#steddie soulmates au

[brbsoulnomming]

Tell Me Sweet Little Lies Part 10

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | AO3

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They're a restless group, checking weapons, going over the plan, bunching together in tiny groups of twos and threes that shift and change as they all seek something - distraction, comfort, anything to keep their minds off what's coming, he supposes.

After a while, Eddie finds himself alone, standing at the little kitchen of the camper and staring into a cabinet like he could stomach anything even if it wasn't all but bare. Erica and Dustin are sitting with their heads leaning into each other, discussing something that must be pretty important with how focused they are, though Eddie can't make it out. Robin's sprawled out on the couch, Nancy's reading through her notes again, one long line of tension. Steve sits with Lucas and Max, all loose limbs and forced ease, like he's done this a dozen times before.

He probably has, Eddie realizes, wondering just how many times this little group has sat together like this, waiting for their turn in the action.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Steve stand to rock up on his toes, miming tossing a basketball into a hoop.

"And the crowd went wild," Steve says, grinning widely and voice just loud enough to carry to where Eddie's standing. "I should know, I was in the crowd."

Lucas scoffs, says something that Eddie can't make out, though there's something like a tiny smile tugging at his lips.

"Robin'll back me up!" Steve says, purposefully louder this time. "Right, Robs?"

"I know better than to blindly agree to anything just like that, not after last time," Robin calls back without even opening her eyes.

"What happened last time?" Eddie asks, too curious not to.

She opens her eyes now, sitting up so she can look piteously at Eddie. "He tricked me into going running at dawn."

"Ouch," Eddie says sympathetically, resolving right then to never let that happen to him. "Thanks for the heads up."

Steve looks between the two of them, nose scrunched up like he's not sure he likes them ganging up on him, which makes Eddie flash a wide, gleeful grin at him.

"You're backing me up that Lucas was awesome at the game," Steve says, waving his hand like he's waving off their previous conversation.

"Oh! Yeah, okay, that I'll back you up on. You were great, Sinclair."

"See?" Steve says, turning back to him triumphantly. "Would I tell you that you were epic if it wasn't true?"

Lucas ducks his head. "Yeah, well, you stood up to cheer for me whenever I even made a good pass, so your definition of what's epic might be a little suspect."

Steve makes another motion with his hands, though Eddie's not sure if it's supposed to mimic some sports move or is just a meaningless gesture. "Man, no one ever cheers at good passes, and they should! Getting the ball to someone is just as important as the one who-"

"You went to the game Friday night?" Dustin interrupts, sounding betrayed. "I thought you had a date?"

Eddie… didn't know that Dustin knew that much about what was going on in Steve's life, which. All right, maybe there was some truth to how much Dustin talked about the guy beyond their shared adventures in the Upside Down.

"I did!" Steve protests. "Brenda and I went to the game."

Eddie raises his eyebrows. "…you took your date to a high school basketball game?" He doesn't want to agree with Dustin, but - he kind of agrees with Dustin, here. If that's Steve's idea of romance…

Steve scowls at him. "No, I took my date to a championship game where one of my-" He cuts himself off, jaw snapping shut with an audible click.

Robin immediately pounces on his unfinished sentence, gleeful. "One of your kids! Aw, Steve, you took your date to see your kid's basketball game."

"Shut up!" Steve retorts. "I took my date to see one of my friends play, because it was important to him."

Lucas and even Max are grinning at him a little now - though given the gleam in their eyes, Eddie suspects they're getting ready for a whirlwind of teasing.

Eddie glances over at Dustin, expecting to see the same gearing up towards mockery, but instead the kid looks - almost hurt. Before he can say anything, Dustin's speaking up again.

"What, so some dumb basketball game is good enough to make a date out of, but coming to Hellfire isn't?" he demands.

Lucas's smile drops, and Steve frowns at Dustin.

"We really doing this now?" Steve asks.

Eddie looks back and forth between Dustin and Steve, bewildered. "Why the hell would Harrington ever come to Hellfire?"

Look, Eddie may be beyond sold on Steve Harrington being both a badass and a good guy, but he still can't see him anywhere near Hellfire or Dungeons and Dragons in general.

"Because I asked him to!" Dustin shouts. "Because it was important to me, and that's supposed to matter, because he's supposed to be my best friend!"

Silence echoes through the camper. Even Nancy and Erica, who had stayed out of the conversation, are just watching them now.

A muscle in Steve's jaw twitches, and then he nods. "Right, yeah, okay, I guess we're doing this now."

He stalks over to Dustin's side, grabbing the back of his shirt and hauling him towards the door of the RV. Dustin yelps and bats at his hand, but he doesn't actually stop Steve from tugging him outside.

The door slams shut behind them.

The awkward silence lingers. Nancy just looks confused, Lucas won't meet anyone's eyes, Erica and Max have twin expressions that are some mix between defiance and guilt, and Eddie -

"Jesus Christ, does the constant world saving make you all this dramatic about everything?" he asks.

Robin and Max snort, then level him with near identical bitch please looks.

"Do I have to bring up the table speeches again?" Robin asks, at the same time as Max says, "Said the guy who threw a hissy fit about someone missing a session of his dumb little club."

Eddie slaps a hand onto his chest, clutching his heart as if he's just been shot, and lets himself drop dramatically onto one of the chairs. "I am wounded, the likes of which I may never recover from! Will no one defend my honor?"

He casts a glance around the camper, wide eyed and beseeching, gaze never straying to the window. From this angle, he can just see the back of Steve's head, and he'd rather keep everyone's attention away from whatever emotional warfare is going on outside.

"Don't look at me, fool," Erica says. "You are a dramatic little bitch, those're the facts."

"This is stupid," Lucas says suddenly, standing up and pacing across the camper. "I told Steve it doesn't matter. Everyone was right, okay, there's way more important things than a basketball game, and I don't even know if I still want to be on the team after all of this. It's not like it mattered to any of you before, so why are we all talking about this now?"

The levity that Eddie'd been trying to bring back is sucked completely out of the RV, which - yeah, okay, fine, fair enough, this isn't a time for levity. It's just that Eddie doesn't really know what to do without that, and he casts a desperate little look over at Robin and Nancy.

Nancy and Robin exchange a look.

"Lucas," Robin says, softer than he's seen her so far. "Did it matter to you?"

"I-" Lucas stops, looking miserably over at Max before his eyes cut away. "I don't want to answer that."

He doesn't want to lie, he means, or else Max will know, and he doesn't want to admit that it mattered. The way Lucas looks right now is like a kick in the teeth.

Eddie did that. Eddie made one of the kids feel isolated because of something he enjoyed doing, Eddie made the kid's friends find a fucking replacement for him, Eddie made sure that not only did he not get to participate in the final session, but that he was made fully aware that they would all choose Hellfire over him and his shitty basketball game.

Fuck, that Eddie guy is an asshole.

"I should have moved Hellfire," Eddie gets out through gritted teeth.

Lucas's head snaps up. "What?" he asks in disbelief.

"Look, if we're all going to ride off to our very probable heroic deaths soon, then I'm going to do it with a clear conscience and not feeling like I'm the one who made you look like a kicked puppy, all right? Your terrible choice in extracurriculars and even worse choice in new friends notwithstanding, I should have moved Hellfire. It wasn't fair of me to make you choose, or to make your friends choose between you and the campaign, or to hassle you all about it."

The door slams open, making Eddie and several others jump, and Dustin stomps back up the stairs with Steve right on his heels. Dustin's shoulders are hunched and his face is screwed up like he's still upset, but there's no lingering tension between him and Steve. Steve ruffles Dustin's hair, then grips his shoulder briefly as he passes him, so Eddie assumes they've worked whatever it was out.

Dustin stops next to Lucas. "Hey Lucas, can I talk to you for a sec?"

Lucas looks at him warily. "What about?"

Dustin sighs. "About me being sorry?"

Lucas raises an eyebrow. "Sorry for what?"

"For making you feel like your friendship wasn't important and not being there to support you?" Dustin gets out, looking at Lucas pleadingly as he edges towards the door, clearly hoping not to have to keep going with everyone else here.

Lucas lets him squirm a little longer before nodding. "Yeah, okay, we can talk. I guess I'm sorry too."

The two of them tromp back down the steps, the door swinging open and closed again. Steve comes to stand by Robin and Eddie, raising one eyebrow at him when he sees how he's still just flopped over the chair.

Eddie waggles his eyebrows at him, grinning. "You tell him that you weren't mad, just disappointed?"

"Shut up," Steve mutters, which Eddie is going to assume means yes.

Nancy's smiling, looking at Steve all amused and a little fond, and even though Eddie was the one who encouraged Steve to go for it, that makes something twist in his stomach.

"Did you do the hands on your hips thing?" Nancy teases.

Steve rolls his eyes. "Little shit just needed a little reassurance, that's all. And a smack upside the head."

Max groans, bending over to rest her forehead on her knees. "I don't want my soulmate to come save me from stupid boys and their delicate feelings."

Eddie beams, resting his elbows on the table and cupping his chin in his hands. "Look, guys, we created a monster. A soulmate talking rebel."

Max chucks a candy bar wrapper at him without looking. He expects it to go wide, or flutter to the ground without making it very far, but it must have some candy remnants still stuck in it because it smacks him right on the forehead.

Which, well, means there's only one thing to do.

"Free snack!" he crows, opening it up to scrape melted chocolate and caramel off with his teeth.

"Dude!" Steve says at the same time as Robin yells, "Gross!"

"Oh my God, Eddie, if you're hungry we have food," Nancy says.

Max sits up enough to fix her gaze on Erica, gesturing at Eddie. "This?" she asks, judgment dripping from her tone. "This is the guy your brother and his stupid friends have decided is their new dork lord?"

"He's your soulmate," Erica scoffs. "He's your responsibility now."

Eddie grins at them both, hoping there's chocolate in his teeth, just so he can watch them make grossed out faces.

When he looks up at Robin, Steve, and Nancy, all three of them are clearly trying not to laugh, and oh, that's even better.

"Now!" Eddie says, pitching his voice a little in a muted version of his dungeon master boom. "Where is this food I was promised? Cause I gotta tell you, Wheeler, cabinets are looking a little bare unless we want to eat tomatoes or beans out of a can."

He's not certain what he's expecting - maybe for them all to look around at each other before he or Max sigh and start doing what every kid who's been left to their own devices before they're old enough to be able to grocery shop knows how to do. It sure as shit isn't for all of them to look at Steve.

Steve shrugs. "Yeah, sure, I'll see what they've got."

Eddie stares at him as he slides past to peek in the cabinets, pulling out canned vegetables and cream of chicken soup and probably expired spices, a worn looking pot and a can opener and a few half eaten bags of chips.

