#i too want to be a cat held by eddie munson and steve harrington

[sp0o0kylights]

Wayne takes in a Beat to Shit Steve Harrington after Starcourt as n Owed Favor to Hopper Part 4

Part Three: link

First Chapter (parts 1-3 on tumblr) on A03: Link

The kid was madder than a wet hen.

Just as slippery as one too, when he got like this--music pulsing like a living thing to signal all his rage and upset. 

Not like Wayne hadn’t expected it. 

He just wished it wasn’t quite so damn loud. 

The music had started up almost immediately after Eddie had stormed to his room, startling Steve awake and nearly making Wayne curse for it.

Normally it was a good thing--music meant Eds was willing to listen instead of heading for the hills.  

Normally, they didn't have a house guest who looked like he'd gone ten rounds with a bear.

They had a routine for this, was the thing and the music was a key part of it. It worked all the edges off for Wayne, and he'd long figured out that about thirty minutes was a the perfect length of time for Eddie to stew before he could actually talk things through.

Given the hand Harrington put to his forehead, Wayne wasn't eager to give him that thirty minutes.

Not when Steve deserved little peace he could have.

Unfortunately, so did Eds. 

Still.

 Strutting through the door and demanding to talk right now was a bad move and so, with a sympathetic look given to Steve, Wayne did what he did best

Gave space.

Let Eddie rage, as Wayne got up and shuffled about the kitchen.

Pulled out the soft earplugs he pretended weren’t there for Eds to steal (playing that damn loud guitar all the time could not be good for his ears) and offered them to Steve, before making two cups of what Wayne privately thought was the Munson “chitchat” drink. 

One cup of hot water, one packet swiss miss, a small amount of maple syrup drizzled in, topped with little marshmallows they reserved for these types of situations. 

Wayne took his time with it, thinking through what he wanted to say. 

‘I understand that this is a screen door on a submarine kind of situation...’ 

Nope. 

‘Son I know you hate listening to anyone for anything but this is serious...’ 

Absolutely not--that would end up with the boy bolting for sure. 

‘Ed’s, I love you but could we please turn Ozzy off while we talk? That man wails louder than any damn cat I have ever met.’

That one was purely self indulgent, mostly because the wall was starting to shake. 

Wayne put the finishing touches on the cocoa before staring at both of them. 

Perhaps if he stared the Garfield mug in its eyes hard enough, the right words would come through. 

They did not.

He kept trying, standing there long enough for the cocoa to reasonably have cooled and for Eddie’s song to flip over to something with more screaming in it than singing. 

Wayne supposed that this was the hardest part of being a parent. You just didn’t get to have the magical one liner. The right thing to say at just the right time.  

The joke that would ease all the tension and let things progress forward nice and easy.

Instead, you got to fumble your way through the dark with a flashlight up your ass and hope you were going in the right-ish direction. Ideally without making things worse. 

Wayne was here though, and that had to count for something. 

(Knew it counted for something--because Eddie was still here. 

They had cleared hurdles far higher than this when it came to trust. They’d get through this too, come what may. 

Steve too.)

“Can I just ask,” Eddie started, aggressive as always when Wayne finally gave in and entered his room, feeling all sorts of awful for the migraine Steve had to have, “what the absolute fuck is happening?” 

Sure as fire he was sitting on his bed, leg bouncing a mile a minute.

An unlit cigarette hung between two fingers, looking a little chewed on, but otherwise undisturbed--as it should be, because one of Wayne’s few rules was that smoke stayed outside the house. 

“You could.” Wayne said loudly but agreeably, as he turned himself around and dropped down next to his kid.  

Held out the Garfield mug, and was happy when it was taken from him. 

“Figured you might have other things to say, though.” 

Likely a lot of things. 

It was as good an opening as any, and his kid didn’t disappoint, launching right to it. 

“Why is he here and not at a hospital?”

 ‘Here’ was punctuated by Ed’s hand winging towards the door, and while it wasn’t the righteous fury Wayne expected, it was at least, an easy answer to give. 

“Steve has some people looking for him. Bad people. Hospital makes him an easy target.” 

Wayne was still talking loud. Could only hear Eddie himself because he was looking at the kid’s lips more than he was actually hearing his voice. 

Eddie took that in, swallowing it about as well as he’d swallowed anything he hadn’t liked. 

And thank the stars above, he finally reached a hand out and turned the music down. Not a lot--Steve wouldn’t be able to hear them over all this--but enough that Wayne didn’t have to struggle. 

“We’re hiding him from the cops now?!” Ed’s spat. 

“Cops know he’s here. Hopper’s the one who asked me to take him.” Wayne reminded him, because it was the truth. 

Not the full truth, but given how Ed’s pissed off half the local PD on a good day, Wayne absolutely did not want to see his nephew take on Federal Agents.

(Particularly not the kind who were going ‘round killing kids.) 

“So--what?” Eddie yanked hard on his hair, a gesture that looked less intentional and more like he was trying to fight his own anger down. “Hopper just called you up and said ‘Hey, we had a whoopsie with the rich kid, the hospital’s not safe anymore. Can we stash him with you for a few days?” 

Wayne nodded once, slow-like. 

Always remembered how too fast movements had made Eddie flinch and jerk back when was littler, and given the way Steve was looking, figured it was a good time to be cautious again. 

“He did.”

“And you just--agreed? Just like that!?” 

“I did.” 

He pretended not to see Eddie boggle at him at the simple admission, so furious that he seemed to struggle for words when he normally had too many to say. 

Wayne took advantage. 

“We did talk a bit more than that, I’ll admit.”

Ed’s scoffed. “About the weather I’m sure.” 

“‘Bout trust.” 

Eddie blinked at that. 

“Trust.” He echoed flatly. 

“What have I always told you? People like to ask you to trust them, but you they don’t get to have it until--” 

“They provide proof or a reason.” Eddie finished with an eyeroll. “So which did Hopper provide then?”

Wayne took a noisy sip of his coca. Smacked his lips a little before saying: “Both.” 

Didn’t bother to say anything else, because he knew Eddie would finish the thought for him. 

“One of them was me, wasn’t it.” 

Eds didn’t say it like a question, but Wayne hummed in agreement anyway. 

He wasn’t gonna shame his boy, but he wasn’t gonna sugar coat Eddie’s involvement in this either. Not when he’d already admitted that was half the reason Hopper had gone to Wayne to begin with. 

“No one is expecting Steve to be here.” He said, seeing the chance to hammer home the most important part of this entire shitshow. “So long as no one finds out he’s here, he’ll be safe. Everyone will be safe.” 

Steve from the Feds who were hunting him for while he was busy being involved in shit he couldn’t control and Eddie because he had a mouth that most people didn’t like. 

Not small town people anyway, and absolutely not authority figures with guns. 

“Who’s even after him?” Eddie was theatrical as always, hands waving away as he talked. “Did he make a deal with the mob? Piss off some other rich guy? I know it’s not anything drug related, I’d have heard about it by now.” 

After years of experience, Wayne knew exactly how far to lean away to stay out of range, too used to his nephew talking with his entire body.

“That’s his story to tell ya, Ed’s. It ain’t mine. Same way it ain’t my place to tell him your story.” 

That at least got the boy to think for a minute. Put down that frustration he carried with him all the time, and use the brain they both knew he had. 

“How long is he staying here?”

Wayne shrugged. “Don’t know.” 

Eddie sighed and mockingly mimicked Wayne, taking an obnoxious slurp of his cocoa. “The neighbors are going to notice if he’s here more than a few days. The trailer park isn’t exactly big.” 

“They didn’t notice that time you decided to make fireballs with the cooking spray and about blew up half the driveway. Don’t think they’re gonna notice someone being quiet in the house.” 

Eddie snorted, and probably rolled his eyes again, not that Wayne could see it given the kid was looking into his own mug as he thought it all through. 

Wayne sat with him as he processed. 

Eds worked at his own pace with things, and while life at large might be against that, Wayne was happy to let him do it. Found it easier that way, then trying to poke and prod and force him like so many father figures did. 

Wayne’s patience was rewarded not even a full minute later, when Eddie turned to him and asked; 

“What if he finds out?”  

This in a quieter voice. An unsure one--words and body hunching in a way unlike the Eddie the world outside knew, but very much like the little boy Wayne had brought inside his home. 

It took Wayne  a moment to connect the dots--he’d been speaking out of the place parents and authority figures often do, and in doing so hadn’t thought much of the fact his nephew had a real secret. 

The kind small town minds didn’t like--and would kill him over. 

This all wasn’t about Wayne taking in Steve, he realized abruptly.  It was that Steve being here meant Eddie couldn’t be himself. 

Could not relax in a place he was accepted for who he was, because Wayne knew and made sure Eddie understood he was wanted here, had a place here, regardless of who he loved. 

Now, Wayne had gone and removed it.

‘Shit.’ 

“He won’t.” Wayne said. 

Knew that wasn’t enough, and so, promised: “But if he does, I’ll make sure he understands his safety here relies on your own.” 

Ed’s chin jerked in a nod, the two of them sitting in silence for a moment before the boy did as he often did when he wanted a hug but felt too awkward to ask for one, and tipped himself into Wayne’s side. 

“Thanks old man.” Eddie whispered into his shoulder and not for the first time, Wayne wished things were easier for the poor kid as he put his mug in one hand and hugged his kid with the other. 

Hoped that in the future, it would be.

Even if he had to force everyone and everything coming after him--and now Steve--to do it.

(Wondered vaguely, how bad it was that he was already getting as protective as Steve as he was of his own kid.

Probably very, given his kid clearly hated Harrington.)

xXx

Wayne took the first night of Steve’s stay off.

He wasn’t the type to use his PTO lightly. Was used to rationing it for any possible thing Eddie might need him for.

A night up sick when he was younger, to a night spent chasing him down during some of their bad spots--but the last year or so Wayne had slowly realized he hadn’t had to use it much.

He was still careful with it though, precious as it was, and was thankful for it now as it ensured his nephew didn’t murder their house guest. 

Or at the very least, didn't sit there pecking at him.

The kid might've failed English a few times, but he had a real gift with words and an even better one with insults.

(Wayne wasn't quite clear on what all the "King" jabs were about, and absolutely did not get why Steve looked far more hurt at the comment about his "sad ass floppy hair" but given the increasingly flat look Steve was throwing Eddie's way, Wayne figured it couldn't be anything good.)

Thankfully a pointed reminder about Steve's injuries had finally gotten them all some peace, enough for Harrington to drop back to sleep--and for Wayne to realize he looked a little too dead while he did it to be comfortable getting any sleep himself.

The kids chest barely moved, and that it ate at Wayne’s until he got up and shoved a hand under his nose. 

Felt his breath, and told himself the poor sod was fine. 

Hurt, absolutely, but alive. 

Over and over again, until the sun had made its rotation in the sky, bringing the morning with it.

‘Better than nightmares, I suppose.’ Wayne figured, as exhaustion scraped at his eyelids.

Those Wayne knew, would come later. When Steve’s brain caught up to the rest of him, and stopping dumping survival chemicals through his battered body. 

He'd given up on sleep entirely sometime around 1 am, and now he sat at his small kitchen table, writing out a medication schedule for Harrington so he and the kid both knew when he could have his next Tylenol. 

Wasn’t even halfway through it before Eddie made his typically late appearance and blew through his door. 

Had his back up from the moment he’d stepped a foot in the kitchen and it didn’t take a genius to see he’d worked himself into a snit again.

Unfortunately for him, whatever scenario that imaginative brain of his had cooked up fell flat to the reality that was the poor kid on the couch. 

Steve Harrington was one a hell of a sight.

Didn’t help that he was doing his level best to make himself as small as possible, curled deep into Wayne's ancient couch.

The blankets covered the ribs and hid away most of the damage, but there wasn’t much Steve could do to hide the shiners on his face--or the marks around his neck.  

Not when they’d grown worse overnight, practically inviting questions.

It was almost laughable how quickly Eddie ate whatever words he’d prepared, mouth awkwardly chewing around them as if they were tangible. 

The less-than-sneaky looks he threw at the younger teen were equally amusing, and if Wayne wasn’t trying to peace keep, he’d have given in and chuckled when Eds split attention caused him to pour half his coffee into the sink rather than a cup. 

Looked utterly lost when, after finishing putting his coffee together and grabbing some junk food thing that absolutely was not a breakfast item, he came to stand awkwardly at Wayne's shoulder, openly staring as Steve blatantly ignored him.

Eds didn’t know what to do, and Wayne couldn't blame him. 

Seemed to keep thinking he was going to encounter a boy that likely no longer existed, and whose blood tinged specter just made things sad.

Shit like this, Wayne knew, took a man’s ego and warped it, shaping it to something else entirely. 

At least for Steve, it seemed that getting wrapped up in whatever mess he had had shaped him for the better, instead of pretzeling him into something worse. That, Wayne thought, spoke to the boy's character more than anything he’d done prior. 

(It helped to know what Hopper tolerated and what he didn’t. That he’d vouched for Steve in the same way Wayne knew he’d vouched for Eddie, even if Eddie didn’t yet realize the cop he antagonized so much would do that for him.) 

That didn't erase the history his kid had with Harrington, though.

Wouldn't stop him from seeing the old Steve, first.

‘Don’t you got school?” Wayne asked when he decided Ed had stared enough. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Eddie waved him off, trotting out the door. “Bye old man, house parasite!” 

It was clearly a jab, meant to nettle, but Steve barely acted like he heard it. 

Wayne rolled his eyes. 

“Goodbye, Eds.” He said firmly, much of a warning as he ever gave, and fondly watched his nephew scuttle out the door. 

Turned to see how Steve was taking things, and was once again given a reminder that Steve wasn’t doing a hell of a lot other than feeling his injuries. 

“I think I promised you a game, son.”  Wayne said gently, startling Steve out of the distant, dim look he had trained on the wall. 

It wasn’t a lot to offer in terms of a distraction, but it would have to do.

#small town rumors #this is the first part of chapter two #I will post all parts of chapter two once im done fighting through it lol #steddie #or pre steddie #where I exist as a person #best dad wayne munson #wayne pov #did I say this entire chapter was going to be eddies pov bc haha I lied #outsider pov #s3 au #hurt/comfort #enemies to lovers but like softish enemies to lovers as in Eddies not caring a whole lot that Steves hurt....yet #beat to shit steve harrington #0o0 fanfics #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #Eddies out here ready to face down snotty af rich boy king steve #keeps working himself up so much he forgets how badly off Steve is lol #dont worry his munson doctrine goes to shit later #mostly bc Eddie thinks steve stuck his nose where he shouldnt have and finally got what he deserved lmao

[steviewashere]

Dream Come True

Rating: General CW: Minor internalized ableism on Steve's end Tags: Established Relationship, Married Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Future Fic, Adopting a Child, Parenthood, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Let Them Live a Quiet Life God Damn It, Mild Hurt/Comfort

For the @steddielovemonth prompt: "Love is about healing each other's wounds."

💕—————💕

They haven’t discussed children since the second month they were together. Was that probably a little too early in their relationship? Probably—Eddie will be brave enough to admit that right now. But, considering where they’re at now: Steve is forty-seven and Eddie’s forty-eight, their wedding bands are simple and gold (something easily spotted amongst the silver ones that Eddie still wears), the house they took a loan out for is painted yellow with white shutters installed (well, they paid Dustin and Will to do it. They were happy to help), they live in Massachusetts away from public eye, and though they don’t have a dog—not yet, the service dog process has been a long and weary one on Steve’s end—they have their little brown tabby cat. They’ve got a well furnished home. And years of love between them.

Nearly twenty-eight years in total. Nineteen years wedded. Six years of that are legally recognized. But that doesn’t matter. What matters is they stopped talking about the prospect of having kids.

Eddie’s initial answer at the beginning was, “Maybe. I think it would be neat. But, I’m gay, Steve. That isn’t really a possibility.” He chuckled a little bit. “I meant like adopting, but in a technical sense—Considering what’s in my pants, the possibility is still out the window.”

Steve’s was changed from what he told Nancy in that Winnebago. “I still want children. Or, just one. I want a quiet life. Even if you make it as some big rock star, I want a quiet private life.”

It was doable. What Steve had whispered on Eddie’s shoulder, that was doable. The question for years though was, When does he want that? And also, When will he leave to pursue that?

The answer was clear. Steve was never going to pursue that. That, sure, they’d have the quiet life. But never have children. And Eddie saw him wilt a little further and further. When they passed by the playground at the park. The daycare up the street from their home. After the seizure diagnosis, Steve stopped looking and thinking about it all together. It hurt Eddie’s heart.

He may have got the quiet life. And Eddie may have lived out his simple dream. He’d been a rockstar for a little bit in the late nineties and early two-thousands, retiring before they got married. But…Steve hasn’t lived his dream. Eddie hates that he thinks it’s being held back from him. Eddie’s determined to heal that hurt inside him.

——— Steve comes home from his Wednesday teaching shift around four in the evening. Eddie’s already on the couch, combing Poncho’s fur, watching the local news. He’s got a very important print out laid neatly on the coffee table. He hears Steve set down his briefcase on the dining table, his footsteps retreating to their kitchen to rinse out his thermos, coming back to the front door and placing his loafers on the shoe rack, and he hangs up his coat. Then, he enters the living room, hands scrambling to undo his tie, body leaning over the arm of the couch to press a kiss against Eddie’s mouth.

But then he pulls away, turning his whole body to watch the news. And that’s when he spots it. The flyer. He shuffles over on his mismatched socked feet, hands falling away from the collar of his dress shirt. He swipes up the paper. Behind his glasses, he squints.

It’s advertisement for the adoption agency some forty minutes out. Eddie hopes, by everything, that this will heal the pain in his own chest, and the emotional line of thinking in Steve’s brain. Hopes with everything that his body can physically give.

