#and I think in any universe Steve and Eddie would find a way | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

finntheehumaneater · 3 months

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from the prompts lists for a lil steddie sickfic 👉👈 bonus points if you can get an uncle wayne cameo in there too lmao

“I’m gonna be sick.” & “Look at me - just breathe, okay?”

hallo, liebe!!! I had way too much fun with this. I want to make this universe its own thing. Everybody send me asks about this I want to talk about my domestic steddie AU please, I love them so much.

(All ask prompt lists are in my pinned posts, and sorry for any mistakes, most of this was copied and pasted from photos of notebook paper, and it does not like my handwriting lmao)

TW: throwing up

Ozzy only liked to eat if someone was watching him. Steve said it was because he wanted to feel safe and protected, but Eddie knew it was because he was an attention whore.

He was currently perched on top of the table, his black tail swiping impatiently as he meowed at Eddie—not pawing the open laptop closed yet, but it looked like he was thinking about it.

“M'doing work, babe,” Eddie muttered gently, reaching out to pet the cat but he ducked away. He rifled through his notes again, trying to remember what name he and Steve had decided for the elven lord. Steve didn’t normally help with Eddie's novel—said he didn't know enough about fantasy and the like, and he didn't want to ruin it—but he had sat down with Eddie on the couch and looked through lists of Welsh names until he found one he thought sounded fit for an elven lord.

And Eddie had agreed, it was a name fit for an elven lord, but he couldn't remember, and he just needed to find the stupid paper with the character names—

Meow!

Eddie's eyes moved back to the cat, and that added on top of the stress of writing made something inside of him snap. “Ozzy, babe. I’m working.”

The cat shied away, his ears flattening and his eyes widening. Eddie ran a hand down his face.This wasn't worth yelling at his cat over.

“Oz…” he closed the laptop and picked up the cat, carrying him to the laundry room. They kept his food on top of the dryer, because when he and Steve had moved in (what... three years ago?) Ozzy had decided that the laundry room was his room, and that people could only actually do the laundry if he liked them.

Eddie set Ozzy down in front of the food dish and pressed a kiss to his side before going to get the hampers from his and Steve's (and Wayne’s) room.

Wayne had been living with them since they had bought the house, and he had lived with them in their apartment before that. he was in charge of doing the “adult things”, even though Eddie and Steve were nearing (thirty twenty-seven for Steve and twenty-eight for Eddie, although Eddie was almost twenty-nine), because Steve's memory couldn't be trusted for things he wasn't one hundred percent in on, and Eddie just couldn't be trusted to do most things on his own. He would much rather be writing.

Wayne still worked as a mechanic, downtown, but this time he liked his job. He'd never leave if he could, but that meant that he wouldn't get to watch baseball with Steve.

Eddie swore that sometimes it felt like Wayne loved Steve more than him.

Steve was working as a teacher—middle schoolers—and he hadn't been doing it for all that long, but the kids loved him. And he loved them back. Especially one girl named Hayden, because he said she reminded him of Max (Max worked with Gareth at a bookstore a little while away. They shared an apartment, and Max didn't really "work" at the store, seeing how her eyesight fluctuated, but Gareth didn’t mind the company)

And then there was Eddie. Who wrote. The whole rockstar thing hadn't really worked out for him, but he and the guys still got together to play whenever Grant and Jeff were in town.

He was working on his hovel, and he hated every second of it. Sure, he loved writing, but writing an entire-ass-novel was hard.

"It's basically a Lord Of The Rings fanfiction!" He had sobbed to steve one night in bed after he had finally (after six months) finished the rough draft for the outline. “I hate it.”

Steve had just hummed in acknowledgment for a moment, half-curled around Eddie with the messy papers in his hands. "Isn't everything based off of something?"

Eddie had shrugged, keeping his face tucked into Steve’s neck.

“I like Ophelia.” Steve had whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of Eddie's head. "Isn't she the one that stabs the guy with the horns?"

Eddie tried to hum an “mhm” of confirmation, but it came as more of a whine of despair.

“The drawings you did of her for El were pretty,” Steve had continued, his voice gentle and patient in a way that Eddie adored as he nudged his nose into Eddie's hair a bit more. "You should show her these on Sunday when she and her friend Maya come to visit." Eddie had. And honestly? Aside from Steve and Wayne, El was the only reason the novel was even being made. He wouldn't be able to even open his laptop without her nagging and consistent support over the phone.

She lived up north near Jonathan and Argyle, somewhere near New York, and she drove out with her roommate to visit him and Steve occasionally.

Eddie blinked when Ozzy meowed again, rubbing against his flannel pajama pants he hadn't changed out of yet. "All done, bud?" Ozzy didn't answer.

Sometimes Eddie felt like he was going insane, talking to his cat.

He put in the detergent and made sure the clothes were spiraled so that they would wash better, before turning it on, the clear lid closed. He didn’t know what buttons to press, but he knew what noise they were supposed to make and in what order. Steve was normally in charge of laundry, but most of the kids had presentations to do, and the other half were doing theirs tomorrow. He’d probably be too tired to do the laundry when he got home.

Eddie heard the door open and close, and he assumed it was Steve, because Wayne wasn't supposed to be home for another hour or two.

"Stevie?" Eddie called out, and he kept talking when he didn't get an answer, because sometimes Steve got home and had what Eddie called Quiet Time, where he would just stay silent and listen to Eddie talk for a while before taking a shower and maybe having a nap." You want any apple? I had one just before you got here, but I left the peels on a bowl on the table, because I love you and things you like, even though it's weird. There’s seltzer too, but it's probably still warm because I only put them in the fridge like…fifteen minutes ago. Might be fine if you put ice in it, though.”

Eddie knew something was wrong even before Steve shuffled into the kitchen—all hunched over, his eyes rimmed red and his cheeks wet, glasses perched low on his nose, nearly slipping off of his face—because there were no arms wrapped around his waist, no face pressed into his neck, and no Robin Buckley perched on his counter.

She had been driving Steve to and from... basically everywhere since he had gotten his license taken away. The doctors—and anyone—didn't trust him to drive with his seizures. It had taken Steve a while to get used to not being everyone's personal chauffeur anymore.

"You okay, babes?" Eddie asked softly, concern seeping into his tone as Steve leaned against the doorframe.

"I feel like I'm gonna be sick,” Steve choked out, his voice strained.

“Oh, sweetheart...did one of your kids get you sick? "Eddie asked, taking Steve’s glasses off and setting them onto the kitchen counter before cupping his elbow and helping him over to the bathroom.

He gently pushed Steve down to kneel in front of the toilet, tugging his hair up and out of his face. It wouldn't have gotten in the way, but it looked adorable when all of the fringe that would normally sweep over his forehead in its coif was gathered up in a little ponytail on top of his head.

As much as Eddie would always be there for Steve, he still made a face and cringed away slightly when Steve threw up, smoothing his hand up and down Steve's spine and shoulders as Steve gagged and sobbed between painful-sounding heaves.

Eddie slipped off Steve's jacket when he went limp in his arms, reaching over to flush the toilet. “Shower?”

Steve shook his head, his face contorting into something pathetic that made Eddie’s heart tug.

"What's the matter, baby? "Eddie murmured, wrapping his arms around Steve's waist, his chin tucked over Steve's shoulder. He'd make Steve get up and brush his teeth in a bit after he had sat and rested. He was still shaking, so Eddie doubted he would be able to stand okay right then.

“I’ll have to call in sick tomorrow,” Steve gasped, shaking his head. “I won’t be able to go in.”

“You don’t want to stay home and rest? Darling, I love you and you are so beautiful, but you look like death right now. You’re more pale than me.”

“Liam has his presentation tomorrow. I have to be there! H-he has a hard time speaking, and—a-and I don’t want him to be nervous. I promised him I’d be there for him,” Steve said, his voice broken and desperate, and God, Eddie was so in love with man that it physically hurt.

Steve was so kind, and caring, and sweet, and compassionate, and the list just went on, and on, and on.

“Look at me,” Eddie whispered, his fingers brushing over Steve’s stomach. “Just breathe, okay? Liam will be okay.”

Steve shook his head again, his breath shaky and his hands gripping at Eddie’s arms like he was scared to let go. He looked like he was going to throw up again if he didn’t calm down, and didn’t want him to have to go through that anymore.

“Liam will be okay,” Eddie repeated, his voice a bit more firm as he pressed a hand gently to Steve’s chest. “Breathe.”

Steve did breathe, but his voice was still shaking, and Eddie’s hand went up and down with each movement. “I promised him…”

“I know you promised him,” Eddie whispered, pressing a kiss to Steve’s forehead. “But you can’t control these things. He’ll be alright, baby, he’s a good kid.”

Eventually, Steve’s hands loosened and slid up to Eddie’s shoulders. He pushed himself to stand, and Eddie followed after him. “I’m…I’m okay now.”

“You’re okay,” Eddie parroted back, rubbing Steve’s arm up and down as Steve got his toothbrush out of the mug Wayne had put in the bathroom shelf. It was for some fishing company in the Adirondacks that Eddie had never heard of.

The door creaked open just a bit more than it already was and in strolled Ozzy, meowing lightly. Eddie picked him up when he stood to paw at his thigh, cooing, “Aw, there’s my baby…”

He pressed a kiss to the top of Ozzy’s head, and the cat meowed in protest, now seeing it be a bit against his original plan of being cradled and snug in Eddie’s arms if it meant he had to be kissed.

The poor thing lived a very hard life.

“M’thought I was your baby,” Steve muttered around his toothbrush, and Eddie rolled his eyes, gently knocking his hip into Steve’s, kissing Ozzy’s head again as he squirmed and tried to escape the confines of Eddie’s arms.

“I can have more than one baby,” he said, and then his voice turned more serious. “Oh, shit, I have to call Nance and tell her that we can’t have Megan over tomorrow afternoon.”

Megan was Nancy’s three year old daughter, and she was lovely, but she was stubborn.

Steve’s face crumpled slightly as he washed the toothbrush off, and Eddie watched him try to hide it by pinching at his nose and sighing. “I’m so sorry, Eds, this is ruining all of our plans…”

“Hey, no,” Eddie set Ozzy down when he started to kick at his arm, biting at the sleeve of his t-shirt. “Steve, honey…”

Steve’s eyes were glassy again when Eddie finally got him to look at him. “I hate being sick,” he practically whimpered, his expression pleading, and fuck—if Eddie could make him feel better he would, but that wasn’t really an option.

“I know, sweet thing,” Eddie murmured sympathetically, pressing a kiss to Steve’s knuckles. “You wanna go and lay down? I’ll get you some Tylenol?”

Steve nodded and Eddie helped him to bed, getting him changed even though he could do it himself. He got Steve the pill and some water and told him that if he wanted to shower when he woke up he could, but the water couldn’t be hot in case he passed out again, like he had the last time he was sick. Head injuries with Steve were no joke.

He got Steve’s bag from where he had left it by the front door when he had come in, then switched the laundry over and when he was just sitting down to work again, Wayne got home.

“You’re early.”

Wayne shrugged, picking up one of the apple peels out of the bowl and popping it into his mouth. “Katie forced me to come back before I started workin’ on another car.”

“Hm,” Eddie hummed, opening the laptop. “Steve got home sick, so be nice.”

“M’always nice.”

Eddie sighed, shaking his head slightly with a smile before getting back to work.

Steve hadn’t wanted Eddie to sleep with him in case he got sick, too—offering to sleep on the couch instead so that Eddie could have the bed, but Eddie had very lovingly said “fuck no” to that. He was curled around Steve, nose pressed into the sweaty hair on the back of Steve’s neck.

Wayne was out on their neighbor’s porch smoking, and Ozzy was put away in the laundry room (his cat house had been moved there before Eddie crawled into bed, he wasn’t evil) so that he wouldn’t wake everyone up at four in the morning.

There was a trash can by the bed, because Steve had thrown up again after dinner, even though he had barely eaten anything.

“How much did you write today?” Steve whispered, voice scratchy and hoarse

“You’re supposed to be sleeping, babes,” Eddie muttered, pressing a kiss to Steve’s shoulder.

“But how much?”

“Three thousand, maybe. Maybe a bit less.”

“That’s a lot.”

“Debatable.”

Steve laughed, then coughed, wincing.

“Go to sleep,” Eddie whispered, his lips brushing against Steve’s skin.

Steve still had that ridiculous ponytail on top of his head. Either he didn’t know it was there still, or he had finally come around to realizing how adorable it was.

(More of this au, and the Doemstic!Steddie AU MasterList) Permanent taglist: @anne-bennett-cosplayer @estrellami-1 @here4thetrama @goodolefashionedloverboi @gregre369

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eldritch-thrumming · 4 months

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if we lived on the moon.

Not for the first time, Steve Harrington wishes he lived anywhere but Hawkins, Indiana.

He spots Eddie walking toward him down the grocery store aisle where he’s been waiting for him, shifting a can of baked beans from one hand to the other, dimples on full display.

“Got ‘em! Found the last can, they were shoved all the way to the back of the shelf, can you believe it? Had to reach all the way back.” Eddie stops short where Steve stands with his hands on the shopping cart handle. His eyes raise from the can in his hands to Steve’s face, smile widening. “I can’t wait to make you Wayne’s famous wieners and beans. It was all I would eat when I first moved in with him.” Eddie’s eyes sparkle while he talks, remembering, gaze still on Steve as he leans down to place the can in the bottom of the cart. His smile softens and Steve is transfixed, frozen in place, nearly breathless. “Guess it reminded me of my mom,” he finishes in a near-whisper. It makes Steve wish he’d known him when they were kids, that they’d grown up together and seen each other in every moment of their lives.

As Eddie leans back up out of the cart, a lock of hair falls across his face. Steve’s hand itches to reach out and tuck it behind his ear for him. He glances around, covertly and quickly. Finding their aisle empty, he gives in to his impulse and allows his fingers to brush Eddie’s hair away from his eyes for him before dropping it back onto the cart handle. Eddie blushes, just a little, and brings his own hand up to pull that same hair in front of his face, suddenly bashful.

Maybe it isn’t any where he wants to be. Maybe it’s an any when. Maybe in a year—or two or three or ten—he can touch his boyfriend’s hair without looking over his shoulder to be sure there’s no one watching. Maybe in a year—or two or three or ten—he can grocery shop holding Eddie’s hand and no one will say anything at all. Maybe in ten years, he’ll be allowed to kiss Eddie right in the center of Hawkins where anyone could see them and no one would even care. Maybe then they’ll be allowed to have their date nights at the diner like everyone else, instead of tucked away in the trailer with mismatched candlesticks for a centerpiece and the radio playing their well-worn mixtapes, the ones Steve knows by heart. Maybe it’s just a matter of waiting it out. Maybe then—if he believes in this bright, beautiful future when—he won’t be forced to leave everything behind just to be allowed to love Eddie out in the open, where everyone could see.

They turn to leave the aisle, finished with their shopping, but before they exit the deserted space completely, Steve feels the brush of Eddie’s knuckles against his own as he pushes the cart in front of him, like a butterfly: there suddenly, gentle and then gone.

He has to believe in anywhere and any when.

"i'd hold your hand if we lived on the moon, walking down the avenue. we'd never think twice about who we'd offend and we'd never say we're just friends. no, we'd never say we're just friends. all that i know is i want you forever and nothing like this could be wrong. if people on earth think that they know us better than we do, then i'll live on the moon with you."

is this anything? i obviously didn't know how to end it lol. i'm having big gay sad feelings tonight about homophobia. i rarely write in a universe where homophobia exists, because these are my barbies and i'm the god of this gay little world, but i'm extra sad today. hope you enjoyed this or something. idk. who are ur fave openly gay musicians? i like boygenius, muna, fletcher, etc. trying to get away from u know who, give me recs!!!! ok bye.

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie blurb #steddie drabble #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #tw homophobia #period typical homophobia #steddie ficlet #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic

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flowercrowngods · 11 months

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part 1 | part 2 (these make one big story, you won't understand this part without the others)

day 03: first kiss

a/n: not sure if I vibe with this part, but I hope it's okay. also don't think you're getting fluff

A broken heart is such a thing that will make you live either in the past or in the future; never in the present moment. Lovesickness feels like a virus is attacking the very fabric of your universe, distorting time and space and leaving you floating; directionless and hurting.

That is how Steve feels as he goes through the motions of his life, getting his kids ready for finals, for their oral and written exams, or planning end-of-year school trips. While school provides a great distraction and he has mastered the art of switching into teacher mode almost effortlessly, he feels like he’s just an inch or two beside himself. Beside where he should be.

He’s dwelling in the past or mourning dozens of possible futures, an infinity of them that will end up unrealised, unlived, unloved. His heart is heavy all the time, his head hurting, and his phone chiming with an endless string of messages that go unopened, unreplied.

It’s been a few weeks since the engagement party, since he last saw Eddie — who asked if he was okay, who has been asking to see him again, to hang out, have a drink, just catch up. But every time he does, Steve just hurts, and he finds excuses.

— Sorry, it’s finals season, I’ll be spread thin for the next few weeks :(

Eddie had replied with a litany of sad, brokenhearted emojis that were at equal measures ridiculous as they were exactly what Steve was feeling. Is feeling. Will probably always be feeling, for the rest of his life and beyond.

So far, Eddie hasn’t asked him to be his best man. Steve sort of doesn’t want to give him the opportunity for that. He’s cowardly enough to wish he could avoid Eddie forever if only that meant he wouldn’t have to see his face fall and crumble when he tells him, No.

No, I can’t be your best man. I can’t make it to the wedding. I can’t make it, I can’t do this, I can’t stand by and watch as you show me and the rest of the world that your dream life is not with me. Never with me. I can’t hand you over when all I wanna do is hold you. Hold your hand. Walk you down the aisle and then sweep you up in my arms, just to run out, run away; anywhere, as long as it’s with you.

It doesn’t make sense. There won’t be an aisle, there won’t be any sweeping, there won’t be a future for them. Never has been. Not like this.

Although there was a brief moment in time where their futures almost aligned. Almost. The timing was never right, though, stumbling through the motions and currents of two lost boys’ emotions. But it was almost there, almost enough.

And it's what's been on Steve's mind all week, playing and replaying, tearing at him from the inside out, leaving him with a jigsaw puzzle of infinite pieces of could have beens, would have beens, and what ifs.

"You know," he tells Robin one evening, who has practically moved in now, claiming that broken hearts are best nursed together. "I was actually Eddie's first kiss."

To her credit, Robin doesn't drop the carton pizza at Steve's non-sequitur. She just swallows hard and looks at him in that careful way she has now, where she's trying to read him and ask his eyes to tell her what it is that she should say next. It's frustrating. It's the greatest kindness anyone has ever shown him. It makes him want to punch a wall, and it makes him want to wrap her in the warmest hug and never, ever let her go.

"You were?"

Steve just nods, his lips trembling as his throat closes up again.

"No," she says in the gentlest voice, taking his hand as she guides him to the living room couch. "I didn't know that. Do you wanna talk about it?"

He shakes his head, tucking his feet under her thigh and leaning sideways against the backrest of the couch. His head is heavy and he's tired. He's always tired, even though he doesn't cry as much anymore. It's been four weeks since the engagement party.

"No, I just, uh– Just wanted to say that."

She nods, her eyes boring into him for two, three, four seconds before she finally turns to her pizza.

He looks past her, his eyes unfocused as his mind travels back to that day when they were still in high school.

~*~

The day that Eddie told him he was gay. And Steve had asked how he knew, because he'd been wondering about his own sexuality.

"I don't know, I just know."

"Well, have you ever kissed a boy?"

And Eddie had blushed a little, charred with his feet in the dirt like he always did – still does. "No."

"Okay."

And Steve, ten years ago, had thought, why not kill two birds with one stone. "Would you like to?"

"Huh?"

"Well, I mean, I'm kinda on the fence about it? Sometimes I think I might like guys, but then other times not so much. But I've never kissed one either, so," he shrugged. "If you, like, want to? We can."

"You want me to kiss you?" Eddie sounded incredulous, but his eyes were very big, very dark, very vulnerable. And it was not a no.