He leans over into Robin's space so he can whisper, "Can Steve actually cook, or are we all about to have food poisoning?"

She flicks him on the forehead. "Steve's a great cook," she says, and she sounds just a little bit irritated, which -

Not what he was going for, at all, and he leans back, hands up palms out to show he's backing off. Nothing that could be interpreted as talking behind Steve's back, got it.

"Just wary about the expiration date on all those cans," he deflects.

She raises one eyebrow at him, clearly not buying it - he did just lick chocolate out of a candy bar wrapper, after all - but she lets him have it.

Max comes up behind Steve, grabbing the can opener and getting to work opening up the cans he's set out. Robin leans back into Eddie's space, his transgression apparently forgiven, and rests her head on her hand, just watching them. It makes him feel like they've done this before, and there's a moment where he's not sure if he should feel out of place.

Nancy comes to sit at the table, looking a bit tentative. Erica's worming her way in there before anyone can say anything, immediately providing commentary on what Steve's doing like it's a cooking show, and something in Eddie settles in a way he's not sure he's ever felt outside of the trailer with Uncle Wayne.

Dustin and Lucas come stomping back in when Steve's got a mess of diced tomatoes and beans and corn and cream of chicken and spices in the pot cooking over a hot plate, all bluster like they think if they make enough noise no one will call attention to why they were outside in the first place.

No one does, but Eddie's pretty sure that's more to do with the fact that no one wants to talk about it than anything else.

"What're we having?" Dustin asks, while Lucas leans in to look only to get shoved away by Max.

"Taco soup," Steve replies. "There's chips to go on top when it's done."

There's not enough tortilla chips for everyone, but it doesn't really matter. Robin shoves handfuls of potato chips on her soup without complaint, and Nancy digs into hers without bothering with any chips at all. Eddie joins Dustin and Lucas in fighting over the bag of corn chips, only to have Max calmly snatch it while they're occupied and share it with Erica.

Both Lucas and Dustin turn huge, sad eyes on Steve - who'd clearly grabbed tortilla chips for his own bowl before anyone else - but he just gives them an unsympathetic smirk and shovels a big spoonful of soup and corn chips into his mouth.

The soup's good, tortilla chips or not, and Eddie actually kind of likes the salty crunch and extra flavor from the barbecue potato chips he'd put in his. Part of him wonders how - or why - Steve Harrington knows not only how to cook, but how to cook with whatever ingredients are left in someone's pantry. It's the first hot food he's had in days, though, and the mood is probably the lightest it's been in a while, so he doesn't ask.

He just eats his taco soup, hunched around a cramped table in a little camper with a group of people who risked their lives for him, who are all about to risk their lives more, and tries not to feel guilty for having a moment of contentment.

—

When Max suddenly jolts up, they all know it must be time.

I'm not ready, appears on Max's arm. It isn't time to move forward with the plan.

Eddie feels like a fucking live wire of nerves, stripped raw and bleeding. Part of him wants to nervously ask more questions about this girl with superpowers, what her plan is, how they're sure they're all on the same page, but the others have a focused air of grim determination about them and he's a little afraid to bring down the morale.

It doesn't really matter, he guesses, since he'd been on board with this plan before they looped in Max's magical soulmate.

Before he knows it, Steve is telling him and Dustin not to be cute, if anything goes wrong, and fuck the way that stupid boy is looking at them. He understands it with Dustin - as much as he hadn't gotten it before, it's obvious that Steve and Dustin think the world of each other, and Eddie's pretty sure that Steve would do just about anything to protect the kid. But Steve is looking at him, too, like he gives a shit if Eddie makes it out of this - like he gives more than a shit.

Eddie wants so bad it nearly overtakes his brain completely. If this is going to be the last time that they see each other, he wants Steve to know - to at least consider -

He chickens out just like he had the last time they were in the Upside Down together, scrambles to come up with something other than I'm pretty sure you're my soulmate - and tells Steve to make him pay instead of saying anything really important.

He's running on pure adrenaline after that, playing like his life depends on it - his life does depend on it, fuck, all of their lives do, and he pours more of himself into his guitar than he ever has before, all that bottled up terror and rage and grief, until he feels like he's all burned up with it.

It's not done.

Of course it's not done, of course the little shits found a way to get past their reinforced walls, and as he looks up at Dustin shouting at him, he knows there's no other option.

Eddie's not going to run this time. They all brought him in, made him a part of this party, relied on him, and he's not going to let them down.

When it comes down to it, anyway, he's the most expendable. He's been nothing more than an NPC for most of this, and yeah, he's been helping the party - flirted with one of its members, maybe thought he could be something more - but in a campaign, his death makes the most sense. A valiant NPC that the player characters will mourn, but they'll all survive onto the next campaign.

It was always going to be him.

There's been so many moments where he thought he was going to die during this last week that it seems fitting for it to finally happen, for it to be the demobats that get him. He makes it longer than he thought it would, but he can't fight them off forever, can't keep them from pinning him down and tearing into him like he's a fucking banquet on display.

And he thinks, one last time, that this is it. This is going to be how he dies.

But he doesn't.

Taglist (hopefully I got everyone, and always happy to add more!): @vampireinthesun @koibug @estrellami-1 @mentalcyborg @allbimyself26 @questionablequeeries @the-s-is-silent @whimsicalwitchm @a-gae-af-racoon @tinyplanet95 @n0-1-important @velocitytimes2 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @newtstabber @jcmadgirl @roblingoblin285 @lexyvey @paperbackribs @goodolefashionedloverboi @evix-syne666 @raisedbylibrarians @stxrcrossed186 @nightmareglitter @greekgeek24 @starman-jpg @crazyhatlady86 @imfinereallyy @manda-panda-monium @deleataecount @prideandsensibility @chaoticvictorianspirit @maydillydally @disrespectedgoatman @scarlet-malfoy @i-less-than-three-you @hbyrde36 @hallucinatedjosten @dragonsandgayships @arepaconchocolate @g4ys0n @novelnovella @bisexualdisastersworld @ghostofyourvampiregf @scarletyeager @pettrichore @nerd-and-nervous @hiimlevi @queenie-ofthe-void @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @bookworm0690

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Part 11

#steve harrington #steddie #eddie munson #robin buckley #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #lucas sinclair #dustin henderson #max mayfield #erica Sinclair #Nancy Wheeler #steddie soulmates au

[stevesjockstrap]

Eddie Month day 12

prompt: soulmates & perceptive & Eight - Sleeping at Last | read on ao3

rated: T | a/n: This was supposed to be fluffy and cute but then this song, man

I remember the minute It was like a switch was flipped I was just a kid who grew up strong enough To pick this armor up And suddenly it fit God, that was so long ago, long ago, long ago I was little, I was weak and perfectly naive And I grew up too quick

Steve had called a meeting. It had been getting out of hand.

“Listen guys, it’s completely normal for everyone to be processing Eddie’s death in different ways…” Dustin was already shaking his head about to interrupt him, so he put his hand up. “He’s gone, buddy. And that sucks, and it’s hard, but it’s going to be okay.”

Dustin and Will exchanged a look.

“Go ahead and say it,” he sighed and sank onto the coffee table in front of them, his head in his hands.

“We both had the same dream about him last night. And Max and Lucas said he was in their dream the night before. Sometimes he can talk and sometimes he can’t. Last night, Will was able to ask him a question!”

Steve looked up at them. At their little hopeful faces. He knew this was the closest they’d dealt with death before. Dustin had been up close and personal with someone he loved when they just slipped away. But this wasn’t something he knew how to deal with.

“What did you ask?”

“I asked him if we could help him. And he got excited. Jumping around and waving. When he was able to, he just said one word.” Will looked at Dustin. Like he wasn’t sure he wanted to give this information to Steve. Steve wasn’t sure he wanted it, either.

“Guys, look, maybe we can get Owens to get someone for you to talk to, this-“ he let his head fall into his hands again. He wouldn’t cry in front of them. But he was so close.

Will reached out to touch his arm. “Steve, he said your name. He said ‘Steve.’ Like it was the answer. Have you… has he shown up in your dreams yet?”

Steve coughed out a sob, barbed wires tangling around his throat as he tried to hold them back. That was the kicker, wasn’t it? Eddie hadn’t visited him in his dreams. Only the party and now Max. El couldn’t find him in any dimensions. He shook his head, not able to lift it up or speak.

“Okay, it’s okay,” Robin sat next to him and pulled him into her chest. That didn’t help the silent sobs wracking his body. This wasn’t how this was supposed to be going. He was supposed to be comforting the kids. Telling them this is fine and normal but to stop trying to make it something supernatural and just grieve.

Robin held him and seemed to have sent everyone silently to another room. Or maybe that had been Nancy. Anyways when he’d raised his head he was thankful he didn’t have an audience to his puffy snotty face.

“I don’t know how to fix this, Bobby. This isn’t something I can hit with a bat or throw Molotov cocktails at. How do I be there for the kids while I’m trying to hold myself together, too?”

“You just keep doing it, babe. You can be weak in front of them. You show them that it’s hard but it gets easier, and you talk to them. These dreams have to mean they’re processing it, but they’re not used to having a problem they can’t fight or a puzzle that needs solving. We all just have to keep doing what we’re doing and being as normal as possible.”

They both laughed. “Who do we know who’s normal?”

“Not a clue.”

Now you won't see all that I have to lose And all I've lost in the fight to protect it I won't let you in, I swore never again I can't afford, no, I refuse to be rejected I want to break these bones 'til they're better I want to break them right and feel alive You were wrong, you were wrong, you were wrong My healing needed more than time

Eddie was in his bedroom at the trailer again. He usually ended up there, more often than not. Probably because that’s where he spent most of his time. When he was alive.

He picked around in the debris. Chuckling to himself, he picked up the Magic 8 Ball he found under his bed.

“Am I dead?” He asked before shaking it vigorously.

The little die inside stopped. Signs point to yes.

“Where is my body?” Cannot predict now.

Eddie threw the thing with a howl.

When I see fragile things, helpless things, broken things I see the familiar I was little, I was weak, I was perfect, too Now I'm a broken mirror

Steve laid awake in his dark bedroom, staring around at the shadows. He blinked. The shadow behind his door moved. He wrapped his hand around the hilt of the bat under his pillow. The shadow moved towards him slowly.

Eddie sat on the floor next to the bed, fidgeting with his hands and mumbling to himself.

It was so normal for a second Steve was about to ask him what was wrong. Why he was creeping around in his house at night without waking him up. Steve told himself he’d fallen asleep and he was finally getting to see Eddie in his dream.

When Eddie looked up at Steve, they made eye contact and Eddie was the one who seemed shocked. His big eyes widened even more and his eyebrows disappeared under his bangs. Crab-walking backwards to try to get away. When he banged into the wall he stopped.