“What’s this about?” Steve asks. His voice is neutral. Almost…dare Eddie say, steely. Okay, maybe he made the wrong move. “We haven’t even—“

“I know,” Eddie immediately says. “I know we haven’t talked about it. But, sweetheart, just listen to me, alright?” At Steve’s confused and hesitant nod, Eddie tries to arrange his words. “This is something you’ve been wanting since forever ago. And I know that I haven’t really voiced my wants on it. But I also thought that it would never happen.

“That it would never be something people like me—“ He raises his eyebrows and points to the keyring attached to Steve’s belt loop. The short rainbow garland that sits discreetly among his keys. “—Would ever get the chance to do. But I—Steve, god, I want it so bad. I want to be able to be a dad and chase around a kiddo of our own while you’re busy at work. I want to see one off for school for their first day and cry like I’ll never see them again. Wanna make them a lunch they can bring to school, the same time that I make your lunch for your school. I want to watch them grow up with your goofy dancing skills and our combined love for music. And I—I want to be a better parent that I could’ve ever imagined.

“I want it with you,” Eddie breathes. “I want all of that with you. And I know that you still want it. Your forlorn looks at couples with babies. Every time you see Lucas and Max and their spitfire teenager, your eyes get this brightness to them that I—I have to be honest, I don’t think I’ve seen you happy like that since we got married.” He swallows at some of the implications there. And it’s not meant to be accusatory, but gosh does Eddie notice. The way his sunflower wilts. “This is just something for you to think about, okay? I know my decision on it. But think about it.”

Steve’s grip on the paper trembles. And his eyes are searing Eddie in a way that melts him. Blazing with adoration and love. “You want that?” He shakily asks. “You want to raise a kid with me?”

Eddie nods. “Yeah, baby. I really, really, really do.”

“Even though…Even though I have seizures that could scare them shitless? And I get so angry some days that all I can do is hide in our bedroom and cry? And I—You want that with somebody like me?” He hesitates to ask again. Eddie doesn’t answer, but his arms open in comfort and his eyes soften with earnest. Steve doesn’t move from his spot, though. He looks back at the paper. “What’s the—Our first step?”

“We apply. And they determine if we’re worthy and that it’ll be safe,” Eddie answers. “If they see us fit, they’ll look at our house and things like that. We’ll come back to that later on. If that’s something you still want.”

“Okay,” Steve states with fervor. “Let’s do this.”

——— After a tedious process, Eddie realizes how correct he was.

It’s a Saturday. The curtains are open. Dinner is simmering on the stovetop. And Eddie stirs the soup while he listens in on Steve’s activity in the living room.

“There you go, sweetheart,” Steve is cooing. “Good job, Carmen. Look at you.” He’s been supervising her tummy time everyday he’s able to. Loves being able to lay on his back on the floor, eyes watching their daughter, his fingers combing through her hair as she uses her wide brown eyes to wonder about the world around her.

Eddie bites back a smile.

“That’s Poncho,” Steve is saying. He’s introducing them like they’re all acquaintances around a water cooler. Eddie, maybe, snickers a little bit behind his hand. “He’s gonna be your buddy. He likes the space between his shoulder blades scratched. Just like you, huh?” And hears the moment that Steve dully traces his fingernails on Carmen’s back. She gurgles a little excited babbling. “That feels good, doesn’t it?” Steve murmurs. “Daddy likes that, too.” He’s talking about himself. Because he practically fought tooth and nail for that title. Eddie wouldn’t have it any other way.

From the kitchen archway, Eddie surveys the display on the living room floor. And Steve’s on his back in his pajamas. Glasses smooshed awkwardly up his face as his cheek is pressed against the carpet, eyes gone soft and glistening while Carmen is on her belly. Her hands are sprawled in front of her, squeezing at the soft toys they had gotten. He’s brushing his fingers through her short, curly wisps of brown hair. Then, his hand travels back down to massage and scratch at her back again. She’s wearing a pink striped onesie and a pair of white socks on her little feet.

He clears his throat to make himself known. Steve looks up at him, softly smiling. “I reckon things are going good in here?” Steve only nods, too enamored with petting at Carmen’s back. Eddie finally smiles at him. “Good,” he whispers. He leans his weight on the doorway. A dish rag thrown over his shoulder, arms crossed low over his belly, hair thrown up in a loose bun on his head. Domestic life has really begun to suit him, if he’s honest. He finds himself at ease about it now.

As he turns back to the kitchen, to serve up their bowls of soup, Steve calls his name. He immediately turns back around. Greeted with his husband’s soft face, his deepened smile lines, his messy hair spread on the carpet. He’s more youthful than ever, fatherhood has changed him for the better, at least Eddie thinks so. He hums to see what Steve needs, because by god, he’ll do anything for him.

“Thank you,” Steve whispers.

“For what?”

“Making my hurt go away,” Steve says. But Eddie’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. And Steve clarifies, “Allowing me to accomplish my final dream. I’m really happy that it’s with you.”

Eddie crosses into the living room, crouching down to kiss Steve’s forehead, pecking Carmen’s soft head, too. He combs his own fingers through Steve’s hair. Smiling at the way he keens. “You made me believe that I could be a good dad,” he admits. “I can’t wait to do this right.”

Steve brings a hand to Eddie’s cheek. His index finger softly tracing down the side of his face. “Love you,” he murmurs.

Turning his face, Eddie kisses the tip of Steve’s finger. “Love you, too,” Eddie easily says in return.

Sure, he got to be a rockstar, but he thinks that this life—Steve soft and middle aged and smiling at him, petting down their daughter’s back, cooing soft as if he’s not almost fifty—is much better than anything he could’ve ever dreamed. Maybe filling the hole in Steve’s soul, the remedy that their daughter brings—Maybe that heals something for Eddie, too.

💕—————💕

#stranger things #steddie #fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddielovemonth #day 16 #domestic fluff #domestic steddie #fluff

[solarmorrigan]

80s Vampire Movie Steddie AU

No listen hear me out

Steve is working the closing shift Friday night at Family Video (open until midnight. Fucking awful if you ask Steve)

It’s just after eleven and it’s been a surprisingly quiet night. It looks like he might actually get out of here on time for once, instead of being held up by annoying, indecisive customers who leave the store a mess

Aaaand he spoke too soon, because someone just came barreling in through front doors, panting and wild-eyed like they’re being chased by the hounds of hell (or the cops)

(Why do the weird ones always come in on Steve’s shift?)

But then Steve does a double take, because he actually recognizes this guy. Long hair, patched vest, chains–

“Munson?”

It is indeed Eddie Munson, resident drug dealer and fucking nerd of Hawkins High. He’d been doubled over, hands on his knees while trying desperately to catch his breath, but Steve’s voice seems to shock him back into action; he scrambles for the front doors and turns the lock with fumbling fingers

Shit

“Hey, man,” Steve says slowly, watching as Eddie backs away from the doors again, “I don’t want any trouble.”

Eddie looks at Steve for the first time since entering the store, and Steve is simultaneously reassured that he’s not about to be robbed, and put on edge by whatever put that look of terror on Eddie’s face

“There’s–” Eddie gasps, still trying to get his breath back, “There’s something after me!”

“Something? Like what? Like– like a dog?” Steve rounds the counter to stand by Eddie, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up (he still remembers those fucking vicious junkyard dogs he and Dustin’s friends had run into when they’d been out searching for Dustin’s cat; Steve still can’t hear barking without jumping a little)

“No, man.” Eddie shakes his head hard, hair flying. “It was – It was like–”

“Dude, spit it out.”

“Okay, look, I was doing a deal. Met my buyer at the park, next street over, right? And we’re just finishing up when this – he just looked like a guy, he walked up, and I thought we were busted, but instead, he – it–” Eddie swallows hard. “It grabbed my buyer and fucking – it ripped her fucking throat out.”

“What?”

“It had these crazy red eyes and fucking fangs and I think it was, like– drinking her blood?” Eddie’s voice is shrill, clearly still panicked, but all of Steve’s alarm quickly plummets into annoyance

He might not be a pop culture nerd, but the kids have forced him to sit through Fright Night enough times for Steve to know where this is going

“Drinking her blood, huh?” Steve asks flatly. “Like a vampire.”

“I fucking guess!” Eddie shouts, digging his fingers into his hair and tugging

Steve rolls his eyes. “Okay, man, I think you’ve been hitting your own stock a little too hard. Just take a couple of deep breaths and–”

“Harrington, I’m not making this up!” Eddie snaps, rounding on Steve. “I’m not fucking hallucinating, there’s something out there!”

Holding his hands up placatingly, Steve nods. “I know you’re freaked out right now, but there’s no such thing as vampires.”

“Tell that to the girl whose fucking throat just got ripped out!”

“Munson–”

The argument is interrupted when someone—or something—slams against the front doors

#summer is campy vampire movie season man I don't make the rules #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #but listen I specify 80s vampire movie because they just have a certain vibe y'know? #everyone in those movies was fucking unhinged and it showed. it was good #eddiesteve #solar wrote

[sam-loves-seb]

thinking about eddie, a decade later, maybe two, and corroded coffin has gone on to be a world famous metal band and eddie gets recognized as their front man everywhere he goes. he loves it, for a time, creating joy with his music, having fun on tour with his friends, listening to entire stadiums sing his words back to him. it's the life he always wanted, and he's grateful.

but it's not 1986 anymore, he's not some twenty year old kid with energy to burn. none of them are. jeff has two kids at home that miss him terribly when the band's on tour, and gareth is married now with a baby of his own on the way. they all still love the band that changed their lives, and the shitty lyrics from their first album they wrote in gareth's mom's garage back in hawkins, and all the music that came after. but now--it might be time for a break.

"We're not breaking up," Eddie announces at their last show. "Far from it. We just--we need a little time to be normal again. To enjoy this part of our life before it's gone. We'll be back, someday, I know we will," he says, and the band nods along with him, their hands held over their hearts as the stadium cheers around them. "Consider it a hiatus. And don't even think about forgetting us while we're gone."

So, Jeff flies home and gets to go to his son's first t-ball game, and Gareth heads back to LA to finish setting up the nursery before his wife goes into labor. And Eddie?

Well, Eddie goes home.

To a little house just outside of Indianapolis, bought in 1989 after they signed their first record deal. Three bedrooms, two car garage, one husband waiting in the driveway when his car pulls up.

(That last one didn't come with the house, but it is what makes this place a home. Eddie's home.)

It's not until Eddie collapses in Steve's arms does he realize how much he needs this. That he realizes how tired he is, and just how homesick he's become.

"I missed you," Steve murmurs into his hair, arms wrapped tight around his waist.

"I'm never leaving home again," Eddie whispers back, clutching onto Steve's polo shirt and letting the tears start to pool in his eyes.

"We both know that's not true," Steve teases, pressing a kiss to Eddie's temple.

"Not for a long while, then," Eddie tells him, lifting his head and cupping his husband's face.

Steve tilts his head, his brows furrowing a bit in confusion, a single crease forming between them. It's deeper than it was when they first got together, back when they were all still kids. His hair is different too, still floppy and styled and perfect, but shorter, only a little bit, and just starting to salt and pepper near his temples. It's barely noticeable, unless you're Eddie Munson and you spend every moment you can studying the planes of Steve Harrington's face.

"I'm retired," Eddie tells him, only half joking.

"You're thirty-nine."

"Semi-retired," he rolls his eyes, takes his husband's hand, and leads him into their house where their two cats are waiting for them. "And making the most of it. Starting now."

#should i make a part 2? #this isn't even what i initially wanted to write #part 2 is what i wanted to write #and yet #i cannot resist a setup #my steddie posts #my steddie hcs #my steddie fanfic #steddie #eddie munson #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #steddie fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #steddie au #steddie headcanon #steddie fandom

[tipsyleaf]

[What They're Like]

Getting A Cat

Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Jonathan Byers x (Fem) Reader

Stranger Things Masterlist

Summary: You ask for/get a cat and this is their response.

Content Warning: Talks of loneliness (Steves), talks of baby making (Eddies), cursing, pregnancy (Jonathans)

Steve Harrington

"I'm allergic to cats."

"But Baby, look at his little face!" You held up the flyer, pointing to the little kitten at the shelter nearby.

You'd been at this all morning following him around the house trying to convince him you needed a cat. Gushing about how cute he was. But Steve hadn't budged since he came back to him with the flyer earlier that morning at the supermarket.

His eyes rolled, trying his best not to look at the flyer, his face still a frown, but you knew he could barely hold his smile in. Steve always has a hard time saying no to you, but now it was for a really good reason. At least in his eyes.

"You can't tell me you wouldn't be happy coming home to me and that adorable little guy."

“We aren’t getting a cat.” Steve stated sternly as he turned his back on you, knowing damn well you would just keep at it if he let you. “I'm allergic to cats, you know we can't. Have. A cat.”

"You're allergic to pet dander. You can take medication for that." You corrected him, not quite ready to give up because of how much this meant to you. Steve knew for the longest time you wanted a cat. He even said he'd consider possibly letting you get one eventually.

Now was that time for a very good reason, but you're too proud to admit it to him.

"You said you'd let me get a cat eventually."

"I know what I said." Steve turns away from the kitchen sink, looking back at you again. You could tell he was having a hard time with telling you no for once. "I don't wanna walk around my house sneezing my head off if I just so happen to run out of medication."

Turning his attention back to the dishes as his words settled in. You hadn't even thought of that. Sadness settles in at the thought of your selfishness and now you feel crappy for a whole new reason. Accepting defeat, you sigh.

"Okay... I'll stop asking. I'm sorry." You walk over to the kitchen trashcan, crumple up the flyer and throw it in the trash. Steve turns his head watching the paper fall into the trashcan as you walk out of the kitchen and out of sight.

He sighs, looking back at the last dish from lunch as he shuts the faucet off and grabs the towel drying his hands off. Walking over to the trashcan, he reaches to pull out the flyer and uncrumpling it, staring at the shelter ad.

The kitten on the front was cute. Even he couldn't deny that. And he did say his girlfriend could get a cat eventually. Folding up the flyer, he stuffs it in his jeans pocket and starts to turn back to the sink.

Until he heard the familiar sound of a very specific Stevie Nicks album from your home office. One you were famous for playing when you were sad.

"She's upset..." He spoke to himself, walking out of the kitchen and down the short hallway into his office.

Standing in the doorway, he looks down at his girlfriend sitting on the floor dusting off one of the bookshelves.

“Hey," he spoke, finally breaking the silence between them, "are you mad or upset with me? Or just frustrated with the situation maybe?"

You can feel his concerned eyes trained on your back. You weren't mad at him for just looking out for himself for once, you wouldn't want him to suffer just to make you happy.

"I'm not mad or upset with you... I can't expect you to always say yes to me. I don't want you suffering for my sake."

Feeling that familiar burning in your nose, you stop talking.

'Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry.'

You repeated in your head.

'It's just a stupid cat...'

"It's fine Steve. It's just a cat."

He walked into the room and gently moved your arm so you would face him, immediately noticing your eyes looked glassy. He sat on the floor next to her. Tears start forming in your eyes when you see his concern turn to surprise.

"Babe... It's clearly not just about the cat anymore. Talk to me." Steve reaches up with his sweater sleeve over his hand and wipes your eyes as you sniffle.

"I'm sorry..." You swallow a lump in your throat trying your best to not start crying. Becoming inconsolable is not an option right now.

“Don’t apologize,” he whispers, “it’s okay.”

"It's just... I feel so childish saying this, but I'll be honest." Taking a deep breath, you try containing your tears for now.

"I've just been so lonely here all day by myself while working since you went back to teaching after Summer ended. And I thought I'd get used to it over time. But it's November and... I've just been lonely for 3 months and it won't go away."

God he hated seeing you upset like this.

Rubbing your back as he pulled you into a hug, he looked down at your face. Wiping your eyes again, it starts sinking in just how much this cat actually meant to you.

"So you thought maybe a cat would help?" He questions, you gently nod as he rubs your shoulder while nodding himself.

“Also, you’re not being childish… don’t even say that. I know you’ve wanted a cat for a while now… I guess I didn’t realize how much you wanted one or how much it meant to you.” He feels a bit dumb for not noticing it sooner. Leaning over, he kisses your forehead, making you smile again.

"Just please don't cave because I'm sad. I want you to take care of yourself first."

"Babe, I haven't even been tested for any of my allergies since I was like 13. I might not even be allergic anymore." He feels bad thinking about it now, he could have just gotten a test and save you all these tears.

"Listen, I'll set up an appointment with my allergist and get tested. And then we can go from there. I'll even get you 30 cats if that is what'll make you happy." You laugh at his enthusiasm as he gives you a tight squeeze of reassurance.

"I think that's a bit excessive but I appreciate your support."

A few months later...

"Where the hell is he?" You've looked everywhere for this goddamn cat. In your office, the living room, his favorite sunspot in the mudroom. At one point, you even opened the fridge and made sure he didn't climb inside somehow.

"Hey Babe?" You ask, stopping in the doorway of your shared bedroom, seeing your boyfriend grading papers at his small desk against the wall.

"Yeah?" He reaches over, turning off his radio, the light in the room catching his circle frame glasses as he takes them off the bridge of his nose.

"Have you seen Spitz? I can't find him anywhere." You step into the room as Steve turns in his desk chair, revealing the large gray Burmese cat in his lap. Slowly stirring in his sleep, as Steve used his free hand to pet him.

"He's been in here with me all morning." Steve smirks, leaning on the arm of his chair.

"Little shit..." You glare down at Spitz as he stretches awake in Steve's lap. Sitting up, he looks over at you with bright green eyes and a soft purr.

"You need him?" Steve asked, petting the cat's head lightly.

"Yeah, I wanted to cuddle on the couch with him." Steve's eyes lit up at your request, almost like he's excited about the interruption.

"You mind if I join you? I need a break from these essays. If I have to read one more time about how hot Patrick Swayze was as Darry I'm gonna lose my mind. It's like all of these kids rented the movie and didn't even bother reading The Outsiders."