"Only if you want to."

A grin split Eddie's face then and he raised his eyebrows suggestively, but there was something forced about it. "Well, what If I fall madly in love with you, Steve Harrington, hm? What then?"

"Oh, please," Steve had only snorted; the thought that Eddie would fall for him out of all people was just too absurd.

And then something had shifted between them, the air turned into something sizzling as Eddie's smile fell and he stepped closer to Steve, raising one hand to his cheek.

"Here goes my first kiss," he murmured.

"Ever?"

"If we discount Lisa from kindergarten, then yes."

Steve huffed, looking down at Eddie's lips, the moment strangely intimate – but not uncomfortably so. Being this close to Eddie wasn't something new, Steve was used to his friend's tactile nature. "Fuck Lisa from kindergarten."

"I'd really rather not," Eddie smiled before finally, finally leaning in and capturing Steve's lips in a kiss.

To this day, Steve is not sure why he went and deepened the kiss like he did. Was it because he knew this was Eddie's first and he wanted to make it good, make it last? Was it because something deep inside of him knew that he liked boys, too, and that he liked Eddie, even though that realisation wouldn't come for another year at least?

He doesn't know why, but he feels it on his lips still, the memory of their first kiss. Their only kiss. A spectacular one that ended with twin smiles after Steve showed Eddie how to move his lips, how to tilt his head, how to open his mouth to let him in. How to capture the little sigh that he would make.

Eddie had looked at him, a little dazed, and Steve grinned at him, delighted at his expression more than at the kiss itself.

"A-And did you," Eddie started, pulling his hands away from Steve and shoving them deeply into his pockets. "Did you get any closer to, uh, to finding out?"

"If I like guys?"

Eddie nodded.

Steve thought about it; about the kiss and how it wasn't as soft as making out with Nancy or Allison. How he would swallow their moans and run his hands along their soft bodies. Eddie wasn't like that. Eddie was just Eddie.

"I think I'll just stick with girls for now," he shrugged with a smile, patting Eddie on the shoulder and squeezing lightly when the other boy began to sway a little.

"Suit yourself, Harrington," Eddie said, shoving him a little. "But you're missing out."

Years later, Eddie had drunkenly confessed to him that he'd had a crush on Steve back then. For years. And Steve had wanted to ask about it, ask if it's still there, that crush, that connection on a deeper, closer level; but then Eddie told him, "Remember Chrissy? We're official now."

And all the words had died on Steve's lips. All those questions, or the confession that, Yeah, me too. Though Steve's crush on Eddie was much later, years after their first kiss, – and it never really ended.

Still hasn't. And it's not a crush. It's more. It's everything.. He's in love. In it. Caught, stuck, trapped inside, while Eddie and everyone else is on the outside, just watching him struggle.

~*~

Later that night, on his umpteenth re-run of the First Kiss Episode that's keeping him from falling asleep, leaving him frustrated and sad and wondering, his phone rings. Eddie's name pops up on the screen, the impersonal Eddie Munson feels like a knife through his heart. He couldn't bear any of the silly nicknames that Eddie's always had in his phone, and needed to go back to a clean slate.

It hurts, though. He watches, considering to let it go to voicemail – but he hasn't talked to his... to Eddie in four weeks. Barely even talked to him on his engagement party.

And even though there's a chance opening for Eddie to ask him or to talk about his wedding, Steve answers the call.

"Stevie," Eddie says, somewhere between a sigh and a hum, and immediately takes away Steve's breath.

"Hi," he rasps. His heart is racing, his hands begin to tremble and he's shaking even under the thick, warm blanket.

"Did I wake you?"

He hums a negative, not trusting himself to speak, and it comes out a pathetic croak, because God, he missed Eddie. Part of him was missing – part of him will always be missing now, he knows –, and it makes him cry. It's not a sob, not a wail, not anything that Eddie can hear or something that would alarm Robin in the other room.

They're silent tears, and he presses his face into the pillow. He should hang up.

"Stevie?" Eddie asks again, his voice so small, so gentle, so worried. "Are you okay?" And after a moment of Steve being unresponsive because he can't catch his breath without gasping, Eddie asks, "Are you crying?"

And just like a kid that tries to be brave through the pain after falling down, but breaks the moment someone asks if they're hurt, Steve lets out a tiny, broken little sob.

"Oh, Stevie baby," Eddie sighs, and he sounds so sad, so compassionate, Steve never wants to hear his name like that ever again. "Do you want me to come over?"

"No," he croaks pathetically, hitting himself once, twice, three times for not keeping it together. For not being strong enough.

I can't do this.

"What do you need?"

"Sleep," he sniffles, stupidly.

"Okay. Then I'll stay here and be silent company, yeah? Don't need to be alone. Is Robin there?" He hums again, affirmative. "Good. Want me to say something? Read to you, tell you a story? Play you some music or–"

"Eddie," Steve manages. I love you. "Just silence? But you don't have to."

"Nah, I'll stay with you," Eddie says before Steve even finished his objections. "Until you've fallen asleep, yeah?"

Steve just nods into his pillow, even though Eddie can't see or hear it.

He's watching the seconds turn into minutes as the time passes. He's so tired, but he doesn't want to let go yet. Not when Eddie is right there. Not when there's still the phantom feeling of his lips capturing Steve's, a memory that is ten years old and still as strong as the very first second.

He should have known, then. Should have leaned in for another kiss, should have told Eddie that he knows he's into boys now, too, and ask Eddie to keep kissing him.

He shouldn't have taken years.

He should have created a new world just for the two of them, with an infinite amount of futures, and all go them happy. All of them SteveAndEddie.

But he didn't. And he wants to apologise. For being so slow, for not knowing until it was too late. For pulling away these past few weeks when that's the last thing he ever wants to do. For not being strong enough; for being too weak.

I'm in love with you, he thinks. Over and over and over. Mouths it voicelessly into the silence between them. Says it out loud when after almost two hours, Eddie hangs up with a quiet, "Good night, Stevie. I miss you." He says it when Eddie's gone, the beep of an empty line the only response he gets before that cuts out, too.

And then he's all alone again.

tagging: @sexymothmanincarnate @mcneen @livsters @eddiemunchondeeznuts @abstractnaturaldisaster @steddie-as-they-go @hyperfixationgoddess @goodolefashionedloverboi @stxrcrossed186 @imzadidragonfly @eddiemunsonswife @bidisastersworld @ghost-ly-s @romanticdestruction @walkingaftermidnight07 @anaibis @rainydays35 @mightbeasleep @sunfloweringstories @korixae and thanks to everyone who said nice things about this 🤍🌷

come back tomorrow for: here come the tears (and hurt/comfort, maybe) | read part 4 here

#steddie fic #steddie #steddie week fic #steddieweek2023 #maybe I'll write the first kiss scene as one later. when my eyes dont hurt and the thought of posting doesnt make my brain eat itself #will I ever post a steddie week thing not around 2am?? -- unlikely #the emotions are dulled unless they are sharp because heartache is fun like that (and so is anxiety can I get a wahoo)#dio words #I hope I got all the tags I dont think there were any requests in reblogs but if I missed them pls dont be mad 🥺

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m3talmunson · 1 year

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Any reasonable person would think, with the sheer length of Eddie's hair, that he would have the slightest idea of how to care for it.

If you thought that, you'd be wrong. He was flying by the seat of his pants, with a bonus of simple luck. It was astonishing that his hair didn't get matted throughout day to day life, let alone the end of the world.

Yes, Eddie obviously went to a hospital after it all. Nobody could have survived that level substantial of injuries without it. But no matter the NDA's, or the "freedom from prosecution," as Dr. Owens puts it, it didn't come with a clean-wiped slate in the public eye.

So Eddie chose to lay low. He got the treatments that were deemed necessary by the doctors, and then he got the hell out of there.

At least, from all of this, Eddie learned only to run when he needed to.

Part of him was scared he and Wayne wouldn't be able to swing the bill. That part of him was satiated when Owens's team swung the bill and replaced the... mangled Munson trailer. These government reparations didn't anywhere near touch the damage that was done, but Wayne and Eddie would take what they could get. Like they always had. Of course, the universe saw fit that Eddie take a little more.

Eddie was told -putting it politely- to stay the fuck out of that trailer park. Just because his name was cleared legally doesn't mean he should be anywhere he would normally go about his business. Not for the next couple weeks, at least.

And Steve Harrington, ever so giving, offered up his home as sanctuary.

And of course, Eddie was immediately trying to find a way out of it. When that didn't work, he started asking how soon he needed to leave. He didn't want to feel like a burden, especially not to Steve.

"Stay as long as you need, Eds. Forever, for a little while, on and off, literally anything as long as I don't have to carry you out of hell again. That's the one condition."

Sure, living with Steve had it's perks. He had some semblance of privacy, walls with ANY soundproofing, and company. What more could a boy ask for, you would think.

Not living down the hall from his crush while looking like a walking nightmare, Eddie thought, was a perfectly reasonable thing to ask for. He did not get that.

Despite living in the same house as him, he avoided Steve like the plague. Steve had made it clear his 'what's mine is yours' attitude was open to Eddie, but Eddie preferred his room. His boxes from the old trailer were there, his guitar, his sanity (or what remains). The moment he limped his way out of that door, he was in the realm of Steve. And he did not feel up to the task of being presentable in front of his literal crush.

Still, Steve came into his room every so often. Eddie went to the hospital, but he wasn't magically better. Steve changed his bandages, helped him when he needed it, brought him homemade soup? Because, somehow, Eddie is in an alternate dimension where Steve Harrington is making him his grandma's chicken noodle soup recipe for him. And it is PHENOMENAL.

Eddie could have never expected any of the past month's events. He was still grappling with the fact that life would just... return to normal somehow after the end of the world.

He had enough on his plate. However, the universe thought fit to throw some more on.

During one of his Steve-check-ups™, Steve just absentmindedly mentioned something Eddie was dreading.

"How have you been dealing with all that hair? I mean it's been in a new bun every day this week but you can barely lift your arms?"

"Well, actually Steve," Eddie started, "I haven't. This is the same bun you put in on Wednesday." He tilted his head down, he didn't really want to look Steve in the eye when he said that.

"Well shit Eddie, what can I do to help?"

And wasn't it oh so nice when Steve looked up at him with those big eyes, knocking on the door of his soul. How could Eddie turn his gaze from that?

"What can be done? I can't wash it until these fuckers-" He pointed at the sides of his abdomen, to the bandages that Steve had just finished replacing, "have healed enough for me to lift my arms, which should be almost any time now. Then, we can take these bandages off, I can get out of your hair, and I can clean my own."

It was pretty obvious that neither of the men liked that agreement, but Eddie saw it as the only option. Wait a week, lift his arms, get the hell out of dodge. Easy enough.

"I could wash your hair. You know I know how to." Steve replied, a genuine offer, not a throwaway or handout that was just a kind gesture.

"No, Stevie, you don't need to worry about m-"

"Checkmate, I already do. You lock yourself in here except for food, I don't even feel like you're enjoying yourself! What's the point in breaking out of hell, fighting tooth and nail, just to sit in your room? C'mon Eddie, let me do one thing to make your life easier." Steve was interrogating him, but for his own good? And only two weeks ago he thought Steve was just some highschool douche that he just had a little crush on once upon a long time ago. Here he is, caring for him like they've known eachother for years.

"You do enough for me." Eddie hid the blush building on his face by looking to the ground across from Steve. Steve just moved his head there.

"I want to do more. I'm offering to do more."

"You're not going to let me say no, are you?"

"It's your hair, your body! But no, not really."

"Let's go," Eddie said, swinging his legs carefully over the edge of his bed.

And that's how Eddie ended up in a T-shirt and boxers, head laying back in the kitchen sink. He hadn't really gotten to the standing-for-long-periods-of-time point of recovery, so Steve pulled up a stool and a towel for Eddie's shoulders, and got ready to work above his head.

"I'll tell you when to put your head back, don't want to freeze you with the water."

Steve turned the faucet to the hottest setting, then throttled back a little. He carefully took Eddie's hair out and brushed through the ends. It had been in a bun for ages, so at least it didn't get knotted.

"I don't really know much about how curly hair works, but-"

"Oh me either," Eddie interrupted. "Barely even knew I had it. Don't worry about me big boy, no special treatment needed."

"Oh you're getting special treatment, whether you like it or not," Steve said. "Tilt your head back."

And so Eddie did. And he would be flat out lying if he said that he didn't love how gentle Steve's hands felt running across his scalp. He would be lying if he said he didn't like being pampered, just a little. He would be a liar if he told you that this wasn't somehow sensual, or that he wished it had more meaning.

Something about the way Steve was massaging his scalp made him think there could be.

"I'm gonna block your forehead from the water, just warning you." Steve used a cup to get the water to the base of Eddie's scalp, he was thorough with the details and everything.

It made Eddie feel loved. That's new.

Eddie nearly blacked out until it was done. He just soaked it all in, feeling cared for. He had felt cared for before, but never loved, not by someone who wasn't obligated to.

"Why do you do all of this for me?" Eddie truly wanted to know.

"Why shouldn't I?" He replied, as if it was nothing.

"Nobody does." Eddie wanted to say more, but now wasn't the time to throw a pity party and cry in front of Steve Harrington.

"All the more reason to."

"Harrington," Eddie tried to sit up as he talked, "you don't-"

Steve pushed him back down by the chest, conditioner and water soaking into his shirt.

"Don't strain yourself, seriously. Let me rinse this out, then you're free to go back to whatever you were doing." He left one hand on Eddie's chest, not keeping him down, but just resting there. Like he forgot about it, but it felt intentional.

Eddie dragged his hand up to Steve's on his chest.

"Thank you. Really," was all he could muster up without those tears rushing back.

"Of course, Eddie. Wouldn't rather be anywhere else." He continued to work around the ends of Eddie's hair, slowly turning the water off and doing some final slow scrunching motions with the towel not around Eddie's shoulders. "You're all done. Let me help you up."

Taking Eddie's hand in one of his and lifting from Eddie's back, he got Eddie sitting up right. The hand on his back let go, but not the hand in Eddie's.

"Well? Anything you usually do that I can help with?" Steve asked.

"You've done enough," Steve got ready to cut him off, but Eddie beat him to the punch, "I can't do any more without bending over, which is off the table. Seriously, Stevie, you've done more than enough. You've been insane amounts giving and patient with me. You've given me enough."

"I wish I could give more."

"I know."

"I could give more." Steve offered, ready to give all he had in the world.

"Steve," Eddie said, some type of begging look in his eyes, "I don't want to read too much into this but you've offered me more than I could reasonably take. You've given me sanctuary, food, care, what more is there?"

"Love."

Steve laid it all out on the table. All he had left to give was hope that Eddie would take it.

"Can I kiss you?" Eddie asked.

"Please."

And when Eddie took it, it was magical. Just for a moment, all the pain, and bad memories, and nightmares, they just stopped. Suddenly, for a second of time, their was no ring of pain around Steve's neck, no searing, or scorching, or stabbing in Eddie's sides.