“Are you okay?” Steve breathed, unable to help himself.

“Can you see me?”

“Yeah?”

“What? How?”

Steve shook his head. “I don’t know.” He sat up, but forced himself not to approach Eddie. “What are you?”

Eddie huffed a shallow laugh. “That’s the million dollar question, Harrington. I don’t even know. I remember getting attacked by the bats. I remember talking to Dustin, and your face. Then nothing. I’ve been kind of popping up places. I figured out how to touch things, after a while.”

“And go in the kids dreams.” His voice was low and dry.

Eddie winced with a nod. “It was an accident, the first time. I’d just, brushed Dustin’s hair out of his face. Then I was there. With him. But we couldn’t really talk to each other. Nothing like this. And you’re awake. No one awake has been able to see me.”

“But it’s you? Really you?”

“As far as I know.” Eddie shrugged.

They stared at each other for a few moments before Steve jumped out of bed, scaring both of them as the bat still in his hand dropped to the floor.

“What are you doing?” Eddie yelped.

“I have to call Robin.”

But I can't let you see all that I have to lose All I've lost in the fight to protect it I can't let you in, I swore never again I can't afford to let myself be blindsided

“Where?”

“Right there.” Steve pointed at him, sitting on the couch.

“There’s nothing there, Steve.” Robin looked back at him with a sad look on her face. “Are you sure this isn’t from the meeting tonight? You’re projecting, because you’re in-“

“No, Robin. And stop talking like that. Eddie is here, and it’s- it’s not polite.” That didn’t make sense to any of them, apparently.

“I told you no one’s been able to hear or see me, Steve.” He sighed, pulling his legs up onto the couch to hug them. “Well, except for you.”

When it got late enough in the morning to call everyone else, they all came over. Steve made pancakes and coffee and they all filed in. No one else could see or hear him.

He took to staying close by Steve’s side, it was unsettling when people walked through him or accidentally sank through him sitting on the couch. The kids were constantly asking where he was in the room or asking Steve what he was saying. It got to be too much after not having any attention on him, so he was hiding out a bit in the kitchen with Steve. He didn’t mind because everyone was sort of looking at him like he was making this all up, even after a round of questions that only Eddie would know.

“It’s okay, Eddie. We’re going to figure this out.”

Steve reached to him, seemingly on autopilot. But he felt pressure on his shoulder where he was touching. They both froze. Steve turned to look at him.

“Eds-“

“I can feel you. Holy shit, Steve.” He put his hand on top of his on his shoulder. They stared at each other for a moment, then Steve yelled for Robin.

I'm standing guard, I'm falling apart And all I want is to trust you Show me how to lay my sword down For long enough to let you through Here I am, pry me open What do you want to know? I'm just a kid who grew up scared enough To hold the door shut And bury my innocence But here's a map, here's a shovel Here's my Achilles' heel

“I know what this sounds like. I know, okay? Please stop looking at me like that.”

“Steve, I’m sorry. I know it’s been hard. But you’re saying you’re the only one able to see, hear, and now touch the dead guy you had a crush on. Yesterday you were the one who wanted to have an intervention because the kids were dreaming about him. I think I have a right to be concerned.”

Steve paced around his bedroom. “Yesterday!” He stopped and went to sit next to her on his bed. She looked at him sadly again. “Look, Rob, yesterday Will told me Eddie said my name in his dream! And today he showed up to me. That has to mean something. Maybe he’s stuck somewhere, or he’s getting stronger. Please just believe that I’m not hallucinating or losing my mind, okay?”

I'm all in, palms out I'm at your mercy now and I'm ready to begin I am strong, I am strong, I am strong enough to let you in

Steve had gone to talk to Robin again, and he’d promised he’d stay downstairs. He’d put Eleven in charge of him, guarding a dining room chair so no one sat on him. She seemed nice, he couldn’t talk to her or touch her, but she looked vaguely where his face would be and talked quietly to him, like this was normal.

Steve came back downstairs with Robin and they both came over to him. El wrapped an arm around Steve’s waist and Steve casually dropped a kiss to the top of her head. He tore his gaze away from them. Trying to ignore the selfish wanting in his gut.

“Eddie, Will said yesterday in his dream you, uh, you said my name. Like an answer when he asked if we could help. Do you remember that?”

“Oh. Yeah. It’s hard for me to talk to them like that. I have to chose my words carefully. But I said your name, because I couldn't go in your dreams. When I’d find myself in your room, and tried, you know, touching your forehead, nothing would happen. I assumed it was a clue. Something that was different, at least. You know?”

He relayed that to Robin and Eleven. They didn’t seem impressed.

“You said something about touching things before?”

Eddie nodded. Then he got it. “Oh yeah. I’m sorry I forgot about that. I should be able to move stuff around. I’ve, uh, never done it with an audience.” Eddie felt terrible for not thinking of this sooner, he’d been watching and listening to everyone all morning, thinking Steve was delusional or having hallucinations.

They all went to the living room. Eddie started getting anxious. He laughed to himself. When Steve raised an eyebrow at him, he laughed out a, “performance anxiety.” Steve shook his head and laughed.

Steve handed him a book from a shelf. He took it, concentrating on keeping the book in his hand. Robin and Nancy gasped. The kids nodded and laughed.

He tossed the book to Robin, who flailed but caught the book between flat hands. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry, Eddie. Steve, I-“

“It’s fine. I didn’t believe the kids either until last night.”

Nancy and Robin bombarded him and Steve with more questions.

I'ma shake the ground with all my might And I will pull my whole heart up to the surface For the innocent, for the vulnerable And I'll show up on the front lines with a purpose

Steve ended up having to limit the amount of magic tricks they all were asking Eddie to do, he even disappeared for about an hour and Steve was terrified they’d broken him or exhausted him or something. But suddenly he was standing back in the dining room. He explained he didn’t ever have control over where he popped around to. He’d ended up back at the old trailer. Dustin hypothesized that he needed to go back there to recharge. Steve explained Eddie’s shrug and look of uncertainty. Steve gave up his spot on the couch for him, but leaned against the arm and into his legs. He didn’t feel solid, but he didn’t fall through him like the kids had. It was tingly along his bare arm, not unpleasantly. Eddie reached a hand down to caress his cheek. Steve gasped and had to make up something stupid when everyone looked over at him. Argyle piped up from the corner a few minutes later, “You know, maybe you’re soulmates and your soul called his back. Like, that’s why you’re the only one who can see or hear him. And you’re who he asked for.”

Steve gulped and couldn’t make himself look up at Eddie. Until his hand came down to pull his chin up, to see Eddie beaming at him, tears in his eyes. “That sounds right.”

And I'll give all I have, I'll give my blood, give my sweat An ocean of tears will spill for what is broken I'm shattered porcelain, glued back together again Invincible like I've never been

@eddiemonth

#Eddie month #eddie month fic #Mine #Steddie #steddie fic #steddie soulmates au #Stranger things #stranger things fic #eddie munson #ghost!eddie #Maybe need a part two Kinktober fic with ghost!sex?

[fandsart]

Ok, soulmates au that's similar to the nail bat and nail shield tattoos aus, but instead of that it basically relates to the inciting incident. Steve has a tattoo of a broken bottle and Eddie has one of an oar

#steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steveddie #steve x eddie #soulmates au #steddie soulmates au #fandsart

[kennahjune]

Thinking of Steddie Soulmates where you feel every pain your soulmate feels.

Thinking of little Steve feeling every backhand and punch from Eddie’s dad.

Thinking of little Eddie feeling Steve break his arm and the pain being so much worse because his parents refuse to take him to the hospital until the school gets involved.

Thinking of Eddie finally moving in with Wayne and sure, the paternal beating are done, but now he’s just a small town Freak that’s constantly targeted.

Thinking of Eddie and Steve in their Sophomore/Freshman years respectively, not knowing who the other is outside of rumors and (unknowingly) their shared pain.

Thinking of Eddie finally escaping pain, the bullying turning to mainly verbal shit.

Only to be thrust right back into pain because his soulmates a walking hazard.

Thinking of Eddie having no idea what’s going on when he suddenly feels like one giant bruise after Steve’s beat up by Jonathan. Eddie watching Steve fall from grace in his Junior year and not connecting the dots.

Billy coming along and smashing a fucking plate over Steve’s head while Eddie’s peacefully sleeping. Eddie jolting awake with a shout because /holy fucking shit ow—/

Neither of them connecting the dots.

Then Steve graduates, and Eddie’s held back. And the pain subsides for a bit.

And then fuck all happens in Starcourt and Eddie literally feels like he’s dying and Jesus H. Christ is his soulmate /ok/??? Like they are getting seriously fucked up.

And then that recedes and it ok for a while— Eddie will still get killer pains that seem to circulate in his chest and head, but that’s to be expected with whatever tf his poor soulmate is going through year after year.

And then the fuckery of March 1986 happens and Chrissy Cunningham is dead in his trailer— his home— and he’s wanted for fucking murder and hiding in Rick’s dingy ass boat house—

And then he’s shoving none other than Steve Harrington up against a wall with a broken bottle helps to his throat. Eddie’s so piped on adrenaline he barely feels the sting in his back, but he does feel the zing of pressure on his throat and ok /ow—/

And he’s staring at Steve Harrington, who looks kinda terrified and so pretty and Eddie’s holding a bottle to his throat and is that Dustin?—

And—

And holy shit.

Eddie’s eyes widen at the same time as Steve’s and the realization hits them both at once.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #robin buckley #will byers #lucas sinclair #steddie #max mayfield #el hopper #steddie fics #steddie idea #steddie soulmate au #gonna do smth with steve and robin being literal platonic soulmates #steve and eddie going through the bat bites #steve saving eddie in the UD because of their soul bond #i can’t think of anything else #I’m so fucking tired 😭 #goodnight (probably)

[batsbratsandbarbedwire]

Steddie soulmate au where your soulmate's favorite song constantly plays in your head.

How long til Steve's like "why is there always screaming?"

Eddie stomping on tables doing his little non-conformist dance with, like, Springsteen's I'm on Fire on loop in his brain.

Steve's concussions, the headaches, the chaos. He's alone in the dark, trying to sound out what the screams are saying to distract himself from the pain.

Eddie's got The Beachboys and ABBA and Springsteen cassettes hidden under his mattress because once you're a little boy who wasn't loved, even reformed under the unconditional love of Wayne Munson, you don't take love for granted at all, and he'll be damned if he's not gunna know everything about anything his soulmate loved.

Steve keeping little pencil mark tallies on the corner of his desk at home for how many times a week the song in his head changes.