"You're the one who wanted to teach 8th grade English classes." You smirk as he gives you an evil side eye.

"Why are you so beautiful even when you're being mean to me?" Steve dramatically tossed his glasses onto his desk as you chuckle. He scoops up Spitz onto his shoulder as he stands up and walks over to you.

"You're gonna start sneezing if you get him too close to your face."

Steve turns rubbing his face into the side of the cat, just to spite you. Spitz purrs louder, just enjoying the weird sense of affection. Laughing, he moves his head away, blowing harsh air out. Just trying to get a few loose pieces of cat hair off his mouth.

"You heard from the doctor, I'm not allergic anymore and we got a hypoallergenic cat just to be on the safe side." He smiles proudly as he leans in, kissing your lips quickly and carries Spitz out to the couch.

Following not close behind. Reaching the living room, you sit on the couch, leaning back against the arm, you throw your legs onto the soft plush of the seat cushions.

Steve moves over, setting Spitz down on your chest. You watch as Steve climbs over you, wrapping his arms around your hips and lays his head on your stomach with a content sigh. Spitz starts turning and moves down, jumping onto Steve's back and lying down.

"Well, now you're trapped. Spitz has chosen his favorite for the day." You sigh, making Steve laugh, it's been this way since you got him.

"What can I say, he has great taste." Steve smiles, earning a flick to the forehead.

Even if the cat prefers Steve most days, you don't care. What matters is everything worked out in your favor. Even if Steve was still allergic, you had a feeling the cat would still be in the house. Only because Steve loves you so much.

But now, having Spitz here, you're content.

Eddie Munson

"Fuck our landlord, we're getting the cat."

Eddie grunts as he pushes the amp into the back of his van. It was too cold to be doing this shit by himself. He walks back over to the sidewalk, grabbing the last amp and hoists it into the back of the van. Closing it up tight. Now all he had to do was pick up his girlfriend and head to his show in the city.

Letting out a harsh breath, he leaned against the door, collecting himself. Patting his pocket, he felt his keys, thanking himself for remembering this time. Climbing into the van, he slides his keys into the ignition hoping for his old shit box to kick on in the cold.

"Please work, I don't want her walking home in the cold just to call fucking triple A."

He sighs in relief as the engine kicks on, no issue this time. He turns the radio up and waits for the van to warm up. Soon he starts thinking back about his girlfriend calling him earlier from work on her break. Saying something about a surprise she had.

Not long later, he's out front of the local tailor, the door flings open as you come rushing out in your thick dark red parka jacket. The snow starts to come down, sticking to your hair and lashes before you can climb into the van.

"Hey Beautiful, how was work?" Eddie asks, leaning over as you move in giving him his usual kiss.

"Long, boring, usual. But I have my surprise!" You unzip your parka, starting to frantically look around your inner pockets.

"God damnit, where is it?!" Finally, you feel the glossy texture pulling it out of your jacket pocket. You excitedly smile by kicking your feet for a sec and showing him. He takes the polaroid you hand him and turns it over.

A cute little black kitten stares back at him with big yellow eyes as it sits on a red blanket of some kind.

"Aww." Eddie coos, looking at the picture and back at you. "One of your coworkers got a cat?"

"One of my coworker's cats had kittens and she's having a hard time getting this little girl adopted. Isn't she the cutest?" Eddie smiles with a nod as he looks back at the polaroid.

"How could anyone not want her? She's adorable."

'Poor thing must be lonely...' He thinks, his smile getting brighter and bigger as he looks at the picture.

You look at Eddie as he seems to be really admiring this cat. The smile on his face almost reminds you of how he looks at you in a way.

"Eddie."

"Hmm?" His attention comes back to you, smiling at him as he's still smiling wide.

"Do you want the cat?" You chuckle as he looks back at the picture, knowing how this was going to end.

"Yeah, yeah I do. She's cute and... I feel bad no one wants her." He slowly sits the picture down on the console as you nod.

"Soft spot for outcasts... Even animals, huh?" You smirk as he sighs, leaning towards the car window.

"Shut up." He grumbled, pulling away from the tailor shop, glancing back over at you, he asked lowly. "Do you want a cat?"

"Of course I do, she's precious. But you know our landlord's gonna be pissed if he finds out we have a cat." Eddie smirks, raising his eyebrows. You're just trying to be the responsible one, unlike your boyfriend.

"Fuck our landlord, we're getting the cat."

A few weeks later...

"Hey!" Eddie whispered aggressively at the cat sitting in front of his old acoustic guitar. Batting at the strings, causing a low thumping noise from the headstock hitting the wall to echo in the living room of the small apartment.

"It's 4 in the morning, it's too early for this." He bends over, picking up the black kitten off the floor and into his hand. Turning to look into his eyes, she stared at him. Ears pinned to the top of her head, pupils nearly swallowing her yellow eyes.

"Orion Judas Munson, if you don't calm down I'm putting you in time out." He tried to sound stern but her attention snapped away from him and back to the acoustic guitar, her favorite toy.

"Look at me when I'm talking to you little shit." Eddie stares at Orion as she turns back to him and immediately starts biting his fingers.

It would hurt if it weren't for years of guitar and built up calluses. Sighing, he turns, walking back to bed with Orion in his hands as she continues her playful biting. He couldn't help but smile at her.

Even if she is an ornery little shit, she's still his ornery little shit.

Laying down Eddie sets her down in-between him and you.

You stir in your sleep, turning your head over your shoulder from laying on your side.

"Everything okay?" You ask, very tired sounding.

"Everything's fine Sweetheart. Orions just being herself again. Just go back to sleep." Eddie yawns as he feels the kitten start attacking his hand again.

You turn over as Eddie relaxes on his side, just letting Orion do her thing until she eventually gets tired.

"How can one small thing like her be so much trouble?" You ask, blinking the sleep from your eyes as you yawn.

"I asked myself the same thing about you when we first started dating." Eddie says, giving a soft smile in your direction before he notices Orion stops biting his fingers.

You roll your eyes with a smile before looking down at the cat curling up closer to Eddie.

Orion starts softly purring as Eddie scratches the top of her head.

"Just had to pacify her for a little while." He chuckles at looking back at you as you just smile at him and reach out to rub his forearm with your nails.

"Worst then a damn baby." He adds with a heavy sigh as he finally shuts his eyes, relaxing on his pillow.

"A cat? Really?" You laugh, shutting your eyes, staying it as a joke. "Does that mean you actually want to have a baby then?"

"I mean..." Eddie's eyes open, looking in your direction as he leaned over. "I wouldn't be against trying."

"Not with the cat in bed!"

Jonathan Byers

"I don't know, I've never owned a cat before!"

Jonathan stared at the mountain of white and brown fur lying belly up in the only streak of light on the living room floor.

"So... Is this like... All they do usually?" He questions, looking back at you folding a basket of laundry at the kitchen counter.

"Yeah pretty much. They just usually sleep unless they get sudden bursts of energy."

You look over at Patches, a pet of a coworker who asked you to watch her while on vacation. The cats had only been in the house for a few hours and Jonathan was fascinated by her so far.

"Huh..." Reaching for the end table, he grabs his camera, standing slowly up off the couch as he raises the camera to his eye.

The cat suddenly turned on her side. Jonathan groans.

"God damnit. That would have been such a nice picture..." Jonathan turned back to you as you were about to lift the basket of laundry. "No no no!"

Quickly dropping his camera on the couch cushion, as he grabs the basket from your hands, setting it back down.

"You heard what the doctor said. Nothing strenuous. You're supposed to be on bed rest anyway, go lay down." You stare at him, hand on your hip rubbing your very round stomach.

"Jonathan. It's a basket of laundry." He turns his head, giving you that kicked puppy look you can never resist.

'He's just trying to help because he's concerned. Don't get impatient with him.'

"I'm sorry, thank you for trying to help... But she's 4 days overdue. Walking around isn't going to hurt me. If anything, it helps."

"I know, I'm just so paranoid. I just want her here already." Jonathan sighs, picking the basket up and heads towards his shared bedroom.

You watch him set the basket on the bed and start putting laundry away from your spot next to the counter. Turning your head, you see Patches back to her position from before.

Waddling over to the couch, you grab Jonathan's camera, putting the strap around the back of your neck, you aim and shoot, finally capturing what your husband's been trying to achieve the past few hours.

You smile proud of yourself as you admire the adorableness this cat is. Walking closer, you realize she isn't running from you.

'He'd be so happy to have a close up.'

It's the least you could do for him with how on edge he's been the past few days.

Stepping closer, you squat, aim the camera at her precious face and snap the picture with a smile of admiration.

Satisfied with your work, you try to stand when you feel a... gusp of liquid suddenly fall out of you and onto the carpeted floor. Your eyes go wide staring at the spot under you.

"Oh... Oh no... Jonathan!" Quick footsteps come out of the room from behind you.

"Oh my God!" Jonathan rushes over to you, helping you stand up straight. "Is that your... Did it!?"

He can't seem to form a proper sentence as you feel relatively calm oddly enough.

"My water broke." His eyes go wide, he's obviously trying not to panic at the moment and he's not doing the best.

"Okay. Okay. Okay." He keeps repeating himself, looking around the living room.

"The bags in the hall closet." You start walking towards the front door as he jumps into action.

"The bag! Yes, the bag! I have my keys." He quickly moves to the hall closet, grabbing the bag and heads out the front door, shutting it behind him.

You stand there for a second, amazed almost... By how he forgot his pregnant wife.

"You! I forgot you, I'm so sorry!" He looks embarrassed as he comes rushing through the front door, putting an arm around you to help you outside. You can't help but laugh. It's odd seeing Jonathan start panicking since he's usually the calm one between you two.

"We should drive past where Hopper's posted at the edge of town and he can let Mom know. She'll call everyone..."

Reaching the front door, he looked back at Patches on the floor, completely unbothered by the sudden chaos.

"Do we... Take the cat with us?" Your head snaps around as you're about to step outside.

"To the hospital!?"

"I don't know, I've never owned a cat before!"

A year later...

"Jude, look at Mommy!" Your daughter lifts her head from her toys on the floor, looking up at you shaking a rattle. Jonathan quickly takes a picture of her in her special birthday outfit. The '1 year' crown on her head is a little too big for her.

You both laugh as she smiles up at you, the sweet moment soon ruined by the sound of nails against the kitchen floor as a short-haired Tortoiseshell cat comes running into the living room. Tumbling over nothing and launching herself off the floor, her back arched as she stared at her owners.

"Hi Bowie." Jonathan laughed looking at the cat, then back to Jude. The baby just stared at the cat, reaching her tiny hand out as if she could pet her from across the room. Bowie relaxed, walking over and rubbed against his smallest owner.

You both admire the cute sight that is your cat and daughter. Jonathan took a few pictures of the two of them together. Your eyes light up as an idea pops into your head.

"We should start making family picture Christmas cards this year." You smile, looking at Jonathan as he lowers his camera looking at you, very obviously amused by the idea.

"Buttercup," he starts, taking a soft breath before meeting your eyes and continuing, "it's August. Christmas is 5 months away. As much as I admire and love how you're planning ahead... Maybe not this early?"

"Aw c'mon Jon. Just picture it. Jude and Bowie in matching Christmas sweaters. It would be adorable!"

"You want Bowie in the picture?" He asks, chuckling softly as if he didn't already know the answer.

"She's apart from this family just as much as the rest of us. Aren't you Bow?" You both look over as Bowie freezes from grooming her smallest owner. Her mismatched eyes grow wide as she bolts off into another room in the house without even looking back.

"And to think... You didn't want her at first." Jonathan teases you before standing up to pull Jude into his arms.

"We just had Jude, she just fell into our lap at a weird time. I don't love her any less. I was just scared of juggling her and a newborn." Jonathan nodded, looking at Jude with a broad smile.

"God it's so hard to think she's 1 already." You turn, walking over to the counter, grabbing Jude's babybook the two of you had been looking at earlier that morning.

Flipping it open, you see the first picture of you holding her for the first time after just giving birth. Jonathan leaning over you from your left side.

Jude Joyce Byers August 26th 1993, so lovingly written in cursive under the photo.

You sniffle as Jonathan walks over with Jude.

"I know, she's already growing up." Jonathan reaches over, wiping his eyes with his thumb.

"You sound your mother." You say, stifling back a sob as you cling to your husband's open side. He chuckles, rubbing your back and kissing your forehead.

"I know, but at least mom isn't here to start crying with you. Not til later at the party."

"Geema!" Jude speaks, her 4 tooth smile lighting up the room. Jonathan and you immediately look at her. Both baffled.

"You... Did she just say Geema?!" You ask, a smile spreading on your face as Jonathan silently nods.

"Your first word on your birthday!?" Jonathan sniffs now, his eyes welling with tears quickly as he tries blinking them away and looking at the ceiling.

"Jonathan, it's okay. This is a good thing. She's just developing quickly." He shakes his head.

"She's 1 right now, but next thing you know she'll be graduating high school and bringing people home to meet us." You cover your mouth just watching your husband trying desperately to keep his composer. Jonathan looks down at Jude as he shakes his head.

"How about we not worrying about years and years from now?" You suggest, as he sighs, his face turning stern.

"You're not allowed to date anyone till you're 30." Jonathan tickles his daughter's stomach, cute giggling filling the living room as he smiles.

Bowie comes running in out of nowhere, bolting through the living room and grabbing all your attention. She runs into the kitchens, nails hitting the linoleum floor. A hollow crashing noise is heard in the kitchen. You sigh as you look at Jonathan.

"Leave it to Bowie to ruin a sentimental moment."

#steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader #jonathan byers x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #jonathan byers x fem!reader #steve harrington #eddie munson #jonathan byers

[resident-gay-bitch]

a steddie modern au idea that i probably won’t write because i just Don’t have the time or energy for another wip but i’m putting it out here so i remember it, and if anyone wants to write this or gets inspired Please tag me so i can read it <3

okay so imagine this right, rockstar eddie & popstar steve - on complete opposite ends of the music spectrum, forcibly brought together by their label to collaborate on an album!!

read more under the cut :)

( i basically wore the fic lol )

okay, eddie’s in his band right with CC, and they’ve come so far and are doing so well in the metal industry. eddie’s made quite the reputation for himself as the loud, bash, pushy, stuck up, bitchy rockstar who makes his own rules, parties fucking hard, and is a certified sex symbol across the globe.

once on stage, playing out under the stars, a bat flew down onto stage and it was freaking gareth out so eddie Caught it with his hands and held it up simba style, named it ozzy, sent it back off into the night sky and dubbed the bat the bands - and eddie’s own - personal mascot. this was way earlier on in their career so metal snobs started calling him an ozzy osbourne wannabe - the prissy Princess of Darkness. untill he started making way and then the name stuck and one time eddie came out onstage in full pink princess dress and crown and played their gnarliest show yet.

steve harrington though? he’s an angel. the youngsters drool over him and have pictures of soft sweaters and stawberry lipglossed steve on their walls, middle aged women look at him and wished their husbands could be the kind soul that the world knows him to be. the “men” call him a queer and pathetic, and when people ask steve about it in interviews he just smiles and shrugs and says in his soft voice “if that’s how they want to perceive me, that’s okay. i know who i am, i’m just steve. why should we spread hate when we can just be nice?”

girls from highschool started posting about their own experiences with the soft boy sensation that is steve, saying he was the kindest boy they’ve ever dated, he brings girls flowers and kisses them on the doorstep and Holds Their Hands during sex. gen z start calling him a “king 💅” whenever Anything comes out about steve because he just Can’t do anything wrong, and eventually he gets dubbed the King of Pop.

eddie munson is best friends and living with five time gold medalist olympian chrissy cunningham, the gymnast young girls look up too. they’re often speculated to be dating, and half the world thinks they’re actually married concidering they have a cat together, often wear matching outfits when out, and hold hands when walking around. one time eddie was captured giving her a forehead kiss when standing in line for smoothies. but concidering eddie is also seen leaving venues with girls under his arm, and chrissy following behind him with a couple of guys, the rest of the world says they can’t be. who knows, maybe their open or polly, it’s the twenty first century everybody! (but in truth eddie’s walking with chrissy’s hookups under his arms, and chrissy’s chatting away with the guys eddie plans on ruining for the night, and they’ll swap once sage inside the trailer)

steve has a house right next door to up and coming actress robin buckley, and they took down the fence between their homes and built a corridor combining them. they’re as close as chrissy and eddie seem to be, but after robin was seen making out with one of her female costars at a red carpet after party, and wearing a lesbian flag pin on her jacket in paparazzi pics, those rumours have died significantly.

chrissy cunningham is in love with steve harrington, she thinks he’s the perfect man, “if i had to date a guy, eddie, it would be that one and that one Only. i’ll excuse the penis if he looks at me with those pretty boy eyes.” she has posters of him on her wall, listens to his music on the regular, and eddie knows way more about him than he’d like to admit. not that he pays much attention, just when chrissy plays his latest single on an endless loop and quotes things he says on the daily, a guys gonna pick up on stuff.

robins little sister, max, who by platonic-soulmate-law, is steve’s little sister is Obsessed with CC. she listens to them all the time, along with a bunch of other metal and punk bands, and has a poster of him shredding on her wall. her boyfriend lucas gets jealous about it all the time and even took to learning one of his solos on steve’s guitar.

the thing is, though, eddie and steve are perceived the way they are because their label actually Sucks and they’re signed in for too many more years to find a way out.

queer aligations got shot around about Everyone in CC. people think they all fuck guys, people think they all fuck eachother, people think so many things and the label twists and turns those stories to make them “acceptable”.