Maybe Eddie won't live in Steve's house forever, but he might live in this moment forever.

~~~~~

Thank you to @warlordess for giving the prompt in the comments of my last post! SO sorry it took so unbelievably long, but my show finally closed! Everyone, feel free to leave any prompts in my asks from now on! All of my previous posts as well as this one will be on AO3 soon, then I'm going to make a pinned post with my account! Thank you all so much for the patience you graced me with, hopefully it won't happen again!

#steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve stranger things #eddie stranger things #steddie blurb #steddie drabble #steddie fanfic #steddie ficlet #stranger things #st4 spoilers #st4 fanfic

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steddieunderdogfics · 18 days

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This week’s writer spotlight feature is: @thefreakandthehair! With thirty-nine works in the Steve/Eddie and Stranger Things tags on Archive of our Own!

In an underdogfics first, we have TWO nominators!

Our first nominator recommends the following works by @thefreakandthehair:

this is my month, I can feel it. october, baby!

never been afraid of any deviation.

scar-crossed lovers.

the answers are all inside of this.

Our second nominator, @sidekick-hero, recommends the following works by @thefreakandthehair:

over the hills and far away

meeting you was coming home.

make no plans and none can be broken.

rounding third, sliding home.

what's mine is yours (to leave or take)

Lex's brain is full of very creative scenarios, reading her writing is like reading an anthology of short stories but it's with all of your favorite characters! You get to see what they'd do in this AU or that AU, I love the exploration. It's like she's made a stew and it's simmering on the stove and you realize you're so hungry for stew as soon as you see it. <3 -- anonymous

Lex writes characters that come to life on the page while you're reading her stories. It makes it so easy to get invested in them, to feel with them and root for them to get their happy ending. She's one of these authors I would follow anywhere, any trope, any setting and universe, I am here for it. So I think more people should get to find her stories and be treated to the magic. -- @sidekick-hero

Below the cut, @thefreakandthehair answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

How can I possibly give just one reason! These two burrowed themselves into my brain like little gerbils with no hope of ever getting them out. I mean, was I supposed to hear ‘dontcha big boy?’ and be normal about it? But in all seriousness, they’re two sides of the same coin and those oppositions in character are super fun to play with!

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

It was tough to choose, but friends to lovers keeps coming up!

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

If I have to choose a particular trope, hurt/comfort would be the closest fit, but in the sense of healing past hurts together as a unit.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

This question sent me into an existential crisis and the best I could do is narrow it down to three, and even that was nearly impossible. In no particular order: We’ll Know For The First Time by KikiZ; carve your name into my chest by hexiewrites; and more recently, Among the Wildflowers by ParadimeShifts.

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

Rivals to Lovers in my football AU! I’ve been so excited to get moving on that one.

What is your writing process like?

Oh, I wish I had a better one. I start with a skeleton outline, pop on some music, and then pick and choose which part of the outline sparks joy in that moment. I rarely, if ever, write chronologically so I just write what feels good in the moment and then go back with a scalpel to create connective tissue.

Do you have any writing quirks?

Definitely writing out of order, I think! And if there’s one thing about me, it’s that someone is gonna have an introspective moment looking up at the stars. Someone told me it’s like my calling card and they’re not wrong.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

I like a bit of both. I like to post on a schedule for multi-chapter fics but only after it’s either completely done or mostly done so that there’s no pressure to it.

Which fic are you most proud of?

Over The Hills And Far Away incorporated some personal bits of my past that were equal parts cathartic and difficult to write at times, so I’d have to say that one! It’s really satisfying to take experiences that you regret or that didn’t end the way you’d hoped and give them a different ending in fiction.

How did you get the idea for never been afraid of any deviation?

The Eddie Month prompt for that day! Me and my co-mod for the event, nostalgicbones, included Bad Reputation by Joan Jett as a prompt and as I was listening to it, it got me thinking about how Eddie is someone who cares for those in less than ideal situations— maybe even to the point of weaponizing his own bad reputation to protect someone. In this case, that was Steve!

When writing the answers are all inside of this, what was something you didn’t expect?

I didn’t expect it to become multiple chapters! That one is part of my So Much For Stardust series (that I haven’t forgotten about, I’ve just been busy with big bangs) so it was based on The Pink Seashell interlude from the album. I still don’t know exactly how a 1-minute interlude turned into a 15k multi-chapter fic, but it was super fun to let go off the rails!

What inspired scar-crossed lovers?

Also a So Much For Stardust series fic, the first one in the series, actually. I heard Heaven, Iowa for the first time and wrote this based on that song in a day. My brain just kept rotating it around like a rotisserie chicken until I wrote it.

What was your favorite part to write from scar-crossed lovers?

This is ironic because I’m not an angst-writer by nature, but writing about the slow deterioration of Eddie’s van as a symbol for the passage of time was really fun to do. Bittersweet, but it was one of those things that I didn’t realize I was doing until I was in the middle of it and once I realized, I just carried it throughout!

How do/did you feel writing never been afraid of any deviation.?

Excited! It was the first time that I wrote pre-s4 steddie (which is wild that in two years, I just wrote that for the first time last fall?) and it was so fun to do!

What was the most difficult part of writing the answers are all inside of this.?

Probably balancing the kids’ voices in the first chapter while still creating tension between Steve and Eddie.

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

It isn’t one of the fics listed here, but in no better version I could pretend to be tonight, I loved writing the line “Something about Steve feels like home, and Eddie is only familiar with houses.” Hurt/comfort, my beloved.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

I’m planning on taking a break from big bangs for a bit to focus on some super neglected WIPs, so there are a few upcoming fics I’m excited about! My Football AU, an ASMR Artist!Eddie x Insomniac!Steve AU, and I’m working on a fic called Pickup Note with sidekick-hero and firefly-party that I cannot wait to dive into fully.

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

Just thank you so much for all that you do with this blog! The ship truly exploded overnight and there are so many incredible stories that I’ve completely missed just because they’ve fallen through the cracks. I really appreciate what you’re doing here and the undertaking that it’s been!

Thank you to our author, @thefreakandthehair, and our nominators, anonymous and @sidekick-hero! See more of @thefreakandthehair works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

#steddie #steddie fic recs #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things #steddieunderdogfics #writer's wednesday #writer's spotlight #steddie writers

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eyesofshinigami · 2 months

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Staring Problem

Rating: G

CW: None

Tags: Pre-relationship, kisses, humor

Prompt: For @starryeyedjanai "Love is when you look at his lips for half the conversation because you can't stop thinking about kissing him."

WC: 837

Written for Day 28 of @steddielovemonth

Eddie’s trying really hard to concentrate. Really, he is. It’s just that… Steve has the most kissable looking mouth of any person he’s ever met.

Okay, so. Eddie usually has a bit of trouble keeping his focus. Some days he feels like a ping pong ball, zinging back and forth between one thing and the next. It takes a lot of effort for him to slow down and just… pay attention, even to the things he loves.

Like Steve. Usually, Eddie can focus on Steve. Puts a lot of effort into it, really. He never wants Steve to feel like he isn’t listening to what he has to say, or that Eddie can’t give him the attention that he so rightly deserves. Because Steve is like the sun, beautiful and bright and he makes Eddie feel like he’s lighting up from the inside out.

Today, though… Eddie’s really having a hard time. Maybe it’s because Steve’s mouth looks particularly pretty today. His lips are full and a little pink, like he’s been biting them. A little slick, too, if the way the light is playing off of them. It’s making Eddie think about other reasons why Steve’s lips might be a little slick, but he knows that’s a pipe dream. Steve wouldn’t want Eddie like that.

So, sue him. Eddie couldn’t help it. Anybody would stare at Steve’s mouth and wish they knew what the shape of it tasted like.

“Eds? You in there?” Steve teases, breaking him out of his trance.

He jolts. “Huh? What?” Heat crawls up the back of Eddie’s neck and blooms over his cheeks. He’s been caught. “Sorry, I guess I’m spacy today.”

Steve licks over his lips and the heat gets worse. “No more than usual,” Steve says, but it’s sweet as much as it is a tease. “What’s on your mind?”

Nothing you want to know about, I’m sure, Eddie thinks to himself. “Nothing, really. Sorry, man, I didn’t mean to zone out and not listen.” And it’s true. Eddie loves listening to Steve. He could listen to him ramble and watch his mouth move all day long. One of the few things that Eddie finds that can keep him still, keep him quiet, in a good way.

“Well, I’m sorry I distracted you so much.” Steve’s mouth curves up in a smile, stretching those lips in the most delectable way. He might actually kill Eddie with that smile alone, which is why it takes an extra moment for Eddie to realize what Steve said. It must show on his face, his panic, because Steve adds, “You’ve been watching my mouth all morning, Eds. Is there something you want?”

No. No way. There is no way that Steve could be asking him that. Eddie must be dreaming because in what universe would Steve Harrington be asking Eddie if he wants to kiss him. Wait… that is what he was asking, right? “Like… like what?” Eddie whispers, scared that if he speaks too loud, it might pop the bubble of whatever alternate universe he’s ended up in.

Steve leans in, his warm breath ghosting over Eddie’s mouth. “Like you want to kiss me as much as I want to kiss you.”

Yup. Eddie’s fried. Stick a fork in him, he’s done, because there’s no way he hasn’t died and gone to some kind of heaven. “Fuck, really?”

“Yeah, really. Your mouth is so distracting. Now, you gonna kiss me or what?”

Eddie wants to say my mouth?? But it gets lost when he surges forward and closes the distance between them. Months of longing culminating in a single, wonderful kiss that thrills him all the way down to his toes. Steve must feel the same because he shifts closer, brings their bodies together, and the tip of his tongue teases at Eddie’s bottom lip, seeking entrance.

They kiss for what feels like hours. Lips moving, tongues sliding together, their bodies moving against each other as they learn the shape of the other. It feels amazing. It’s so, so good.

When they finally break apart, both of them are breathing hard and staring at each other like nothing else in the universe exists. A single, perfect moment that Eddie never wants to end.

“So? Everything you wanted?” Steve teases, but Eddie can see the thread of tension in his face, the way his smile wobbles at the end. How could it not be? Steve is everything he wants and more.

“Dunno, think I’m going to have to keep kissing you to make sure. And no one else can either, don’t want to cause a bias in my sample.”

It’s the dumbest thing he could have said, but it makes Steve laugh, that ridiculous donkey laugh that shouldn’t be as cute as it is. So, all Eddie can do is grab Steve by the collar to haul him in for another kiss.

Now Eddie guesses he can stare all he wants at Steve’s mouth, will probably get to kiss it anytime too.

Sweet.

#steddie #steddielovemonth #les writes things

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dreamofbecoming · 9 months

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here we are at last! there have been a bunch of posts lately about how neither eddie nor robin have any gaydar to speak of, but steve canonically does, and also vickie definitely left fast times paused on purpose as a flag, and frankly all of you are just so objectively True and Correct that i had no choice but to write about it. parts 1 and 2 not strictly necessary for context but definitely set in the same universe

part 1 part 2 ao3

platonic stobin, rockie, steddie

rating: t

wc: 8.4k (holy fuck it got away from me)

---

Robbie isn't drunk yet, but she's getting there.

Honestly, Steve should probably slow her down, but what the hell. They're celebrating, after all. He'll cut her off in a bit, but she deserves to have some fun. They all do.

It's been three weeks since Eddie got out of the hospital, one since he was finally let off bedrest. Or, not exactly bedrest, but enough restrictions that he was basically confined to the trailer (brand new, courtesy of Owens and his goons), and from the way he complained the whole time you'd think they had him chained to the bedposts.

Hm. Maybe thinking of Eddie chained to bedposts isn't the best use of Steve's time. Not here, anyway. That's a Later activity.

It's the first house party any of them have been invited to since Spring Break, thrown by one of Robin's band friends. None of them planned on going, except that two days ago a frantic call came over the All Hands channel on the walkie that El had finally broken through, Max was awake, and the doctors thought her arms and legs would eventually, almost, make a full recovery, granted with lots of physical therapy.

Apparently the only useful thing Vecna ever did was break her bones at right angles so they could set them cleanly. Her vision will probably never fully return, but she's alive. She's alive, and she's awake, and she's apparently being a complete menace to the nurses, which is more comforting to Steve than any of the rest of it, so how could they ask for anything else?

Steve still feels like he's taking his first real breath after drowning every time he inhales. He's not sure he'll ever stop feeling this relief. It's so sharp it's almost painful.

So they're at this party, and they're celebrating. There's a real celebration planned, of course, with the whole Party and assorted extras, Murray (ugh) and Jonathan's California friend (who seems nice), Joyce and Hopper (and isn't that a trip) and Eddie and Wayne (Eddie read him in immediately, to no one's surprise) and everyone else. They've got plans to descend on Steve's house as soon as Max is allowed out of the hospital, where they'll presumably trash his mother's nice white carpets and eat through his snacks like locusts and enrage his neighbors with their shrieking in the pool. Hopper and Wayne will fight over who gets to work the grill until Joyce gets fed up and takes over and Eddie will commandeer the sound system and Robin will laugh at Steve for frantically switching between Host Mode and Lifeguard Mode until she finds someone big enough to sit on him and make him eat something. He can't wait.

But for now, they're at this party, and they're celebrating. With someone else's alcohol, which is a nice treat for Steve.

He's leaning against the wall by the kitchen doorway, sipping something Robin made him that tastes like paint thinner and looks like undiluted red food dye. He's surprised it hasn't eaten through the bottom of the cup like that green gunk from the elevator. He doesn't quite feel like joining the crush of people in the living room. He's felt a little off since Spring Break, a little lost inside his head. He knows Robin can tell, but she hasn't pushed him, other than dragging him here tonight. He's so grateful for her he thinks he could cry.

He doesn't, though, he just watches her from the kitchen doorway, squished on a couch between Vickie and who he thinks might be one of Eddie's bandmates. He recognizes him from those nights he would pick the kids up from Hellfire at the school, and also from Eddie's hospital room. He's got fluffy hair and a flannel shirt around his waist. Gary, maybe? Garth? Steve's not sure. He'd introduce himself and find out for sure, but apparently, carrying Eddie's bleeding not-quite-corpse on his back into the hospital and throwing around his father's name until someone agreed to treat him before collapsing in the lobby from his own injuries wasn't quite enough to erase the contempt for King Steve, so Steve's been mostly avoiding those guys. Eddie swears he's working on it. Steve...should maybe care more than it feels like he does. He thinks maybe a lot of things should feel more...more, than they do. But that's a problem for Later Steve. It's fine. He's fine. He's handling it.

He watches Robin, and she's laughing, and she's not quite drunk yet, and he's glad for her. This is what he wanted. This is what he wished for, on that flipped over bucket, in that field. That they'd all get through it. That they'd all get to keep smiling and doing stupid teenager shit. He maybe wishes he felt a little more like someone who wanted to do stupid teenager shit and a little less like someone watching his friends have fun from behind a plate-glass window, but he'll take it. Whatever he can get, he'll take it.

He looks back at Robin, and, huh. She's still laughing, but now she's between Eddie and Maybe-Gary-Maybe-Garth. He follows Robin's less-than-subtle (crimeny, this girl, he's gotta teach her a goddamn poker face) longing gaze and sees a flash of red heading for the back door.

This feels like a chance to do something useful. Robin will be ok, Eddie will keep an eye on her.

He follows Vickie out the back door. He finds her leaned against the back of the house, her eyes closed, her head tilted back. She's smiling. She really is pretty, Steve can see why Robin likes her. God, he hopes he's right about her. Either way, he's determined to find out. It's what Robin deserves.

"Hey, Vickie. Come out for some fresh air?"

Her smile gets bigger when she turns to him. He really hopes he's right about her, she's a fucking sweetheart. He hopes he isn't about to do something hugely stupid. Knowing him, he probably is, but also knowing him, he's gonna do it anyway.

"Hey Steve! Yeah, I was just getting a little warm in there. How about you? Smoke break?"

"Nah, I'm trying to quit. Robin hates them, she keeps stealing them out of my mouth, so it's somehow more expensive and I don't even get to smoke them. Easier to just stop. Which is probably her goal," he laughs.

"You and Robin are pretty close, huh?"

"Oh yeah, platonic soulmates. With a capital P!" He makes an incredibly dorky gesture with his hands, and has to stop himself from facepalming. Great going, dingus.

Still, Vickie's smile gets a little wider, which he thinks is probably a win.

"That's why I came out here, actually. I wanted a chance to talk to you." Her eyebrows go up. Always with the goddamn eyebrows around here. "Not, like, in a creepy way! Or, well, I guess that's what a creep would say, but I swear I'm not! I just meant, because Robin really likes you," shit, too much, "I mean, she likes hanging out with you, and she's my best friend and all, so I wanted to. Um. Get to know you better. You know. For Robin."

"...For Robin."

He groans. "I swear I didn't used to be like this. I used to be able to talk like a normal person. I didn't know that was a skill you could lose! I would have worked harder at it!" She's laughing at him now, but at least she's polite enough to hide her giggles behind her hand. That's something.

He sighs, and throws his head back to take a deep breath and try and come back to his body, like Robin showed him. Having therapist parents sounds like a nightmare to Steve, but it has its uses, he guesses.

He looks back at Vickie, who is watching him with what seems like more amusement than concern, so he's taking that as a win. If she's laughing, she's not running away. He sticks his hand out.

"Hi, I'm Steve. You're really important to the most important person in my life, so I'd really like to be your friend." He tries to give her his most winning smile, but honestly he's a little worried his teeth are still red from that godawful drink.

She grins at him, still definitely laughing at him a little but more genuine than before, and shakes his hand. "I'm Vickie, and you're really important to someone I hope will become really important to me, so I'd love to be your friend."

He doesn't breathe a sigh of relief, but it's a close thing. King Steve decided to stay in tonight, apparently, so he's on his own, and boy oh boy is he worse than he remembered.

"So, new friend, what do you want to get to know about me?"

Thank fuck Vickie's carrying so much of the weight here, honestly.

"We could, uh, talk about movies?" Jesus Christ, where did all the goddamn Harrington Charm go, anyway? Did Vecna eat it?!

There go the eyebrows again. He's cursed, he really is. "Movies?"

"Yeah, you know, I work at a movie store. Or I did, anyway. With Robbie. Pretty sure it went under in the quake though. That or Keith just fired us and didn't bother calling to let us know." He laughs awkwardly. He's doing fucking everything awkwardly, honestly. He hasn't even asked the question yet and he's already sweating bullets. No wonder Bobbie was so scared to confront this head-on. "Anyway, it can tell you a lot about a person, you know. Their favorite movie."

Come on, take the bait. Take it.

She nods seriously at him. "Oh I get that for sure, you can learn a lot about someone by their favorite book. I used to volunteer at the library and there was always gossip about who checked out what romance novel and whether that meant their marriage was on the rocks, you know?" She giggles, hiding behind her hand for a second. "I guess it was kind of mean, but we never said anything to anyone outside the library, and never to their face, you know? It was just something to keep us entertained on slow days."

Fantastic, he can work with this.

"Oh totally, I completely get it. Robs and I did the same thing at Family Video, making up stories about what we imagined people's lives were like that they were renting Casablanca and Gremlins on the same night, you know? Like, what does that evening look like? Which one do they watch first?"

She laughs. Perfect. She took the bait, now he's just gotta reel her in. Or something. He's never been fishing.

"You know, I usually rent my movies from Family Video. Did you guys ever look up my rental history?"

Aaaand, got her!

"You know, I think we did, actually, not that I'm helping the creep allegations," he winks at her. She slaps him on the shoulder. There we go, there's the Harrington Charm. Jesus fuck, where has it been all night? Sleeping?

Moment of truth, here we go.

"Fast Times At Ridgemont High, right?" He keeps his eyes on her face while he says it. He needs to see how she reacts.

She's been watching a raccoon rummaging through the neighbor's trash, but as soon as he mentions the movie, she whips her head around and looks at him sharply.

She studies his face intently in the glow from the floodlights above the garage. Whatever she finds, the fear in her eyes fades just slightly to caution. All good signs.

Fuck, this is harder than he remembers. Talking in code and reading all the subtle little shifts in body language involved in this conversation is stretching muscles in his brain he's forgotten he had. His friends these days all just sort of...say whatever they mean, straight out. He thought it was weird and off-putting at first, but now that he's doing this dance again, he's realizing he hasn't missed it.