An Iron Maiden song Eddie loved for a day catches for some reason, and he hears it back in his own head for the next two weeks and he's fucking giddy with it.

Steve fixated, gets really good at deciphering the screams, knows the full lyrics of every song by the end of the first night he hears them. Keeps him company at home.

Once, Eddie's picking Dustin up from Steve's. Steve waits out on the driveway with Dustin, talking shit and fucking off, Eddie pulls up. When Dustin climbs in, he shuts the door, windows are down, Steve pokes his head in to acknowledge Eddie, hears the song. It's been on loop in his head for three days. He knows every word. They don't always catch for that long. He looks up at Eddie. Blinks.

Eddie's caught for a second, by the look on Steve's face. Dustin's shuffling through his bag, looking for a miniature he wants to show Eddie, but Steve's lips quirk up a little. And then he says, "doubt sunk itself in you, it's teeth and talons through, you're living catch two two, deluding."

Steve watches Eddie's eyes flick to his radio, then back to Steve.

"This ones lasted a few days?" Steve says quietly.

Eddie's eyes drop to Dustin, then back up to Steve. He grins. "Modern witchhunt, mass hysteria. Fits, huh?"

"Yeah," Steve smiles. "Little bit."

Dustin pulls out his figure, starts rambling to Eddie, pauses, nods and says "later, Steve," before he's on about his figure again, talking a mile a minute.

Eddie laughs. He leans over the console. Grins innocently at Steve. He taps his temple. "We'll talk about why this caught you later, big boy."

Steve's warm as he watches the van full off. The song in his head doesn't change for another two weeks.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steve x eddie #platonic stobin #steddie soulmate au

[hairmetal666]

TW for internalized homophobia and related bad decisions

Steve is 12 and he thinks about finding his soulmate all the time.

You're supposed to find them through touch; your life together will flash in front of your eyes. They're rare, though, soulmates. So rare that most people never find theirs. So rare that some people say they're made up.

Steve wants to be one of the lucky few. He wants it to be a true, unbreakable bond, a love he gets to have forever.

He wonders if he'll find his soulmate at school. He's popular, he thinks. Tommy would say they were popular. But Tommy's definition of popular mostly has to do with the number of kids he can get away with being mean to, and that's not really Steve's deal. Tommy is like a prey animal, the way he can find weaknesses.

There's a new boy at school. Steve doesn't know his name, but they have English together. He's too thin, with huge brown eyes, and all his clothes are too big. His head's been inexpertly shaved and he never looks anybody in the eye. It's only a matter of time before he catches Tommy's interest, and Steve wishes he could stop it somehow, but he's never been good at going against Tommy.

The day comes, of course. They're standing in the hall, the new boy walking towards them, head down, as always. Tommy nudges Steve says, "What a loser."

And Steve shrugs, starts to ask Tommy about football, if the Colts can make the Super Bowl, but the boy is nearing and Tommy is cackling.

"Watch this." Tommy sticks his foot out.

The boy doesn't react fast enough. He falls forward with a bitten off yelp, and Steve moves without really thinking, only knows he can't stand to see him fall. He catches the new kid beneath his armpits, Steve's thumbs brushing the soft skin his arms.

The world around him falls away at the touch.

---

He's sitting on the floor in the band room, Eddie--the boy's name is Eddie--next to him. Eddie's hair is a little longer and Steve's in a green polo he doesn't recognize, and he's never been in the band room in his life. They're leaning into each other and laughing and Eddie's so beautiful.

---

They're in the woods--Skull Rock, Steve thinks. Eddie's hair is curled and frizzed around his chin, and he's laughing, his cheeks pink, his dimples prominent. He tries to pull his hair in front of his face, but it's not long enough yet to reach. Steve is overwhelmed, wants to kiss him so bad. He's never had to wait to kiss someone, or been unsure, or--

He wants to kiss Eddie.

So, he does.

It's hard, desperate, not the first kiss Steve expected, but then they've been waiting for so long.

---

Steve stands in the hallway of Hawkins High. He's wearing a striped, beige short-sleeved polo, and flirting with Nancy Wheeler.

He likes Nancy, she's pretty and smart and fun. And it's easy. He can hold her hand. Can introduce her to his parents. Can take her on dates and kiss her in public.

She bats her big blue eyes at him, and he can't help but kiss her.

He pulls away gently, brushing his thumb against her cheek, and when he looks down the hall, Eddie is there, frozen. His mouth is wide, his eyes glassy.

Steve thinks the way his heart stutters must be what dying feels like.

---

He's sitting on his diving board, facing away from the pool. He smokes a cigarette and there's a bat studded with nails at his feet, what the fuck. Music thuds, shrieks and laughter seep into the cool night air.

He should be playing the gracious host. He should be having a good time. Instead, his eyes search the woods and he taps another smoke out of the pack.

"Harrington?" The voice makes him jump, hand flexing around the bat handle. "It's freezing out. What are you doing?"

He recognizes the voice now, doesn't turn, doesn't respond, can't stand to see another person he let down; another person who could call him bullshit and be 100% correct.

"Do you not have a jacket? C'mon, man."

Something warm settles over his shoulders, and he inadvertently breathes in weed and leather and cedar. He squeezes his eyes shut, like that will make the comforting, familiar scent go away. He'll have to move to shrug off the jacket, though, which would mean acknowledging Eddie's presence.

"Can you at least say something, Harrington? You're freaking me out."

"I'm fine, Ed--Eddie." The nickname falls from his lips too easily. He doesn't miss how Eddie flinches.

His hair is long now, down to his shoulders, brittle looking in the cold. He's wearing a t-shirt and worn flannel, arms wrapped around his chest for warmth now that his jacket is draped over Steve's shoulders.

Steve is an idiot. He's such an idiot. Chasing after Nancy when Eddie is--

"I'm sorry," he says. He turns to face his soulmate, then. "I'm sorry about Nancy, I--"

Eddie jerks back like he's been hit. "Fuck you, Harrington," he snarls.

---

He sits in the back of an ambulance, eyes swollen shut, face throbbing. He's wearing a sailor suit for inexplicable reasons, which is almost more upsetting than the ambulance. He smells like puke and something toxically sweet.

A girl is with him, one he doesn't recognize, but he feels deeply, instinctively protective of her. He holds her shaking shoulders tight, tries to whisper comfort to her through his busted and bleeding mouth.

He's pretty sure he has a concussion.

"Steve!" Someone screams over the sounds of the EMTs and firefighters, of the building burning and collapsing behind them.

Eddie bursts through the gathered onlookers and past the ring of police cars enclosing them. He's falling into the ambulance before Steve has a chance to react.

"Sweetheart," Eddie sobs. He tries to cup Steve's face, but his fingers flutter around the damage. "Sweetheart, oh my god. I came as soon as I heard. Are you--what can I--"

Steve stares at him--his hair falling from its messy bun, his cutoff Metallica tee, concern and love leaking from those brown, brown eyes--and bursts into tears.

---

They sit on the roof of his house, sharing a joint back and forth. It's chilly, bordering on cold, winter just on the horizon. They're laughing, leaning into each other, and Steve is--he's happy. Elated. Could float away with it.

Robin--Robin-- is in the bathroom, or maybe in the kitchen for snacks, and it's just them for now. They're looking at each other, smiles wide, eyes bright.

They're taking it slow. Steve knows it's important, after what he did. They talked about it, his abandoning of Eddie for Nancy, chasing what his dad told him was normal and expected.

He doesn't want to cross any boundaries, wants to do this right. How Eddie deserves. But they're leaning into each other and they're smiling, and he's so in love. Intoxicated with it, lost.

In the end, he doesn't know who makes the first move, just that they're kissing and it's like coming home.

---

He's in a building, a shed or something. It's musty and dirty, smells like oil and gasoline and a building left closed up too long. Eddie's in his arms and he's talking through hiccuping sobs.

"I didn't save her, Steve. I didn't help. I just left her there! She was broken in pieces and I--I--"

Steve holds him close, tight, squeezes his eyes closed to stop his own tears from falling. He never wanted this for Eddie, never wanted him involved. Thought he could protect him from all of Hawkins's terrible things.

They aren't alone. Robin is there, coming up to hold Eddie too, plus a redheaded girl and curly haired boy he doesn't recognize.

"We'll figure this out, Eddie." The boy promises.

"We won't let anyone hurt you. We know you didn't murder Chrissy," the girl says.

---

Steve is in a world he doesn't understand, and Eddie is his arms. Eddie is in his arms, and there's blood everywhere. He's not awake, he's not--his heart beat is soft and slow, too slow, and his breathing stutters, and Steve can't--

"Baby, stay with me." He begs as he runs across the dead and rotting landscape. "Eddie, please. Wake up, okay? Wake up for me. I need to--I need to know that you're alright."

Eddie stays limp in his arms.

"Please," he begs. "You can't leave me. We promised, remember? We promised we'd be together forever. The rest of our lives. Me and You. Our six little nuggets. You promised."

The portal back to Hawkins is less than a dozen feet away, he's so close. Eddie gasps to consciousness, but his eyes are still hazy.

"Hi, sweetheart," he mumbles.

"Hey, hi, you're doing so good. We're almost out, okay? We're almost out and we'll get you to the hospital."

Eddie reaches out a weak hand, touches the edge of Steve's jaw. "Love you, Stevie," he whispers. "Glad you were mine."

He goes still in Steve's hold.

---

The images come faster now--

A hospital room at Hawkins General, Eddie hooked to machines. Steve holds hands with an older man. They wait in terrified silence

Eddie propped in a bed, a bunch of kids around him, Steve and Robin at his side. His eyes keep sliding to Steve, like he's making sure Steve's real, that he's still there

Their bodies tangled together in a bedroom Steve doesn't recognize

Steve down on one knee in a marble room lit only by black and red candles, Eddie standing in front of him

Hand-in-hand on a cliffside overlooking the ocean. The Chief of Police, Jim Hopper, stands in front of them with tears in his eyes and a beaming smile on his face

In a big, green yard behind a cozy little house. A little boy with Eddie's eyes and curls riding on his shoulders. Eddie sprinting around with a tiny girl giggling after him, perfect imitation of the King Steve hair-do on her tiny head

In a park, surrounded by family and friends. Steve has a little bit of a paunch and wears glasses. Eddie's hair streams around his shoulders, going grey at the temples. There's a banner strung between trees proclaiming 'Happy 20th Steve and Eddie!' They're surrounded by everyone they love and it's perfect

---

The images flash too fast for Steve to catalog after that, seconds-long glimpses of a shared future, and then he's back in his body in the hallway of Hawkins Middle, still holding too tight onto Eddie's arms.

Eddie rears back, face pale and terrified, and Steve is too shocked to do anything but let him go.

