose pants the hospital provided kicked into the corner, looking a bit lost. His eyes are drooping, eyebrows slightly creased, and his mouth gapes a little, like he’s trying to figure out if he should speak.
Gently, she tugs the quilt out from under him, helping him lay back and tuck his feet under the sheets. She pulls everything up to his chin and kisses his forehead.
He hums contentedly and she brushes his hair further out of the way.
“Would you like me to turn the lights out?”
Steve slowly blinks his eyes at her, fingers curling around the edge of the quilt. His answer is a soft “yes please” followed by, “don’t leave?”
It’s so small, so desperate and resigned, it breaks Claudia’s heart all over again. She steps away from the bed, flicks the switch and turns right back around to sit on the edge of the bed. She’ll get a glass of water for him later, but now she just runs her hand through his hair, petting him soothingly.
He sighs, his body losing some of the tension he’s been holding, and his eyes droop. Humming, he burrows dirtying into the blankets but whines when she moves her hand away. She returns to petting. “There, there, honey. You’ll feel better after you sleep more, alright. And you don’t need to worry about anything. I’m right here.”
He nods just slightly, smacking his lips together and pressing his forehead into her palm. “Mmm. That’s good. I wish you were my mom.”
The admission is followed by another sigh and Steve losing the battle to keep his eyes open. It strikes Claudia through the heart, all this time seeing Steve as her own, trying to make sure he doesn’t feel smothered by her need to…well. Smother. And she had rarely considered that Steve would admit to wanting or needing the kind of support and warmth she was restraining (very badly) from throwing at him.
He probably only said it because of the concussion and the various pain or antibiotic drugs the hospital had given him, but it must have been true. He has asked her to stay, and whines when she moved her hand away. Over the past months he’d gotten more and more comfortable in their house and told her more about his frequently absent and disappointed parents. Steve needed support, and steady and reliable presence he trusted. And he saw that in Claudia.
If Steve wishes she were his mother, then his mother she’ll be. She’s been that for him probably since that first night they officially met in November, a beat up boy clutching her son’s shoulder in the Byers house and assuring her he didn’t let the kids get hurt, regardless of his status of also being a kid.
She leans down and kisses his forehead again, and says “well, that’s good, because you are my son.” Even if he can’t hear it. If he wants, she’ll say it everyday until he believes it. For now, she let’s him sleep as she pets his hair gently.
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eyesofshinigami · 2 months
Text
3, 2, 1, Fight!
Rating: General Audiences
Tags: Meet Ugly, Steve and Dustin are brothers, pre-relationship
Written for the STWG daily drabble prompt: not a meet cute but a meet ugly
This is not at all how Steve pictured his Saturday going. He could be anywhere, instead, he’s standing in a comic book shop, fighting over a toy with another grown man who looks like he’s going to beat Steve over the head with it.
“Let go!” the guy yells, trying to tug the action figure out of Steve’s hands
“No, you let go!” Steve yells back, yanking it back. He has to give the guy props, though. He’s just as relentless as Steve is.
The guy sputters, an attractive shade of pink coloring his cheeks as his curly hair falls in his face. Wait, what? “Fuck off, why are you even here? Don’t you belong in a gym or something?”
Steve scoffs, still yanking. “Does it matter why I’m here? Just let go already!”
Dustin had been asking for this action figure for months now, talking about it and showing Steve newspaper clippings and TV commercials. Steve, being the good big brother he is, promised their mom that he would do his best to get it for him for his upcoming birthday. He’d be damned if he was going to let some punk, albeit a very attractive punk, take it away from him. Why did they only put three out on the shelf anyway?
They play tug of war for another few minutes, until the bewildered clerk, who had been watching their exchange, finally butts in and says, “Uh, I think I might have another one in the back? Can you wait here?”
They both nod, neither of them letting go of the toy. “I wish he would have said that in the first place,” Steve grouses, watching the clerk disappear behind a door. “Why they only put out a couple of copies of a toy I will never understand.”