The things he does for Robin, honestly.

He can see the moment she decides to trust him, even though she's still tense. She takes a deep breath, like she's gearing up for something. "That's a good one, for sure. You know, I think I maybe forgot to rewind it the last time I returned it? I paused it at my favorite part, but I think I got distracted and never finished it. I hope that doesn't cause too much trouble for you guys at your job. I'd hate to be one of those customers."

Jesus, this chick is brave. She's basically just coming right out and saying it! Holy shit, he's about to get Robbie a girlfriend! Ok, ok be cool. Bring it home, nice and easy.

"Nah, not a problem at all. Besides, I think I remember that tape, and we have the same favorite part, I think. All three of us." Fuck he hopes this isn't a mistake. If he just fucked up and outed Robin for no reason he'll- fuck, he doesn't know what he'll do. Ask El to open the gate back up so he can throw himself into it, probably.

Vickie's eyes go wide. "Robin too?" There's something like hope in her voice. He thinks. He hopes, anyway. Maybe he's just projecting, but he really thinks he's been right on the money from the start. He just needs to prove it to Rob and give them both a push.

"Yeah, Robin too. Now me, I like Fast Times a lot, but I also really like The Outsiders, you know?" A truth for a truth. Nothing is free, he remembers this dance. Trust is always earned.

He didn't realize her eyes could get any bigger, but somehow they do. Slowly, a grin spreads across her face. "Really? Uh, me too! Those are...both...really good movies, you know?"

"Totally!" He's grinning now too, he can't help it. He's so excited for Robbie he might explode. This is the most alive he's felt in weeks!

"Not Rob, though, she loves Fast Times, but not so much The Outsiders. She can be, uh. Pretty nervous, you know? To talk about her taste in movies. I think she might be worried you don't like Fast Times as much as she does, but I know she really wants to, uh, watch it with you. So you might have to be the one to, you know, tell her how much you like it, and maybe ask her to watch it together?"

He's getting lost in the metaphor here. That's clear enough, right? Robbie isn't going to believe him about Vickie liking boobies unless she walks up to her and tells her "I like women, go out with me," in very small words, so he really hopes he got the message across. He needs Vickie to take the wheel on this.

Luckily Vickie is nodding enthusiastically. "For sure! I can do that!" She's halfway back to the house, almost tripping over her feet, before she looks back at him sheepishly.

"Oh no, I'm sorry, that was so rude of me, I just got so excited and I wanted to-"

"Hey, no worries, that was the goal, right? This is what I was hoping for when I came out here to talk to you. She, uh..." He shouldn't. He should stick to the code, just in case, he should be careful, it's Robbie's life on the line here.

But it's also her happiness.

"She didn't believe me. About the Fast Times thing. And then we ran into you at The War Zone, and she was totally convinced I was wrong, but I knew I had to ask. Just in case. I just really want her to be happy, you know?" There. He hasn't actually said the words. If it goes sideways, they still have plausible deniability.

And then, well. There's always Plan B. He doesn't exactly want to burn Vickie's house down, but he will. For Robin, he'll do anything.

Vickie is smiling softly at him. She really is sweet, she and Bobbie are gonna be so cute together. He can't wait to tease them into oblivion.

"I'm glad she has a friend like you, Steve."

He scrubs a hand across the back of his neck, feeling weirdly self-conscious. "Yeah, well, you know. You've got a friend like me, now, too, right?"

There's that bright smile again. "Right!"

"Alright, go on. Go get your girl."

Good lord, redheads sure can blush, huh?

He waits a couple of minutes before heading back in himself, enjoying the night air. It's not quite the height of summer yet, so the evenings aren't as muggy as they'll be in a month or so. For the first time since he crawled out of that gate with Eddie lashed to his back with the remains of the rope ladder he cut to protect Dustin, he's feeling the breeze on his skin without feeling like he's wrapped in plastic, like there's a wall around him, keeping from being part of the world. He wants to savor it, in case it goes away again.

When he does make his way back in, he almost trips over Robin, who's grabbing what should probably be her last drink. At least it's just a beer this time, if it was more of that awful concoction from earlier he'd probably take it away from her, pouting be damned. They could have flambéed Vecna with that shit, nobody should be putting it in their bodies.

Her face lights up when she notices him, and she flings herself into his arms.

"Oof, shit, Buckley, doing ok there? You having fun?"

"Sooooo much fun, Stevie!" She nuzzles her face into the crook of his shoulder. Yeah, if she's this cuddly in public, this should definitely be her last drink, especially if Vickie wants to make any kind of move tonight. She's not usually this touchy outside of the really bad nightmare nights. "Missed you though. Where'd you go? My bubba disappeared."

"Aw, Bobs, I was just outside getting some air, I promise. I didn't go anywhere."

She shakes her head stubbornly, her nose dragging along his collarbone. "Noooo, you left. Not now, before. After. In the hospital. We all came back but you left. You went inside your big stupid fluffy head and you don't come out anymore. I miss you."

It's a good thing Robin's face is still hidden in his shoulder, because he can't quite keep his expression from crumpling. He hasn't meant to hurt her, he hasn't meant to hurt anyone, he swears. He's trying, he wants to come back, wants to be normal again, he just...he feels like part of him is still stuck at the bottom of Lover's Lake, watching everyone above him on the surface moving on and living life, but not able to reach them.

He holds her tighter to his chest, petting her hair. It's a mess, like when she first wakes up in the morning. Maybe she fell off the couch or something while he was outside.

"I'm sorry, Bobbin-bird. I didn't mean to go away. I'm working on it, ok? I promise," he murmurs reassurances into her hair, trying to erase the sadness he can hear in her slurred words. He's shit at talking about feelings, especially his own, but not with Robin. Never with Robin. Saying true things to Robin isn't any harder than thinking them to himself, and honestly that's basically the same thing. They pretty much only have the one brain between them.

She pulls back, studying his face closely with bleary eyes, squeezing his cheeks between her hands. "Promise?"

"I promise, Bobbie." He tries to project as much sincerity as he can muster. She's edging past tipsy, but not actually drunk yet, so she should remember this moment just fine tomorrow, and he won't have to do it again.

Who he is kidding? They're definitely having this conversation again tomorrow. Maybe he can distract her with teasing about Vickie. Where did she go, anyway?

Robin grins, apparently satisfied for now. "Good!" She smacks a kiss to his forehead and finally lets go of his face. Thank god. He loves her, more than anything in the world, but she's a goddamned sweaty drunk.

Before she can say anything else, a redheaded streak comes stumbling into the kitchen.

"There you are! I've been looking everywhere for you!" Vickie leans on the kitchen counter, trying to catch her breath.

Steve looks to Robin to see how she'll respond, and, oh. Well, shit. Robin is...frozen, apparently. She's very obviously focused on Vickie, which is good, because otherwise Steve would be having trouble with flashing back to Nancy's thousand-yard stare in the Upside Down, or the whites of Max's eyes, but the part of her brain that lets her, you know, say and do things, appears to have shut down.

Looks like it's Steve's turn with the communal brain, lucky him. Time to step in and save this, if he can.

"Vickie! Hi, you know, I was just wondering where you ran off to? I was about to tell Robin to track you down, to talk about that movie we talked about earlier, but it looks like you found us instead!" He jams an elbow into Robin's side as subtly as he can, but she still doesn't move.

Vickie is looking between them, still breathing a little heavy. "Yeah, I went looking for you as soon as I came back in, but Gareth said-" Gareth! That was it! "-you went to the bathroom, and did you know there are six bathrooms in this house? Who needs that many bathrooms? I think Angela only has one sibling, why would anyone need six bathrooms for four people? That's so crazy! Anyway, I'm glad I found you, Robin. I'm, uh, getting a little overwhelmed with all the people out here, so I was hoping you might want to find a room that's maybe a little quieter, so we can talk a bit? Just the two of us?" Damn, this girl's got guts. Steve likes her.

Robin continues to stand in front of the fridge like the world's prettiest scarecrow. Come on, babygirl, you can do this! He elbows her again.

"Vickie! Hi! Steve, Vickie's here! Hi!" Steve and Vickie both startle a little because, wow, ok, volume, Buckley, damn. Still. Progress.

"Sure is, babe. Tell you what, why don't I take this-" he plucks the unopened beer out of her slack hand, "-and you and Vickie can go sit down somewhere quiet and talk about movies, huh?"

Robin blinks at him owlishly. "Movies?"

He's about to make another veiled reference to the boobies conversation when Vickie blows all of her air out of her nose and stomps one foot like that one girl in the Chocolate Factory movie who reminds him of his cousin Shauna.

"I'm sorry, I can't take it! I just spent ten minutes outside talking to Steve in ridiculous codes and another ten minutes running up and down the stairs in this insane house and I'm exhausted. I can't take the metaphors anymore. Sorry, Steve, no offense."

"Hey, none taken. It's pretty exhausting, you're not wrong. I just had to be safe."

She shakes her head. "No, totally, I completely understand. I appreciate it. I'm just secret coded-out tonight, you know? Robin, do you want to go upstairs with me and talk? I have something to ask you and I'd really rather do it in private, I don't really want any of these people listening, you know?" She waves her hand at the open doorway to the living room, which is still packed with people.

Robbie's head has been bouncing back and forth between them like she's watching a tennis match, eyes wide.

"Huh? Me? What?"

Oh geez. She's shorting out.

"Bobbie, look at me." She meets his eye, and he can see the nerves threatening to overwhelm her. "Trust me?"

She nods. "Uh huh. 'Course, bubba."

Well that warms him right up, but it's not about him right now. "Good. Go with Vickie, babe. It'll be good, I promise." He hopes he can promise that, at least. He's pretty sure he can. And if it goes bad, they always have Plan B.

Vickie holds out a hand, and Robin stares at her like it might bite her, before taking it gingerly. Both girls immediately burst into bright red blushes, and under any other circumstance he would laugh at them, but this is a delicate moment. They need him to be cool. He can be cool. He can be so goddamn cool.

Vickie leads Robin out of the room and towards the stairs, both of them still blushing like crazy and refusing to meet each other's eyes, and Steve can finally let out the breath he's been holding in a whoosh and slump back against the counter. He snags a bottle opener off the fridge- neat, it's got a magnet on it!- and pops the top on the beer he stole off Robbie.

“Well I hate to break this to you, King Steve, but she’s definitely about to steal your girl.”

Steve freezes with the bottle at his lips.

He sets the beer down on the counter and very carefully turns around. Munson is alone, thank fuck. This is fixable. He can deal with a single person. If it had been a crowd, or fuck, god forbid, someone like Gareth, who hates him, and might try and use this? Hurt Robbie to hurt him? Well, he's got his nailbat in the trunk, and he isn't afraid to use it, but he doesn't think Hopper would be thrilled to have to bail him out of jail.

"Whatever you think you heard, Munson, if Robbie gets hurt, it won't matter that you're one of us now. I'll finish what those bats started. I won't be happy about it, because you're a pretty cool dude and I like hanging out with you, but I'll do it for her if you make me." He makes sure his voice is low and even, and he meets Eddie's eyes head on. He wants to be very clear, this is not a joke. He will defend her if he has to.

He doesn't think he'll have to, not from Munson, but he isn't 100% sure, and he's taken enough risks with Robbie's safety tonight. He doesn't trust his luck enough to count on it working out a second time in less than an hour.

Munson's eyes go wide with shock- he clearly wasn't expecting Steve to meet him with quite that much aggression. He puts his hands up in surrender and leans back away from Steve.

Steve fights not to be distracted by the way his torso curves, graceful in a way he has no right to be with his wounds still scabbing over. Not the moment, Steve. Get it together, for fuck's sake.

"Hey, whoa, easy big guy. We're cool, man. Stand down."

There's a tense moment where they just...stand there, sizing each other up, unsure where to go from here.

Eddie tugs a lock of hair in front of his face, nibbling on it nervously. It's cuter than it has any right to be, honestly.

"I didn't- uh. Fuck, man. Please tell me I didn't just tip you off to flirting you didn't notice. It would suck so, so bad if I exposed Birdie without her knowing."

Steve takes a moment to consider this, frankly absurd, situation. He holds up a finger for Eddie to wait a minute, and checks both ways down the hallway outside before closing the kitchen door and leaning back against it to keep it shut. At least now it'll definitely just be the two of them, which is one more than should be having this conversation, but he doesn't see a way out of it, so this will have to do.

When he turns back to Eddie, he looks even more nervous than before.

"I'm perfectly aware of the flirting, considering I'm the one who went out of my way to set them up tonight. You didn't out anyone, and I should have been the one to make sure the door was closed before I got them in a room together, so it's not your fault for finding out. You understand you can't say anything to anyone, ever, though, right?"

Because he's apparently doomed to be accosted with eyebrow raises from everyone around him anytime he says anything at all until he dies, Eddie's are lost somewhere under his bangs. He looks...impressed. Huh, that's kind of nice. Steve resists the urge to preen.

"'Course, man, I'm well-versed in the code of silence." Something in his face softens, and Steve can feel the sincerity in his next words. "Birdie's a friend, and Finnegan seems like a real sweetie, I wouldn't ever want to hurt them like that. Cross my heart." He does, in fact, draw a cross on his chest with one long, ringed finger. What a dork, holy shit. Steve wants to put that finger in his mouth.

"I have to admit, I didn't expect you to be so cool with something like that. In general, but also especially since you and Buckley are, y'know." He waves his hand expansively around his head, the kitchen lights glinting off his rings, and Steve has to fight the urge to bat at it like a cat with a laser pointer. Jesus Christ, Harrington, focus. The man just called you a homophobe, get your shit together.

He decides, very magnanimously, he thinks, to ignore the homophobe bit, honing in on the rest. "Me and her are...what, exactly?"

"I mean, aren't you guys like, a thing?" Oh Jesus fuck. Not again.

"Ugh, no, where the hell do people keep getting that? Robin and I are just friends, ok? Platonic soulmates. Capital P!" He throws his hands in the air in frustration.

"-capital P," Eddie choruses with him, "I know, I know, I just, shit, man, I dunno, I figured you were..."

"Were what?"

"...Lying? Shit, that sounds worse out loud, sorry! I just mean, because, you know, Henderson keeps saying-"

"Oh, well if Henderson says it, it must be true," Steve rolls his eyes.

"Well fuck me for trusting the kid who calls you his best friend, I guess!"

They glare at each other across the room for a minute, before the ridiculousness of this moment catches up to Steve and he drops his chin to his chest, huffing a laugh.

Eddie looks confused, and still nervous, and a little incredulous. Also a lot adorable, but that doesn't feel relevant. "Ok, I'm so lost, man. I just came in here for a beer, and this has been an emotional rollercoaster I was unprepared for."

Yeah, that about sums it up.

He hasn't spent much time with Eddie since he woke up, spending those weeks juggling babysitting duties and his own injuries and helping with the relief effort and sitting vigil at Max's side. He popped in on Eddie when he was in the building for Max, but the Munson room always had someone in it- Wayne, or Dustin, or Mike, or one of the Corroded Coffin guys- and Steve always felt a bit like an intruder. So he hasn't had a chance to feel out the suspicions he formed during that surreal week when everything was still in the process of exploding, and honestly he's been feeling a little too distant to work up the energy to bother. Robin's bugged him about it once or twice since March, but he shrugged her off each time and she hasn't brought it up in a while.

Ah, what the hell. It's already been such a weird night, and Steve is honestly feeling better than he has in weeks, and he wants to ride this high wherever it'll take him.

Emotional rollercoaster, huh? Well, Steve can make that worse.

At least Eddie hasn't seemed homophobic, kind of the opposite, actually. That's a good sign if Steve's ever seen one.

He pushes off the door, stalking toward Eddie with intent and digging deep inside himself for whatever remains of the person he used to be, who could drop panties with a single look. Eddie's eyes go very round, and he stumbles back a little into the counter.

"You know, Munson, I've had a question I've been meaning to ask you for a while now. Haven't found a good moment."

"Oh yeah?" Eddie's voice comes out in what can only be called a squeak, and Steve feels powerful. That rush of confidence he hasn't felt since BN (Before Nancy) fills his chest, and he can feel his grin turn sharp. "Ho- uh." Eddie clears his throat. "How long's a while?"

Steve purses his lips, relishing the way Eddie's eyes drop down like he can't help it and his cheeks flush, and pretends to consider the question. "Oh, since Skull Rock, probably."

"O-oh? That's. Um. That is a long time." He's still staring at Steve's lips. Good. "Well, shoot, Stevie-boy. Ask away."

Steve lets his smile spread across his face slowly, keeping Eddie's eyes where he wants them. Yeah, he's still got it. Like riding a bike.

"Do you wear this bandana on purpose, or is it just a fashion statement?"

Eddie's eyes snap up to meet his own, shocked.

"Wh-what? Bandana? I. Um. What?"

"Are you flagging, Eddie?" Steve doesn't back up, toe to toe with Eddie as he reaches out and tugs lightly on the hanky trailing out of his back pocket, as always.

He may not have had the energy to talk to Eddie about it yet, but his curiosity did get the better of him after the "earthquakes," and he did dig out that zine where he originally learned about the code. He knows what a black hanky in the back left pocket means now. It's...a little daunting, but not a turn-off. Not at all. Kind of the other thing.

God he hopes Eddie knows what it means.

Eddie seems floored by this line of questioning. He's bright red and sputtering, his mouth opening and closing without saying anything. Steve lets himself stare. This'll go however it goes, but he's not ashamed. He's no more embarrassed to want Eddie than he would be to want a girl, which is to say, not at all.

"I- you- what? What? You- you know what flagging is?" He hisses the end of the sentence in a harsh whisper, so much like Robin did when he first told her about his crush that he can't stop himself from giggling.

Wrong move, since Eddie clearly takes this personally, and his expression shutters closed. Whoops.

"Hey, hey, no no no, none of that, hey. I'm sorry, I wasn't laughing at you, I swear."

"Right, sure, I believe that, considering there's nothing goddamn else to laugh at in this kitchen, Harrington." Eddie is glaring at the floor, arms crossed defensively across his chest.

Alright, maybe he gets what Vickie was saying earlier. Fuck the codes, fuck the metaphors. He can take Eddie in a fight if he has to. He's a simple guy, ok? He just wants to use his goddamn words.

Robin would be so proud.

He goes slowly, telegraphing every move so Eddie can stop him if he wants. He reaches for his hands where they're tucked into his elbows, gently easing them out until they're clasped between them.

He takes the opportunity to finally feel those rings he's fantasized about, seeing if they're as cool as they look. They aren't, they're warm from Eddie's skin. He spins one of them around Eddie's finger with his thumb, transfixed.

Eddie still looks tense, but now instead of hurt and distrust on his face, he looks like Steve hit in him in the head with something heavy. His pretty eyes are so big, blown completely black as he stares at their joined hands.

"I'm sorry I laughed. I was remembering the first time I told Robin I had a crush on you," Eddie's head snaps up again, "and she sounded exactly like you did just now, with that angry whisper voice. It made me laugh, that you guys are so alike. It makes sense, I guess. She's my favorite person, so of course I'd like you, when you're like. Not the same, I guess, but kinda a similar flavor of weird. She says I have a thing for nerds, y'know?"

Eddie blinks at him for a minute, apparently speechless. Some nerves start to creep back in, since the brief miscommunication scare burned out most of that white hot King Steve confidence in his chest. They must show on his face, because Eddie visibly shakes himself and finally opens his mouth.

"You have a crush on me?"

"Yeah, man, since the Upside Down, pretty much. The first time."

"Don't call me man when you're telling me you have a crush on me!"

Steve has to laugh at the comically offended look on Eddie's face. "Sorry. Do you prefer Eds? Baby? Big Boy?"

Eddie is so red Steve is surprised his face isn't steaming. He yanks one hand out of Steve's grip to smack him in the chest. Steve laughs and lets him, dropping their still-joined hands down between them and tangling their fingers.

"You're a fucking dick, Stevie. Can't believe I like you."

Steve grins at him, big and hopeful. "Yeah? You like me, Munson?"

Eddie shoves at him with a groan, but doesn't let go of his hand. "Pretty sure everyone in this town likes you, King Steve. It's like a rite of passage, or something."

Steve feels like he could walk on air, he isn't even going to get fussy about the King Steve thing. They can talk about that later. Eddie likes him! Eddie has a crush on him! He could fight a demogorgon with his bare hands right now, that's how powerful he feels.

Eddie gets quiet after a second, tugging a curl in front of his mouth again. Seems like a nervous tick, maybe. Steve notes that for later. He may not be much of a reader, but he's going to learn to read Eddie Munson like a book if it's the last thing he does.

"I thought, um. I kinda...hn. Ugh."

"Gonna need more than that, baby, I'm not fluent in Munson yet." That glow in his chest picks up a little again at the way Eddie flushes so pink and pretty at the petname.

"I thought you were straight." It comes out all in a rush, the words mumbled and slurred together through his hair.

Finally, it's Steve's turn to raise an eyebrow. Take that, universe! "You meet a lot of straight guys who know what the Hanky Code is?"

Eddie shakes his head in wonderment. "Still can't believe The Steve Harrington knows what flagging is."

He's about to reply when the kitchen door flies open with a bang that sends the boys leaping backwards away from each other. Steve finds himself braced between Eddie and the door, brandishing the bottle opener from the fridge in front of him like a knife. He doesn't even remember grabbing it.

Robin is standing in the doorway, eyes wild and hair frizzing out around her head in a way she would despise if she was sober and not obviously preoccupied with something else.

"Jesus, Robs, you about gave me a heart attack, what the hell?"

"Sorry bubba, not important right now!"