Tommy's yelling, but Steve only has eyes for his soulmate, who scrambles to his feet and throws himself down the hall away from them.

"What the hell, Harrington? Why'd you catch him? That was about to be funny as hell! I bet he'd have broken his nose--you ruined it!"

Steve isn't listening. He's trying to hold on to the memories of their life together, the ones that are already fading.

The last thing he remembers is that, sometime in the not-too-distant future, he'll find his way to the band room, Eddie Munson, and the rest of their lives.

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #ficlet #soulmate au #fluff #angst #angst with a happy ending #childhood sweethearts #canon divergent au #everyone lives/nobody dies #glimpses of the future #getting together #break up #getting back together #first kiss #brief stancy #platonic stobin

[meltedredweasels]

I kinda want a soulmate AU where on your eighteenth birthday your soulmates last name appears somewhere on your body

But in this universe Steve gets adopted by Hopper and changes his last name after high school

On his eighteenth birthday Eddie finds Hopper written on his neck and is so confused because the only Hoppers he knows are, the chief of police (who’s almost busted him for drug dealing multiple times not to mention several years older) and his daughter (who is much younger and definitely not his type (guys))

Steve has Munson written on his hip and he knows it’s probably Eddie but he doesn’t bring it up because Eddie probably hates him for who he was in high school

Then one night post Vecna they’re in the back of Eddie’s van out by the quarry and they get on the subject of soulmarks and Eddie asks about Steve’s

(Because he’s been slowly falling in love the last few months and even though it won’t be his name on Steve he still needs to know who the lucky person who has Steve as a soulmate is)

And Steve goes quiet

Eddie’s just about to start apologizing and backtracking when Steve pulls up the hem of his shirt

Munson

Right on his hip in deep red letters

Eddie just stares trying not to let his feelings show

“What’s the matter”

Unable to come up with words Eddie moves his own hair and twists his neck to show Steve his soulmark

“Oookay, why is this a problem?”

Finally Eddie can’t take it anymore

“Because it’s Hopper and not Harrington! Because the only Hoppers I know are the chief and El, and it’s definitely not either of them! Because I wanted it to be you! Because I love you!”

By now Eddie’s full on crying and Steve’s comfort instincts take over and he pulls him onto his lap rocking him back and forth until his sobs dissolve into hiccups

“Would this be a good time to tell you that Hop adopted me and my last name is no longer Harrington?”

#steve harrington #stranger things #eddie munson #steddie #hopper adopts steve #soulmate au #stranger things au #this was supposed to be like three sentences #once I started writing I couldn’t stop #might add more later #who knows #Steve Hopper

[unfinishedslurs]

gay bar (steddie)

“Well, well, well,” says a voice from behind. “Steeeeeeve Harrington. I must be dreaming.”

Steve turns around to see a guy, dressed in black and chains. Rings decorating his fingers, studs in his ears, curly hair pulled back in a ponytail. He’s hot, yeah, but something about him has Steve squinting, trying to figure out why he looks so familiar. 

“I know you from somewhere,” he says, pointing out the obvious. The guy knows his name.

The not-a-stranger snorts. “Of course you don’t remember me. Why would the likes of King Steve stoop to—“

As soon as the nickname leaves his mouth, Steve’s brain lights up. “Munson!” He exclaims, snapping his fingers. “You used to climb on the lunch tables to give speeches.”

It was so obnoxious, too. The kind of thing that had him and Robin reminiscing late at night, celebrating some of the weirder shit about Hawkins that didn’t come from monsters, or Russians, or government conspiracy. Remember that one asshole? Yeah, he stepped on my lunch one time!

Condolences to Robin’s pb&j. She never sat at that table again.

Munson’s whole face turns pink. “Seriously? That’s what you remember?”

“It was pretty fucking memorable, dude. Like, gross, doesn’t this guy know not to put his feet where people eat? Dustin thought you were so cool for it too. I had to nip that in the bud before he started imitating you or some shit.”

“Oh,” he says, voice gone flat. “Because God forbid some poor kid try to immolate the freak.”

Steve gives him his bitchiest, most deadpan stare. “Feet,” he says slowly. “Nasty, fifteen year old boy feet. On my kitchen table. He almost slipped and cracked his skull, and I would have sent you the hospital bill.”

He had to get creative to make him stop, too. Stood there, hands on his hips, and made Dustin tell him exactly how many germs he thought were on his shoes. Then when he tried to do it barefoot, decided the only course of action was to stuff Dustin’s abandoned sock in his mouth and ask if he wanted that shit with every meal. Erica still has the photos. 

Munson has the decency to look embarrassed, face flooding an even brighter red that wouldn’t be out of place in a tomato patch. “What are you even doing here, Harrington?”

What does he think Steve’s doing here? It’s a fucking gay bar, it’s pretty self explanatory. “My friend is here somewhere,” he says, waving out at the crowd of people. “She’s going through a dry spell, so…”

“Right,” Munson says. Steve squints at him. Does he look disappointed?

Eh. Doesn’t matter. 

“You gave my kids the best freshman year of their nerdy little lives,” he tells him, because he knows Dustin would want him to. Plus, the guy was Mike’s gay awakening. He should probably get some credit. “So thanks for that.”

He lights up. “Yeah! How was Hellfire in my absence?”

“I had to hear them bitch and moan for months about how it ‘wasn’t the same,’ but it’s doing pretty all right. Erica Sinclair is running it now.”

“Erica Sinclair…” Munson mutters, snapping his fingers. “Lucas Sinclair’s little sister? Lady Applejack?” He beams when Steve nods. “She kicked ass. Best finish to a campaign my entire high school career. How’s Lucas, anyway? And the rest of the runts.”

“He’s doing great,” Steve says. “College basketball at Yale. Pretty sure he’s dying under the workload, but that’s what you get for majoring in physics. Dustin’s at MIT, and Mike’s taking a gap year.”

He whistles lowly. “Yeesh, I don’t blame him. How about Byers?”

“Which one?”

“Zombie boy.” Steve’s hackles raise, but Munson just grins. “God, that nickname was badass.”

“How do you even know about that?”

Munson taps the side of his nose. “A magician never reveals his secrets. Besides, all it took for you to remember me was calling you by your high school nickname.”

“That wasn’t my nickname.” Steve rolls his eyes. “Literally three people ever actually called me that, and you were one of them.”

He has a feeling it was Tommy who started it, bitter and vicious. Told himself Steve was self possessed, high and mighty, above it all. That’s why he left his old friends behind. Not because he was in love, or because he wanted to be better. No, King Steve just sits alone in his castle, looking down on the peasants with contempt. 

Billy must have taken his angry ramblings and run with them. After all, what better way to get a start in a new town than declaring yourself royalty? Never mind that Steve hadn’t cared about anything like that for almost a year by then. 

Munson had just been a drama-loving asshole. 

“That can’t be right.”

“I stopped being popular in junior year. Why the hell would anyone call a sophomore King?” Steve points out. 

“You were Prom King.”

“Again, in junior year. Pickings were slim. Who else would it have been? Tommy?” He has to laugh. 

Luckily, Munson takes the hint and swerves the conversation into new territory. “You know, I always figured you’d be homophobic.”

Steve snorts. “What, and get kicked out for nothing?”

Munson stares at him, and Steve furrows his brow, looking into his glass like it will have the answer to why the hell he said that to this guy he barely knows. He just decided he wasn’t going to spill all his daddy issues to a near-stranger in a dingy bar, dammit. Is he already on his fifth drink?

Actually, this might be his sixth. That tracks. 

“What?”

“My dad caught me kissing a boy,” he says. If he’s going to give Munson his life story, he might as well commit. “Can you believe that boy ruined my life in three different ways? Two of them didn’t even have anything to do with the gay thing.” 

Maybe four ways, if you accounted for the way he broke his goddamn heart, but everyone and their mother saw that coming a mile away. Even Steve. Especially Steve. 

No offense to Jonathan. None of those things were really his fault. Or actually life ruining, but it sure fucking felt like it at the time. 

He should give him a call soon, actually, see how he and Argyle are doing. He misses the guy. Maybe he and Robin should save up for a visit to Cali. Get Nancy on it. They could see San Francisco while they were there, that’d be cool. Apparently it was the queer capital of the country. 

He’s thinking about asking the bartender for a napkin and a pen to write down the plans he’s forming when Munson speaks up again. Steve honestly forgot he was here. 

“I thought you said you were here for a friend.”

What?” Steve blinks, confused, and then catches on. “Yeah, to get her laid. I’m not in the mood right now.”

Munson cocks an eyebrow. “Wearing that? Could’ve fooled me.”

Steve looks down at his Springsteen T-Shirt that Robin cropped, and picks at the frayed hem of his shorts. Okay, yeah, they’re on the skimpy side, but in his defense it’s summer and even if he’s not cruising Steve likes being looked at. “Yeah, yeah. What about you? Here for anything in particular?”

“Just to talk to some pretty boys,” Munson says, leaning on the bar to flag down the bartender. Steve smirks, reaching out a hand to tug at the hanky in his back pocket. Pinned, damn. 

Munson whirls around, a flush starting to crawl onto his ears. 

“Wearing that?” Steve echos snarkily. “Could’ve fooled me.”

He swears that for a minute Munson’s eyes darken. 

He’s almost tempted to follow through, high school reputation be damned, when someone crashes into his side and nearly sends him careening. 

“Steeeeeve,” Robin yells happily into his ear. “This is Bernie, she’s gonna take me home, see you la—oh, hi!” She says, noticing Munson. “I know you from somewhere.”

“Eddie Munson,” Munson greets. “Steve and I went to high school together.”

“Munson! That’s it, you climbed on tables and had shit music. I’m Robin. Okay, I’ll call the apartment and leave a message when we get there. Bernie’s waiting on me, it’s-nice-to-meet-you-bye!” Just like that, she’s gone. 

Munson’s mouth has dropped open. “You told her I had shit music?” He demands. “Wait, you talked about me?”

“She went to school with us, dumbass,” he says, as if he can talk. He still barely remembers her as more than a vague, glowering figure in his peripheral. “It’s not my fault you blasted your screamy music for everyone in the parking lot. Such a fucking headache, God.”

Munson turns his nose up. “Sorry for having offended your jock sensibilities.”

“Oh, I don’t play anymore,” he says, and knocks on his head. “Concussions, yanno. Apparently brain damage will fuck you up. Who knew?”

“What, like the fight you had with Byers? He did you that bad?”

“He did me just fine,” Steve blurts out, before he can stop himself. Munson chokes. “Shit, sorry, I’m kind of a horny drunk.” Weird thing to say, Steve. “Also, I cannot stress enough how much I needed to be punched in the face. It was a monumental moment for me, you know. Started me on the path for changing my entire worldview. Plus, he was my first guy crush.” He swirls his empty glass, lost in thought, before brightening up. “I should call him!”