It’s Hot Guy’s turn to sputter. “Toy? TOY? This, sir, is the limited edition statue of Kas the Betrayer that Wizard of the Coast put out to celebrate the anniversary of his DnD release! Not that you would care about any of that, you troglodyte.”
Steve has no idea what any of that means. “Oh, so that’s why Dustin wanted it. Makes sense now. He loves that guy.”
“Wait, it’s not for you?”
“Uh, no? It’s for my kid brother’s birthday. He loves that Dorks and Dragons game and he ran a Kas… uh… campaign? Last year? It was his first time. Kas is kind of a big deal to him.”
The other guy starts to look a little contemplative, but that’s when the clerk appears with another, much less rankled looking box. Steve immediately lets the one in his hands go and takes that one instead. “Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”
The clerk shrugs and heads back behind the counter. Meanwhile, Hot Guy tugs his hair in front of his face. “Uh, look. I’m sorry I said such shitty things over a toy. It’s just, Kas is kind of a big deal to me too. You could have just said.”
Steve waves him off. “No worries, I get it. But now we both have one.” He pauses and considers a second. It’s worth a shot. “You could make it up to me over lunch in the food court.”
Hot Guy’s eyes go wide. “Are you serious?”
Okay, wow. “Well, I was, but you can just say no, you don’t have to-“
“No, no, no!” Hot Guy says, waving his arms around, nearly dropping the box he fought so hard for. “No, I’d like that. Eddie,” he says, holding out a hand. That pretty pink flush is back. Steve kind of wants to see how far it goes down.
“Steve. Now let’s go, before any more wayward nerds decide they want to fight us over these.”
Eddie, dork that he is, bows and motions towards the cash register, “By your leave, my prince.”
Steve rolls his eyes. He always did like the nerdy ones.
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steventhusiast · 6 months
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STWG daily prompt 9/12/23
prompt: barbie
pairing/character(s): steddie, stobin
transfemme!stevie has my heart ngl
-
Stevie's been out to Eddie for a few months when her birthday comes around. And she's anticipating a... Depressing day, if she's honest.
The only people that know are Eddie and Robin. To everyone else, she's still a guy. So she anticipates all the masculine gifts; cologne, clothes she won't wear, gag gifts from the kids about her being their dad.
And that part of her birthday is depressing. She sits through a lunch-time barbecue with the party and Eddie holds her hand out of view of everyone else so she can squeeze it every time something is said that makes her want to bawl her eyes out. Like how Mike keeps making jokes about how her hair's starting to be too long to look good, and Dustin keeps asking why she's wearing so many layers in July, and everyone keeps calling her the birthday boy, and son, and Steve-
She's happy to go home, is the point. Expects to spend the rest of the night curled up on the couch with Eddie who will no doubt spend the rest of his night feeding her words of affirmation about how she's his girl and other ooey gooey feminine phrases he knows quell the knot in her stomach some.
What she doesn't expect is for Robin to be sat on the couch she wants to curl up on, a comically huge blanket in her hands and an equally comically large pile of gifts towered in front of the couch.
"Rob, what-" Stevie starts, eyebrows raising involuntarily. She looks to Eddie, who has a small, proud smile on his face.
"Happy birthday, dingus!" Robin cheers. A party popper seems to have materialised in her hand out of nowhere, and Stevie can't help the laugh that's shocked out of her when it pops loudly.
"Go get changed into something more Stevie, okay, my love? It's time for your real birthday." Eddie says into her ear.
A sudden well of emotion builds up inside her at the words, at how lovely her boyfriend and best friend are, at the thought of how much they must have spent to buy her these gifts. She sniffs harshly to keep tears from falling, nods, and goes to her and Eddie's room without a word.
She considers getting straight into sweats in case she falls asleep in the living room, but knows she needs to feel feminine right now. Needs to see who she is reflected on the outside as well as the inside so she doesn't feel so... Wrong for the rest of the night. She slips into a comfortable pink day dress with a wrap front (an incredibly willing donation from Robin's closet) and doesn't give herself any time to scrutinise her figure in the mirror. Just brushes her hair out of its more masculine style of being pushed back, and into something softer that frames her face.