He rolls his eyes. Of course not. Just his trauma that could have made him stab her if he hadn't caught himself, nothing major. This girl, he swears.

"Dingus! Focus!"

"Focus on what, Bobs?"

"She wants to kiss me, Steve!"

His eyes go wide. Thank fuck the door bounced off the wall and swung back shut behind her. That's not something to shout to a party full of gossipy strangers.

Still. This is a big moment! "Bobbie! What'd I tell you, huh?" He picks her up around the middle, swinging her around while she cackles wildly and bats at his shoulders.

"Put me down, you lunatic! Steven Elizabeth, you put me down right now, or I swear I'll never speak to you again!" She's laughing too hard for him to take her seriously, though.

He does take pity on her and set her back on her feet, stealing one more tight hug. He's so happy for her he could scream. This night has turned out better than he could have imagined.

"Tell me everything! What happened! What did she say? What did you say? How was the kiss?"

"Well we didn't actually kiss yet, exactly."

"Wait, then how do you know she wants to kiss you?"

"She told me! She said she thinks I'm really pretty and funny and smart and she's like you! She likes both, and she says her and Dan are done, like for real for real all the way done, and she held my hand, Steve! And she wants to go on a date! And she said she wanted to kiss me!"

"That's awesome! I'm so happy for you, Bobs. What did you say when she said she wanted to kiss you?"

"I came down to tell you about it, obviously."

Oh, Bobbie, what the fuck. "Robin James Buckley. Do not tell me that a pretty girl tried to kiss you and you ran away and left her upstairs!"

The situation finally seems to register, and Robbie's hands go flailing around her face the way they do when she's overwhelmed.

"Oh no! Steve! Oh no!"

"Go, you insane person! Go back upstairs right now and kiss her this minute! Go!"

He physically herds her to the door, at which point she finally notices Eddie, who has been standing in the corner where Steve shoved him behind him when the door crashed open, watching them like he's wishing he had popcorn.

Fuck. Steve was so excited for Robbie he totally forgot he was here.

Robin's body goes rigid and all the color drains out of her face all at once.

Steve grabs her by the shoulders. "Hey, Bobbin, eyes on me, ok? Eyes on me." She finally drags her eyes away from where she's been staring at Eddie in horror, and Steve's heart breaks at the fear on her face. "It's ok, Bobbie, I swear to god it's ok. I was right, alright? I was right about him, we were talking before you came in. He's safe, I swear. We're safe, Bobbie, I promise I'll keep you safe."

"I promise I won't say a word, Birdie. Friends of Dorothy gotta stick together, right?" Eddie pipes up from the corner, stepping forward slowly and carefully, hands out front like he's approaching a skittish animal.

"You're- you're like u- me?" Oh, he loves her so much. Still protecting him, just in case.

"It's ok Bobs, I told him about me. I was about to get a kiss of my own before you came in, I think, actually."

Eddie jumps on the opportunity to cut the tension, ever the showman. Steve likes him so goddamn much. He grins impishly at Steve, that wide pretty mouth stretching out until those dimples Steve can't wait to kiss appear on his cheeks.

"Oh, you were, were you? Pretty presumptuous, Stevie-boy. Who says I kiss on the first date? Maybe I'm not that kind of boy."

"Oh, wow, ok, this is gonna be a lot to deal with, huh? Alright, I'm glad I'm not getting hate-crimed, and I'm glad you're finally doing something about your big gay crush, Dingus, but if you'll excuse me, I have a girl to kiss, and also I want to be far away from," she waves a hand between them, "whatever this is. Good luck boys, don't kiss in unlocked rooms! Vickie says she can give me a ride home, so I'll call you in the morning, bubba. Love you bye!"

She's out of the room like a shot, hopefully back up to Vickie, who he hopes is prepared to get used to this kind of thing. There are so many things to love about Robin Buckley, and honestly, this is one of them, but he can see why she might be an acquired taste. He thinks anyone who doesn't acquire that taste is a moron and not worth knowing, but he can see how those people might exist.

"Love you too, Robs!" he calls down the hallway, closing the door behind her and leaning back against it. It's not a lock, but as long as he doesn't move, it'll do. And given that Eddie appears to have found his confidence and is leaning over him, bracing his arms on either side of Steve's head, he doesn't think he'll have to move any time soon.

Unless someone needs the kitchen, but they've been doing just fine so far, so they can burn that bridge when they come to it, or whatever people say.

He reaches down to toy with Eddie's belt loops, tugging him close and grinning up at him through his eyelashes, privately thrilled at the novelty of being shorter than his partner for once. Granted, he's slumped down the door a little, but still. It's nice. He can see why girls like it.

Eddie comes closer easily, resting their foreheads together. He reaches down to fiddle with a lock of Steve's hair and Steve feels like leaning into it like a cat getting its ears rubbed.

Lot of cat feelings tonight. He's not sure what to do with that.

"So.”

“So.”

“Steven Elizabeth, huh?"

Steve can't help but laugh, the tension broken once more. "Yeah, Rob's idea. We switched. Steven Elizabeth and Robin James. So we always have a piece of each other."

"Jesus H Christ, you guys are fucking adorable. This shit is why everyone thinks you're dating, though, you know that, right?"

"Ugh, yeah, I know. I don't actually mind, I mean, I should be so lucky, you know? And she's like. My person. My most important person. And we're probably gonna get married someday just so we can be each other's next of kin, and because it's not like she could marry whoever she ends up with anyway, or me if I end up with a guy, so it's like, why not, you know? I'd be building my life around her anyway, might as well make it legal.

"It's mostly just annoying when our friends don't believe us, because like, we're honest with you guys. Maybe not all of it, like Robbie isn't ready to be out and that's fine and she shouldn't have to be, but it kinda sucks that, like, Dustin thinks I would lie to him, you know? Because I wouldn't. Not about something real. Not when it matters. But he doesn't believe me, and that just. I dunno, man."

"It hurts."

"Yeah."

"I get that. You've been through a lot for these kids, you've put yourself on the line for them, you've given up a lot for them, and when they don't believe you about something like this, it feels like they're saying they don't trust you. Of course that hurts."

Steve swallows down the tears that want to fall. Now isn't the time for vulnerability like that, not in a stranger's crowded house. Still.

"How'd you do that?"

"Do what, sweetheart?" Oh, sweetheart does something to him. If this is how Eddie felt when he called him baby earlier, the blush makes more sense.

"Figure out exactly what I'm trying to say, and make it make sense. Usually only Robbie can do that."

"I dunno, maybe Birdie and me share a brain. Or maybe you and I just make sense to each other."

Steve flattens a palm against Eddie's chest, feeling the soothing thump beneath his hand. He did that. He put his hands on Eddie's chest and his mouth on Eddie's mouth and broke Eddie's ribs and didn't stop until that rhythm started up again. And now Eddie's here, and Eddie's heart is still beating, and Eddie hears him when he talks, and Eddie is looking at his lips again, and Steve suddenly can't go another second without kissing him.

He trails his hand up Eddie's chest, over his neck, savoring the way his breath hitches and the pulse under his palm speeds up. He keeps going, pushing his fingers into that thick riot of curls, already making mental notes of the products he's going to buy for Eddie because Jesus Christ, they're dry.

He tugs, and again, Eddie comes easy. It's not an earth-shattering kiss. There's no tongue, and their noses are a little smushed, and the angle is a little off, and he's kissed enough people that he can tell Eddie probably hasn't, but none of that matters.

He told Robin, back in that field, that he was holding off feelings he knew he would have for Eddie when all was said and done. He knows now he was right, and he's done holding them off. Has been done for a while, maybe.

He doesn't know where this is going, or what Eddie wants, or how they'll manage being two guys in a town like Hawkins, or what their friends will think. If they'll even tell their friends. What he does know is that he wants to find out the answers to all of those, and he wants to find them out with Eddie, and he wants to keep kissing Eddie, and also that he can't keep kissing Eddie here.

He pulls back, pecking that dimple finally, partly to reassure Eddie that he isn't running away and partly because he's wanted to for weeks, and pulls the kitchen door open, checking that the coast is clear before grabbing Eddie's hand and dragging him towards the front door.

"Where we going, Stevie?"

"You drove here, right?"

"Sure did. You want a ride somewhere? I thought you drove Birdie."

"I did, but you've got your van, don't you? Your van with doors that lock and a big open back seat?"

Eddie's eyes go wide, and he flails a little, just like Robin. It makes Steve smile.

"Yep! Yes, yeah, hell yeah, I do have my van, my van with those things, let's go! Chop chop, time's a-wasting! Your chariot awaits!" And he's off, doing that dorky little run for the driveway.

Steve grins, and puts his hands in his pockets, and follows his boy out into the night.

#stranger things #platonic stobin #steve harrington & robin buckley #rockie #rovickie #robin x vickie #robin buckley x vickie #idk what their ship tag is sorry lol #steddie #steve harrington #robin buckley #vickie stranger things #eddie munson #bisexual steve harrington #(eddie is bi too fyi but it doesn’t come up)#my writing #i believe with all my heart that steve’s strategy for nicknaming robin is just a handful of b’s and whatever vowels he finds in his heart #gareth absolutely interrupts them in the van when he wants to go home #and he’s so goddamn annoyed that now he’s going to HAVE to learn to like king steve #because it was one thing when he saved eddie’s life and they were friends now #that could be a one off #but if he likes eddie enough to make out with him in the driveway of a crowded party #he’s in this for the long haul #and that means gareth has to get used to him and learn to get a long #godDAMMIT eddie!#did i make steve go through a depressive episode because i took a break between this part and the last one and lost his voice?#how dare you insinuate such a thing (yeah lol)

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im-robins-bitch · 3 months

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Hii,

If your up for it could u write a fruity four x reader imagine based off of the song tongues and teeth by the crane wives where reader runs into a ex that used to treat them horribly and made them believe that all they could do was hurt other people triggering those old feelings leading them to pull away from Steve, Eddie, Robin, and Nancy

(Sorry for the long ask 🤍)

Poison (fruity four x g!n reader)

Or, You run into your ex and find yourself reflecting on your past self, do you deserve the love you find yourself surrounded with? (3.4k)

Anon, Sorry this took so long, I love the Crane Wives sm I was really excited by this request so I wanted to make it perfect and then it accidentally got really long and filled with irrelevant scenes that I had to scrap and will probably be posted at some point. I hope you like it lmk <3 Thank you so much for the request

Reader was in a toxic, abusive relationship (No scenes of this relationship and it is only briefly mentioned that it was abusive). Reader in this fic was mentioned to be an asshole in the past, but it's up to you whether she truly was or if she just thinks that bc of their ex.

Warnings: mentions of toxic, abusive relationships. Reader thinks she deserved to be hurt, the ex now has a baby. Ex threw things at the reader. Food, depictions of cooking and eating.

“You remember the voices Eddie taught you?”

Steve sighs into his bowl of lucky charms, stirring the spoon around restlessly. His cereal had gone soggy, something he hated, but he hadn’t had a single spoonful since he sat down.

“I remember,” He mumbled, looking at the milk in his bowl as if it would conjure up all the answers of the universe for him. You rub a warm hand up and down his back to try and soothe him, it works, a bit.

Then Eddie's head is poking over Steve’s shoulder, eyeing Steve’s bowl in a way that you know means trouble. Instead of the usual playful spat, that always ends with Steve reluctantly sharing his bowl of cereal, Steve passes Eddie the spoon without argument.

Eddie kisses his cheek sweetly, rubbing his nose into the chub of his cheek before digging in. “Wanna give us a taste?” Eddie questions, mouth full.

Steve’s cheeks are pink as he shakes his head, his perfectly styled hair not moving an inch. You can taste all the hairspray he’s used this morning. You keep your warm palm against his back, hoping some of it will seep into his bones and make him a little less tense.

He’s been like this all week and you know he won’t be able to relax until the day is over. Getting a placement at a kindergarten had been all Steve had talked about all year, all he had been looking forward to. Now it was happening, he was terrified.

Today was make or break, it was his first attempt at a storytime.

He had spent a long time researching books with Nancy and had rehearsed reading the book to you and Robin and had practised his voices with Eddie. You thought all this made him overqualified for the position.

There couldn’t be a person out there who cared so much about this. It was just Steve all over, he cared so much. He loved so much. It made you want to swaddle him in your arms and keep him safe forever.

“If any of those punks make fun of you let me know and I’ll kick their ass,” Eddie garbled around another mouthful of lucky charms.

“You think they’ll make fun of me,” Steve worried, his first clenching around the countertop.

“Eddie!” Nancy chided. Eddie almost lept from his seat at Nancy’s sudden appearance. She stood in the doorway, as perfect as ever. Brown briefcase held tightly in her hand, her blazer hanging perfectly on her small frame. “You’re overthinking this Steve, it’ll be fine,” Nancy assured, kissing the top of Steve’s head. “And for the last time Eddie, no kicking children,”

“Some kids deserve it” He argues.

“Ready?” Nancy asks you, ignoring Eddie, much to his annoyance.

You cast a wary look at Steve, you were reluctant to leave him alone like this, but you were the girl’s lift to work, so you had to trust Eddie would find a better way to comfort your boyfriend than his current tactic.

“Ready” You confirmed, checking your reflection quickly in the toaster.

Nancy pressed a kiss to the back of Eddie's head, eyelashes fluttering against his frizzy hair. Then she moved to Steve, lips lingering a little longer on his cheek.

“Ro-”

“Here!” Robin yelled, interrupting Nancy’s call of her name. She had a reputation for being late that she was trying to put behind her.

“Let's go!” Nancy sang, holding your arm in one hand and wrapping her other around Robin’s waist to pull her towards the door.

“Good luck Steve!” The three of you called together.

You’re still thinking about Steve and wondering how his story time went as you’re organising the vinyl at work. You wonder if you should call him, trying to remember when the kid's nap time is so you can get him on the phone. You don’t want to interrupt, but you can’t help but worry about him.

In between thoughts of Steve, you’re trying to keep track of which ABBA albums need to be restocked.

You’re so busy thinking of ways to celebrate or cheer him up in case of disaster, that you miss the chime of the bell.

“Still working here huh?” You freeze at the familiar voice, all thoughts leaving your mind. The one voice you wished you’d never have to hear again. “Some people just aren’t meant to change I guess,”

You stand up, brushing off the dust on your knees. You hate how you’re immediately flooded with embarrassment. “Can I help you?” You ask in the friendliest voice you can muster.

They take it in offence, hands held aloft in surrender, “Hey, I didn’t mean anything by it, you really haven’t changed at all,” They laugh, your heart beating faster in your chest at the sound of it. You hate how they still have such an effect on you.

“Did you want something?” You ask again, colder this time. Letting the hatred you feel seep through. Your arms, crossed over your chest, erupt in goosebumps. You can feel your heartbeat like it’s in your ears, pounding again and again. It’s an effort to remember how to breathe without it sounding rugged.

You were both bad for each other, that’s what you settled on after the fact. They would tear you to shreds and act as if you were the one in the wrong. You could be just as cruel, the relationship was a toxic one and it turned you both sour.

It took so many nights of talking and looking back on the relationship to realise that you didn’t need to be the person they painted you to be. You hadn’t been perfect, no one was, but you felt you had learnt from your mistakes and hoped they had done the same.

“Thought we could have an adult conversation, but obviously not,” They sneered, tone condescending.

They looked around the store you’re usually proud of with disdain. “God, I’m so fucking glad we broke up,” They laugh, flicking the sleeve of a vinyl, making you scowl. You feel the same but it doesn’t make it hurt any less. “My life has been so much better ever since you left it,”

It’s like a dagger to the chest. If you were in your right mind, maybe you would wonder why if they felt like that they would seek you out. Especially since they don’t even bother to buy anything before they leave.

When Robin had last seen you, you were pushing her out of the car, trying to stifle your giggles.

In her rush to get out of the house on time, she forgot her scarf. You had bundled her up in your own which looked ridiculous. Eddie had knitted it for you, but then he got so caught up in seeing how long he could make it that when you wore it, it went down past your knees.

You thought it looked great, but it was a bit of a tripping hazard so when it came to Robin you wrapped it around her neck over and over until it was an appropriate length. Only she couldn’t move her neck to look down. You had been laughing at her the whole drive, much to her annoyance.

Now all she wanted was for you to look at her and laugh, but you didn’t even spare her a glance when she walked into the house, or when she unspooled the long scarf from around her neck.

You’re still in your work clothes, even though you must have gotten home an hour ago at least. The TV is playing credits, but you’re watching them like they’re the most interesting thing you’ve ever seen.

All she wants to do is touch you. She restrains herself though, she knows people don’t always want to be touched and it can make things worse.

As if you can tell that she’s about to ask you something, you change channels and turn up the volume on the TV. You lean against the side of the sofa, further out of her reach and feign interest in a Miami Vice episode.

Getting the message she leaves you to it and joins Steve and Nancy in the kitchen, who are chatting over the kitchen counter. Nancy has already started making a pot of soup.

Steve is dutifully making grilled cheese sandwiches and plain slices of toast. They work in unison, Nancy passing Steve the butter before he even needs to ask, Steve wrapping one arm around her hip when he joins her on the hob, warming up the pan so he can toast the bread.

He’s left two cheese toasties to the side, to be grilled when Eddie gets home.

“Not waiting?” Robin asks, catching the pair's attention. Nancy smiles, wordlessly passing her wooden spoon to Steve who accepts it without question. She holds Robin tightly in her arms, pressing kisses to her cheeks. She didn’t realise how much she needed a hug until now and how much better it would make her feel after your rejection.

“Thought some food might cheer everyone up,” Nancy explains, nodding towards the living room. Robins nods, squeezing Nancy back, hoping she won’t let go of her anytime soon.

“Did she say anything?” Steve asks, looking away from the soup briefly.

Robin shakes her head sadly and Nancy makes a sympathetic noise in her ear, rubbing her manicured hand up and down Robin’s back. “What about you?” Robin asks Nancy.

“Nothing,” Nancy sighs, pulling away from Robin when she realises that Steve has stopped stirring her soup. She bats his hand away and hip-checks him out of the way, deciding to take charge again. At least that's something she has control over.

The rest of the dinner is made in relative silence, Robin sets out the cutlery on the living room table, along with everyone’s preferred drinks. At one point Robin can tell you’re about to make an excuse not to eat at all, but a raised brow from Nancy has you sinking to the floor.

Robin’s eyes have been nervously flickering from her soup to you. She’ll see your lips part for a moment like you’re about to say something, but you close them just as fast, swallowing down soup and tearing at your bread.

You all eat hunched over the living room table, Eddie is missed even more than ever as silence haunts the table. No one can work out what to say.

You can feel yourself putting a dampener on everything but feel so shaken from the interaction this afternoon that it’s all that you can think about. You’ve heard people say their exes were the worst things that happened to them, but you never thought you would have been one of those.

Had you truly been that bad?

When Nancy leans over to grab your hand you smile at her or attempt to. Then when she lets go your hand sinks off the table and down to your thigh out of reach.

What if one day they thought about you like that? What if one day they’re glad that you broke up? They continue without you, happier without you.

It’s then that you remember, to your horror, all about Steve’s story time. The cake you had planned to buy him in celebration. How could you be so selfish, forgetting about something Steve had been worried about for so long?

“How did story time go?” You ask, timidly.

Robin and Nancy are patient, but Steve has never been. He’s going out of his mind with worry. Perhaps it's because he’s suddenly lost a girlfriend before. Thought she had loved him the way he loved her until she pulled the rug out from under his feet and told him it wasn’t working and that they were nothing.

It took so long for him to come back from that, even though he’s over the girl who said it, he still occasionally fears that all this love could be fleeting.

He smiles, abandoning the last of his toastie to thread his greasy fingers between your own. They slip against your hand and when he squeezes, he tries to push as much love into it as he can. “It went really well,”

“Yeah?” You ask more enthusiastically. Steve’s smiles have always been contagious. The pretty curve of his smile and the movement of his freckles as his cheeks apple, it’s the kind of smile that makes you believe in love at first sight.

“Mrs Lemon wants me to read again tomorrow,” Steve grins.

Everyone at the table erupts in excitement at Steve’s news. Robin drops the last bit of her toastie into her soup and has to fish it out with her spoon, fingers turning red in her attempts. Nancy's hand rubs up and down Steve’s thigh, in congratulations for his good news and for bringing you out of your melancholy.

Robin has you hold up her glass to her lips so she can take a sip of water without getting her soupy fingers all over the glass. It causes her to dribble water all over the table and she can’t even find it in her to be embarrassed when it results in giggles and your fingers brushing across her chin to catch the drips.

When everyone finished you’re quick to gather everyone's bowls and dismiss any help. You want to feel useful after sulking on the sofa while everyone else has made dinner.

This whole weekend you had been a whirlwind of productivism. Unless Eddie was forcing you to sit on the sofa with his head in your lap, you were doing something for someone else. Any errand anyone was putting off was finished by you that weekend. You had gotten the juice stains out of Steve’s jumper, sewn up the hole in Robin’s jacket pocket, reorganised Nancy’s toiletry cupboard and buffed her briefcase. Eddie had to coerce you into a cuddle to stop you from sewing up the holes in his favourite socks.