the thing is though, they’re all so fucking gay… and they all have fucked eachother. eddie and gareth were boyfriends back in highschool, jeff and grant have been together for the last couple of years and they’re talking marriage. they’ve all hooked up with eachother separately, they’ve all gotten together for a few foursomes, they’ve all gangbanged a bunch of groupies of Multiple genders together, so eddie Knows where the rumours come from. he wants to be out, hates hiding, thinks it’s stupid and backwards and Who Cares if they loose a few followers? those aren’t the kinds of people eddie wants listening to his music anyway.

it’s only when gareth settled down with his new wife and popped out kid number one that the rumours about him started to die out… even though, before the kid came around, gareth and his wife would sleep with eddie, jeff, and grant like… all the time.

the only queer speculations about steve are the ones coming from the “alpha males” and younger queer boys that connect with him and want someone like steve to look up too and say “he’s queer too, we’re the same, and it’s okay”. but his label hasn’t given steve a voice… like at all. he got signed because of his gorgeous voice and soft lyrics about losing love and being alone, and being conflicted in your sexuality, and then they signed him and his contract states that he’s Not allowed to write Any of his own lyrics. not a single one of his own songs have been published, to this day.

the label tried to restrict eddie like that too, saying his lyrics were too controversial, but CC refuses to be fake. they agreed to only write songs about death and drugs and sex and satan and blah blah blah metal. eddie’s never really published much from the heart, but he sneaks metaphors in there all the time, that only hardcore fans can pick up on.

the labels getting bored of steve. it’s just the same music, the same tours, the same questions in every interview. he’s Boring them. it’s only a small amount of time before the world gets bored of him too, plus, it’s not like he’ll stay this pretty forever. they want to discard him - he’s locked in by contract though, has to release one more album and tour before they can be done with him.

and then grant dies. it’s a horrible accident, car crash, some drunk driver t-boned him and flipped his car off the road. it Breaks jeff. it breaks all of them, but mostly jeff. he’s distraught, turns to drugs, ODs and it’s then that gareth and eddie send him to rehab.

there’s no corroded coffin without grant, the band breaks up. the three of them Won’t play stadium tours and write albums together without him, and- “are you fucking CRAZY? of course we’re not Replacing him, get a fucking grip.”

it takes Months for any of them to get to a point where they can be seen in society again. it’s then that the label says they Have to bring one more album an to the table. but they’re willing to drop CC if eddie goes solo. he’s the face of the band anyway, the voice, “he’s who the women want, guys.”

eddie agrees, because he’s legally obligated too. and he writes the most dumbfuck album anyone’s ever heard. it’s all preschool-esque lyrics and about farm animals and potty training and it’s also just fucking Gay - like there’s one song that just goes on and on an on about some guys ballsack. he records a demo to go with them, has his guitar perfectly out of tune and sings so terribly his voice cracks, if singing is what you can actually call it. the label gets So fucking mad at him.

so here they are, newly solo artist eddie munson, the fucking prick, stuckup rockstar, entitled rich as Princess of Darkness, and steve harrington, the sweet soft boy turned boring, King of Pop; both locked in for another album, and tour, and Useless.

they’re going to Lose the label money at this rate.

so they try something. something that will bring in Buckets.

CC and steve harrington are the labels two biggest musicians. they’re constantly fighting to be top of the charts, shooting past eachother with every new album, new single, new tour, new pap photos, new relationship spectacle, each red carpet appearance… evetything. They are who everyone’s obessed with, they are who have the Biggest markets. every woman on the globe has to be obsessed with at least One of them.

why not pool those two fanbases together? get them to collaborate on a song together, the fans will go crazy and it will surely break the charts. the company will get So fucking rich.

but if they can make buckets off one song… than why not a whole album? why not make them Tour together.

which is how eddie and steve find themselves nervously sitting in a recording studio together one afternoon, going through introductions and contracts and provosos with the label and blah blah blah boring rules and legal shit.

eddie’s dreading working with this guy. he’s a total Phonie! King of Pop? who does he think he is, this harry styles wanna be. sure he writes poetic shit about love and making soft love to women, but it’s all so vapid. eddie Knows music, and he knows when lyrics are bullshit. i mean Sure, eddie knows a good handful of his songs on guitar, but that’s Only so he can play them to chrissy because it’s special to her. doesn’t make his music Good - and that’s not even eddie being a snob, he can vibe with pop, taylor swift is a lyrical goddess, he is an all too well girlie and he and chrissy scream the ten minuet version in the car together late at night.

he’s also dreading the clear over kindness. steve’s meant to be this darling angel, and sure that’s why the girls and gays love him so much, but eddie doesn’t think he could Handle someone being so fucking nice up in his face like that because he’ll Know it’s fake. he won’t be able to tell if the guys actually being nice because he actually gets along with eddie, or if he’s being nice because it’s his job.

and steve is dreading working with eddie because eddie is supposed to be one of the Hardest people to work for. he’s stuck up and dickish and Snarky and so fucking confident and a Rockstar for fucks sake. steve is way too tired to deal with a cunt right now - let alone Tour with one.

everything about this meeting and collaboration is Completely under the blanket. the label doesn’t want to announce Anything until they have a good album from them, because they know how hot headed and temperamental eddie is - given the last thing he gave them, which was immediately scrapped.

so they meet, sign a bunch of non disclosures. they’re not even allowed to tell robin and chrissy that they’re Meeting eachother - they do, though, but it doesn’t go past those two.

they’re left alone, once everything is signed. they’ve been standoffish, haven’t said more than ten words to eachother. eddie’s all glares and attitude, steve’s all soft smiles and bats of his eyelids.

they both want to be sick - this is torture.

everything’s signed. everything’s legally a secret. they’re behind closed doors in a recording studio to themselves to “get creative”. and so the masks come down.

turns out, steve is Not nice. three minuets into their alone time, eddie kicks his feet up onto the desk by steve and steve… he picks up a pen and uses it to push eddie’s shoes off the table and away from him with a bitchy glare.

steve’s Bitchy. he’s got bite and he’s So fucking sarcastic. he keeps looking eddie over and scrunching his nose, he keeps making snide comments about eddie’s over sexual behaviour and drug culture. he even goes so far as to insult eddie’s hair, “the eighties called, van halen wants his wig back”.

and eddie’s… we’ll, he’s a little turned on by it.

to the world, steve’s this perfect little soft boy who sings about love and sugar and spice and all things nice, but when there’s a contract saying eddie’s legally obliged to shut his trap about Anything steve related, he lets his true colours show.

and steve? well, once he sends out a Bunch of snarky remarks eddie’s way, he’s realising that eddie’s not reacting the way he’s been conditioned to believe eddie would. he’s expecting mean quips back, jabs at his career and “queerness” and pastel colour pallet, maybe even a meltdown. but eddie just sits there slack jawed and actually.. encouragers steve’s insults and bitchy nature. and eddie’s kinda sweet, when steve tells him to keep his shoes off the table, eddie complies and actually apologises. he even pulls out a random compliment, telling steve he actually has a really nice voice.

and he’s making steve nervous… he’s getting butterflies.

they talk for a little while longer before eddie conducts a plan. they have to go home and listen to each others music and pick a few favourites or memorable things, stuff they think they can get behind mixing with their own style. they need something with Both of their sounds combined.

steve only has a few albums out, so eddie says he’ll listen to them all. corroded coffin though? they have Heaps of music out, so eddie writes down a list of their top albums and some of His favourites from other albums that he thinks steve might be able to get behind.

steve goes home and recruits robin to listen with him, gets max to send through all of her favourites and Why. he writes down a little list with his top five songs and a couple quotes and times where solos fucking rock. by the time he’s done he’s got about an a4 page worth of notes.

eddie goes home and he and chrissy spend the night analysing All of steve’s music. they print out the lyrics to every song and scribble all over them, listing to his two albums, one EP, and a single, on an endless loop. chrissy is Always happy to spend hours talking about Steve Harrington, and eddie is the biggest fucking nerd and loves analysing music and figuring everything about it out. he learns chords, flips some of steve’s songs to make them a little rougher so he can show steve and give him a taste of the stuff they Could create.

steve feels so embarrassed with the lack of shit he’s got when eddie slams down a Folder full of notes. but eddie hurriedly stops steve’s apologising and looks at his notes and Actually awes at them “you like this song? it’s your favourite? i wrote that secretly about my fuck off dad and missing my mamma- you really like it? gosh, not many people do… this is so cool, i can’t believe you listened to it”

eddie starts talking about - and dissecting - steve’s music, telling him things about his lyrics He didn’t actually know. eddie tells him they’re all kinda… vappid. like steve doesn’t sing them with Emotion. they don’t come from the heart, they’re just stories. steve tells him he’s not allowed to write his own stuff, even though he has books full of lyrics at home.

eddie has an entire wall of his house turned into a bookshelf filled with journals for lyrics and writing music, different shelf’s are for different moods and different journals are for different themes.

they start to jam and eddie plays a few of steve’s songs. they figure out some stuff and eddie declares they’re going to make “the most outer worldly album that’s ever graced our mortal plane, king stevie, i can promise you that” - he gives steve a mission. he has to go home and find One song he’s written that he’d like the world to know about, and text pictures of it to eddie - and eddie will make sure it’s label appropriate (if it’s not, he’ll sit down with steve and they’ll tweak it to hide controversial themes behind metaphors) and tell their boss he wrote it so they can put it on the album; steve will sing it of course, and it will come from the heart.

they talk about their experiences over the next few weeks. it’s basically paid fucking therapy. eddie talks about grant, talks about CC, talks about highschool, talks about chrissy. steve talks about robin, talks about highschool, talks about the mall fire he got caught in, he talks about his abuser billy hargrove. eddie opens up about his own abuser, reefer rick, his old supplier. steve opens up about getting cheated on with the first girl he loved. eddie opened up about getting cheated on by reefer. steve opens up about neglectful parents and eddie opens up about his time through the foster system and having a druggie mother and a dad in jail.

that’s what they write music about.

steve finally sends eddie a song. it’s a song about learning to care about yourself. he wrote it when robin stepped into his life, when she conditioned him to gain his self respect back and love himself. it’s about how fucking Important loving yourself - no matter your difference or your experiences may be.

eddie cries when he reads it, he thinks it’s perfect just the way it is. the few undertones of queerness he’s picking up on from deep analysis will go right over the labels heads.

eddie suggests he write a song completely on his own for the album too, one without steve’s imput. then they both have one song that’s completely Theirs. he writes his song about grant, it’s an ode to him, a goodbye, and hidden behind metaphors and poetic tear stained lyrics, it’s about having your true self hidden by masks and flashy cameras and men in tight suits; it’s about jeff, it’s about their love, it’s about the love eddie had for grant, it’s about the love they all had for eachother, it’s about the bandanna they all wear in their back pockets from time to time.

steve reads it and he… he gets it.

he knows eddie’s queer, eddie let it slip the second time they met, when he was talking about another of his songs about the first guy he had sex with. so it’s not a shock to steve to read this kinda shit.

but when eddie’s reading steve’s lyrics, it’s kinda shocking to him. steve hadn’t come out, even though he’s given ample opportunity, hadn’t mentioned anything about men and talked plenty about women, so eddie just fairly assumed he was straight.

on the last day of recording the album, they’re in the studio together. all the backtracks are done and they’re just recording lyrics. they’re both there in the sound booth with headphones on, and eddie’s singing his ode to grant, steve backing up his vocals, but letting eddie take centre stage. eddie cries and takes a good break before they can record steve’s song - steve’s song that they think eddie wrote.

they record steve’s song, eddie eddie backs up his vocals occasionally when asked, but it’s Steve’s song. its litterally titled steve’s song, because eddie felt sick with the idea of Actually taking credit for something steve created. he’s only doing it for legal reasons and because he Needs steve to get his lyrics out into the world. they worked on all the other songs together - the label doesn’t know that - but this is Steve’s. it should have been on his first album.

steve cries whilst singing it, because it comes from the heart. he sings it with raw fucking emotion and.. oh jeez, it makes eddie cry too. steve finished singing and eddie pulls him into a tight hug and whispers to steve so no one else can hear “that’s the best you’ve ever sounded, stevie”.

what they didn’t know was that their manager snapped a photo of their hug and sent it to rolling stone along with an announcement of a new album and upcoming tour.

the internet goes bazerk! “the King of Pop and the Princess of Darkness? what an odd pair… someone write me this fan fiction rn.”

eddie and steve go home that night feeling a little useless. they just spent weeks crammed up in the recording studio together, making music and talking about things they are too scared to tell the world, and now they’re… no where near eachother.

they both sit there in their houses and come to the realisation that they Don’t just think the other is only adorable and totally their type… that maybe they were falling in love and feel kinda empty without eachother.

they start texting, chatting, keeping eachother updated on their lives - mostly on their platonic soulmates. steve prints off a selfie he and eddie took together one night a few drinks in, guitars on their laps, cheesy grins on their faces, and signs it for chrissy - she Freaks Out.

eddie sends over a CC sample hoodie he had lying around that ended up getting discontinued before selling at all, and he signed the spot over the heart with fabric pen for max.

the single drops - steve’s song - and fans go crazy. steve’s fans And eddie’s fans have collectively come together to Scream about it. it reaches top of the charts in under a week. who knew a bunch of teenage girls could be so powerful?

the tour gets announced - tickets sell Fast.

the rest of the album drops and the label hosts a party for it. steve and eddie bring their other half’s and robin and chrissy hit it off immediately, and they start dating at a lesbian pace. steve and eddie get plastered and wake up cuddling - fully clothed, but cuddling - in… chrissy’s bed? they barely even remember going back to eddie’s place, but when they go out to the kitchen they find out that they ended up keeping the party going here - robin and chrissy are curled up together half naked on the couch.

they keep texting. they can’t stay away from eachother. they know the flirting is bad and helpless, but they Can’t Help it. they’re both smitten and falling more and more each day.

the tour starts and there are strict rules they have to oblige by, via steve’s original contact. eddie breaks half of them.

one of the rules happens to be Zero queerness - but that’s the same for eddie’s contract. they’re also both talked too about acting too “gay” on stage, they’re not allowed too. whatever that means.

the tour is fucking amazing. they both love looking out to the crowd and seeing all the different people. there are teenage girls in pastel skirts and sparkly dresses with bedazzled glasses and friendship charm bracelets, there are girls with dark eyeliner and ripped stockings and chunky silver jewlery and an obscene amount of leather, there are boys in lightwash jeans and crop tops, and boys in black ripped jeans and the wrong band tees with jewlery all over their faces, their are middle aged mothers wine drunk, there are older men with goatees, there are father there with their daughters and mothers there with their sons, and So, So many more different people. it makes them both emotional.

after show four of their massive tour, they’re both having a few drinks in eddie’s trailer and listening to music and continuing the game of truth or dare robin and chrissy started before they got distracted and wandered off to steve’s trailer. they get drunker, and gigglier, and closer, and more lose lipped, and steve tells eddie he’s bi, and eddie tells steve he’s the most beautiful (inside and out) man he’s ever met, and they kiss.

they spent the rest of their tour keeping their relationship VERY secret. steve’s trailer is now permanently robin and chrissy’s, and he and eddie share eddie’s. no one suspects a thing, they’re both used to keeping their queer relations under wraps.

they say i love you in the last month of their tour. when they get home, they want to move in together. they’re going to buy their own mansion with all the fucking money this albums made them, and they’re planning what their room will look like, and their kitchen, and their garden, and their future. steve wants kids, always has. eddie’s scared to be a dad, but he thinks he’d like to try with steve, just not for a few more years. they both think marriage is stupid, but they’re also both hopeless romantics who have each pictured and planned their own weddings so they think they might even get married one day. they get matching tattoos, a little crown on eddie’s ribs under his heart for steve, and a tiara in the same place on steve for eddie.

the label asks to sign them both on for a few more albums, another tour. they’re bringing in So much money.

eddie says no, straight away. he’s not letting steve get suffocated by these fuckers anymore. there’s nothing here for him anyway. he’s already working with gareth and jeff on creating their own label, it’s almost up and running.

for steve’s birthday, three nights before the tour ends, eddie tells him he’s now the co-ceo of his own production company, named after grant, to carry on his legacy. eddie slides over a wad of paper and tells steve he wants the first artist they sign to be steve - he works on his own conditions, writes whatever music he wants, sings from the heart, writes them one album and then once that’s done (when steve is Ready for it to be done) they’ll draw up another contract, if that’s what steve wants. steve signs, starts working on his first album right away.

he lies in bed that night with eddie’s head on his chest, and they’re scribbling down lyrics about sex in satin sheets in the dark of a tour trailer, and falling in love.

they perform their last show, and they cry hopelessly.

that’s it. they’re done. their no longer signed to the label, evetythings Over.

eddie’s wearing the tiara steve put on his head on their First show, he’s also wearing leather and stompers and no shirt. steve’s wearing lightwash blue jeans and a flowey shirt made of lace and a crooked crown on top of his perfect hair. they’re both heaving, and crying black mascara and eyeliner tracks down their cheeks, and sweating buckets. but they both think the other is so fucking beautiful and they can’t resist it

it’s not like they’re locked in by the label anymore anyway.

eddie shoved his guitar off and lays it very neatly on the ground before full pelt running for steve and just Kissing him. the crowd goes fucking crazy. they loose their shit and it breaks the media.

“i love you…” eddie pants into his mouth and kisses him again “i love you so fucking much baby”

“i love you too.” steve says and then he swiftly drops to one knee, pulls a ring box out of his pocket and asks eddie to marry him

it’s there in stage, with a the most diverse and random crowd in the world, sweaty and hot and in love, that eddie and steve break history. not only did they Just come out to the world as queer… and dating, they’re also the first famous queer couple to get engaged on stage like this.

so yeah… that’s my “little” fic idea :)

and then they obviously get married and get their mansion or whatever and adopt a kid a few years into the marriage, when eddie feels stable enough to be able to responsibily raise a little gremlin. she’s totally a little menace like eddie, but she’s for sure got his pure sweetness when she’s with people she trusts and loves but holy shit is she steve’s kid, because she’s gotta be more snarky and more bitchy than steve was during their first meeting… and what’s worse is when they gang up on eddie with double bitchy glares.