When she reenters the living room, Robin is still sat on the couch with the blanket, and Eddie is crouched down by the pile of gifts, murmuring to himself as he picks through them. Robin's laughing at him, and Stevie's chest feels warm in their presence.
"Hey! There's the birthday girl." Eddie grins when he sees her, and then looks back down at the gift pile to select a box-shaped one that's wrapped in purple polka-dot paper.
Stevie sits next to Robin, and tilts her head to rest on her shoulder as she watches her boyfriend make a sound of celebration when he holds up the gift.
"I was gonna save this gift for last, but after that shitshow I just- here, babygirl." He holds it out to Stevie with a softer smile on his face (Robin calls it his Stevie Smile), and Stevie takes it with gentle hands.
"It's from him and me, by the way. Don't let dingus 2 take all the credit." Robin adds on. Eddie just rolls his eyes and nods, and then starts to talk as Stevie carefully tears the wrapping paper. She's trying to preserve it as much as she can. Wants to keep as much evidence of her first birthday as herself as she can.
"I hope we got the right one. It was kinda hard to find, but I went to a bunch of flea markets and I remember you talking about how when you were younger you wanted it but your mom wouldn't let you and-"
Eddie cuts himself off when Stevie finally tears enough wrapping paper away to see the beginnings of the Barbie logo and gasps. Tears are already brewing in her eyes, and maybe one or two drip onto the precious wrapping paper as she manages to slide it off to reveal-
"Ballerina Barbie." She whispers, staring down at the doll. Her hands are shaking a little, and she feels so incredibly wobbly and warm.
She can't believe Eddie remembers what she said about the moment she knew she wasn't a boy the way she was supposed to be. How her mom had snatched the toy out of her hands in the toystore and replaced it with a car set.
"Is it the right one?" Eddie asks after a moment, and Stevie lifts her head to see him chewing nervously on his lip.
Instead of speaking, she wordlessly gestures for him to join her and Robin on the couch and promptly throws an arm around each of them for a much needed cuddle.
"It's perfect." She says to both of them, and gets twin squeezes to each side. A couple more tears slip out as she looks at the pile of gifts she still has to go through, "I can't believe you guys did all this for me."
"We love you, Stevie-bee." Robin says simply. Like that explains everything. Like it makes perfect sense.
"Yeah, we gotta treat our girl the way she deserves." Eddie adds on.
And Stevie thinks that maybe it does make perfect sense. After all, she'd go the same length for either of them.
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steddiejudas · 8 months
Text
STWG Daily Drabble 9/30/23
prompt: drunk talk
“Ssteeeve! Over.” Dustin’s voice comes over the radio, staticky and slurred.
It’s 1 AM, Steve has a shift first thing in the morning, and he really should be sleeping, but he’s been nervously awaiting this call all night. His kids are finally leaving the nest, going to their first party and he knew this meant they would be calling him for a ride at some point, so he kept the volume up on his radio. When he doesn’t answer fast enough, a whole chorus of clumsy voices crackle over the radio. 
“Steven Anita Harrington! Over.” Mike starts giggling like a mad man at the very incorrect middle name he’s decided to give Steve. In the background, Steve is pretty sure he can hear someone throwing up.
“Are you guys okay?” Steve asks, and then after a moment of silence, adds: “Over.”
“Thank you, Steven! We are great! Over.” There’s a cacophony of giggles and Steve is pretty sure they forgot why they even called,
“Do you need a ride? Over.” 
“To where? Over.” 
“Y- Dumbass, to your homes. Okay stay where you are, I'm coming to get you.” Steve zips a hoodie halfway up his bare chest, too tired and annoyed to put a shirt on, and grabs his keys on the way out the door. He’d had the good sense to make them tell them who was throwing the party, and a couple minutes later, he’s pulling up to a house that’s not too far from his own. He spots his gaggle of drunkards immediately, the lot of them huddled around the radio, shaking it and hitting the side like it’ll split at the seams and drop candy. “Hey! Dumbasses! Get in the car,” he hollers.