He hadn’t attended last night's dinner but had heard all about it from a concerned Nancy and spent the whole weekend attached at your side.

He did everything one-handed, not wanting to spend a second not touching you. It was so out of character for you to be so withdrawn. Steve and Robin assumed it was a bad day or more specifically a bad customer.

Nancy and Eddie had a gut feeling it was something more important. You didn’t often keep things to yourself, you found talking about problems usually stopped them from bothering you so much. If whatever happened hadn’t felt fixable to you by a rant and a cuddle, something must have happened.

Eddie wanted to be there, ready, for when you wanted to tell him. He never wanted anyone to feel as alone as he once felt, drowning in his worries, before his uncle took him in.

Nancy, though claiming she was taking a more relaxed approach, glanced at you about every two seconds, checking your reactions.

So when you had said you needed to go out to the store, Nancy and Eddie shared a look and insisted they both needed to come with you. Eddie for some smokes and Nancy for a specific body lotion she claimed would be too hard for you to find.

They were so obvious it would be annoying if they weren’t so endearing.

You ended up in Bradleys.

You had been antsy to get in, buy the cake you planned to get for Steve on Friday and then transform yourself into the partner your lovers deserved.

Instead, Eddie had taken his sweet time driving you all there, even though normally he called the speed limit a suggestion. Then he convinced you that you needed to walk up and down each aisle to make sure you didn’t ‘forget’ anything. It would have been an accomplishment to forget anything when you only have one item to obtain each.

The basket hooked on one arm, you hooked through the other, Eddie was strutting down the isles bobbing his head along to the pop songs he ‘hated’. Even though Eddie’s reasoning was ridiculous, it did feel relaxing to take your time walking through the various aisles together.

Eddie’s fingers were tracing up and down Nancy’s spine as she held two types of tea in her hand, reading the backs carefully. “Do you think these work?” She asked, holding out the packages for you to inspect, two different teas both promising to help with sleep.

You took one out of her hands, to inspect the ingredient list. Robin’s mum had said something about lavender last time you had spoken, but you weren’t sure that was digestible.

“If you need help sleeping, I’ve got the perfect solution” Eddie teased, arms snaking around Nancy’s waist and squeezing as he dipped his face against her neck. Nancy shivered, feeling his cold nose trace her neck and his curls tickle her collarbones, the basket digging into her sides.

“Stop!” She said, trying not to smile, wiggling out of his arms and lightly slapping at his arms, “I can’t take you anywhere,”

Eddie pressed a wet kiss to her cheek. His arm went over her shoulder, grabbing the box of tea out of Nancy’s hand and dropping it into the basket. “Mrs Norris used to drink that one,” He explained, taking the other one from your hand to put it back on the shelf. “Always knocked her out cold when she was supposed to be babysitting me”

Nancy huffed, crossing her hands across her chest as Eddie encouraged you both to the end of the aisle, hands wandering. “You have no shame” She scolded, cheeks burning at the wink he gave her in response. Still, he dropped his hands from her but continued to lead you both down to the frozen section, in search of ice cream.

She stopped at a display of lip balms, letting the two of you go on ahead. Her gaze did not linger on his fingers curled around the basket handle, or the dip of his spine that his cropped band shirt exposed.

You were still smiling over Eddie as you watched him search the freezers for the giant tub of Neapolitan-flavoured ice cream. He always made a big display of it, sometimes he and Robin would compete to see who could keep their hands in the freeze the longest.

Nancy soon floated behind you, her floral perfume altering you to her presence long before she slid her hand into your own. She leaned into your space, so close you could smell the curl cream she and Eddie shared. The pair, despite their differences, had a surprising amount in common.

“How mad do you think he’ll be if we refuse to hold his hand when he gets the ice cream?” Nancy whispered.

“I think we’ll hear about it for the rest of the night,”

Eddie cranes his head, looking you both up and down conspiringly. He fished the last tub from the back of the freezer and dropped it into the basket with a thud. It crushes the flimsy box of tea, but Eddie’s attention is on the guilty expression you’re wearing.

He holds his freezing hands out expectantly, wanting you to come and warm him up after his valiant efforts of searching in the freezers.

Nancy shakes her head at him, but his doe eyes can’t hold you off for long so soon he’s holding one of your hands in both his. You flinch at his touch and he pouts childishly, lashes fluttering.

“I risk my fingers for you, and this is the thanks I get,” Eddie huffs at Nancy over the top of your head, “At least you love me, sweetheart,” He coos kissing the side of your head.

“You hardly risked your fingers,” Nancy says rolling her eyes as she tugs your hand to lead you down to the toiletries aisle. You think half-heartedly about the cake, vanilla and shaped like a heart, that you wanted to get Steve, but then think of the crushed box of tea, it might be best to leave it for last.

“I was very close to hypothermia,” Eddie dramatises, flexing his fingers against yours. You feel the cold bump of his rings, they’re usually cold but feel even more so after being in the freezer.

Nancy ignores him and walks straight to the body lotion, hand reaching out for her usual choice, but lingering on a couple of new scents. Strawberries & Cream sounds like it would smell pretty nice, plus the bottle matches her nails.

She picks it up, dropping your hand in the process and uncaps the lid to give it a smell. Eddie takes your dropped hand before it can even fall to your side, now, he threads his fingers through yours with a giddy smile.

He pecks a kiss on your nose catching you off guard and pulls you off to the side next to the baby powders, moving you away from an oncoming cart.

You lean in to kiss his own but are brought out of your lovesick stupor by a harsh cough. Eddie glares at the culprit, kissing your lips extra firm. The person coughs again and you push Eddie away from you and try to move out of the way, catching sight of the person coughing at you.

It’s always a shock to see your ex unexpectedly, it’s even worse when they’re with a beautiful partner and they have a child sitting in the cart tugging a little plush to their chest. It shocks you for about a million reasons, the most hurtful being that the entire time you had been together they claimed to never want children.

Yet here, in front of you, is the clear proof that they did.

“Nancy!”

It’s a small town, everyone knows everyone. Still, it shocks you that their new partner knows Nancy. You feel so different from your old self that a reminder of it is terrifying.

Suddenly you’re scared, what had your ex told them? How badly had they painted you? what if they tell Nancy?

The worst part is that if they were to tell her, it would have been entirely your fault. How could you be mad at someone for telling the truth? You hadn’t been the greatest partner in the past, but you were trying to make up for that. It felt like you had made up for that.

You make eye contact with your ex, who isn’t even trying to hide their disappointment at seeing you twice in such a short amount of time, still, it’s obvious by the conversation Nancy is getting into that they’ll be standing around for a while.

Your eyes try to look at everything, but the person who’s fucked with your head for the last couple of days. The child, old enough that it must have been born within a year of your breakup, hair a dark brown colour, coils around their shoulders. They look so happy, a picture-perfect family.

You excuse yourself, using the cake you need as an excuse to go to a different aisle. Eddie tries to go after you but is cut off by an old lady jamming her shopping cart in front of him with a rude huff, muttering about young people these days. She runs over his foot and he almost takes down the entire shelving unit when he backs into it.

When Eddie finds you, standing in front of an empty shelf, sniffing into your hands, he’s crushed.

The drive back had been awkward.

Nancy had found you both and sent Eddie to pay for everything while she took you to the car. You refused to cite anything but the cake’s being sold out as the reason for your tears, but it’s clear that there was something more.

It isn’t until you’re home, that the extent of your upset is clear. At the supermarket, you had clung onto Nancy and Eddie for life, feeling personally devastated at the thought of either of them leaving you.

Now leaving was all you could think of doing.

You had packed your bag, unpacked and re-packed it again. You just couldn’t get it out of your head, how much happier everyone might be without you. Your last relationship played through your mind like a reel.

All the times your exe had yelled at you, called you a bitch, the problem. You could be forgetful, self-absorbed, hurtful. You thought you had changed, but you had proved yourself wrong on Friday, ignoring Steve’s accomplishment to stew in your self-obsession.

There was a knock on your door, but it was a warning rather than a request as Steve and Robin barged in without waiting for a response.

“Are you ok?” Robin asked, skirting around your clutter to land on the bed, beside the duffle bag you were about to re-pack. “Actually no, I know you’re not ok, so don’t bother lying,” Robin huffed, pushing the fly aways from her face and staring at you in determination.

Her hands darted out to your sides, holding you firmly in place. On her knees, on your bed, she begged you to tell her exactly what was wrong, “You always feel better after talking to me, I can help you, whatever it is. If it’s working at the vinyl store we’ll get you a new job, you could come to work with me in the museum archives?”

“It’s not…it’s not that,” You stutter, fingers feeling tingly as your eyes dart nervously from Robin to Steve, who hasn’t moved from standing at the door. You can’t see his expression, but the vein on his neck is close to bursting.

I’m the problem, you think, but you’re all too sweet to realise and you’ll be too kind to tell me when you do work it out.

Robin’s nose bumps your sternum bringing your attention back to her. She presses a kiss to the swell of your stomach. Her hands are ever wandering, frantic in their need to comfort you, but unsure where to go. “You can tell me,” She promises, her sea-blue eyes boring into yours. Your eyes water as you try to think of what to say.

“You’re leaving,” Steve’s voice is cold, and his stare is even colder. He nods to the duffle bag on the bed, glaring at it with the heat of a thousand suns.

Robin looks at the bag that she hadn’t registered, shaking her head in disbelief, until she sees the crumbling expression on your face and realises it’s true. Her hands drop from your body and she darts from the bed like a person burnt. She brushes past Steve, rushing out of your room and you can hear her fast footsteps retreat down the hall.

“You…you don’t understand,” You try to defend, hands falling into fists in frustration.

“No, I understand,” Steve spits, arms crossed across his chest, muscles clenched, “You’re just like her, only so much worse,”

“Ste-”

“Don’t” Steve scoffs “You promised us you wouldn’t do this, promised me.” His voice breaks and he has to turn his face to the side, collect himself and wipe the rouge tears that he let escape.

You sink in on yourself, “It’s…it’s for the best, I’m…I,”

Steve laughs, fist banging against the door frame, startling you, you have to steady your hands on the bed to stop yourself from falling.

Your stomach lurches, it doesn’t feel right. You’re last breakup hadn’t ended like this, they hadn’t been mad at you for leaving, they had been mad you hadn’t broken up sooner. That they hadn’t been the one to dump you.

You fear you might have made a terrible mistake, but then remember what they had said when you broke up. That you were poison, that you ruined everything that you touched, how much happier they had been before you. Now you knew how much happier they were without you afterwards too.

They would thank you in the long run.

“If you walk out this door right now, I’m never going to forgive you,” Steve’s heart was cracking. Just like last time, he was caught off guard. His voice was stern, but his expression was heartbreaking.

“Steve!” Yelled Nancy, pushing past him in the doorway and walking over to you instead. Her hair was half dry, one side still dripping water onto the collar of her shirt.

Eddie, hair wrapped in the band shirt he had worn to the store, mirrored Nancy, only taking Steve into his arms instead of you. “Let’s all just calm down a second,” Nancy suggested, pulling you down to sit on her lap. She threw your duffle bag off the bed, sending it clattering into your wardrobe.

“Take a deep breath,” Eddie suggested, palm warm over Steve’s chest. Robin fiddled with Steve’s fingers, eyeing everyone warily. Steve matched his breathing to Eddie’s, lips wobbling as Eddie’s thumb wiped the sticky tears from his cheeks.

If you felt awful before, now you feel diabolical.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” You confessed, trying to push out of Nancy's soothing hold because you felt so undeserving. She had a surprising amount of strength though and held you firm against her chest, “I didn’t mean, I don’t want to hurt anybody, this is exactly what I don’t want, I just want you all to be happy”

Robin, tentatively let go of Steve’s hand, who Eddie was leading further into the bedroom. Nancy wrangled you so you were leaning against her where she sat against the headboard. Her head resting on your shoulder while her hand was rubbing up and down your back.

Robin sat down at the foot of the bed, hand reaching out carefully to rub at your leg. “Please can you explain? So we can all understand, why you want to…leave,” Robin asked, hardly able to say the word.

The bed dipped as Eddie sat himself down to the side of you and Nancy, but Steve still refused to sit, standing up with his thighs touching the bed, hand clasped tightly in Eddie’s.

You took a deep breath and tried to explain “I saw, my ex, first they visited me at work-”

Steve’s grip on Eddie white-knuckled as he scoffed, assuming the worst. You shrunk further back into Nancy making her glare at Steve who rolled his eyes. He was still sure you were about to rip out their hearts.

“Go on,” Nancy encouraged.

“He said, he was glad we broke up and at first I just thought, yeah me too, but then I started thinking and,I was awful,”

“Did you start thinking that? Or did he make you think that?” Nancy asked.

“Well, I mean, I guess he implied it and he always used to say it, like I would ruin things and he would throw things, sometimes, when I did something bad,”

Steve sat down on the bed, looking at you tearfully, “He would throw things at you?” Now he felt himself crying for an entirely different reason.

“It wasn’t- I was just as bad,”

“Did you throw things at them?” Questioned Robin.

You shook your head, “No, but I de-”

“I know you’re not about to say you deserved it, no one ever deserves that sweetheart,”

“I was an asshole, I was cruel and hurtful.” You explained, “You can say they shouldn’t have hurt me, but I hurt them just as much with every word I said. How can I deserve to be happy like this? I’ve been trying to change, but what if i can’t”

Steve feels a rush of sympathy through his chest. The anger that surged through his body turned from a fiery rage to a simmering heat, directed at whoever made you feel like this. He knows exactly how it feels to try to change, but not be given a chance.

To this day the title of King Steve follows him around like a bad dream. He’s taken responsibility for his actions and changed for the better, but for a long time, he wondered if it would ever be enough to make up for the hurt he had caused. Did he deserve the friendship Robin offered, that had led him down the path to this?

You gulped eyes starting to water. “I just don’t want to ruin things, I don’t want to hurt anyone I love again, I’m so sorry Steve, I already hurt you so much and if I stay I might-”

Steve shuffled forward, pulling you roughly from Nancy’s embrace into his own. His strong arms wrapped around you and his tear-stained cheeks stuck to your own. “The only way you could truly hurt me is if you left right now,” He pulled himself out of your embrace so he could hold his face in your hands.

“You deserve to be happy, you deserve a chance to change,” Steve promises, tacky lips pressing into the top of your head over and over again, trying to let it sink in.

“For the record, this version of you you’re describing, I don’t think I’ve ever met them,” Eddie says, palm firm as it rubs up and down Steve’s quaking back.

“But I- I forgot all about Steve’s big day,” You huff, voice thick with frustration.

“Honey, you spent the morning comforting me and asked me about it when you got home.” Steve placates.

“Not right away though, I sat on the sofa for ages, just thinking about myself,”

“Think that’s understandable after the run-in you had,” Steve’s hand keeps a warm grip on your cheeks, eyes softening as he kisses underneath your teary eye.

“Lovely, you’ve never made any of us feel anything but loved and I hope you feel the same about us” Nancy offered, stroking your shoulder with soft fingers.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I even thought about leaving I was just, so caught up and I wasn’t thinking properly.”

“Do you still want to?” Asked Robin tentatively, hands ghosting the sides of your leg.

You shook your head, lip starting to wobble, “I never wanted to, I just thought- I thought I had to,- Oof!” You exclaimed, Robin’s soft body dropping on top of you and Steve, squishing you down against Nancy, who took the weight like a champ.

Her arms winded around Steve, you and Nancy, squeezing Steve so tight he thought she might break one of his ribs. “I think as long as us five stick together, we can get through anything”

“Well said Buckley,” Grinned Eddie, reaching over to ruffle her hair.

Eventually, you all moved from your room into Nancy and Steve’s which had the biggest bed.

Nancy was removing the decorative pillows from the bed to place them on the ottoman instead. Eddie was helping, but his idea of helping was throwing them at Robin who was trying to dodge them while drinking the tea Nancy had gotten her at the store. A potentially deadly combination that required Nancy’s intervention.

Steve was with you in the en suite, the two of you hadn’t spent much time apart since the earlier misunderstanding. Steve had joined you in the shower while Nancy and Eddie finished drying their hair.

You had shared a bowl of ice cream, even though Steve didn’t like ice cream all that much anymore while watching the Documentary Eddie borrowed from the library for Robin.

Steve had just finished washing your face for you, letting you sit on the counter. Now you were brushing his hair for him. You started carefully combing it back with a fine-tooth comb, but now we're just using your fingers, styling it wildly to make him laugh.

You were currently attempting a mohawk with little success. He had one hand wrapped around his toothbrush while the other was holding your wrist, fingers pressing into your pulse. It felt good to be the reason Steve laughed instead of the reason he had been crying.

“I’m sorry Steve,” You whispered again, against his forehead, pressing a light kiss between his eyebrows.

“Already forgiven lovely,” Steve promised, bending his head to kiss your pulse point. “ but, please tell me what I did wrong” He murmured, turning bashful.

“What?” Now it was your turn to look at Steve in shock. “You didn’t do anything wrong?”

“Please, you can tell me, otherwise how will I not do it again?” Steve spares you a glance with eyes so earnest it breaks your heart.

Steve had felt so guilty since he heard your confession, you had thought that you would make them unhappy, in his head it translated that he hadn’t made it clear just how much he adores you.

“You didn’t Stevie, I promise. I was too in my own head” You kiss him gently “I still am, to be honest,” You confess smoothing his hair down behind his ears, kissing him once again for good measure. “I promise I’ll tell you next time I start spiralling,”

He burrowed his face in your neck, inhaling the smell of strawberries and cream. It scared him to think he would never be this close to you ever again, that he could lose out on all this. “God I hope there isn’t a next time, I love you, you make me- you make us so much happier,”

“Thank you for caring about me, I know it can be hard,”

“Caring about you is easy, it’s like breathing I don’t even have to think about it, I just do it”

“Stevie,” You mumble, tucking yourself against his shoulder, “You’re such a loverboy,” You peck him again.

After another five minutes of cuddling, you go into the bedroom and find yourself in a love pile on the bed.

Robin is smushed, out cold on top of you and Nancy. Nancy flanks you one one side and Steve is on your other, breath puffing against your neck. Eddie is wrapped around him, his heavy leg draped across you and Steve.

If he was ever right, about you being poison, you’re certain you’ve found your antidote.

masterlist

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steddieas-shegoes · 3 months

Text

steve pov

He felt the pull at the same point every night.

As soon as he'd managed to get himself into the shower, he thought about him.

He looked at his bottle of shampoo and thought about how it wasn't next to Steve's.

He looked at the body wash he shared with the guys and wondered if he would ever get to steal from Steve's body wash again.

As Eddie got into bed, he listened to the guys sitting at the front of the shitty tour bus they could barely afford joking around, planning their futures as rock stars.

He tried to think like them, tried to think about the future he always wanted. He was so close. They were so close.

They were recording their second album. Their first was barely professional, barely even got produced, but this one. This one would change everything for them.

The more time they spent recording it, the more Eddie realized he didn't want to be singing into a microphone if Steve wasn't there watching him with that look.

The look that said 'I want you to kiss me until we can't breathe when you get off stage' and 'I know every song is about me already, but let me help you write a million more' and 'I love you, I love you, I love you.'

The look that was fading from his memory with every passing day.

If he could go back to the conversation that led to this, he wouldn't have it at all. He'd stay with Steve, he'd tell the guys he needed some more time, maybe they could just go on a state-wide tour of some bars and see what happens. Maybe Steve would warm up to the idea of leaving.

Or maybe they were meant to share this distance, to grow apart like this, to yearn for each other in ways they didn't even when Eddie was almost dead on the ground of another universe and Steve was begging any god that would listen to just 'save him, take me, he can't die.'

And maybe tomorrow Eddie would call him. Maybe tomorrow he would ask if Steve wanted to come to a show.

Maybe tomorrow he could find a way to get that face looking at him from the front row or backstage again.

Maybe tomorrow he would get to admit to Steve that his dream doesn't mean shit if he isn't under the same lights as him.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #drabble #angst with an ambiguous ending #but you guys know if i were to continue it they'd kiss and make up and be in love #anyways i'm gonna keep being in my feels i guess tonight #sorry to steve and eddie and steve and eddie only #post breakup

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livwritesstuff · 2 months

Note

Just in connection to my reply to one of your posts with little baby Moe (Okay she wasn't a baby but you get it.)