#steddie #this was supposed to be a little fic idea but i got carried away #jay writes #jay talks #steve x eddie #rockstar!eddie #popstar!steve #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things 4 #steve harrington #fluff #fic idea #fan fiction #drabble #king of pop steve #princess of darkness eddie #buckingham #bi steve #gay eddie #gay #eddie x steve #gareth emerson #jeff stranger things #grant stranger things #robin buckley #chrissy cunningham #platonic stobin #platonic hellcheer #corroded coffin

[frostandflamesfanfic]

Secret Santa (Steve Harrington x Reader)

Secret Santa (Rated G)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader (gender neutral)

Word Count: 3.7k+

Warnings: None! Although, I'm sure my interpretation of secret santa is incorrect -- just a heads up.

Summary: For Stevemas Day 11; This Christmas, Robin decided to host a holiday celebration to bring the party together. When she adds in a little extra magic by starting a secret santa, Eddie recruits himself to help you find that perfect gift for that special someone.

It took you three times to read the two words on the page before you could finally understand it. Steve Harrington was written in red glitter pen on the folded slip in your hand. It was unmistakably Robin’s messy scrawl, but it still felt as if it was written in another language. Surely this couldn’t be right. 

“Alright,” came the voice of the aforementioned bubbly coworker. “Does everyone have a name for Secret Santa?”

There was a low murmur of agreement, followed by the crunch of paper, which spread throughout the Wheeler’s basement. Why you all continued to set up a base of operations in your best friend’s home remained a mystery. Perhaps you were just creatures of habit. Routines kept you safe, comfortable even. 

“Who’d you get?” The low voice of Eddie Munson caused you to quite literally jump from your thoughts. When he noticed your flinch, the metal head gave a small tut of concern. “Hey, you’re alright, you’re okay. It’s just me. It’s just…me.”

Ever since the attack, you’ve been considerably on edge. While nightmares took over your nights, paranoia filled your days. Every action could set you off. Whenever you closed your eyes, you saw it: that place and the horrors it contained. It happened so often and it felt so real. Sometimes you worried Henry had made his return. You had taken to sleeping with your Walkman at night, just in case. Never again did you want to return to that hellscape. 

Eddie repeated his question. “Who’d you get for secret Santa?”

“Why don’t you just mind your own business, Munson?” you snapped at the metalhead. “I think I’d be violating some sacred oath of the secret Santa if I told you.”

“I got Henderson,” Eddie supplied far too quickly. He rested his chin on your shoulder and tilted his head to look at you. “There. Now you have to tell me. And I know it isn’t me…you’d be grinning like the Cheshire cat if it was.” 

You sighed and held up the slip of paper clutched in your palm. Eddie wasted no time in snatching it up like the little gremlin that he was. A slow quiet whistle escaped him as he took in the name. “Well damn,” he said. “Didn’t you get lucky? This should be easy as pie for you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

The curly dark-haired boy raised an eyebrow at you in surprise. “You mean you’re not?” he asked. 

You shook your head. “Eddie, what are you talking about?”

“You and Harrington. You’re not…together or anything?”

To say you were surprised would be an understatement. Sure, you had found yourself spending more time with Steve Harrington over the last two years, but it didn’t mean you were together. The Upside Down had messed with each and every one of your friends, who you considered to be more like family by now. Your panic somehow ended up bringing you closer to Steve, a guy you only admired from afar during your high school days. If you had told your freshman self you would be swapping horror stories and spilling blood with King Steve, you’re pretty sure they would have a heart attack. 

The truth was, Steve had turned out to be the exact opposite of what you imagine. He was gentle and kind. The two of you had formed an unofficial nightmare prevention club. The near-nightly meetings would consist of multiple-hour-long conversations over stretched out phone cords or late night drives around downtown Hawkins. Other times, it was just silently sitting in Steve’s dark and abandoned living room, grip tightened on small objects hidden under blankets. These moments were your battle scars and it would be a long healing process. Fortunately, the two of you had gotten really good at being there for each other in the meantime. 

“No, Eddie,” you corrected with a heavy sigh. “We’re not together. We’re just–”

“Friends? Yeah, right,” your friend shook his head with an angry passion. “Don’t go bullshitting me here, kid.”

“I’m not-”

Eddie held up a hand to your face to silence your argument. “Listen,” he said. “You might not see it, but I do. All of us do, actually. The two of you have been practically joined at the hip these days.” He tilted his head toward Steve’s direction. The man of the hour was talking to Robin at the time, the two of them getting into another one of their half-hearted arguments over something you couldn’t quite decipher. 

“You can’t tell me there isn’t something there, babe,” Eddie’s tone now softened. “I see the way you look at him.”

Your lower lip became the punching bag for a barrage of anxious bites as his words echoed in your mind. I see the way you look at him. Was it possible you had feelings for Steve? You continued to watch him as he maneuvered his way through the party, Robin continuing to ramble on as she followed on his coattails. It was almost effortless how he moved, sending smiles to each of the kids as he passed by. They were genuine with their accompanying eye sparkle, something you knew after the hours of late night conversations. 

It was a side effect of Steve realizing he didn’t need to change who he was to be respected by others. Besides his adventures with the kids, he talked a lot about his childhood and what it was like growing up with parents who were more concerned about appearance than their child’s happiness. He shared with you once how he felt being a member of a family meant acting in the world’s longest lasting play. You always had to play the part of the perfect person, he had explained, hiding your imperfections and letting go of the important things everyone else thought were stupid. 

“Ya know,” Steve mentioned at one point, “I think my parents would care less if I came home or not when they’re in town. As long as I was making a name for myself that was…positive and they could compare to some other set of snobs. Not some nobody who makes a lousy four bucks an hour shelving tapes every day.”

It broke your heart to hear his story. “Steve,” you had tried to console. “You’re not a nobody.”

“Not to you, or Henderson,” he relented. “God, I think the kid would probably have a heart attack if I didn’t answer to his every beck and call. Damn kid thinks he’s entitled now.”

You didn’t miss the ghost of a smile that dimly lit up his gaze as he spoke about Dustin. That “damn kid” changed him for the better, you knew Steve was beyond grateful for that. If it wasn’t for Dustin– and Nancy breaking his heart– he could have just been another cog in the corporate machine with wandering eyes. Now he was a man of heart, who valued family no matter what, even if it wasn’t by blood. 

“Hey, Eds?” you asked, eyes still locked onto the back of Steve’s too-tight blue and white rugby shirt. “Think you could give me a hand with something this week?”

The dazzling smile you received in response was more than enough confirmation. “For you, kid? Always.”

⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ 

“Eddie, no.”

“But it’s real music!” your best friend argued as he waved the cassette tape in the air rather aggressively. “If you’re going to do this, you may as well culture him with the good stuff while you’re at it.”

“I want him to like it.” You shook your head and plucked the tape from his grasp, setting it back down in its place in the box. “If he blows his eardrums out in the process, I think he’d have a hard time being able to enjoy the rest of it.” 

 The metalhead clutched at his chest dramatically, followed up with a slow flop against his beaten mattress. “You wound me,” he mumbled into the pillows. A second later, he popped back up and leaned over the edge of the mattress. He seemed intent on finding something and soon sat back up with another smaller box clutched in his hands. “Try some of these.”

Intrigued, you frowned and reached for the box. As you lifted the top off, you noticed two tightly packed rows of tapes. You used your fingers to pry one loose and lifted it into the light. A snort escaped you as you read the label. “Blondie?” you asked, tone clearly that of amusement. 

Eddie rolled his eyes and began his own search through the original box of tapes. 

Another laugh sounded from you as you continued to dig through the selection in your lap. “Okay, okay. You have to explain why you, Edward James Munson, have not one, but two ABBA tapes in your possession.” 

“Blame it on Buckley,” he mumbled back in a bitter response. “She showed up one day to show me what she thought was good music. Why people enjoy this shit nowadays is just depressing.”

“Then why do you still have this shit?”

The only answer you received was a bored shrug. “I let you come in here and use my stereo system and go through my music collection to let you make your present for your dream boy-”

“Steve is not my dream boy-”

“Ah bah bah,” Eddie cut you off. “Don’t interrupt the generous man, kid. I give you access to my castle to work on your project for free. It doesn’t mean you get the chance to interrogate me about my collection like some kind of FBI agent.” He flicked two fingers in your general direction. “Make your picks.”

Your eyes drifted back to the box in your lap, a small smile tugging at your lips as you searched. The idea of a mixtape seemed like a good idea at first, but now that you were faced with the difficult decision of what to include on said mixtape, your confidence faltered just a bit. You took a deep breath, eyes closing to help you better concentrate. What was it that you wanted this to say to Steve? 

If you had the opportunity to say anything to the boy you had already bared most of your soul to, what would you say? Your heart rate increased as you thought about the look on his face in your bedroom window, sneaking in to comfort you when you had a nightmare: soft hazel eyes and an even softer smile on lips that would press into your hairline absentmindedly. You would cling onto the boy for dear life, terrified to lose your connection to reality. 

Without even trying, Steve had become your rock– the anchor tethered you from straying too far with your deepest fears. You couldn’t do this without him and, deep down, you hoped he felt the same way about you. Suddenly, everything started to click into place and you knew what you wanted to say. 

You just hoped that you’d be able to find exactly what you were looking for.  

⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ ⧫ 

“You made it!” Robin exclaimed with a cheery smile. She was quick to envelope you into a tight hug. You had to hide the wince that threatened to be revealed when the hard plastic ornaments sewn into her christmas sweater dug into the fabric of your own top. “Are you ready for a good time?”

“That better not mean beer, Buckley,” you chided.

“‘Course not!” your friend beamed. You couldn’t tell if this was just her natural enthusiasm, or if she had already had a couple drinks too many. “We got something much more festive! Jonathan and Argyle made the eggnog!”

You blinked. With the two California boys in charge of the beverages, this would certainly be an interesting evening. “Jonathan and Argyle…made the eggnog?”

“Yep! It’s actually really good.” Robin held out her mug. “Try it! It’ll warm you up really fast!”

“I’m sure.” As you leant forward to take a small sniff, you were instantly greeted by the stench of way too much bourbon. You were taken aback by the dark-nailed hand of a certain metalhead reaching past you for the cup. 

“Well, if you won’t, I will,” he said, knocking back the remaining liquid down into his throat. “Damn, that’s good.”

“RIGHT?!”

“...okay, Robs,” you said as you reached for her arm. “Let’s get you back inside. Maybe find Nance.”

“She’s with Steve,” the short-haired girl slurred. “Talkin’ ‘bout something.” Robin gave a vague gesture toward the living room area, where Steve was currently resting against the doorframe talking to Nancy Wheeler. The two of them were laughing, although you noticed Nancy giving a few concerned looks in Robin's direction.

You couldn’t lie, there was a slight twinge of jealousy in your heart as you witnessed the two of them talking again. Logically, you knew they wouldn’t be getting back together. Nancy had moved on years ago–twice actually– and was finally in a stable relationship with herself. Determined to make a name for herself at Emerson, she took on her independence with pride and was loving her experience. She talked so much about the journalism program that Robin decided to apply and would be joining her the following school year as a communications major. 

You and Steve had a bet that it would only be a matter of time before they would eventually end up together. It was almost an arguable match made in heaven. Robin’s nerves combined with Nancy’s determination…there wouldn’t be anything the two couldn’t do. You just hoped that one day they would see it too. 

As the two of you approached them in the living room, you caught Steve giving you the brightest grin. He held out one of the mugs he had been carrying over to you. When you tried to send him a subtle decline, he merely shook his head. “Not spiked,” he called out over the loud Christmas music blasting through the room. “Brought my own stash since I know you don’t like alcohol.”

You gave him a soft smile as you accepted his offering, lifting the drink to your lips. It was smooth and creamy, with those spicy hints of cinnamon and nutmeg. It reminded you of Christmas from the very first sip. The fact that Steve had remembered about your alcohol aversion made you warmer from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. 

“Awww, aren’t they cute?!” you heard Robin whisper dramatically to Nancy. “I can’t wait until they see-”

“Isn’t it time for the secret Santa?” Nancy interrupted the jittery dirty blonde. 

Completely distracted from her previous statement, Robin nodded eagerly. “Oh yeah, that’s right!” she exclaimed. “Can’t forget that! C’mon dinguses.”

As the gift exchange began, you couldn’t help but feel nervous as Steve lifted his gift out of the pile. You had tried to wrap it as neatly as you could, using paper you knew he hadn’t seen at your house before. The whole point of the game was for it to be a secret until the last possible second. How could you possibly eliminate that fun?

When it was your turn to go up, you picked up the package with your name typed– not written– on the card. Someone else seemed very adamant about keeping their identity a secret, too. As you moved back to your seat on the couch, your fingers anxiously fiddled with the neatly tied bow atop the small box. It was beautifully wrapped with blue and white paper, some of your favorite colors. Whoever this person was, they definitely knew you pretty well.

When Robin gave the go ahead, everyone took turns freeing the presents from their papery prisons. You couldn’t help the small gasp that escaped you. Tucked inside the box was a cassette with your name on it. As you flipped it over to read the description, a smile graced your lips. It was a collection of some of your favorite songs. There were small marks next to certain songs, which you didn’t understand. Maybe it was your Secret Santa’s favorite, too. 

Looking around the room, you tried to guess who could have gotten you the gift. You knew it wasn’t Eddie, as he had given Dustin one of his original dungeon master journals. It could have been Robin, but she was more enthused with Jonathan’s present of new patches for her denim jacket. You risked a glance over at Steve to gauge his reaction to his gift and your heart stopped in surprise.

He was staring directly at you.

Steve raised an eyebrow at you and tilted his head toward the front door. Can we talk? his eyes asked in a silent question. 

You nodded and immediately went into the hall to grab your coats, shoving the new tape into the garment’s pocket. As you walked outside onto the front porch, Steve didn’t waste any time with what he wanted to say. 

“It was you,” he questioned. “Wasn’t it? You’re my secret Santa.”

You nodded bashfully. “Look, I get that it’s nothing special, but I thought it could be something different.”

“I love it.” Steve took a few steps closer. “I just…I find it funny that even after all this time, we’re still on the same wavelength.” He pointed to your pocket. “Cyndi Lauper, David Bowie, Joan Jett…”

When you looked at him confused, he gave a small smile. “Those are all your favorites. You listen to them all the time when you’re stressed or you can’t sleep.”

“You’re my secret Santa…” it dawned on you slowly. 

Steve blinked. “You didn’t know?”

“I didn’t expect you to know something like that,” you admitted. With some hesitation, you reached into your coat pocket and held out the tape. “What are-”

“The marks?” he asked. “Oh, yeah, I uh, I was wondering if you were going to ask me about that.” He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “You uh, sometimes when you’re at work, you hum to yourself. They’re mostly the songs on the tape but, you know. Those in particular…well, I like to hear you sing them.”

You stood there for a moment in silence, eyes searching Steve’s. It was almost as though you were looking at him– truly looking at him– for the first time in your lives. There was something hidden behind his gaze. There was a sparkle in them, almost as if he was laughing about an inside joke only he knew. It was mixed with a flicker of something you hadn’t seen before. Nerves? Sadness? Adoration? 

Steve cleared his throat to break the silence. “And, uh, I wouldn’t mind being able to hear you sing them more.”

“So you made me a tape…to hear me sing karaoke?”

“Not…not exactly,” he stammered. “God, am I really not that obvious?”

Confusion struck you again and you tilted your head in silent question. What was he talking about? Now Steve seemed nervous– something you had never seen him be before in the years you had known him. Steve Harrington had confidence, he was cocky; he didn’t get nervous, especially not around you. “Steve, what are you-”

“I love you,” the three words blurted out of his mouth in such a hurry, you had to blink a few times to process the exclamation. “I love you and I’ve been in love with you for a while now. There isn’t anyone else that knows me like you do, who listens– and I mean truly listens– like you do. You don’t judge me, you don’t make me feel like the idiot I totally am.”

He paused for a moment to take both of your hands in his. “When I’m with you, I don’t have to act anymore. I can be myself around you and know that that’s the person I want to be for the rest of my life. You are the person I want to be around for as long as you’ll have me. I love you.”

With the way he was holding you, your body felt warmer than it would with any festive beverage. You weren’t imagining this, were you? Did Steve, the boy you watched from a distance for so long, just say he loved you? “You’re not- this isn’t-” you stammered. “Is this a dream?”

“No, sweetheart,” Steve whispered softly as he took a step closer to you. “It’s real.”

He cradled one of his hands under your chin, tilting his own face to be near your own. The look he gave you asked if this was okay, and somehow you managed the slightest of nods in response. When he slanted his lips over yours, you immediately began to melt into his embrace. You hadn’t dreamed of this moment before, but it still felt like a fairy tale. It was soft and gentle, everything you could have wanted. 

When you finally broke apart, a smile graced upon your lips. “In case it wasn’t completely obvious,” you said. “I love you, too.”

Steve grinned and pulled you in for another kiss. This one was a bit more heated, but it was just enough. To the two of you, nothing else mattered in that exact moment. All that mattered was that you and him were finally happy and you were happy together. 

“Well it’s about time!!” Robin’s voice called out, forcing the two of you to jump apart from each other. You had been so engrossed in the moment, the two of you hadn’t heard the front door open behind you. “Thought you’d never get together. Now can you guys hurry up and come back inside? It’s almost time to eat.” With a huff and a smile, she closed the door with a solid thud, causing the two of you to start laughing.

“Merry Christmas, Steve,” you whispered.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” he replied as he pulled you against him once more so you could walk hand-in-hand back to your family.