Dustin, Mike, and Lucas look up from the radio, dumbfounded. “Steve, what are you doing here?” Lucas asks.
“Dude, I just told you I was coming to pick you up.”
Mike scoffs and puts an arm around Will who, yup that definitely was puking he heard, because Will is doubled over in the bushes. “You didn’t say ‘over’, dumbass.”
“Just get in the car! You guys are sleeping at mine tonight, or your parents will kill me for letting this happen.” The boys stumble towards the car, fighting over the handle for the front seat when a large hand appears out of nowhere and pushes them out of the way.
“Nuh uh kiddos, respect your elders. I ride shotgun.” Eddie says, swaying only a fraction as bad as the kids. They grumble, but agree and help Will into the backseat. “And a good evening to you, boys.” Eddie says, staring directly at Steve’s chest. 
From the back seat there’s a chorus of “Boo! Weak! Do better!” Even from Will, who is barely holding his head up off Mike’s shoulder. Eddie takes the challenge as Steve starts driving back to his house.
“I’ve always wanted to live in the jungle,” he says. Steve has to swat Eddie’s hand away from running through his chest hair, desperately trying to be annoyed and not aroused in front of the kids. But Eddie knows Steve knows he has a thing for his hair, and Steve has a thing for anything that gets Eddie riled up. 
“What are you even doing here, Eds? I thought you were at home.”
“Team bonding?” Eddie tries.
“He was selling drugs!” Dustin hollers, absolutely zero control over his volume. 
Eddie whips around in his seat to yell “You motherfucker!” at Dustin.
“Nope,” the kid retorts. “Pretty sure that’s you.”
When they pull into Steve’s driveway, he orders the kids to go to the living room and go to sleep. The boys slowly fumble their way out of the car and through the front door, all the while Eddie stares at Steve with a lusty fire burning in his eyes. 
“You wore that just to torture me, didn’t you?” Eddie asks.
“Eddie, I didn’t even know you were at the party. Come on, let’s get you to bed.”
“OR we could stay out here and fog up these windows.”
“Nice try, my beautiful little distillery, you are far too drunk. Now be a good boy and get in bed, and maybe I’ll let you pet me you little weirdo.”
Eddie unbuckles and throws the door open so fast that he trips over his feet and face plants getting out of the car. He hops up, no worse for wear, and turns around to salute Steve. “Sir, yes sir!” He yells, and sprints through the house to Steve’s bedroom.
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maxinemaxmayfield · 8 months
Text
For the STWG daily drabble prompt: summer camp
“You were a summer camp kid?” Eddie asks, looking at the photo stuck up beside Steve’s desk.
He’s probably about 8, missing a front tooth, hair messy and a carefree smile across his face.
“Yeah, that a surprise?”
“Just figured you were more of a horse-back-riding-and-sailing kind of kid.”
Steve snorts. “It’s Indiana, Eddie. You want your kid to disappear for a couple months, you send them to camp.”
Eddie hums, looking closer at the shirt Steve’s wearing. It’s a grainy photo, old and faded, but he recognises that design.
“Wait… is that Camp Tippecanoe?”
“You know it?”
“Uh, yeah, I went there.”
Steve looks at him curiously. “You didn’t even live in Hawkins back then.”
“No, but Wayne applied for me to go. They had a program for ‘underprivileged’ kids, probably a tax break thing or something. But I got in, and he offered to drive me, so my folks couldn’t say no.”
Steve drops down next to his bed, reaching underneath and pulling out a battered shoebox. He doesn’t say a word, just removes the lid and starts rifling through the contents.
“What are you doing?” Eddie asks him, kneeling on the other side of the box.
“What year were you there?”
“Uh, I was… I think around 10, maybe? So probably 1976.”
Steve doesn’t answer, just keeps flipping through the photos like he’s looking for something he knows is in there.
He stops at a photo of two boys side-by-side. “I went every summer until I was 12, Ed. Every single summer.”