I really, really need some scenes with the girls (all of them or one by one) where they tell Steve (and Eddie too) how amazing he is as a dad. Not as teeny tiny children but rather as teenagers or even as young adults. Just genuine love between them, no ulterior motives.

Because I feel like Steve NEEDS that too. Every now and then. I know parents always have moments where they feel like they've fucked up or that their children don't really like them. And I feel like Steve could spiral about these things on a bad day. Eddie telling him that the girls love him to pieces doesn't help a lot on these days, I believe (You can correct me since it's definitely your universe and your Steve and Eddie).

So I'm just asking, very VERY politely :))), what you think those moments could look like and what the girls would say or why Steve even feels like he failed them. (Okay that's a LOT I'm asking of you, I'm sorry.) Just see where the flow takes you, if it does.

Thank you thank you thank you 🥰🥰🥰🥰

HAZEL

Steve was home alone with the kids because Eddie was away for a few days of work meetings in New York. The second day of Eddie’s absence, Steve was hit with a killer migraine – his first really bad one in a while – so he set the girls up with a movie (a long one) to give himself a couple hours to try sleeping it off.

A while later, he woke up to an alarm blaring – weird, he’d thought in the moment because he probably wouldn’t have set a loud alarm for a migraine nap (seems a little counter-intuitive), but everything about his brain was foggy so who's to say.

Then, outside the door, he heard this exchange between his two oldest daughters.

Moe: Papa can turn it off.

Robbie: But we’ll get in trouble.

Robbie: It’s on fire.

Half-convinced he was dreaming, he got up and followed the girls into the kitchen where, yep, the microwave was on fire. All Steve really remembers is unplugging it and leaving it to the elements outside.

Turns out Moe had wanted to make mac and cheese (which she knew how to do – they’d actually been about to graduate her to toaster privileges until this incident) and it had been a fluke timer-based accident.

Eddie had thought coming home to a melted microwave in their driveway was hilarious, but Steve was seriously rattled about it because it was the first time he'd felt like something had happened because of a failing on his part. He shouldn't have let himself succumb to the migraine, he should have pushed through it to be there for the girls, but he’d let himself slip and then they set the goddamn microwave on fire.

The same day he got back from his trip, Eddie went out and bought a new microwave (even though it’s one of those purchases Steve would normally handle because he doesn’t trust Eddie for a second to not buy the dumbest appliances he can find), and he took all three girls with him so Steve could have a bit of time alone. When they all returned an hour or two later, the sheer volume and amount of excitement they brought with them pretty much confirmed for Steve that whatever microwave Eddie bought had way more bells and whistles than any person on Earth could possibly need.

Steve didn’t go downstairs to greet them and not too long later, the door to his and Eddie’s room opened, and then three-year-old Hazel was climbing into bed and snuggling up close to him.

“There’s a new microwave,” she told him in her matter-of-fact way she reported on everything that happened in her world.

“I know,” he replied, running a hand through her tangled blonde curls (unlike Robbie, Hazel’s tolerance for “hair time”, as they call it, is pretty much rock-bottom – her hair is more frizz than curls these days and Steve is figuring out how to cope).

“Daddy wants to turn the old one into a diagram,” she continued.

Steve furrowed his eyebrows.

“A diagram?” he repeated.

“He wants to put all the melted spoons in and make them look cool and put it on a shelf.”

Oh – also, no fucking chance. Not in Steve’s kitchen.

“I think he said diorama, Haze.”

Hazel nodded.

Then she said, “You were like a firefighter.”

Steve refrains from pointing out that he shouldn’t have needed to be like a firefighter in the first place (because that would be putting his own issues onto his children and he doesn’t want to do that), even though he knows it’s true. He should have been there.

“You’re the best dad ever,” Hazel continued.

“Yeah?”

“Uh-huh,” she nods, and she’s just as matter-of-fact now as she was before, and she’s sitting on his chest in a way that has her little knees digging into his ribs, which should hurt but instead feels like a tether to the real world he can grasp onto and pull himself out of his head.

“You think we should go check out this microwave?” he asks, starting to sit up.

Hazel nods.

“Alright, let’s go.”

MOE

When Moe was 21 – a junior in college in New York City – she and her best friend since kindergarten, Gray, started dating (finally, in Steve’s opinion, because he’d seen that coming for ages).

Steve and Eddie have known Gray for as long as Moe has, and they’ve watched Gray grow up nearly as much as their three daughters – as a kindergartener with freckles and dark brown pigtails, as a middle-schooler tearfully coming out as non-binary knowing they’d have to hide it from their family, as a high school senior, still with all those freckles, eager for the fresh start that college would bring.

It was nice to be for Gray (and for a handful of their daughters’ other friends over the years) something that Eddie and Steve had needed when they were their age – a place where they could be themselves without any consequences, a place where they didn’t have to hide, because sometimes, as was the case for Gray for many years, you have to hide. It’s nice to have a safe haven where you don’t.

During Moe and Gray’s senior year of college, the pair made plans to come home for their final spring break. When that first week of March finally rolled around, Moe called from the train to tell them that Gray was finally pulling the trigger – finally coming out to their parents, finally telling them about their relationship with Moe.

“Are they sure,” Steve had asked – not because he doubted Gray but because he hadn’t been too much older when he’d taken that leap for himself and he’d felt the subsequent loss of his parents like mourning a death.

“Positive,” he’d heard Gray reply.

Three hours after their train dropped Moe and Gray off at the Wellesley Farms station, Steve and Eddie heard the back door open. A moment later, Moe trailed in with something heavy in her eyes.

“How’d it…” Eddie started to ask from where he and Steve sat on the couch, but he stopped when Moe shook her head.

“Not over yet,” she told them, “Gray made me leave. It’s a fucking trainwreck.”

And even though he knew that was always going to be the outcome, Steve’s heart still sank.

“Damn,” Eddie commented while Steve shook his head, “They’ll always have a home with us, but…”

“Yeah,” Moe nodded, “Still sucks.”

Steve recognizes something of his own experience in that – he feels so damn grateful that Jim and Joyce had slid into that parent role for him, especially after he’d become estranged from his actual parents in his mid-twenties. Still, they weren’t his parents, and Steve would’ve never not wanted his parents to pull through like they should have.

Moe sat down on the couch between her dads.

“Why did Gray make you leave?” Steve asked (even though he had a sneaking suspicion why).

“Uh…” Moe paused, pushing her blonde bangs back, “Well, I wouldn’t say I was yelling, exactly, but…I dunno. If you ask Gray they might tell you I was yelling.”

Yep, that seems about right.

“I just,” Moe continued, “I know Gray was prepared for this – for their parents, like, rejecting all of this – and I know they’ve always totally sucked so this was obviously how this was gonna go, but I think I had a hard time seeing it because I’d never really had to consider what it would be like for that to happen.”

Moe shook her head, her bangs falling right back into her eyes, and Steve had to resist the urge to ask if she wanted his help trimming them like he’d done when she was little.

“I just mean – it never made a difference to you who me and Haze and Robbie were or what we did. You just, like, love us regardless…and always, y’know? I never had to imagine anything happening to make that stop, and I never had to consider that it might not be like that for everyone.”

She paused again, this time for a while, her eyes trained on the carpet as she fiddled with cuffs on her jeans.

And then Moe looked Steve dead in the eye.

“You’re the best dads,” she said, “and I’m really, really lucky.”

ROBBIE

There were eight hours between Steve and Eddie finding out their fifteen-year-old daughter had been in a car crash during a school trip to Disney World and when they finally made it down to the hospital in Orlando she’d been taken to. There were another agonizing two before Robbie woke up.

When she did, her eyes groggily blinked open, and she looked blankly around the hospital room for a moment, and then she saw them.

Then her pale face crumples and suddenly she’s crying.

And that had Steve’s heart plummeting even faster than the phone call from hell he’d gotten eight hours earlier, because Robbie doesn’t cry.

He can’t remember the last time he’d seen her cry – not since she was a baby, anyway. She’d cried constantly as a baby, but the second she had a firm enough grasp on the English language it had ceased entirely, replaced by an endless stream of words – demands and trains of thought and exclamations and everything in between.

Eddie had joked that she’d only ever been crying out of frustration over not being able to tell them what she needed, and as soon as she could tell them, she had no use for it anymore, so seeing Robbie sobbing – the kind of crying where no sound could come out, where she was barely breathing, where her tears were soaking her cheeks and staining the collar of the hospital gown someone had changed her into – it practically had Steve crying himself.

After a few minutes of we’re here and you’re okay and what do you need, Robbie had tearfully admitted, “I need a hug,” and then she’d broken down again.

She wasn’t exactly in any position to get up, obviously, so Steve had taken off his shoes (because even through tears she’d still side-eyed his sneakers) and slid onto the hospital bed so he could pull Robbie into his arms just like he used to do when bad dreams woke her up in the middle of the night.

Later, when Eddie was just outside the hospital room talking to the nurse and the chaperone for the trip about the accident and how the school was planning on moving forward in the aftermath, Robbie finally spoke.

“Papa,” she said, her face pressed into his shoulder.

“Mm-hmm.”

“I’m sorry.”

Steve looked down at his daughter.

“Robbie, you don’t need to–”

“Not for this. For…just, like, in general. You–”

She paused, and Steve let her.

“I just mean…” she continued, “I haven’t been, like, good lately, and I’m sorry.”

Steve didn’t know what to say.

She’s not exactly wrong – it’s true that Robbie had been a total piece of work lately, especially since she started high school, especially since she got bumped up to the senior-level band class because she’s that good at the violin (which he and Eddie had been thrilled about initially until they realized it meant she was making friends with high school seniors) – but Steve didn’t exactly know how best to explain to her that up until this, up until she’d nearly died because of it and no matter how much Steve didn’t like it, it was normal.

It was normal for teenagers to do dumb shit, to hurt themselves, to hurt others, to drive their parents goddamn insane with worry. It wasn’t normal for them to nearly end up dead because of it, and this time it wasn’t really even her fault.

It sort of reminded him of Nancy in a way, of how Nancy had never been the same again after what happened to Barb, how Nancy had never let herself be a dumb teenager, never let herself relax, even though picking a boy over a friend was normal. Sneaking out and drinking during a badly-supervised school trip was normal. Sure, there were supposed to be consequences but there shouldn’t be a goddamn death toll.

“I know, Bean,” he finally said, something about the situation pulling out a nickname for her that he hadn’t used in a long time (because when she was born, Moe had turned Robin into Robbean and the rest was history).

“You’re really good to me,” Robbie whispered, “You and dad are so good to me, and I’m not always good back, and I’m sorry.”

“I don’t need you to be sorry,” Steve told her because, for right now at least, it was true, “Just…just stick around long enough to work with us, okay?”

Robbie nodded.

“Okay.”

#don’t ask about the melted spoons #eddie’s attention span is godawful #is this angst? i think this is angst #steddie #liv’s steddie dads verse #steddie dads #steve harrington #eddie munson

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strangersteddierthings · 9 months

Text

Untitled Song

An installment in the The Interview universe.

"This is a love song."

"What? No, it's not!" Steve argues, looking back down at the notebook.

"It reads like a love song. The little bit you just sang for me has love song vibes," Robin leans more of her weight onto Steve's back, where she's standing over his shoulder reading the lyrics.

He stares down at the page. "Yeah. Okay. I see it. But, like, I didn't mean it to be all love song vibey."

"I would do it again if I could hold you for a minute," Robin reads in a flat tone, unimpressed.

"Okay! Stop, I don't- I mean- ugh!" Steve slumps forward, resting his forehead on the page of lyrics. "Okay, fine, but like, in context I'm clearly talking about like, reliving my whole life. I would do it all again."

"Did you just say that this is clearly about your whole life because if so, I want to be on the same drugs as you," Robin pushes off of him to move around the table and plop into the chair across from him. She tries her best to level him with a stare, but he doesn't give her the satisfaction by refusing to lift his head. The downside of being soulmates, she decides. He knows what she's going to do and when and can, therefore, avoid it. "Look, I get that he was, like, your first love and high school sweetheart but he couldn't have been that good of a fuck. It was just inexperience that made-"

"Robin!" Steve shouts over her, looking at her now so she can see his scandalized expression. Ha! She takes it back. It's an upside to being soulmates because she knows exactly what to say to rial him up. "It's not about the sex! It's about all of it. Everything. I don't- what Eddie did was shitty and it fucking hurt, but that was ten years ago. This song is about everything."

She doesn't see it that way, but even with how well she's able to read him, Steve's mind has always had its own way of thinking she can't quite nail down. With a sigh, she says, "Alright. Benefit of doubt time. Explain the song to me."

"It's not just about Eddie. It's about my whole life. You know how my parents were, how high their expectations were and how I had to hide almost everything about me while I lived with them. That's the my life was a storm since I was born. How could I fear any hurricane bit. And if I hadn't dated Eddie, like, at all. Well, I was already on the track to being an asshole in elementary school. Can you imagine who I would have been in high school if I was still that kid?

"It's also, like, if Eddie and I had stayed together... If we hadn't- I hadn't broken up with him, would I have met Dustin? Or Lucas and Max? Will or Mike, Nancy, and Jonathan? It's like, the years directly after Hey Steve were absolute dogshit, yeah, but it brought me all the people I love now," Steve looks down to the page again, either avoiding her eye contact or finding it too much. She's not sure which one. "If Eddie and I had stayed together there was only option for my future. Once the car had been fully put in my name, I'd have told Eddie to pick a city and we'd have left, for Eddie to chase his dream while I chased him. I wouldn't have gone to Chicago with you, never had the money to purchase that first place to live with you. Maybe never have discovered I loved interior design and house renovation. So, I would do it all again. It brought me my family."

She understands, now, what the lyrics really mean to him. However, she's also the one person in the whole world close enough to Steve to actually see it. "I get what you are saying. But these lyrics do not tell that story. Knowing your reasoning behind it does make me see them that way. But no one who hears that is going to know your tragic backstory."

"So, should I re-write this?"

"Depends. What is your goal with this... statement. What is the best case scenario."

Steve blinks at her. "Oh. Uh, best case, huh? I guess... I want to talk to Eddie, again. We parted on real bad terms, and I think I want closure from that?"

She narrows her eyes at him, judging. "Are you angry, like, at all?" She is. She's still furious with Eddie. His fucking song had blown Steve's life up virtually overnight. But also, she had thought they were friends, too. She hadn't realized their friendship was conditional, with that condition being he and Steve having to be in a relationship.

And, yeah, logically she knows she was Steve's friend first and it would be easy to default to believing she'd be on Steve's side but she wasn't. Not at first.

When Steve had shown up at her house, having gone straight from Eddie's to hers after he told them they were over, she'd held him through the night as he cried. But in the morning, she'd told him she needed to check on Eddie. He was her best friend, too. But Wayne told her he was gone, left last night to Chicago. Wayne had offered her a ride there with him, after he got Eddie's van running again and went to take it to him.

She said she'd think about it. Tried to reach out over all the socials, but Eddie didn't even check them, and then Hey Steve came out and there wasn't any room left in her to care about Eddie and his emotional state.

Not anymore. Not when he'd left her, too. Not when, even after Robin had made her own way to fame, he declined to meet with her. She'd tried to reach out but who was she, a new comer to the music scene and barely known, to Eddie Fucking Munson, lead guitarist to Corroded Coffin?

"I mean, sure, but like... it's been ten years. I don't- I have better things to think about than how mad I was... am? at Eddie. We were friends, first, y'know. And it's complicated. You know this," Steve says.

"Yeah, yeah," Robin waves off his words, "you're whole Eddie was a part of my life for longer than he's been gone from it thing. I'm not sure that the fifteen years of your childhood should be counted the same as this decade of adulthood."

"I get that you don't want to forgive him, and that's fine. But, forgiveness or not, I want closure."

"Okay. Keep the song as is."

"Really?"

"Yes," Robin says, a Cheshire cat grin spreading across her face. If Steve records and shares what sounds like a love song, there's almost a 100% chance that Gareth will reach out again. She knows they're expecting to see an angry and hurt Steve, but instead they'll get this? Robin's not above playing unfair. She hopes this breaks Eddie, consumes him with a guilt as deep as the original hurt felt. "I think we should let everyone think it's your sad, pathetic, pining for a decades-old-love song. It'll definitely get Gareth reaching out to me and my team again."

"Gareth's reached out?"

"It's his job. He's Corroded Coffin's PR Manager now, apparently. When Lauri told me Gareth had reached out, I asked to be included in the call. Anyway, not the point. The point is, if you want to talk to Eddie, this love song is the trick."

"It's not a love song!"

"Whatever you say, Dingus. Sing it again so I can imagine the music to go with it."

#the interview #platonic stobin #my fic #just a little scene about why robin let steve record a love song in her studio #she wanted to hurt eddie as much as he hurt her and steve #does she feel guilty about it? eventually #anyway #enjoy this little snippet that didnt end up in the original fic

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rebelspykatie · 9 months

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Soulmate AU Part Four

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Five

The night of the date, Eddie is pacing beside his front door. Wayne is watching from his armchair with an exasperated look, having already told him to sit down or he was going to wear a hole in the carpet. He jumps when there’s a knock on the door and shoots Wayne a dirty look when he laughs. Before opening it, he grabs the flowers off the counter and takes a deep breath, attempting to settle his nerves.

When he finally pulls the door open, he’s still wholly unprepared for Steve Harrington to be the one standing on his doorstep, eyes twinkling in the haze of the setting sun, hair perfectly coiffed and yellow sweater sitting snug around his torso. He holds out the flowers before Steve can even say hello.

There’s a beat of silence where Eddie almost pulls them back, but Steve hesitantly reaches for them, holding them delicately in his hands. “You got me flowers,” he says with a hint of awe.

“My mama used to garden a lot before she died, and I remember sitting with her as she talked for hours about the meaning of all of these different flowers she was planting. I don’t remember all of them because it was so long ago, but I do remember what these mean.”

It’s never easy talking about his mom, but it’s not as difficult with Steve looking at him like he understands the importance of Eddie divulging something so personal. There’s a hopeful look on his face that reassures Eddie he can trust Steve with every dark corner of his soul. They’re not there yet, but they’re headed in the right direction.

He looks down at the yellow and white water lilies with a watery smile, “Mama used to always say that water lilies were about rebirth and enlightenment. A lot of cultures tied that back to purity and religion. But mama used to tell stories of nymphs leaving them around those they wanted to protect or claim.”

Steve ducks his head, burying part of his face in the flowers. “Are you the nymph in this scenario?”

“If it means staking my claim, then yes.” A triumphant trill courses through him when Steve blushes. “I know the universe already did that for me, but I wanted to show you I mean it. I want to start over and actually give this a shot.”

“I want that, too.” Steve looks back at his car. “Maybe we can leave these here, though. I don't want them to get ruined sitting in the car.”

It takes a few minutes to find something to leave them in. The Munson’s aren’t big flower people these days, but soon enough they’re on their way, Wayne shooing them out the door. Steve hasn’t told Eddie where they’re going, but it’s somewhere outside of Hawkins.

As they exit the city limits, Eddie's nervous chatter has died down a bit. Steve quietly says, “I didn’t think you would be into flowers or any of that romantic shit.”

“Just because I look mean and scary, doesn’t mean I don’t believe in love. I was just as excited as you were to get my soulmate mark.”

“Why were you so scared to tell me?”

“My own stupidity, I guess.” Eddie shrugs. “Things never worked out long term for any of the Munsons when it comes to soulmates. My mom died young and my dad fucked off after that, not wanting to raise someone that was a living reminder of what he lost. Wayne’s died in Vietnam. I wasn’t hopeful that mine would work out when it was the most popular guy in school’s name on my arm.”

Steve holds out a hand across the center console of the car, wrist up as a reminder of whose name is written there. Eddie slides their hands together.

“I had accepted that my fate was just like all the other Munson’s before me. You were happy with Wheeler and I couldn’t bring myself to get in the way of that.”

“We weren’t happy,” Steve interjects faintly, absentmindedly rubbing a thumb over the back of Eddie’s hand. “I think somehow Nancy knew it wasn’t going to be her name on my wrist. She’s perceptive in a scary way.” What little he knows of Wheeler tells him that’s true. After a beat Steve adds, “Sounds like we both had unrealistic expectations for all of this.”

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees, squeezing Steve’s hand. “But we’re starting over, no more King Steve or Eddie the freak Munson.”

“Just Eddie and Steve. I like the sound of that.”

“Me, too.” He’s about to ask where they’re going for the hundredth time, but Steve turns into a parking lot for what looks like a bookstore.