Munson is staring at him, mouth opening and closing like a fish. 

“What?”

“You’re drunk.”

“Well, yeah. Duh.”

“I should probably stop you from booty-calling the guy who punched you in the face.”

Steve wrinkles his nose. “It wouldn’t be a booty-call,” he says. “He and Argyle are happy together, man. I’m not gonna ruin that.”

“Oh, so you’d call him because…”

“I call him all the time,” Steve says, confused as to why this is such a big deal. “We’re friends.”

“Jonathan!” He yells happily into the pay phone. Munson is standing to the side, looking on in annoyance. Whatever, it’s not like Steve asked him to do this. “Jonathan, man, how are you?”

“…Steve?”

“Yeah!”

“It’s like…” he hears something clatter in the background, like Jonathan is looking for something, “two in the morning there. You okay?”

“I’m doing great!” He exclaims. “How about you? It’s been ages, man, I miss you.”

“This is so fucking weird,” Munson whispers behind him. Steve ignores him. 

“Are you drunk?”

“No,” he says. “Well, maybe a little. Do you not miss me too?” He pouts, and Jonathan sighs loud enough he hears it over the phone. 

“I just talked to you yesterday.”

Steve frowns. “Yesterday? That can’t be right, it’s been, like, forever. Oh, hey, have you heard from Nance lately? How’s your mom? I love your mom, she’s so fucking cool. Does she know I think she’s cool? How’s Will? It’s been so long, is he taller than me yet? How’s Argyle doing with his degree? I miss you guys.”

“We miss you too, Steve.”

“Awww, Byers, getting soppy on me? Gross, man.”

“You literally just—yeah, okay. Are you alone?”

“Nah, I’ve got this guy with me, he’s walking me home. Oh! Dude, do you remember Munson?”

“Munson?”

“Yeah, Eddie Munson! From high school! The one who used to climb on tables and shit, remember him?”

“Jesus Christ,” Munson groans. “Please let that die.”

“No one is dying,” Steve informs him seriously, and turns back to the phone. Munson sighs. 

“Wasn’t he a drug dealer?”

“Yes! Yeah, drug dealer Munson! Did you ever buy from him?” He turns to where Munson is looking around furtively. “Did Jonathan ever buy from you?”

“How about we not talk about this here,” Munson says through gritted teeth. Steve sighs and turns back to the phone. 

“Never mind, he says he doesn’t want to talk about that. Not like we can judge him, but whatever. Maybe the guy’s turned into a prude—“

“Okay, give me that.” Munson wrestles the phone out of his hand, and Steve whines at him. “Hey, Byers,” Munson says. “Yeah, it’s Eddie. Or Munson. Whatever. Listen, I’m getting kind of sick of standing here watching Harrington slobber all over the receiver, can he call you tomorrow? What? No, I don’t sell anymore—yeah, total bummer, whatever. Listen, I’ll get him home safe—no, I’m not going to serial murder him. He’s gonna be fine, he’ll call you tomorrow—Nancy Wheeler? Like that girl he dated? Didn’t you—shoot me? Jesus, okay! I’m not gonna kill the guy, Christ. He’s gonna be fine, oh my God. He’ll call you tomorrow. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Yeah, okay. Bye.” He slams the phone into its holder with more than a little contempt. 

“Hey!” Steve protests. “You didn’t let me say bye.”

“You can call him tomorrow and apologize,” Munson says. “Now c’mon, Harrington. I’ve been tasked with getting you home safe, and if I fail, apparently Nancy fucking Wheeler is going to shoot me in the balls.”

“Oh, yeah, she’s really hot when she does that,” Steve says fondly, and Munson splutters. 

“What, does Wheeler just go around shooting people? Does she even have a gun?”

“Of course Nancy has a gun.” Steve frowns. It was one of the sure things in the universe at this point. The sky is blue, Hawkins is fucked up, and Nancy Wheeler has a gun. “And she doesn’t shoot people, stupid. Well, she shot at Billy, but he deserved it.”

“Billy?” Munson mutters, starting to usher Steve in the direction of home. “Who the fuck is Billy?”

“He was trying to kill her first!” Steve defends. “I hit him with a car before he could, so she was okay.”

“Okay, yeah, sure. Why wouldn’t you hit some guy with a car? 

“It wasn’t some guy,” Steve says. “It was Billy. He was, like, possessed or some shit. Oh, and he beat me up. Total psycho.  And that was before the melted flesh monster.”

Munson stops and stares at him. “You know what, sure. Demonic possession. Yeah, okay. Some guy named Billy kicked your ass—wait, are you talking about Billy Hargrove?”

Steve lights up. “Yeah! You remember that? That’s one of the concussions I was talking about. I gotta wear glasses 'cuza that shit. Man, fuck that guy.”

“Didn’t he die?”

“Oh, yeah,” Steve frowns down at the ground. “Shit, I’m, like, speaking ill of the dead, aren’t I? Max wouldn't like that. Unfuck him, or whatever.”

“You wanna come up?” He asks. “For old times sake?”

Munson stares at him like it’s the craziest thing he’s said all evening. “‘Old times’ was your asshole friends calling me a satan worshiper and pushing me around in hallways, Harrington.”

“I know.” He grins. If he was sober he’d definitely feel worse about that, but as it is he’s pretty single minded. “Don't you kind of want to make me cry about it?”

Deer in headlights isn’t usually a good look, but Munson’s got the eyes to make it work. Or Steve is drunk. Either way, it’s kinda cute. 

“You’re drunk,” he finally says, stumbling over the words a little. If Steve pays close attention and ignores most of reality, it almost sounds like he’s trying to convince both of them. “You’re so incredibly drunk.”

“I’m not that drunk.” He totally is. 

“I just had to supervise you calling Jonathan Byers so you didn’t say something you’d regret in the morning.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Steve asks, offended. “I love Jonathan! I tell him all the time. Just because I said he ruined my life—“

“That was him?”

“Did I not say that? Huh. Whatever. Point is, I’m not that drunk.”

“You’re definitely drunk,” Munson says. “I’m not—yeah, no. I’m not coming up.”

“Damn.” Steve shrugs, not too put out about it. It’s a bummer, sure, but he handles rejection like a champ. Just ask Robin. “Worth a shot. See you ‘round, Munson.”

“Don’t kill me,” Steve says. 

“Oh, god, did you punch him?”

“No, I, uh.” Steve rubs the bridge of his nose. “I think I tried to fuck him.”

He has to hold the phone away from his face so Dustin’s screeching doesn’t break his eardrums. 

“Your exes are weirdly protective of you,” Munson says blandly. “Also, didn’t they date?”

“Yeah,” Steve shrugs, not exactly eager to start spilling his life story again now that he’s sober. Munson doesn’t need to know more about his dating history than he already does. “We’re all a little weird about each other, sorry.”

“Weird about your exes,” he hums. “No wonder you’re single.”

“Oh, fuck you. It’s not like that.”

He raises an eyebrow. “No?”

“Are you always this nosy?” Steve asks, a little waspish. 

“Absolutely,” Munson replies without hesitation. “I’d say sorry, but I’m not. When did you even date him?”

“Dude.”

Munson just cocks an expectant eyebrow, hip resting against the bar. He can’t imagine why someone would be so interested in the romantic lives of their old high school classmates. It’s not like Steve is about to ask what was going on between him and Chrissy Cunningham. 

“Well, Harrington?”

“First grade,” Steve answers, deadpan. He grins when Munson chokes. “Nah, it was actually after he and Nancy broke up. Fall of ‘86.”

Arms squeeze him from behind, and Robin slides into view, leaving one hand wrapped pointedly around Steve’s waist. She gets clingy when she thinks someone is bothering him, or when she’s just on the side of drunk that she gets possessive. She told him, embarrassed and hungover, that it’s because she registers someone he’s getting along with as infringing on “her Steve time.” Steve thinks it’s hilarious and kind of sweet, an obvious lesbian trying to pretend he’s her date. Especially because he gets the same way when he’s tipsy and feels like he doesn’t have enough of her attention, so she can't yell at him for being a cockblock. Cuntblock. Whatever the lesbians call it.

He wonders what category she thinks Eddie is. Of guy, that is. Not block-anything.

He'd actually be pretty damn happy if the guy miraculously changed his mind and decided to sit on his cock instead.

“What’s going on here?” She asks, almost cattily. He loves when Robin gets bitchy. It brings him back to their Scoops days, except he gets to see it turned on someone else. 

“I’m telling Eddie my life story,” Steve says blithely.

“Ugh. Who would want that?”

Eddie grins. “I’m curious about the adventures of a former king.” He dips his head in a bow, waving his hand in a flourish. “I don’t know if you remember me from last time, I’m Eddie—“

“Munson, I know. You stepped on my lunch in junior year.”

Eddie turns beet red in record time. 

“Aww, Robbie,” Steve almost coos. “Leave him alone. I wanted to be the one who made him blush like that.”

“It’s not my fault your boy’s easy.”

“Not my boy, clearly,” he mutters under his breath. “And if he were easy, I’d have gotten fucked by now.”

Eddie’s mouth drops open with a choked little sound. Whoops. Steve forgot volume control again. 

Robin takes one look at Eddie’s face and bursts into cackles. 

“He was asking about,” he waved a hand in the air, “the whole Nancy-Jonathan thing.”

Her eyebrows jut up. “You told him about the threesome?”

“The what?”

Steve sighs. “No, Robin. I did not tell him about the threesome.”

“…oops.”

“When?” Eddie demands. 

Robin gives him the evil eye. “Why are you being weird about this? It’s not gonna make him fuck you.”

Steve wisely keeps his mouth shut. 

Eddie does not. “Your boy here already asked,” he smirks, leaning closer. “I said no.”

Then, as an added punch to his ego, he twirls a strand of Steve’s hair around his finger and tugs slightly. Steve’s too stunned to protest. 

Robin watches the exchange. “Oh, no thank you,” she says. “Nope. I’m out. I don’t want to see whatever this is. Ugh, stop making me hear about your sex life.”

Hypocrite. “We have thin walls, Buckley,” Steve reminds her. He turns to Eddie and stage whispers, “She likes her girls loud.”

“Steve!”

“You do!”

“Oh, because you’re so quiet,” she snaps, smacking him. “How many times have I had to bang on the wall because you couldn’t keep it down? You wanna talk about loud? I know more about you than I ever wanted to.”

His mouth drops open in mortification. “You know it’s rude to be mean to the man who told you how to eat out,” he hisses. 