================

Author's Note: Merry Christmas Eve to my readers who celebrate the holiday. Can you believe we're almost to the end of Stevemas already?! It's been a crazy two weeks and I really hope you all have enjoyed the (basically) daily uploads. This was a really fun fic to write and I have to give a shoutout to @familyvideostevie for the inspiration after seeing the secret Santa prompt on their 12 days of christmas list. Make sure to check out their works because they're amazing!! I also wanted to do something a little different this time around to make my fics more interactive, so I hope you enjoyed listening to the actual mixtape you made for Steve while you read this story! :)

If you enjoyed this fic and want to see more like it on my blog, make sure to leave a comment, tag a friend, or reblog this post. Likes are appreciated, but it's these other types of interactions that help to spread the word about my works. Not only that, but it helps me feel motivated to keep writing and posting content. If you're interested in getting updates on the final day of Stevemas or any of my other works, maybe consider giving my blog a cheeky follow. I promise I won't spam you too much with other amazing creators' works! :)

Until next time, my little sparks <3

Taglist: @bakerstreethound, @theelmgrove, @maddipoof

#steve harrington fanfic #steve stranger things #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve x reader #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #joe keery imagines #joe keery #twelve days of stevemas #ficmas 2022 #frostandflamesfanfic #Spotify

[apomaro-mellow]

Dimension Hopping Part 5

If I had a nickel for every time I wrote Eddie kidnapping Steve and his parents didn't care, I'd have two nickels.

Eddie adjusted his long brown coat as he looked up to the sky. He could see the trails above of the rails like they were a cage. People touted the Transplanetary Railway like a sign of progress. And it certainly was for the fat cats able to line their pockets with stock money.

"All aboard! All passengers bound for Portales Station, the Sonoran Rings, and Mars via Flagstaff!"

Eddie boarded the train, tipping his hat down to keep a low profile in the car with the other working class passengers until the conductor got the vessel going. He gripped the arm of his seat as he felt the initial lurch of launch but soon stars were passing by with the smoothness of Mercurian butter.

He checked his watch. It was just about the time for his crew to be ready. Eddie got up and moved to one of the fancier cars. He definitely looked out of place to anyone who looked. Thankfully, rich people tended not to notice his kind until they needed something. Eddie looked for a certain face. One he had memorized while planning this heist. It was different from all the others. He and his gang were used to sneaking aboard, asking for all their jewels and coins and then going ghost.

This time it was more personal.

He didn't see who he was looking for at first, but just as he was going to move to the next car, in he came, drink in his hand, with a leisured look on his face. Perfect.

Eddie took his bandana out of his pocket and tied it to his face. Then came right up to the young man, not giving him time to react as he got behind, put an arm around his waist and held a gun to the air.

"Ladies and gentlemen! May I have your attention please?" He knocked a man's wrist with his gun wielding hand, knocking a glass to the floor to get the car quiet. "No, your eyes are not deceiving you. It is I, Back Alley Al Munson. Now I'm gonna make off with your lil prince here and I'd like y'all to let us go quietly. All I want is to hold court with his daddy. So someone make sure the Harringtons get a telegraph asap."

Eddie grinned beneath his face covering when he felt the man in his arms try to struggle. He put a firm hand on his lower belly. The prissy upper crust weren't much in a physical fight but still, he didn't want to bruise that pretty face.

"Settle down, sweetheart. We'll get you back to your manor soon. Just follow my lead."

Eddie nudged him forward with his hips, forcing him to start walking. His target, none other than Steve "the heir" Harrington, looked to all the other passengers in disbelief.

"Is no one going to stop him!? For god's sakes, someone help me!"

Eddie chuckled and took him to the emergency exit door. "Allow me to provide assistance." He jammed his fist on the button, opening up the car to the vacuum of space. Everyone's emergency seatbelts activated as they screamed bloody murder. Steve screamed too when he was suddenly sucked out into space. Eddie went easily right after him, grabbing for Steve as they floated. Eddie counted the seconds.

1...

2...

3-

He let out an exhale as something warm washed over them, pulling them in a new direction. The weightlessness of space was replaced by a solid feeling under them. Steve pushed him off and Eddie let him. He took off his bandana and beamed.

"Told you it would work!"

"Eddie you son of a bitch!"

Steve watched as a trio of men came to them and hugged his kidnapper deep.

"Eddie? I thought you were Al Munson? Isn't he the leader of the Corroded Coffin gang?"

Eddie smirked. "My old man's name is good for something. Helps people take you more seriously if they think you're the scourge of the West Quadrant and not just his scrappy son. Jeffy my man, you did awesome with that tractor beam hat trick."

"Just don't make me do it again", Jeff wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Next time, let's splurge for the helmets."

"What do you all want from me?", Steve said as he stood and took in his surroundings. It looked like he was in the cargo hold of a shipping vessel. A very, very small one. There were crates everywhere, both open and sealed shut.

"Nothing you can give us", Eddie said. "But your pa is kickin' up dirt where he shouldn't. There's way too much land in the Harrington name and now he wants our town."

"Your town?"

"A little place on Earth. Maybe you know it? You stuffed shirts hightailed it out of there the moment you terraformed Mars though." And other places after that. Earth was considered the backwater town of their solar system. Hand been for decades.

"Why would my family be interested in Earth?", Steve asked.

"Hell if we know. We just want him to step off", one of Eddie's members, with a mop of curly hair said.

"You're wasting your time", Steve protested as they started to haul him off somewhere. He got to see more of the ship. It looked like it had been around for a long time. He was taken to a room and thrown inside. Steve had never been in a place with four walls this close together. All the room really had was what looked like an operating table coming out of the wall. Steve felt the thing cushion and realized it was probably supposed to be a bed. He let out a sigh and sat on it.

He had to think of a way out of here.

----------------------

"What do you think he meant by that?", Jeff asked.

The gang was sitting in the bridge. Eddie had taken his coat off and was simply in a shirt and dusty jeans. He was twirling his hat around. "Gareth, Grant? Care to weigh in on Jeff's question?"

The other two were playing cards. "I think he meant by Harrington saying we're wasting our time", Grant said.

Eddie thought about it. Steve "the heir" Harrington. Known as such because his father, Silas Harrington, had significant ownership holdings on several planets, their moons, and even the space stations surrounding them. He had also started diversifying and investing stock in the railways. All that meant was that when he was gone, Steve stood to inherit the universe. The wealth of the Harringtons rivaled that of the last remaining monarchies. Taking their precious son had to put a fire in their belly.

But Steve saying it was a waste of time rubbed him the wrong way. He got up and went to the mess to whip up something for them all to eat. He opened up a sealed pack of jerky, tossed some frozen biscuits to the reactor and boiled up some mashed potato powder. He plated it up and served his hard working crew, then thought about Steve. He was drinking when Steve had taken him, so he'd probably eaten already. And going a day or two without food wouldn't kill him.

Against his will, Eddie thought about the days he'd been hungry. When his dad went off on a score, leaving him alone with the barest of essentials. With a huff, he carried a plate to Steve.

"Hope you're decent", Eddie said. He used a free hand to open the door, prepared with a knife in his back pocket in case his captive got brave.

To his surprise, Steve was lounging on the cot. Eddie felt a bit too close to a servant delivering a meal to a passenger, not a hostage. He tried to ignore the curve of Steve's hip.

"Food, for his majesty", Eddie said, putting on an exaggerated voice.

Steve scrunched up his nose as he looked at it and Eddie felt a little satisfaction and giving this spoiled man a bit of ruffage he wasn't used to.

"It probably doesn't compare to the feasts you have in your ivory tower, princess." He held it out to Steve, who sat up to take it in his lap.

"Not a princess. And no, we don't really eat this where I come from." He picked up the jerky. "Is this food or building material?"

"Both. It builds character", Eddie grinned. "Where are you from anyway?"

"Venus", Steve answered before taking a bite of the jerky, struggling with it a bit.

Eddie whistled. Venus, known for its floating cities and beautiful people. Figures Steve would be from there. "I bet you've never even touched real earth." If Eddie's mother, rest her soul, was to be believed, then her sweet baby Theodore had been born right in the wheat fields. As close to the earth as you could get.

He and Steve couldn't be any more different. He put his hands on his hips, watching Steve chew on the jerky for a moment more before going towards the door.

"Well, you'll get plenty of chances to get well acquainted with all of mankind's roots. We should be home in a few hours."

Part 7 coming soon

Tag Team

@goodolefashionedloverboi @xjessicafaithx @newtstabber @am-i-obssed-probably

#apo writes #stranger things #fanfiction #steddie #corroded coffin #why are space westerns so fun to write? #also pls laugh at my Steve the heir Harrington joke

[daddyy333]

Drunk | Jamie Campbell Bower x y/n

if you’d like you can reblog my original work, but please don’t post it without credit. if you take inspiration from my ideas please tag me, I’d like to see how someone else would write it

Word count: 0.5k

warnings: Jamie is drunk, he plays with readers boobiez, ?

summary: taking care of drunk jamie

“Babyyyyy” Jamie slurred as he walked the steps up to your apartment. You could hear him from the bedroom, chuckling to yourself. You got up and opened the front door, watching him stumble up the stairs, holding onto the rail because he could barely see straight.

“Bubba, are you drunk?” You asked, closing the door and walking towards him. He smiled and said “drunk on your love” “aren’t you just a little flirt? See you’ve been hanging out with that guy Jack Daniels lately” you said and he giggled.

You kissed his cheek and said “I’ll help you sweetheart, come on” You wrapped one of his arms around your shoulders and held the other, slowly guiding him up the rest of the way up. “I missed you soooo much. Your cute little laugh, and you're just…god your eyes. And your nose, when it crinkles when you smile. You just…you’re so amazing. I love you”

“I love you too, James. You’re so damn sweet” you said and laughed a little. You got him inside and he said hi to the cats, rolling around on the floor with them while you heated up some pizza and prepared a bath for him. “Sweetheart! Come on, it’s time to get in the bath and try to sober up a little” you said and he groaned.

You giggled and dragged him to the bathroom, he looked so small but god was he heavy. Eventually he let you take his clothes off and put him in the bath, but only if you got in with him. You rolled your eyes and stripped down to your birthday suit as well, getting in and feeding him pizza and some other things to help him sober up.

“Can I touch your boobs?” He asked and you giggled. He blushed and said “pleaseee” “sure, babe” you said and sighed. He played with your boobs most of the time like the dirty little drunk he is but it kept him busy so you could wash him up and get the smell of alcohol off of him.

“These are…so so nice. Like stress balls. Sexy stress balls” he said and you shook your head, laughing. He leaned forwards, kissing all over your chest before slumping onto you, obviously sleepy. “Why don’t we get out and go to bed?” You asked and he groaned.

You coaxed him out and you both dried off, Jamie put on a pair of boxers and you put on a tank top and some underwear. “Ok, come here, bubba” you said and he flopped onto the bed, both of you giggling a little. He turned over and looked at you, whilst you played with his wet hair.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, cupping your cheek and caressing it softly. You smiled and said “you’re beautiful” “no you” he whined and you shook your head, leaning down and kissing him.

He eventually nuzzled into you and fell asleep in your arms, holding you so tight you thought he might cut off your circulation. The next morning he woke up with a hell of a hangover but a few hours of cuddles and water and meds later he was much better, all thanks to you.

As of now l'm writing for

Eddie Munson

Joseph Quinn

Jamie Bower

Steve Harrington

Robin Buckley

Eddissy

Maya Hawke

So just comment the taglist you want to be added to and l'll add you :)

#stranger things #jamie campbell bower #jamie bower #jamie bower x reader #jamie campbell bower x reader #jamie bower x y/n #jamie campbell bower x y/n #jamie bower oneshot #jamie campbell bower fanfiction #jamie campbell bower oneshot #jamie bower fanfiction

[peachywise]

Lessons in Honesty Part 4

steve harrington x reader Chapter 4: Master of Puppets

– other chapters: part 1 ⋆ part 2 ⋆ part 3 ⋆ part 4 ⋆ part 5 ⋆ part 6 ⋆ part 7 ⋆ part 8

– series synopsis: Being Robin Buckley’s younger sibling had always been uneventful, up until she got herself tangled with Steve Harrington. And really, you were happy for her. She deserved friends. What was bothersome was when he got let in on small secrets like your infatuation with Eddie Munson, and decided to take it into his own hands to try and get him to pay attention to you-- by pretending to be your boyfriend.

– notes: hello friends!! i'm so sorry this update took so long. school and life got very busy, but i should be back to more consistent posting for the rest of the summer. also don't worry about possible spoilers or anything for volume 2. if there are any in here, they're just minor references that you won't pick up on unless you've seen it. this chapter also has a tw for minor violence and minor blood mention, so please keep that in mind. enjoy!

read here or on ao3

_____________________________

Either you were terrible at math, or there were two more people in Steve's car than there were supposed to be.    And man, did you hope you were just shit at counting. 

"Buckley, hey!" 

There were two options here you could take. One, you could walk up to Steve's car where the owner was giving you a painful half-apologetic, half-exhausted look through his windshield while your sister climbed out of the passenger's seat, and Dustin's head was leaning out the open window offering you a greeting. 

Or you could pretend like you weren't just planning on getting into Steve's car and hanging out with him behind your sister's back by running back into the house and feigning utter ignorance if Robin chose to question you on it. 

You liked option two best.

Too bad the hand of God struck you down.

Okay, maybe that was a bit dramatic. By the hand of God, you meant your sister. And by struck down, you meant how she grabbed you by the collar of your shirt and yanked you back towards her. But hey, maybe this was a better option. The force of your shirt crushing your windpipe was enough that you might get a merciful death out of this awkward situation instead. 

"And where are you going?" 

You finally managed to wrangle her hands off your clothing enough to breathe, winding your body around to face her with a naturally irritated look that you were trying your best to turn into a look of innocence. By the odd feeling in your face muscles, it was safe to assume you were doing a terrible job. "I, uh-" you started, eyes flashing around as if your surroundings would give you an excuse for the lie. It did not. "I was welcoming you home? Bring it in—" Opening your arms up for a hug, you stepped forward towards your sister with a wide grin. She placed her whole hand on your face and held you back from advancing further. You dropped your arms immediately. 

"C'mon, Robin, let them go. I don't want them crying in my car cause they're late to Eddie's gig." 

Well shit. Way to let the cat out of the bag. 

Robin gave you an odd look before turning her pouted, confused stare towards Steve. She pointed her thumb at you behind her shoulder as she asked, "and you're… taking Dustin and them there?" as if Steve was somehow confused about who she may be talking about. 

Steve rolled his eyes, the picture on nonchalance. However, if the tightening grip on his steering wheel was any indication, he was just as nervous to say what he was going to say as you were to hear it. 

"No, this twerp isn't coming. But I'm going accompany miniature Buckley. You know. Make sure they don't inadvertently piss someone off by just opening their mouth." 

Nice excuse, but you wouldn't do that. Maybe. Hopefully.  

Robin's eyes trailed back at you assesingly as Dustin and Steve bickered about what he'd said about Dustin's involvement. You were too focused on what might pop out of Robin's mouth to pay attention. For a second, you thought maybe she would try and come along. Not that it would necessarily be bad, but you would be dead nervous the whole time thinking she would accidentally say something to Eddie to indicate your crush on him. As it was, anytime she even got near the curly-headed boy in the school hallway, you nearly had a heart attack. 

Instead, all Robin did was shrug her shoulders and hum an indifferent "whatever, don't get caught by Mom," before turning to walk into the house. She shut the door with a final goodbye of, "see you later, losers." 

Your whole body felt like it had deflated all the nerves you had built up over the past few days. Steve looked at you with a wide-eyed, dazed and confused gape. 

Okay. So maybe you were both being wimps, but you had every right to. You and Steve knew you eventually had to start getting Robin to fall for the fake-dating charade and let her see you guys hang out. However, whenever you thought about how to do it, you and Steve would mutter a resolute, "another time," and leave it at that. The only time you had been alone with Steve since he picked you up from your group earlier in the week was the two days Robin had band practice so Eddie and the others could see him pick you up.    The fear was that Robin would immediately see this for what it was and wouldn't stop pestering you both about it until you had no choice but to admit it. And while she had paused when Steve said he was taking you to Eddie's concert, it had gone away in a blink. 

Oh well. You could overthink it until the end of days, but it was probably best to take it as a win. 

Besides, now you had another slight problem to focus on instead. A Henderson-sized problem. 

"So we're dropping Dustin off at home first?" You questioned Steve, slipping into the front seat of the car. Steve replied, "yes," while Dustin replied, "no." 

You might have registered their words if you hadn't finally noticed what Steve was wearing. You must have looked a little horrified because after Steve shot a glare at Dustin in the back, he turned to look at you with a scrunched nose. "What?" he asked, looking down at his baby blue Henley shirt and plucking it between his fingers, looking for a stain or something. 

"You look like you're going to a Wham! concert."    Dustin laughed. Steve sighed as he pulled out of the driveway. 

"Yeah, that's nice. At least I'm not dressed like a dude named Rod who sells moonshine to kids in the back of my van. Who's tire did you steal to make that jacket from?" 

You frowned, wrapping your dad's leather jacket around you tighter. It might be a bit bug, but it wasn't that bad. "Steve, it's a metal concert. You don't even own a black shirt?" 

"I'm not driving back home just to change. We're already cutting it close as it is. Dustin showed up at my work, thinking he was going to come to this thing. I don't need his mom chasing me down with a rolling pin for exposing her little angel to the horrors of the world," he droned sarcastically. 

"Hey, Eddie asked me to come too!" Dustin argued back. 

Steve turned to dispute with him over his shoulder. "Oh, come on, that was just so it didn't seem weird that he suddenly was inviting Buckley." 

"Oh yeah? And what about you? I don't remember him extending you an invitation." 

"He's playing at a run-down bar that most has rats for patrons. They don't even give enough of a shit to ID anyone 'cause their beer is so watered down that there's almost no alcohol in it. Don't really think it's a 'by invitation only' kind of place." Steve shot back. 