The building is nondescript with just a simple sign out front. Eddie is already bounding through the entrance before Steve’s turned the car off. Inside, there are walls of books, but it’s more than that. One side of the store is what appears to be a hobby shop, with puzzles, model kits of everything from boats to planes, and a whole display case of dice sets and miniatures.

Eddie’s frozen in place, just inside the doorway, bouncing on the balls of his feet excitedly, when he feels Steve come up behind him. “How did you find this place?”

“This kid I babysit plays Dungeons and Dragons, too. He’s the nerdiest little shit. Loves to read. Smartest person I know. He builds all kinds of robots that do stuff. His mom can’t afford to bring him out here all the time, so I started doing it. Let the kid go wild in here and he’s a happy camper. Easiest babysitting job ever.”

Eddie might climb Steve like a tree right here in the middle of this store for everyone to see. He can’t believe the words Dungeons and Dragons just came out of his mouth.

“This place is amazing. I’ve been using a secondhand set of dice from Gareth that he got from his cousin. I had no idea this place existed.”

“You wanna get a new set?” Steve nods towards the display case. “My treat.”

Eddie almost trips in his hast to sprint across the room and start going through the different sets, Steve’s laughter echoing behind him.

Part Five

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #katie writes #thank you all for being so patient #the final part tomorrow #i promise

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steddiealltheway · 1 year

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Part Three of Not-So-Secret Secret Admirer!!! Part One. Part Two. AO3 Link.

Eddie doesn’t know what to get Steve next. Well, he knows what he wants to give Steve, but he’s pretty sure a mixtape would be a dead giveaway. But it’s four days after the second gift, and he needs one for tomorrow.

He groans and flops down on his bed. What’s vague enough that doesn’t scream Eddie Munson is your fake secret admirer? He could get cupcakes or something, but that’s kind of dumb and not personal enough. Plus, he wants to see Steve get flustered again. It feels nice to know that he can do that to Steve Harrington.

Because it’s Steve, and he doesn’t seem easily wooed, as he’s always the one doing the wooing. Eddie is glad to be giving Steve a break for once because he’s a great friend. A great friend who happens to get butterflies when he sees his other friend get giddy from his anonymous gifts.

Eddie flails his arm out to grab his pillow and scream into it – instead, he hits his bedside table and hears a large clattering noise. The universe is against him tonight.

Eddie groans and rolls to the side of his mattress to check if anything important fell besides his deodorant. He sees a few abandoned hair ties and an empty soda can but nothing of value. Until he’s slightly blinded by a gleam of silver.

He reaches out and grabs the small object, fingers wrapping around the cool metal. It’s the ring he keeps on his nightstand, far too large for any of his fingers but also with a simple design carved into the metal that is almost too pretty for Eddie to be putting it on a chain to wear around his neck.

It’s not anything too sentimental besides the fact that Eddie has had it for years now after spotting it at some yard sale and immediately swiping it – blame his father for teaching him that trick. He stares at it for the first time in a long time fully taking it in. He has the absurd thought that it would look pretty on Steve.

It would look pretty on Steve. He’s scared he’d hate it and wear it only when Eddie is around to see it. But if it’s from his secret admirer, Eddie doesn’t have to worry about Steve’s politeness. He laughs and clutches the ring to his chest thinking of a cheesy note to write Steve as he drifts off.

-:-:-:-:-:-

He parks in the parking lot, ring in a small cardboard box with a horribly wrapped bow on top trapping a note underneath it. Every five days is a nice schedule, but maybe he should add some variation in it. But there’s no way that Steve is going to guess today is the day after only two gifts.

At least, that’s what he thinks until Eddie sets the box on the top of Steve’s tire and hears someone yell, “Eddie! You’re Steve’s secret admirer?!” Dustin of all people pops out from behind the corner of the store.

“Dustin... this isn’t what you think...”

Dustin runs up to him and grabs him by the arm. “I’ve been waiting out here for days for some girl, and it’s just been you! Are you kidding me?” Eddie finds that Dustin is a lot stronger than he thinks as he drags him inside the store and yells, “Steve! I found your secret admirer!”

Steve and Robin whip their heads around. Robin’s eyes go wide, and Steve’s eyebrows pinch together. “Well, where is she?” Steve questions.

“Nu uh uh. Where is he?” Dustin corrects him excitedly pointing to Eddie.

Steve takes a moment to process it, but as soon as he opens his mouth, Eddie cuts him off. “I’m not his secret admirer! I’m just... the messenger! Okay? I caught them the first time, and I promised to deliver the rest so they wouldn’t get caught.” He holds his hands up, pretty proud of his ability to make shit up on the spot. But he’s also dug himself into a way deeper hole.

He glances towards Steve, trying his best not to look guilty or suspicious. Oddly enough, Steve seems a bit... disappointed by the news. Probably just because he was excited to solve the mystery of E.R. and no other reason. “So, you know them?” Steve questions.

“Better than you think,” Eddie says, and tries not to cringe as Robin signals at him to cut it out.

“Sworn to secrecy?”

“The secretest,” Eddie replies lamely but Steve doesn’t laugh for once, just smiles tightly.

“Are you kidding me?” Dustin says again. “You’re our friend first! Whoever this is can forget about whatever promise you made.”

“Why don’t we talk about this outside while grabbing Steve’s gift?” Eddie says already grabbing Dustin’s shoulder and pulling him out the door.

“Who is it? Who could possibly be so important that they-”

The door closes behind them, and Eddie finally starts talking, “It’s me, okay? But not like me.” Eddie sighs and runs a hand over his face.

“You have like two seconds to explain to me before I tell Steve,” Dustin says, full attitude in his tone.

“Steve couldn’t stop saying he was hopeless, so I came up with a plan to give him hope.”

Dustin narrows his eyes at him. “So, you made Steve an imaginary admirer to stop his whining.” Eddie cringes at that description, but... it’s true. “That’s perfect!”

Eddie shoots the kid a look. “It is?”

“Well, we don’t have to worry about a random person trying to butt into the group, and now we’re sure that Steve will be occupied until someone else comes along.”

Someone else. Yeah, that’s a good plan. All part of the plan. Speaking of that... Eddie grabs the small box off the top of Steve’s wheel and walks back into Family Video to find Steve staring at him. “What was that all about?”

“Had to convince Henderson that the admirer was worthy enough for his second favorite babysitter.”

“The first being?”

“Me of course. Right Dustin?” Eddie asks ruffling his hair.

Steve points at the kid. “Don’t answer that.”

Dustin holds his hands up and changes the subject, “I’m just here to see what’s in the box.”

With that, Eddie tosses it to Steve who catches it easily. He smiles down at the gift. “I don’t want to undo the bow it’s so cute.”

Robin gives him a look filled with confused disgust. “Just open the box.”

Steve reluctantly unties the bow and stares at the note. Dustin and Robin scoot closer to him and read along. Eddie joins them. You and me... that has a nice ring to it. Robin groans and Dustin laughs.

Okay, maybe it doesn’t make total sense, but it’s the best Eddie could come up with. It has the effect Eddie wanted – Steve's cheeks flush a wonderful shade of pink. He opens up the box on the counter and removes the ring carefully. He slowly spins it around to look at every detail.

Robin and Dustin look over at Eddie with wide eyes. “Looks like your secret admirer is proposing,” Robin breathes out.

“No I-” Eddie trails off as Steve looks up at him. “I... don’t think that was their intention. Besides, I doubt it fits his ring finger.”

Steve slides the ring over his ring finger. It fits perfectly. Steve smiles.

“Okay, I think it’s a little too soon for a marriage proposal,” Eddie says, sweating at the image of Steve wearing his ring for some reason.

“Not if he’s known the person for a long time,” Dustin supplies unhelpfully. Telling him was a bad idea.

Luckily, Steve seems too distracted by his gift to really process what the kid has said. Eddie takes the moment to shoot Dustin a warning look. He decides it’s better to take him out of the situation entirely. “So, Dustin, your duty is done, so let me give you a ride home.”

“To the arcade,” Dustin corrects.

“Fine, the arcade. Let's go,” Eddie says as he starts heading out the door.

“Wait!” Steve says, finally breaking out of his thoughts. Eddie turns around. “Just... give me a minute,” Steve says and runs to the break room.

Robin rushes forward. “You told Dustin?”

“Big mistake, I know.”

“Hey! I’m great at keeping secrets.” Robin and Eddie give him a blank stare. Dustin sighs, “Fine, I’ll just wait in the car.” Eddie watches as Dustin mutters something under his breath as he walks out the door.

“You’re really getting into this whole gift thing, aren’t you?” Robin teases him with a knowing smile. What she knows, Eddie doesn’t want to think about.

“Just helping a friend out.”

“A friend,” Robin says sarcastically.

The break room door opens before Eddie can defend himself. Steve rushes over to Eddie with a folded-up piece of paper. “Can you give this to them? And just... promise not to read it.”

“Of course,” Eddie lies, stomach churning unpleasantly. “What do you think of the ring?” he asks nervously, changing the subject.

Steve looks down at it and smiles. “I love it.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asks with a big grin.

“Yeah,” Steve replies with a soft look. Eddie tries not to trick himself into think that Steve would respond the same way if Eddie had given it to him without the false pretense of the secret admirer.

“I’m glad.” Eddie’s eyes flicker to Robin who is staring at him while making a gagging gesture.

A car horn saves him from any cruder gestures she could make. “Looks like it’s time for me to go and deliver a boy and a letter. Farewell!” Eddie says dramatically, waving at the pair.

He tries not to think of why the image of Steve waving with the ring glistening on his finger stays stuck in his head.

After Eddie drops Dustin off, he immediately unfolds the note from Steve.

Dear E.R.,

Thank you for the kind gifts. Would be so kind as to tell me something about yourself? Something that makes you smile the way you’ve made me smile.

I can’t wait to hear from you,

Steve

It’s cheesy and romantic, and Eddie’s unable to convince himself that he doesn’t wish the note was truly for him. This was not part of the plan.

Part Four

Hello My Dear Tag List:

@wrenisflying @gobbledy-gluk-gluk @swimmingbirdrunningrock @ghostlyjax @wheatnoodle @yet-still-more-banched @moonshadows-13 @princessstevemunson @adankrivervalleynearyou @manda-panda-monium @brassreign @bornonthesavage @unclewaynemunson @bird-with-pencils @themardlonk @fangirltofangod @csinnamon-fox @mightbeasleep @theysherobinbuckley

@writtenbyancientskeletonhats @nagitoeatsnillacharms73 @duckyreads @hellykelly @glittergluekintsugi @rainydays35 @thatonespacek1d @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe @paperbackribs @anaibis @adaydreamaway08 @steviesbicrisis @madaboutmunson2 @goose-on-the-loose @dangdirtydemons @whimsicalwitchm @aftermidnightwriting @toasted-ghosty @queerbeansworld @aryakanojiaa @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @queerriotgrrrl @iwouldsail @hellomynameismoo @r0semaryyy @hopefulcookieoperatorpersona @pomegranatebb @piningapple @love-kurdt @wallpaper-inside-my-heart @eddiesbabe95 @isaacisunsure @adankrivervalleynearyou @sleepdeprivedflower @gay-little-bitch @ely-seum @tillystealeaves @yes-im-your-mom @ceaselessly-watching @evix-syne666 @sweetharmonychilde @myhorseis-regularsized @homosexual-having-tea @anything-thats-rock-and-roll @henderdads

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #secret admirer

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quixoticall · 4 months

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The View Between Villages

Summary: Steve Harrington offers to be your ghostly tour guide after your mysterious, unexpected death.

AN: Hiiiii, if you’ve been wondering where I’ve been then, first of all thank you for thinking of me, and secondly, I have been sick with bronchitis for weeks. Tbh I never understood in Regency novels where they would make such a huge deal about someone being sick until now. That shit took me out. Anyway, in my convalescence I watch the show, School Spirits and I couldn’t help but see the similarities between Wally and Steve—both men of the 80s, hot labrador retriever jocks with a compulsive need for parental approval? So, that’s how this lil piece was born. I would love to continue writing in this universe so please, if you have any requests, send them in! In the meantime, I am hard at work on This Could Get Ugly and a lovely lil Eddie number inspired by another Noah Kahan song.

Warnings: School Spirit!AU, Major Character Death, talks about own death, brief mention of violence and death, angst, this is sad! Ghost!Steve and Ghost?Reader

Pairing: Steve Harrington x f!reader

WC: 2K

It’s Steve Harrington who first declares you dead. Admittedly it takes you an embarrassingly long time to realize, it wasn’t like they sent out notices for these types of things either, as convenient as a note would’ve been:

To Whom it May Concern:

We regret to inform you that on February 12 of this year, you will unfortunately perish under unclear circumstances in the city of Chicago, Illinois at Northwestern University. Please make sure to get your affairs in order before the set date.

No, none of that, instead you had attended three whole lectures before noticing that no one was acknowledging you—not your professors when you raised your hand; not your classmates when you asked if they could loan you a pencil; not even your best friend when you ran into him in the hall. You thought it could’ve been a weird prank. Then the news began to spread, you were missing. Reported by your roommate after not having come home from a late-night study session at the library. And then they found traces of blood in the boiler room of the library’s basement.

Still, you thought to yourself, maybe you were having a really long terrible dream. Or maybe you were in a coma. Or doing one of those VR headset things. Or maybe you were dead and cursed to spend the rest of eternity haunting the very campus where you died.

Your friends were never the gym type, which is why you end up at the school’s pool in an effort to avoid the pain and desperation you feel every time you see their tired but still-hopeful faces.

That’s where you see him. Or, more importantly, where he sees you. You first spot him sitting at the edge of the pool, observing the ongoing swim team practice and are immediately struck.

Sure, you may be stuck in some weird reality where you may or may not be dead but you can still appreciate a hot person. Especially one as handsome as Pool Guy who’s striped swim trunks sit low on his hips and he has a smattering of dark hair trailing from his belly button almost up to the base of his neck. Thick, chestnut-colored hair swoops in his handsome face in golden-touched waves and gracefully frame a pair of honey-hued eyes. Of course you were going to stare.

You’re sure you stare for an indecent amount of time, but it wasn’t like that mattered, you remind yourself, you’re invisible to him like you are to everyone else.

Except you’re not invisible to him because Pool Guy was making eye contact and worse, he was waving, solidifying the fact that he is very aware of your presence. He can see you.

“Hi, you must be new here. I’m Steve Harrington, class of ‘86,” he introduces himself, with way too much verve once he swims over to where you’re still frozen in place.

“You can see me?” You ask, once you find your voice, “How can you see me?”

You reach out to grasp his offered hand and to your shock, your fingers don’t go straight through his, like it would with anyone else’s. Instead you’re enveloped in the warm solid grasp of his hand.

He cracks a smile at this, “because I’m dead too. Which, I totally get you’re probably wondering how someone this good-looking could’ve died so young but i will—“

“Dead?” you squeak out.

“Sorry,” he says with an awkward grimace, “I know not everyone likes that term, um, how do you identify—?“

You cut him off once again, “I didn’t know I was dead.”

It’s his turn to be confused.

“Really? Most people are really quick about putting it together. When they see their body the memories all come back. I mean even I put it together and I was never the smartest even before the accident—oh, shit. You’re the missing girl. The one from all the flyers.”

Clearly he’s referencing the myriad HAVE YOU SEEN ME? flyers with your face on them that paint the campus. Up until now, you had been categorically missing not dead, and now that someone has spoken your fate out loud, you’re certain it is all but sealed.

“Listen, I am so sorry. Let me go get someone who’s way better at this than I—“ you cut off his apologetic rambling,

“I need to leave right now.”

Before he can say anything else you’re running in the opposite direction as quickly as you can.

You don’t go back to the pool after that.

Being dead wasn’t so bad. Sure, you had spent a solid five weeks distraught over the loss of the life you had once lived and mourning everything you will never get to do. And yeah, it was a uniquely painful type of loneliness getting to see all your friends and never getting to interact with them, especially during those first few weeks when your disappearance was hot on everyone’s lips and heavy in the hearts of your friends. But outside of all that, being dead was okay. At least, you didn’t have to submit any more papers or do laundry.

After your encounter with Steve Harrington, class of ‘86, you decide to hole up in the library. You desperately convince yourself that if you search the shelves enough you’ll be able to find something in one of the many books that talk about the afterlife that might provide you some clarity about your newfound ghostly status. Surely there’d have to be something helpful. Anything. A ghost manual, perhaps or some graduate research paper about being stuck in between realms. You’d easily settle for a Chicken Soup for the Ghostly Soul.

Or you think traitorously to yourself, a tour guide to the afterlife, someone who has experience with being dead and a great set of abs. Every time you’re close to convincing yourself to go back to the pool, the embarrassment of your mortifying first encounter pulls you back. No way you were going to see him again. Just because you were dead didn’t mean you’d lost all your dignity.

Your internal back-and-forth ends up not mattering because he ends up coming to you.

You spot his well-coifed head maneuvering through the tall shelves from where you’ve holed yourself up on the fourth floor mezzanine and watch as he weaves through the unassuming crowd, completely unnoticed, just like you.

He’s wearing clothes this time, which both disappointing and surprising since you haven’t quite figured out the mechanics or social expectations of how often ghosts should be changing clothes. In a pair of snug-fitted jeans with a Northwestern Athletics sweatshirt and a pair of high top Nikes, he takes the winding steps up to your unofficial perch two at a time . If this is what he looks like some 40 years dead, you can’t imagine what he looked like when he had a pulse, it must have been like staring into the sun.

“Hi,” he offers tentatively when he approaches, like he’s sure you’ll run off spooked.

“Hi.”

“Sorry to bother you, it’s just, well, my friend Robin told me she saw you here and I wanted to come by and apologize for what happened. At the pool. I truly had no idea, sometimes I just say things without thinking, which I am working on, trust me.”

You smile, appreciative but defeated, part of you was hoping he was coming up here to tell you that there had been some sort of mistake.

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault, it was just a bit of shock, is all. I guess I’m still adjusting to this whole being dead thing,” you joke weakly.

“Yeah, about that, if you ever need help adjusting or learning the ropes or anything like that, I—we are always happy to help. There’s a few of us that band together and we’d love to have you. Truly,” he claws nervously at the back of his head as he makes his offer the tip of his sneaker digging into the worn library carpet.

“Thanks,” you say, genuinely, “I really appreciate that.”

He looks at you now, finally, and his gaze is golden, warm honey and it’s like a shot to the chest. Like you’ve promised him the moon. A hand is extended towards just slightly, a twitch, and you realize he’s expecting you to take it.

“I can’t right now, though,” you say, lamely and you watch his smile waver. Quickly you add, ”I need some time, I think, before it becomes permanent. If I go with you, I’m dead. Alone up here, I’m still just missing. Does that…make sense?”

He nods, furiously, “It makes total sense. You can come find me by the pool whenever you’re ready. I will be there.”

He makes a move to leave and you register the paper in his hand for the first time. It’s a flyer with your face on it, different than all the ones before.

“Wait, what is that?” You ask, fingers skimming the plush of his sweatshirt to get his attention.

“Oh, um,” he swallows thickly, “they’re having a vigil for you tonight, I wasn’t sure if you’d seen or if you were going, but if you were going, I was going to see if you wanted some company. “

His voice is small now and the regret is etched thickly on his face.

Fingers shaking, you extend a hand out for the flyer. Steve sighs but gently places it in your trembling grasp nonetheless.

It’s true, what he said about the vigil, you had no clue. You’re not sure how long you spend staring at your own face, long enough for the words to stop making sense, but not long enough for them to stop meaning anything.

Steve stays the entire time and when you sink to the floor, tear tracks heavy on your cheeks, he sinks with you. You cry, and he stays.

“I can’t go,” you admit, and then, in the same breath, plea, “How can I go?”

Next to you, Steve lets out a shuttering sigh.

“When I died, they did something similar, my parents came down from Indy and everything. I couldn’t bring myself to go either. But shit, maybe if I did, I would’ve gotten what I needed to move on from here. Closure or whatever. Or maybe not, who knows? But I will never know and I would hate for you to never know.”

It’s still too hard to go you decide, but you can’t pretend it’s not happening. Instead, the two of you sit on the roof of the library, feet dangling over the ledge watch a river of candlelight flowing through the center of campus. You can hear, faintly, as your friends make speeches talking about how kind you were, how good, how funny and undeserving until their voices fail from holding back tears.

You cry the whole time, but you don’t regret it.

The two of you stay sitting there far past the end, Steve’s arms wrapped around you, holding the pieces of you together.

After, when you’ve had enough of it all and the last candle has gone out, you turn to Steve and say, “thank you, that did make me feel better. You were right.”

He chuckles wryly.

“I don’t hear that I’m right very often,” he admits before cracking another smile, “but I could get used to hearing it, especially from you. Now, what do you say about getting some ice cream? No offense, but that thing was a total downer.”

You laugh, genuinely, not only at his joke, but the absurdity of it all before playfully shoving his shoulder. In response, Steve pretends to lose his balance and almost fall of the ledge and you both know it’s silly but it makes you smile so it’s worth it.

Dying is probably the worst thing that has ever happened to you, but at least you are not alone.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagines #Steve Harrington imagines #Steve Harrington x yn #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x you #school spirits!AU #ghost!steve Harrington

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