“I’m not dying without fucking Eddie Munson,” he declares. “I mean, his high school nickname was literally ‘The Freak.’ He’s got to be good in bed, right?”

“I think that was mostly because everyone thought he was communing with the Devil or something.”

“Maybe the Devil gave him sex magic.”

“Of course he thinks I’m cute.”

“I do?”

“Do you not?” Steve turns to him, widening his eyes in the same pout that always has Robin throwing something at his face, or the kids reluctantly agreeing to do what he wants. He’s found it’s useful for guys too, especially if he ducks his head to seem smaller and looks through his eyelashes. Makes them imagine him looking like that on his knees. 

Munson is no exception. He melts faster than Steve can say gotcha. “You’re very cute, Harrington,” he purrs, and Robin snorts into her drink. 

“You’re a weak, weak man, Eddie Munson,” she tells a blushing Eddie. Then she kicks Steve. “Stop bringing out the ‘fuck me’ eyes when I’m around, I’ll gag.”

“You could leave.”

She gasps, affronted, and kicks him harder.

“So you would fuck me if I wasn’t drunk?”

“Uh…” he looks everywhere but Steve’s face, which is just rude. He has a very nice face. He’s been called dreamy before. 

Which made Robin laugh so hard she fell off the couch when he told her, but he’ll take the lesbian’s opinion with a grain of salt. 

He makes his way onto the dance floor. He’s not a particularly good dancer, but he shakes his ass like he means it. Gets up close with a guy, stares at Eddie the whole time. Keeping eye contact as the guy puts his hands on his hips. 

Look, he means to say. This could be you. You could lose your chance if you’re not careful. 

From the burning in Eddie’s eyes, he gets the message. 

The message is a bunch of bullshit. It’s been over four months, he’s in too deep to go fuck off with someone else now. Still, he enjoys the way Eddie’s hands flex on his thighs, like he had to stop himself from reaching out. 

The thing is, Steve’s not an asshole. He can take a hint. No means no, and all that jazz. If Eddie really didn’t want him, he’d fuck right off and find someone who did. He even started to.

Except Eddie pouted up a storm when he flirted with someone else. Got even clingier when Steve tried to back off. At this point, he’s accepted that Eddie does want to fuck him, and maybe even be more (no one flirts with someone as long as they’ve been doing without wanting something like a relationship out of it. At least, he hopes there’s something more on the horizon), but has some weird hang up about Steve being even a little bit buzzed when it happens. Even though they only ever see each other at this fucking bar.

The problem is Steve has no idea when Eddie will be at the bar. He’ll stay sober one night, hoping to see him, and then go home alone only for next time to be when he sees telltale curls and a wide smile. It’s driving him up the wall. 

Robin has been similarly affected.

“It’s been six months,” she growls as Steve looks eagerly around. “Six fucking months of you two dancing around in the worlds most annoying mating ritual. I’m going to kill both of you.”

“We’re not that bad,” he says absently. 

“You don’t even have his phone number. It’s pathetic. I swear to God, if you see him again and don’t get laid I’m reviving the scoops board. I will go out and buy a whiteboard to keep track of all the times you strike out with a man who used to walk on tables. He stepped on my lunch, Steve. Do I need to keep bringing up the fact he stepped on my delicious, nutritious PB&J? I can’t believe that’s the guy you decide to be obsessed with, that’s so fucking embarrassing for you.”

“Embarrassing? You mean like your crush on my ex girlfriend?”

She screeches wordlessly, pulling her keychain off her belt loop and attacking him with it. 

Naturally, that’s how Eddie finds them. 

“I swear you guys get weirder every time I see you.”

Steve grins guilelessly at him, holding a flailing Robin in a headlock. 

“Eddie! Hey! It’s been a minute.” He hasn’t been able to come in a month, and it’s been longer since he’s seen him. It’s honestly one of the deciding factors on whether it’s a passing fancy or a full blown crush. He still went to sleep every night thinking about Eddie. It didn’t even have to be about sex. 

Although maybe not sleeping with anyone else for half a year should have tipped him off sooner. 

“Sure has, big boy. I was starting to think you were getting sick of me.” It’s a joke, but Steve catches an undercurrent of insecurity. 

“That’d make my life easier,” Robin snorts. She finally wiggles her way out of his hold. “I saw Arty somewhere around here, I’m gonna see if I can crash at her place tonight.” She levels Eddie with a look. “He hasn’t had anything to drink. If you don’t put him out of his misery, I will. And it won’t be the good kind. It will be the bad kind. With bad screams. Lots of screaming, and someone will call the pigs, and I’ll be arrested and jailed for life. Do you want me to go to jail, Munson?”

Eddie shakes his head dumbly. 

“Good! Then do something about it.” She slaps Steve’s back, a mocking echo of his jock days. “Go get ‘em, slugger!” 

With that, she’s gone, disappearing into the crowd. 

“She is,” Steve remarks with amusement, “the worst wingman on planet Earth. Mars too, probably.”

“I dunno, I think it might be working.”

“I’m not doing anything without a condom,” he says, eyes narrowed like he’s waiting for an argument. 

“Me neither,” Steve agrees. “Robin has, like, this big fear of diseases. Totally got me with it. She pulled out the library books, those pictures were fucking disgusting. Shit showed up in my dreams, man. Neither of us do anything without protection.”

“I’m going to be totally honest with you, because I haven’t been and it’s starting to eat at me,” Eddie says, hovering above Steve. 

Steve wrinkles his nose. “What is it? Are you a spy or something? Are you Russian? Do you have superpowers? Is your name not actually Eddie?” He pauses. “Oh, God, you’re not even Eddie Munson, are you? I’m just some asshole who’s been calling you by my old classmates name and you were too embarrassed to correct me. Shit, we made so much fun of you for walking on tables too—“

“What?” Eddie covers his mouth, expression hovering between amused and baffled. “What the fuck, why would I go along with that? No, Jesus, I’m Eddie Munson. Moved to Hawkins when I was eleven, took senior year three times, walked on the fucking tables, could you let that go?” He moves the hand covering Steve’s mouth to play with his hair, looking annoyed for a minute before it smoothes to trepidation. “No, I, uh, I just felt like I needed to tell you that I used to have a hate-boner for you in high school. Like, I used to jack it to the thought of kicking your ass and making a mess outta you. In more ways than one.”

Steve stares. 

“Also, that’s kind of why I approached you in the bar in the first place,” Eddie blabbers on. “And then you said you were just there for a friend, and I was disappointed but it’s whatever, yanno? And then then you told me about your dad, and threw my expectations to the fucking wolves, and then you asked me to come up to your apartment except you were drunk and you probably didn’t mean it. But then the next time I saw you, you kept flirting with me, which you were not supposed to do, and I kept pretending that wasn’t the reason I even talked to you in the first place, and, uh, yeah.” He smiles nervously. “Surprise?”

“I mean, not really.”

“You’re such an asshole, fuck off. At least pretend to be shocked.”

“It’s not my fault you stare at my legs all the time,” Steve says, affronted. “I know I didn’t do too good in school, but I’m not dumb enough to miss that. Like, hello, my eyes are up here.”

Eddie lets his arms give out, flopping on top of Steve heavily. Steve wheezes. “Am I really that obvious?” He whines into his shoulder. 

“You got sad and pouty when I even looked at another guy.”

“You could’ve fucked him,” he mumbles. “The guy you were dancing with. It wasn’t any of my business. I’m a big boy, I can deal.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t want to fuck him,” Steve says. “I wanted to fuck you. Can we go back to that please?”

“Thought I was fucking you.”

“Someone’s getting fucked or Robin will kill both of us. I’d like to live tomorrow morning. And not have to deal with any more of her teasing for having no game.”

“You have unfortunate amounts of game,” Eddie sighs, tracing the side of Steve’s neck. It tickles. “It’s kind of embarrassing for me.”

“Yeah, yeah, are we using those condoms or not, Moodkiller?”

“Oh, I’m the mood killer?”

“Yes,” Steve says matter of factly, and pulls him in for a kiss before he can protest.

#gay bar au #steddie #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson #steve harrington #robin buckley #featuring robin as the worlds worst wingman #i'm never not going to bully eddie for walking on those tables #'why does everyone here hate me🥺' mf it's bc you keep putting ur nasty ass shoes where people eat #i've said it before and i'll say it again. someone should have yanked on his leg and made him faceplant. he would have deserved it #we stay billy bashing 💪 #in this au the byers didn't move to california #jonathan still goes to school there tho #why? bc he and argyle are soulmates and time and space moved for them to make sense next question #i need u to know eddie does not have sex magic and steve isn't actually as smooth as eddie thinks. they r just obsessed with each other #that one person who was in my notes truthing ab a stoncy threesome. i was excited when i saw that bc i had this written hope u see it <3

[strangersatellites]

i’m not the biggest fan of soulmark au’s but hear me out.

au where your soulmate’s signature shows up on your hip on your sixteenth birthday.

most people are able to either read theirs clearly, or decipher what it says and then set off on a search for their other half.

when steve turns sixteen he’s anxiously awaiting his own when he’s met with the sight of a bat on his hip.

he spends years looking for a connection, something that might give him a clue.

it’s not until several years later when he moves away from home that he sees the bat.

he sees it scrawled across the bottom of a beautiful mural in the city and realizes his soulmate is an artist.

and an anonymous one at that.

#steddie #i’m sure there’s something here #but i don’t have the brain capacity to write it #so if someone else feels so led #have at her #i just had this vision come to me and needed to get it out there #steddie soulmate au

[brbsoulnomming]

Tell Me Sweet Little Lies Part 9

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | AO3

-----

Eddie's not sure how long he's been sitting there when the sound of footsteps approaching breaks through, and he hears Steve's quiet little, "hey."

"They pick you to go check on the new guy, make sure I'm not freaking out?" Eddie asks without looking up.

"Are you freaking out?"

Eddie doesn't know. He's not sure why it's this, of all things, that has made him need to step back - he likes to think he's been handling all this Upside Down shit pretty damn well so far, aside from the running and cursing and panicking. It doesn't make sense that this is the thing that finally makes the buzzing in his chest grow too loud.

"Thank you," he says instead of answering. "You didn't - you didn't have to do that."

He thinks Steve might point out that yeah, he kind of did, that they have a world to save and they can't do that if the noble minded citizens of Hawkins are determined to hunt down a party member and thwart their efforts.

"I know," Steve says instead, and that makes Eddie look up at him.

Steve shrugs one shoulder. "None of us have to do any of this, you know? There's like, a hundred moments that every one of us could have said nah, fuck this. But we all chose to be in this, to keep going."