"I know what you're doing." 

That admission had you and Steve turning to look at one another from the corner of your eyes. Steve asked as indifferently and sarcastically as he could, "and what's that?"     "Trying to make Eddie jealous by hanging out with Pip." 

Well, fuck. That kid was always too smart for his own good. 

"Why would we be trying to make Eddie jealous?" You sputtered out. In a sharp, quick-witted defence. Not.  

Dustin put his hands on the sides of your seat and leaned in. "Dude, it's obvious you like him. We all know it. Well, except Eddie, I think. You should really just tell him, though. He's a cool guy."    You were beginning to think Steve's car was really cursed. Seriously, why did people say things that made you want to throw up your lungs whenever you were in here?    "What I can't figure out is what Steve's getting out of this," Dustin continued to mutter, ignoring that you were frozen solid and having trouble remembering how to breathe. Dustin's loud clap shocked you back into remembrance as you took a gasp of air through the jolt. "You're doing this to make Robin jealous! I told you I knew you wanted to date her! Just friends, my ass."    "What?" Steve loudly spoke, turning his head black to glance at Dustin so fast that the car slightly swerved on the road for a moment. You slapped your hand over his on the wheel to steady it while he turned his eyes quickly back onto the road. You only let go when Steve offered you a small look and a nod, both of you settling back in your seats. 

One thing you and Steve knew was that Robin was most definitely not an option for Steve. Nope. She could make fun of you all she liked about Eddie, but she was just as obsessed with that girl Vickie in the school band with her.     "Just drop it, alright? You're wrong," Steve muttered as he finally pulled into Dustin's neighbourhood. Dustin leaned back into his seat with a huff. "Whatever. I'm not going to spill the secret. I can even help." 

"Goodnight, Dustin," you merely replied as Steve stopped at the curb of his house. Dustin rolled his eyes, opening the door and stepping onto the sidewalk. "You two are hopeless," he muttered as he shut the door. 

It wasn't until you saw him walk into the house that Steve finally spoke. 

"I have a feeling him knowing will come back to bite us in the ass." 

No doubt about it. 

 ******************************************

Steve wasn't exactly wrong in calling The Hideout a shit hole. It was one. The taupe paint was chipped in places. The vinyl was ripped from the barstools. It had wood panelling that was graffitied by markers. The cement floor was so dark that you wondered what bacteria was living on it that had changed the light grey colour so drastically. 

But as far as you were concerned, tonight, it was the promise land. And it wasn't because you didn't even have to pull out your shitty fake ID at the door. 

Stepping into the bar's sticky floor when Steve had to run back and see if he had locked his car door (though you had assured him he had), you glanced around at the relatively empty space. There were some people in there-- A few older guys around the stage, some others face down in the booths or sitting at the bar. Two guys were arguing near the side exit, shoving each other back and forth on the chests. You swore you heard the word 'cat' get thrown around by them, but before you could really eavesdrop more, a heavy hand landed on your shoulder. Your body jumped in fright as your eyes zinged up. 

Eddie's grinning face peered down at you, looking like he was the happiest he had ever been. But that was just him. He never did anything half-assed or without meaning, even if it was an action as simple as smiling. 

"Pip, you actually came?" Eddie asked, sounding earnestly surprised by the fact. You let out a small laugh as he pulled you in for one of his tight hugs, his arms engulfing you in perfect safety. You'd barely wrapped your arms around him in return before he moved to grip your shoulders, pushing you back a step to look at your face. 

"Did you really doubt me?" You smiled in a tease. Eddie's grin softened to a heart-stopping gentleness, counteracted only by his move to ruffle your hair with his hand. You managed to push it away with a weak-willed groan.

"Who knows, we might manage to scare you off yet," Eddie retorted, rolling forward on his feet closer to your ear. 

"You? I'm not so sure. This place is more likely to accomplish that. I'm already planning on needing a tetanus shot after tonight, so you'd better make it worth it." It was a joke. Kind of. Your concern that you would step on a rusty nail increased the more you took in your surroundings.     Eddie shook his head with a small laugh, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and bringing you in close. "Oh, we'll make it worth it, alright. Hey, do you want to go check out the setup?" 

Steve's exclamation of, "Jesus Christ, it smells like someone vomited in a shoe and lit it on fire in here," stopped you before you could accept Eddie's offer. 

Eddie's smile fell, the tightness of his hold on you loosening. 

"Harrington? If you're looking for JCPenney, you're off by a couple blocks, man." 

Steve walked up towards you both, pocketing his car keys. 

"Was it locked?" 

"Yes," Steve muttered.    "Told you," you replied, trying to keep your self-satisfied tone to a minimum. 

Steve still gave you an annoyed look. 

"You invited him?" Eddie's voice brought you back to the present as you turned to look up at him, his own face tilted down towards you with a raised brow in question. 

You nodded, chewing the side of your cheek as you tried to figure out what Eddie might exactly be thinking. "Is that okay?" 

Whatever Eddie was thinking was quickly brushed aside because a tight grin replaced the contemplative look in the next moment. Stepping away from you, he clapped his hand on Steve's shoulder rather hard. "Of course. Probably time Harrington learned what real music is, right, big boy? Just try not to throw yourself on stage at us. Can be kind of distracting." 

That made you laugh a bit, releasing some of the tension you felt. Steve shrugged off Eddie's hand, nudging you in the arm toward an empty table closer to the door than the stage. "I think I'll be able to contain myself," he replied dryly. 

As Steve's nudging became more instant, you offered an excited "break a leg!" to Eddie and a thumbs up to the guys setting up on stage. Eddie winked in your direction, a half-tugged smirk on his lips as he said, "try not to throw yourself at us either. Or do. I don't think I'd mind your distraction that much." He turned to walk back to the stage as you and Steve made your way to the table. It was a good thing your back was to Eddie because boy, were your eyes wide.

"Did he just flirt with me?" You asked Steve, astonished. 

"If you have to ask, then I'd say he did a pretty shit job at it," Steve muttered in reply, tugging out a chair so you could plop yourself down. 

 ****************************************** 

Corroded Coffin had been on stage playing for around 40 minutes, and it was actually… good. Really good.

Not that you doubted Eddie or anything. He was always so zealous about everything he did—always so hard on himself too. He could never do something that wasn't impressive. But he seemed to be in his own world up there. Like actually his world, not those made-up ones that he creates for Dungeons and Dragons. It was strange to see him out of that element. He was the same Eddie, but… more. It was nice. 

Even Steve didn't seem as miserable being here anymore. Not that he would probably go out and become a metal head after this, but he hadn't said anything negative since you first sat down. He'd even gotten up to join you to stand against the wall, getting a little closer but still out of the ring of other people. 

Sometimes Eddie's eyes would find yours, and you would both smile. 

You didn't mind those momentary invitations into his world. You didn't mind at all. 

"Hey, I'm going to go get a coke. You want something?" Steve had to practically yell into your ear so you could hear.

You shook your head. "Thanks, but I'm okay." 

Steve had gotten you a beer before Corroded Coffin started playing, and you were surprised that what he'd said to Dustin earlier about them not even checking ID for drinks was true. What he said about the beer being so watered down was also an unfortunate honesty. You'd only taken a few sips before you couldn't stomach the thing anymore. Not like you were much of a beer person to begin with. You didn't go to parties, so the only drinks you'd ever had were ones you and Robin occasionally stole from your parents or glasses of champagne on special occasions and holidays.    "Stay put, okay?" Steve said sternly, fixing you with a no-nonsense look before making his way to the bar. You gave a small laugh, calling over to him, "sure thing, Dad!" 

Not like you would want to wander off anyway. You'd rather not risk bumping into some drunk people who might try and wrap you up into whatever non-coherent conversations they might be having. 

Unfortunately, staying put didn't mean other people couldn't walk up to you instead. 

 "What's a little thing like you doing over here all alone?" 

The man that approached didn't exactly scream danger, but his taller stature and the level of alcohol coming off his breath was enough to put you immediately on high alert. That, and the fact that he stood almost toe to toe with you, crowding you right against the wall.

"My friend is just getting a drink, but he'll be back in a second," you muttered, though you were pretty sure he knew that and had just been waiting for Steve to leave this entire time. Your eyes flashed away from his face to try and get a good look at Steve at the bar. The man moved to step back into your eye-line, cutting your search off. 

"Why don't I keep you company instead? I can be a lot of fun," he hiccupped, reaching out a hand to wrap around your forearm. On instinct, you hit it away.

"I don't find harassment fun. Leave me alone," you threatened with a harsh bite, moving to step around him. Even though he was drunk, it seemed he had fast enough reflexes to grab your arm again. His grip was weak enough that you quickly broke it by shoving yourself away. Unfortunately, the force it took had you falling, the back of your head smacking onto the edge of the table before you fell to the floor on your butt. Bruised tailbone, here we come. 

Everything that happened next felt like a blur. The music stopped with what sounded more like a crash than a vinyl scratch, and Eddie's voice rang out through the microphone. "Hey, get the fuck away from them, man!" He quickly swung his guitar to his back and jumped off the stage, shoving the man out of the way and crouching beside you. He rested a gentle hand on your elbow and helped you sit up better, your free hand moving to clutch the back of your head. 

When you removed your hand, there was a bit of blood there. "Shit." 

Blinking hard as you tried to focus your vision again through the headache, Eddie must have not even noticed your dazed reaction as he flusteredly hurled question after question at you, his hand moving around your body like a scanner looking for injuries. Eventually, his hands moved to cup both your cheeks, moving your head to look him in his very erratic eyes as he asked, "you're not dying, right? Or mute? Come on, say something!" You'd be sure he'd be shaking you right now if he didn't think you'd break.    "I'm okay, I'm okay—" you replied, just as yelling started back up again. Eddie's hands still squished your cheeks as you both turned to look at the new commotion. 

Steve had just shoved the guy back by the shoulder. 

"You need to get the hell out of here," Steve yelled at him, as the guy wasn't making any move to leave you alone. Really? He had practically shoved you to the ground and still wouldn't fuck off? 

"Don't tell me what to do, kid," the man slurred, his hand lifting up, getting ready to swing. Swing. You tried to move Eddie's hands off you so you could stand up despite the protest of your bones and dizziness in your head. He moved his hands to your shoulders to keep you there just as the man punched Steve in the face. The impact of it had both you and Eddie rearing back and wincing.

It turned into a double wince when Steve recovered quick and hit the man back. You swore you heard his nose crunch.

Before anything else could get out of hand, someone joined in on your little circle, grabbing the back of the man's t-shirt and wrenching him away. "Damn it, Tom. I told you not to pull this shit anymore." Must be someone who works security. Pretty shit security if this Tom person had been allowed back in after doing something similar before. 

Breaking out of Eddie's hold, you managed to stand up and weakly make your way towards Steve. He turned to face you after swiping away the blood trickling from his split lip with his thumb. His angered look quickly melted into concern as he moved to step closer to you as well, reaching out to hold the sides of your arms and support you as you almost stumbled right into him. 

"I leave you alone for one second, and you try and take on some dude?" Steve chastised you, though you knew he didn't really mean it for a second.

You let out a weak laugh. "I would have won the fight too if you didn't step in, Rocky," you joked back. Steve muttered a curse under his breath as he began a similar inspection of injuries to your body as Eddie had. 

Speaking of Eddie, you had almost forgotten his presence entirely after watching Steve almost get knocked out. You were reminded when a hand lightly pressed to the back of your sore head and informed, "fuck, that's a lot of blood. I should take you to the hospital. Let me tell the guys, and I'll go get the car—"

You stepped away from his hand and turned to look at him, slightly panicked as you cut him off. "My mom will kill me if the doctors tell her where I was and what happened. No way I'm going to the hospital." 

"Don't be an idiot, Pip," Eddie fought back, just as a new pair of hands found their way in your hair. What the hell was it about being injured that apparently allowed people to think they could freely touch you? Jesus Christ. 

"The bleeding's stopped, and the cut doesn't look deep. We can probably just clean it at your house if you have a first aid kit," Steve muttered, stepping back and putting a hand on your lower back, offering silent support if you needed it to walk. 

Eddie frowned at that. "Jesse should have a first aid kit in the back. I can help—"

"Are you kidding me?" Steve cut Eddie off, a disbelieving look on his face. "This place is a petri-dish of undiscovered diseases. They'll get a brain infection if you try and patch them up here." 

"And what, you think you can do a better job than me, Harrington? Knowing how to do your hair into a perfectly styled coif doesn't exactly make you a head doctor." 

The arguing really wasn't helping with the headache you were rocking. You rubbed a hand across your forehead in irritation. "I'd honestly rather get a brain infection than listen to you idiots fighting," you shot back. Both went silent at that. 

"Alright, alright. Let me just get you home," Steve muttered with a defeated sigh. 

You nodded your head at him before turning back to Eddie. Now that you faced the reality of what happened, your cheeks flushed a bright red. How bloody embarrassing all that had been. "Sorry for ruining the show. You guys were really good," you offered, letting your eyes trail back down to look at your shoes. Eddie's hand moved under your chin as he used a finger to tilt your head up, forcing your gaze to his. 

"You didn't ruin anything, okay? All metal concerts need a little chaos. You did good, Pip." 

You let out an involuntary weak snort. "Glad I could be of service." 

Eddie removed his hand and leaned up back to his full height. "Take care of them, alright Harrington? Don't know what I'll do if I'm down a sheep in my flock."  

Steve didn't even give him a response, already leading you out the door and back to the cool night air.  tag list: @rexorangecouny @simonsbluee @felicityofbakerstreet @heytherejulietx @ohashley101 @youngflower @katsukiswrld @ramona-thorns @theblairwaldorf2 @fezco-mylove @hxrgreeves @jbcalway @heizenka @edenstarkk @greekktragedy @trishiepo0 @nonpoppin 

#stranger things #st #stranger things season 4 #stranger things 4 #st4 #steve harrington #joe keery #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #robin buckley #dustin henderson #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #st fanfic #st fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #st imagine #stranger things imagine

[shadow-says-hello]

Hisssssss…

So I had a dream last night that involved tickling and Eddie Munson. I changed a few things up, but here’s my fic. It takes place inside readers house.

Summary: Eddie gets a kitten, however the reader loves animals so much and cannot get a cat even though it’s all she ever wanted! Steve, Robin and Eddie try to help fix that problem.

Warning: fluff and tickles, slight swearing, anger and sadness

“My friends keep getting animals. I mean, last week she got a puppy and a kitten. I just want ONE animal.” You groaned.

“But you own a cat!” Steve said, puzzled.

“That’s my moms cat.” You groaned again. “Plus that thing doesn’t even like me. I just want a little companion to call my own.”

“Ok, but why can’t you get your own?” Eddie asked.

“Too expensive. And I don’t even own my own apartment yet! And my mom wouldn’t want another pet around!” You explained.

Eddie, Steve, and Robin looked at each other. Eddie looked back at you and hid his face behind his hair. “Y/n, I have to tell you something.” Eddie chewed his hair and stuttered.

But ooh! A secret! You’ve never been told a secret for a while! But you studied how he and the others faces were, giving you the signal that this was not going to be a good secret. “Y/n, I… I lied to you for a while…I got a kitten.”

Your heart dropped. It’s as if somebody put a billion dynamites inside your chest that have just exploded.

Eddie Munson, one of your best friends, not only got an animal that you wanted and that you are now super jealous of, but he lied to you??? Friends. Don’t. Lie.

“E-Eddie…how c-could you…? Why would y-you tell me now!!?? Why couldn’t you tell me then??!! Did you think I would make a huge deal about that?? We’re they in it too?!” You whined, pointing to Steve and Robin. Eddie’s face was hot red as he nodded yes.

“I-I’m really sorry…” Eddie was so guilty a tear fell from his eye, face still hidden behind his hair.

“I would’ve told you…I just wanted to wait until I invited you to my trailer…I…Y/n?” He said, but you had ran into the bathroom, locked the door, fell to the floor, and cried your eyes out.

You would never be getting a kitten. And your best friend hurt you. Was this really cry-worthy??? No. But being the stupid sensitive person you were, you couldn’t help it.

“What do we do now?” Robin asked.

“I don’t know. But I’d much rather see her looking cute and happy than see her all sad and mopey like this. Eddie, any suggestions?” Steve asked.

“We… I can… I don’t know what to do besides get her a real pet!” He struggled to say, but managed to squeeze out the sentence, whimpering and trying to pull himself together.

“What no! We cannot do that!” Steve said. “Get your shit together, Munson. Can you think of something else!!!???”

Eddie Munson, for the first time, thought straight. He wanted to tell you how truly sorry he is, so he wanted to give you something. He got his shit together and grabbed the keys. “Let’s go. I’ll take Robin with me, Steve, stay with her. I have the perfect plan.”

20 minutes later, you were whimpering like a sad puppy, not so much crying anymore in the bathroom, Steve sitting on the other side of the door on the ground, trying to talk to you.

“What is taking them so long!!!??” He groaned. And finally after a few seconds, Eddie and Robin came back home. Eddie had a plushy toy cat in his hand.

“Move, Harrington. I got this.” Eddie looked kind of confident.

“Look, Y/n, I should’ve never lied to you and kept the fact I got something you wanted a secret. I was being a horrible friend to you and I can’t be more sorry. So I got you a little present. It’s not as good as a real little puppy or kitty, but hopefully it can make you happy!”

Eddie apologized, handing you the plush kitten. You took the little cat and held it in your hands. It’s soft black and white fur and adorable squishy little face made you happy again, you hugged and snuggled the cat, and felt as Eddie pulled you in for a hug. You rested your head on his shoulder.

“I-it’s o-okay, Eddie.” You mumbled through all the snot and tears. “T-thank y-you for the kitttyyy.” You sniffled.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart. Now, do you love me?” He asked jokingly.