And then Eddie is looking at a photo of his younger self, hair buzzed and a skinny arm thrown around the boy next to him, a boy who looks an awful lot like -
“You were little Stevie?” Eddie bites the inside of his cheek, eyes dropping from Steve’s at a sudden memory that crashes over him like a rogue wave.
“How much do you remember about that summer?” Steve asks, quietly.
Eddie keeps his eyes on the carpet between them, suddenly very interested in memorising the exact shade.
“Everything,” he finally admits.
“Me too.”
And when he looks back up, he sees the same soft, kind eyes he saw behind the mess hall right before he leaned in for his first kiss. A kiss with a boy he never thought he’d see again after that summer. A kiss he never forgot.
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momotonescreaming · 3 months
Text
STWG Daily Prompt: Chocolate Covered Strawberries
[Part One]
“Do you think you need a special type of chocolate?” Eddie starts, speaking into the stagnant air of the trailer as he flops down onto the couch. Sends a burst of dust spiralling into the air as the cushions dip under his weight. “To make, like, chocolate covered strawberries or something.”
He cranes his head, hair splayed out around him as he watches Wayne’s reaction. Watches as his uncle lowers the newspaper he was reading, looks over at Eddie from behind the folded pages from his position in his armchair in the corner. Face carefully still as he raises a single eyebrow as if to say how the hell should I know?
Eddie just huffs, rolling his eyes at his uncle, arm draped over the side of the couch as he settles in. He’s tempted to tip himself upside down — pun not intended — hang his head over the side of the couch and kick his legs up in the air. Maybe it would help him think, all the blood rushing to his head. He’d do it, if he wasn’t sure he’d kick over something — a hat, or a mug, or two, or three. “Throw me a bone here, Wayne.”
“I’d say regular chocolate should work just fine.” Wayne says, lowering his eyebrow. Voice gruff, but serious as he gives Eddie an answer. “Just put it in the fridge to keep it cool. Help it set.”
“Are you sure?” Eddie asks, picking at the stray threads of the couch. Running them between his fingers. Plucking and pulling them taut, his voice pitching higher. Tighter. Feeling and sounding a little bit more vulnerable than he intended. “You’re not a chef.”
“Neither are you,” His uncle retorts, face carefully deadpan. And Eddie snorts, the thread of anxiousness he was pulling, now slowly loosening in his chest. “So what bought this on? Dinner with your boy went well I take it?
“So well,” Eddie gushes, smile creeping across his face, cheeks flushing pick at the thought of Steve. At the thought of Wayne calling Steve his boy. He’s sure Wayne can see it from his armchair, looking at him from over the pages of the newspaper. Can almost guarantee it, in fact, if the smile on his uncle’s face is anything to go by. “Steve made us dinner from scratch — lasagne with garlic bread and a wine paring and everything — and it was the most delicious thing I’ve ever eaten. And not just because he made it for me. He lit candles, and was wearing this navy blue button down that made him look so hot.”
“Boy,” Wayne says, a little exasperated. He’s still smiling. Eddie can see it curling up underneath his beard.
“We listened to music and made ice cream sundaes together for desert,” Eddie continues, smile not leaving his face. His toes curl, and he sort of lets himself shrink into the couch as he talks. Melting into it under thoughts of Steve. “We kissed and slow danced in the kitchen as I helped him do the dishes.”
“And,” Wayne prompts, raising his eyebrow again, but he’s still smiling. He’s happy for him, Eddie knows.
Eddie sighs, letting Wayne look right through him. He always does.
“And if I don’t do something equally romantic in return I’m going to cry,” Eddie whines, playing it up, slumping even further until he’s almost falling off the couch and onto the floor. Locks eyes with Wayne and pouts. He’s being dramatic, but he means it. Steve deserves the best, deserves the romance he’s always wanted and Eddie isn’t quite sure how to give it to him.
“Romance ain’t a competition, boy,” His uncle simply says.
“It is and I’m losing,” Eddie whines, pulling a face as Wayne just laughs. Deep, and warm, and comforting.
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