“You know I do and always will.” You smiled and giggled a bit, hiding your teary face in Eddie’s shoulder.

“Aww, was that a little laugh I heard? Can you do it again?” Eddie teased.

“Nahhhh…” you giggled.

“So, have you decided a name for your cat?” Eddie giggled, stroking your hair gently.

“Milkshake. You can call her Millie for short.” You answered.

“Well hello there Millie! Oh! What’s that? You also wanna see her smile? Okay then!” Eddie teased again, booping Milkshake’s nose. “Come on, y/n!!! Smile for Eddie!” He giggled more, tickling your side gently. You lasted about 5 seconds before giggling lots, making Steve and Robin peek in.

“Eheddie…nahhahahah…nohoho mohoreheheh” you giggled. Eddie began to spider along your belly, making you want to squeal by how gentle he was going. “OHKAY OHKAY THATS A BAHAD SPAHAT!!!!” You laughed harder, finally uncovering your face from his shoulder.

“There’s her pretty face!!! Yayyyy!!!!” Eddie cheered playfully, moving you so you were sitting with your back to his chest, allowing him to tickle some of your ribs as you still clutched onto your cat, Millie.

“Come here guys, let’s make her smile some more!” Eddie said, allowing Steve and Robin to join him as he wrapped his arms around your chest, leaving your stomach a possible target.

“Okay y/n, Ready?” Steve teased, as he pulled your shirt up a little bit to have access to your belly, getting your sides. Robin joined too, tickling your other side. Eddie decided to nuzzle his face into your neck, and you tried to crane your neck away but he was just too quick.

“AHA OHKAY GUHYS IT TIHICKLEHS!!!!!!” You squealed and pleaded more.

“Alright then, my love. Guys, wrap up your attack.” Eddie said, giving your neck a kiss and tickling your ribs one last time.

Robin finished up her attack and scribbled her fingers one more time on your side. And Steve pulled your shirt up farther, just enough so that he could blow a raspberry on your belly, releasing one of your snorts.

Eddie giggled a little bit before helping you up, and you grabbed Milkshake. “Would you like to see my kitten?” He asked.

“Yes, I would.” You moved Milkshake to your other free arm and held Eddie’s hand. Steve and Robin trailed along behind as you went out of your house and to Eddie’s trailer. As he opened the door, you were greeted by the cutest and smallest gray kitten, with big beautiful yellow eyes.

#lee reader #ler!eddie munson #ler!robin #ler!steve #cat meows

[philsleftnut]

He Can’t Stand it, He Doesn’t Want to.

Chapter Summary: Steve and Eddie come out here to smoke with each other often. High as kites, breathing in nothing but weed and each other. It was routine. Yet why does Steve hate the way he feels when he thinks just a little too hard about the time their fingertips touched. Eyes meet. Laughs crossed. It was too much. And too little.

Same conversation. Same people. But it's Eddie. What does he think while high with Steve Harrington in the middle of the night?

Notes: I was watching the absolutely lovely movie "As You Are" when I wrote most of this. So that would be what inspired it. Which has our Charlie Heaton in it! Amazing movie! Very sad.

This second chapter is written from the perspective of Eddie, and the first was Steve. All still in third person.

Find me on Ao3

Chapters: | ||

Word Count: 2946

Tags: Angst, hurt/little comfort, internalized homophobia, anxiety, recreational drug use.

His eyes were covered in a layer of glass. Dulling his surroundings, making a dreamy haze for him to stare at instead of the overwhelming reality of the outside world. His eyelids droop, and he wears a dopey smile. Basking in the feeling of everything becoming just a little bit quieter. Maybe his eyes are irritated, maybe his throat is drying, and maybe his stomach has dropped into the bottoms of his feet. But every conscious thought that would be bothered by it is slowly slipping from his mind to the point where he feels like he’s no longer a part of himself.

He feels like liquid when he moves, holding smoke in his throat and lungs. Him and Harrington have been here for a few hours and are finally on their last joint. Eddie looks over at Steve staring into the sky. Their faces are about a foot apart while their bodys don’t share the same luxury. Pressing to each other in the tiny space of the metal rocketship across from the old haunted Creel house. It wasn’t made for them. Though Eddie doesn’t mind. He enjoys the warmth of another person, sharing his night, sharing his high. Of course if you had told him a year ago that it would’ve been with Steve Harrington he would have laughed directly in your face. His Munson Doctrine certainly didn’t plan for anything like this.

Or anything like Steve’s tears falling down his cheeks. Staining the skin of his neck. His eyes are wide and it’s almost like he’s refusing to blink. Eddie leans in to inspect, blowing out his smoke directly in Harrington's face “Man, are you crying?”

Steve seems interrupted. “Fuck,” he sniffs. He wipes the tears away. “No, my eyes are just extremely dry because you keep doing shit like that.” He tumbles around with Eddie’s body trying to push him away. Like a cat playing with a toy. He doesn’t quite get it. Eddie laughs and fights back, their arms tangling, hands slapping each other, being careful of the lit joint in his hand. Steve makes a harder playful nudge getting Eddie fully off of him and Eddie respects it. He just smiles as the blunt is removed from his hands.

Steve takes his own drag of it. He holds it in like he’s supposed to. Eddie takes notice of the way he smokes weed now compared to when they first started doing this.

It’s not like Eddie Munson was the first person to ever introduce Steve to marijuana. He was just the first person to ever tell Steve to inhale, keep it in throat, let the high come to him, and experience the tasteful burn before even blowing out the first cloud. He even taught Steve how to shotgun. Steve used to cough it all out like vomit after a second or two of keeping the smoke in his mouth. Now he held it in like he needed it. Just like Eddie did.

Eddie watches his face flush with his high. His eyes get redder. He watches Steve’s face turn and his whole head get surrounded by his smoke. Eddie sputters, waving it away laughing. He leans back into his hands behind him swinging his legs. “Yeah ok I deserved that one. But do that again and reap the consequences Harrington.” He warns playfully.

“How come you can do whatever you want, but I have to have some weird limit on," Steve juts his hands around proving his point "face blowing.” They both can’t help but laugh at whatever he was trying to get across. Eddie thinks ‘face-blowing’ is the most ridiculous thing he’s heard all night. He leans his head back laughing harder. He pulls his lips in, stopping it outwardly, to see Steve drop the joint directly on the ground. “Aaah fuck.”

Eddie’s cheeks blow up with air as he tries to contain his chuckling. “Well now no one is gonna be doing any face blowing.” He goes to move out the rocket. Chains and loose cloth from his vest dragging across the metal platform. Back leaning against Steve from how small the space is. He hops out of the opening and walks around to the front where Steve legs hang out swaying back and forth absentmindedly.

He walks just up to the edge of his toes. There's a fear inside of him. One that might be greater if he wasn’t so high off his dick right now. A fear that stops him from slotting in between the two limbs casually and staying like that for the rest of the night.

He smiles. He tilts his head like a lost dog. And he remembers what he got up for. Eddie drops down to the ground, digging in the dirt for a halfway lit joint. He sucks in through his teeth as he finds it. The end lit briefly burning into his finger tip. Picking it up, he stands. He holds it out to Steve, dopey marijuana filled grin back on his face, brightly shining as if he should win some sort of prize. It’s wet and covered in mulch and dirt. Eddie’s pretty positive he can see a big crawling on it. He doesn’t care, it’s all that’s left until he can get more in a week and he spent most of his -money on this shit. And Steve to his surprise takes it.

Steve inspects it. He brings it up to his eyes and rakes them up and down the joint. He’s looking for something, maybe a sign out of nothing. He sees Steve squash a bug on his finger and flick it away. He’s gotten all he’s wanted out of it, he hands it back to Eddie. “You know, if this thing wasn't a biohazard before, it definitely is now.”

Eddie snorts, snatching his weed back. “You can’t waste good ganga Steve.” He brings it up to his lips to smoke. It tastes exactly like he picked up a piece of mulch and decided to chew on it. Mixed with maybe a little bit of marijuana. It’s disgusting.

“You always lie to the people you smoke with?”

Eddie scoffs, blowing his smoke out just to flick his leftover ash at Steve. “Man what are you talking about?”

“Now-“ Steve tries to block the ash flying toward him. It doesn’t work. Eddie can see the small burn marks at the bottom of his jeans where it lands. “That you have good shit.”

“Hey! My shit, is perfectly fine, thank you!” Placing a hand on his chest in defense. He walks closer, closer than he means to. Steve’s thighs spread. He’s in between just the beginning of his knees. He just smiles like everything he does is on purpose. He flips the blunt around to give Steve the last remaining hits. “Gotta actually smoke it to know.” Smiling turns into a smirk. He twiddles the joint between his fingers, wiggling his eyebrows temptingly.

“I don’t wanna put that thing in my mouth.” Steve says.

Eddie turns it around and holds the blunt in between the tip of his lips. “Well there’s an easy way around that.”

They’d done it before. Eddie showed Steve how to shotgun a while back. They never did it again, but now was a perfect opportunity. Nothing special. It’s only ghosting your lips over one of your straightest friends lips while you blow your smoke into their mouth. Feeling nothing but his body heat against yours. Eddie wasn’t gonna let it get to his head if he could help it. Just smile and practically kiss Steve Harrington.

“Ok.”

Eddie wastes confidence on the instant puff he takes. It’s way too long, but he knows it’s gonna be shared and attempts to make it longer. Steve waits for him, face pressing between two metal bars, casually expecting Eddie to do all of the work here. Eddie almost doesn’t mind.

He leans his face in, closing his eyes, mouth opening when their lips are close enough. Eddie couldn’t possibly touch them together, but a ghost of wanting lingers. He wants to make Steve and himself comfortable. But the angle isn’t hitting. He uses two fingers lifting the bottom of Steve’s chin, tilting his own head. The smoke falls between them and into Steve’s mouth. Eddie can feel Steve’s eyelashes open against his cheek. He doesn’t think that’s a good idea given their proximity and if the smoke gets in Steve’s eyes. He wants to say something, open his eyes too, close Steve off to the smoke. But before he can weigh his options there are two hands on his chest and they are pushing him backwards.

Eddie falls flat onto his ass on the ground in front of Steve, who is coughing up a storm. “Shit,” Steve says, hacking up a lung “sorry.”

Of course Steve chose to shove Eddie as far away from him as possible instead of choosing any logical answer to having too much smoke in their mouth. It makes Eddie roll his eyes lightheartedly. Not that Steve can see it, he lays all the way down. “Dude, you could’ve just closed your mouth or pulled away. Didn’t have to fully accost me onto the ground.”

“Are you okay?” Steve, still coughing, this time into his hand.

“Am I okay? Are you?” Eddie listens to the pathetic choking coming from Harrington. He comes up onto his forearms, mulch digging into his elbows. He looks at Steve through his knees. “You sound like you just swallowed the biggest load and are definitely not enjoying it.”

Steve starts choking out a laugh. Which inevitably does not help. “Don’t-'' Steve interrupts himself with more coughing, “Don’t make me laugh, you’re gonna make it worse.”

Eddie snickers with him falling back into his previous position. He watches the sky. Tries to notice the things he should but he can’t. The stars are dimming and his eyes feel like they're going to roll out socket and onto the dirt. He honestly wouldn't mind that. He sits in wait. Waiting for it to happen.

He uses drugs for this exact reason. Lessen the noise. The vibrance.

There is so much of it that he can’t stand walking around taking it in all the goddamn time. Including the vibrancy of one Mr. Steve Harrington. Who had Eddie wrapped around his little goddamn finger. But when they sat here. Got high together. It made the wrapping just a little less tight. He can relax.

Eddie hears movement coming from the rocket but doesn’t bother looking. He figured if Steve wanted something he would come and get it. And he did. He walks over and plops himself practically on top of Eddie. Their bodies are touching in a way Eddie will never allow himself the luxury, but Steve can. Steve can do anything he wants. He continues searching the sky for anything, when Steve looks over at him. He is staring desperately, practically crawling in to Eddie's skin and Eddie wants to stare back. Because maybe that’s what Eddie was looking for.

He faces Steve and he is a lot closer than he thought. Their noses brush together making him flinch slightly. Eddie chuckles, “You come onto all of the people you smoke with like this?” He teases.

“Uh- I- no.” It makes Steve blush and turn away. He quite likes seeing the boys flusteredness.

Eddie continues to joke, “so just your girls then?” There is a small part of Eddie, just a small one. That feels like he’s testing him. Poking fun at his high school foolishness with girls, just girls. To see if there is anything further Steve isn’t saying. He knows there isn’t the slightest chance. But there is a small part.

“I wish you were a girl.”

And it’s over. Eddie is over. His face drops as quickly as Steve sits up in place. Those six words sober him up quicker than anything ever will. Because he’s not a girl. And Steve wishes he was.

What does that even mean? And why does Eddie wish he was a girl for him too. Not for himself. For Steve. He believes in this moment he would do anything for Steve. Dress up in some frilly little skirt. Paint his whole face. Shave his legs. Wear uncomfortable underwear so Steve would simply lie back down. Although deep down the thought of any of that churns in his stomach. He doesn’t want to be a girl. He just wants Steve to want him too.

Nothing is going to happen right then. So, Eddie scoots forward in the dirt and lightly grabs Steve's shoulder to gain his attention. Work through this, ask him what he means and what he wants, but Steve rejects his touch like he’s a burn “No.”

“Steve-” “No.”

“Ok.” Is all Eddie can say before Steve is standing up and seemingly doing anything to get away from him.

Steve looks down hastily. Eddie believes he can hear a pin drop in the silence between the two of them. And he does. Something falls on the top of the rubber of Steve’s shoe. It triggers him into walking away, even further. Further away from Eddie.

Eddie doesn’t know what to do. His mind is still pinballing Steve’s words and his pathetic, yet immediate submission towards the boy. It makes him feel sick how easy it was. How whipped, wrapped, drunk for Steve his body seems to feel. All he can do is look at Steve while he leans against the rocket ship again. Grabbing two of the metal bars and bending halfway over, staring into the ground. Eddie understands that Steve probably needs to cope with what he’s said too. But to Eddie, completely ignoring him, feels selfish and that docile part of Eddie doesn’t care. Selfish Steve can do whatever he wants.

Except that.

Steve is screaming. No words. Just raw yells emerging deep from his throat. Eddie scrambles to his feet. He peers over from where he’s standing, not yet daring to come closer. “Steve?” He can’t hear him. “Steve!” He tries again. “STEVE.”

Steve still can’t hear him. His yelling seeps through his bones and into his ears, canceling out any noise around him. Eddie is scared. He moves toward Steve slowly, arms out. Like he’s afraid if Steve stops and turns around he might come for Eddie next. Every step closer is more terrifying than the last. Steve’s screams brand themselves into Eddie’s ears. He probably will hear them for the rest of his life. The night when Steve Harrington wished him away and then screamed that away too. It was heartbreaking.

Steve stops for a moment and Eddie thinks it’s over. He lets out a sigh of relief, dropping his hands before Steve’s cracking voice begins again. It’s shattering and broken. And Eddie can’t bear to listen to it. It’s getting louder and more high pitched and Eddie doesn’t know if someone around them can hear him. Hear the pitiful whines coming from his mouth that tear into his soul. Maybe it tears into theirs as well.

Eddie doesn’t want to get the cops called on them, again. So he pushes forward. “Steve!” he says. Continually unaware of his surroundings. Eddie's going to have to touch him. Shake him. Drag him out of the loud trance he’s in. He takes the few steps left and places his hands on Steve’s shoulders pressing forward lightly. “Jesus Christ, do you want us to get arrested?”

He jumps back. He’s still afraid of Steve and how he’s going to react. Afraid of what’s to come between them. “Sorry, but you couldn’t hear me and I couldn’t think of another way to get your attention.”

Steve looks weak. His hands wrap tightly around the metal and his face is completely red. He’s panting. Out of breath, he turns to face Eddie with a weak smile “Alright.” He rasps. Barely above a whisper. He flexes his fingers off the bars and stands up completely. He moves languidly around staring at the ground. He’s looking for something. Eddie just stares and watches. He feels as if he interrupts, he will disturb the hazey peace Harrington has found. Steve picks something up. It’s the forgotten joint. He looks directly at Eddie holding it out. “Got a light?”

“I- uh, yeah here.” Eddie stumbles to his pocket finding his lighter. He chucks it at Steve who catches it at his chest.

“Thanks.” He says quickly. Steve brings  the joint up to his mouth, and lights it. He shoves the lighter in his own pocket instead of returning it, he inhales. Spinning in circles before falling to the ground, meeting his previous position. Laying, staring at the sky, joint in his mouth. Steve blows the smoke out.

Eddie’s eyes are wider than they should be. Observing. Confused about Steve’s dramatic switch from screaming so desperately into the night, to simply stargazing. Eddie can still hear his echoing words. Echoing yells. But Steve is gone, he’s done. He’s forgotten about it. He doesn’t even know what he's done. Eddie can’t stand it.

Steve watches the stars. He counts them in his head and they twinkle in his eyes. “You know I alway thought the stars looked so bright from down here.”

It’s something Eddie will never get. He walks over and lies down next to Steve. Not affording himself the comfort of closeness as they were before. He's curious about what Steve sees. He stares at the dark sky. Taking the small roach out of Steve’s fingers smoking the last of it. Smoke clouds around him when he speaks. “Really? I always thought they looked quite dull.”

#steve harrington/eddie munson #steve harrington and eddie munson #steve and eddie #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things season four #angst #steve harrington angst #eddie munson angst #hurt and little comfort #hurt steve harrington #internalized homophobia #self hatred #screaming #sexuality crisis #bi curious #bisexual steve harrington #gay eddie munson #hurt eddie munson #anxious eddie munson #oblivious eddie munson #soft eddie munson #recreational drug use #smoking #shotgunning #as you are #as you are referencing