"Not me," Eddie says, even as his brain is telling him to shut the hell up and let the cute boy keep saying us like Eddie chose to be a part of this. Like he isn't a coward riding on all of their coattails. "I run, Steve, that's what I do. You think if I had any real choice, if I had anywhere else to go, I wouldn't be gone already?"

Steve wrinkles his nose at him. "What was it that you said Dustin was asking you to do? Come with us to Mordor? Pretty sure I heard you say yes."

"Yeah, because the Shire was burning!" he says. "Not exactly a great choice, to stay with the Hobbits and burn or follow the Fellowship into Mordor."

Steve gives him a crooked smile and a steely little gaze. "No one stays in a burning building, Eds, that's not a real comparison."

His throat works as he tries to swallow without swallowing his tongue, and he tries very hard to focus on what Steve is saying and not on exactly how Eds makes him feel.

"There's three kinds of people when somewhere's burning - there's the ones that started it, the ones trying to stop it, and the ones getting as far away from the first two as possible. You had plenty of options to be the last, but you picked the second."

"What options?" he demands, aware that he's sounding a little hysterical. "No car, no money, no where to go, cops and crazy townies looking for me, what else was I supposed to do?"

Steve rolls his eyes. "Yeah, sure, fine, when you were alone. But then you had us. You could have asked us to call your uncle to bail you out, you could have asked to be dropped off out of town, hell, you could have stolen the camper and said all right, this is your stop, see you guys later."

Eddie rears back, stung. "You think I'd do that? That I'd just take the camper and leave you guys all to it?"

Steve throws up his hands, exasperated, and Eddie feels a flare of concern when he notices the way Steve's eyes tighten in pain before he lowers them down.

"No!" Steve protests before Eddie can say anything about it. "Of course I don't, that's exactly my point! You could have left us, but you didn't. You made that choice."

Eddie's jaw snaps shut with an audible click as he realizes that he can't protest both things - can't insist that of course he never would have left them and say that he'd be gone if he had any real choice in the matter.

"Fuck you, Harrington," he says instead, aware that he sounds mulish and defensive but unable to stop himself. "It doesn't really count as options if all of them are bad."

Steve looks at him, unimpressed. "Now you're just moving the goalposts."

It's Eddie's turn to roll his eyes at that. "Stop making everything about sports."

"I will when you all stop making everything about Dungeons and Dragons," he replies without missing a beat, then drops down to sit next to him. "Give yourself a break. You're not the only one who's ever run."

Eddie snorts. "Yeah? Who?"

"Me."

Eddie turns sharply, but Steve isn't looking at him, staring out into the woods instead.

"You?" Eddie demands. "Mister I have to be the one to jump in the creepy lake to find the gate to hell for nonsense reasons?"

"They weren't nonsense," Steve protests. "And yeah, come on. I know you thought I was a douchebag before all of this, how are you surprised?"

"I never said douchebag," Eddie mutters, as if that's the point.

"I was a douchebag. So yeah, I ran." He pushes his hand through his hair. "I went to Jonathan's, when he and Nancy were trying to lure a demogorgon in to take it out. Had no idea what the fuck was going on, only that there were weapons everywhere and they were both bleeding and Nance pointed a gun at me. One of those things showed up, and they freaked, and I freaked, and they told me to get the hell out, and I did."

Eddie can't stop staring at him, and Steve has to notice, but he just keeps looking out into the woods.

"Made it as far as my car, freaking out so bad I dropped my keys, and then I looked back at the house and saw the lights flashing and I knew they were both in there, and…"

He trails off.

"And the paladin was born," Eddie murmurs.

That makes Steve look at him, finally, brows furrowed. "Come on, man, no. Dustin's been trying that, he says he's still got a sheet for one of them all worked up for me. I'm not playing any time soon."

Eddie waves a hand. "Not a character, Steve, I'm talking about real life. You're a real life paladin."

Steve lets out a little huff. "Whatever. The point is, I ran the first time, too. And I ran after - I tried to put it all behind me, to pretend like it was over and done with and we could just move on. It wasn't until later that I realized I wasn't ever going to be able to just step aside." He gives a wry little laugh, a roll of his eyes. "Not when this crew's determined to never stay on the bench."

"So you just. Always put yourself between danger and whoever it's coming for?"

Steve frowns at him. "Well, yeah. Someone's gotta protect all these little shits when they go barreling into trouble, and as long as I have a say in it, that someone's gonna be me."

Eddie groans. "You're making it really hard for me not to point out the paladin similarities, Harrington."

"Shut up," Steve says, giving him a little shove, but he doesn't sound like he actually minds it. "I'm not a - whatever."

"No? You're not a white knight, charging into battle to protect women and children and one dumbass freak in the wrong place at the wrong time?" Eddie drops out of his crouch, landing with his ass on the grass as he leans back to bat his eyelashes at Steve. "Come on, Steve, take a little credit for being our hero, you know you want to."

"You're so ridiculous." Steve rolls his eyes. "It's just better me than them."

And Eddie - he's not sure he likes that. Robin's he does this every time echoes in his mind, and his eyes narrow as he searches Steve's expression. "Fuck, is this some self sacrificial bullshit? Do you just have a death wish?"

"It's not like that. Trust me, I'm not looking to sacrifice myself, and I'm really not eager to kick the bucket before I'm twenty. It's just…"

There's no sting of writing on his skin. Eddie chooses to believe that means it's not a lie, for the sake of his own sanity, and he stays quiet while he lets Steve figure out how to explain what it's just.

"It's just when you're making a play, you have to be tactical about it, right? You have to think about your opposition, know what the other team's bringing to the game. You have to take everyone on your team into account - what are their skills and strong points, what are their weaknesses, who do you play together so they cover each other. I know what my strengths are. I know what I bring into this team and what I don't, and right now? I'm our heavy-hitter. I can dish it out, and I can take a hit better than anyone else here."

He does this every time.

Eddie wants to protest, to demand to know why it always has to be Steve, but he remembers the quiet resignation in Robin's voice, and he gets the feeling it's a conversation they've already had. Not that that would necessarily stop him from repeating it, of course, but - he doesn't really know how to counter that. Steve hadn't sounded self depreciating, hadn't sounded like he thinks he's worth less than everyone else here - though Eddie's not sure that isn't mixed in there, somewhere. He'd just… sounded practical.

Strategy. No different from when he was captain of whatever the hell sport he was playing at the time, this is what I'm good at, this is what I do.

"You're good at this, aren't you?" Eddie asks slowly.

Steve quirks a wry smile. "Good at getting beat up and still going? Yeah, I've had some practice."

Eddie shakes his head. "No, good at this. Strategizing. Thinking about people's strengths and weaknesses and how to make them work together."

"Oh. I mean, yeah, I guess I'm okay? Not strategizing like-" He waves a hand at the other side of the camper, back where Eddie assumes everyone else is still moving forward with things. "But I've always been good at the people thing. Rob likes to remind me of that, tells me to use it for good."

Like today. Eddie's throat clicks as he swallows, looking at Steve. "What would you do, against Vecna?"

Steve looks thrown, like he has no idea how this conversation got here and what he's supposed to do with it now.

Eddie knows the feeling.

"We already did the only thing I wanted to add to it," Steve says.

"Not add," Eddie says. "Forget our current plan, okay? Clean slate. New, uh. New play, new game, same opponent."

Part of Eddie wants to die a little at the words that just came out of his mouth. The bigger part wants to die even more at the begrudging realization that they could fit a campaign just as easily as they could a sports game.

But the biggest part wants to see where this is going. Wants to poke and prod at Steve, to make him think in a way that it sounds like everyone in this party except Robin has been overlooking.

It's one of his favorite things about DMing. Watching what his players come up with, nudging and encouraging them, and being absolutely gobsmacked by their creativity and strategy.

Steve actually looks like he's considering it, like he's not just brushing Eddie off. "I'd still do Nance's plan," he says finally. Then, almost reluctantly, he adds, "But I'd wait."

"You'd wait?" Eddie prompts.

"Yeah. I'd stall as long as we could. I figure the longer it goes, the more desperate - or at least irritated - Vecna gets, maybe he'll slip up, make some mistakes. But mostly I'd stall as long as we could for El."

"Who's El?"

Steve smiles, bittersweet. "El's a great kid with too much on her shoulders. But in all this? She's our real heavy-hitter. She's major league, and I'm back playing t-ball."

Eddie leans forward, starting to see the shape of things. He can see why the little shits keep using D&D terminology to explain what's going on. It's a campaign, he reminds himself, and if he keeps thinking of it like that, it's not as terrifying. "How do you stall?"

"What? El doesn't even have her powers anymore!"

Eddie startles at the interruption, heart pounding and nerves on edge - out of the corner of his eye, he sees Steve do the same, hand jerking to the ground like he's reaching for a weapon he doesn't have.

"Don't do that!" Steve demands, even as he's already relaxing.

It's Henderson, Eddie knows that before he even turns to see that he and Robin have come around to their little side of the camper - he recognizes that tone exactly from their campaigns, when the little butthead is protesting another player's plan of action.

Eddie shoots him an icy, pointed glare - also exactly the same as he would do if someone had interrupted him in the middle of a session.

Dustin glances back and forth between them, withering at the combined force of both of their unimpressed expressions. "Not that I'm saying it's a bad idea. Just! I need a little more info here, okay?"

"It's not about her powers, not exactly. It's-" Steve makes a frustrated noise, and looks over at Robin, doing something complicated with his expression.

Robin immediately takes over. "Max doesn't have powers, right? But we're letting her go up against Vecna in her mind anyway, because she's the best equipped to handle it."

Steve snaps his fingers. "Yes! El has the most experience with the lab and the Upside Down. She's got the home team advantage, and she's used to bopping around in people's minds. Her and Will would be even better. We stand a better chance with them."

Dustin's looking at Steve in a way that Eddie recognizes, just a little - a dimmer echo of the way he'd always lit up when he insisted that Steve was a badass. "Okay," he says, dropping down to sit next to them. "How would you stall?"

Steve looks back and forth between Eddie and Robin. "I'd talk to Max. See how she's feeling, how strong Vecna is, if the tape's getting weaker, how long she thinks it can last. If she can sense any changes in Vecna. We keep checking in, keep it up as long as we can, and have her try to get a message to El."

"I'm in," Max says, plopping down to wedge herself into their group.

Eddie only screams a little.

Steve looks at her, his absolutely not face already in full swing.

"Don't look at me like that, this is your plan," she tells him.

"Hypothetical! This is all hypothetical!" Steve makes a chopping motion with his hand, like he's cutting it off there. "Max, the longer we wait, the more danger you're in."

She gives him the most unimpressed look that Eddie's ever seen. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure I'm going to be the most in danger by inviting him into my head to chase me around and hope I can hide well enough for you guys to kill him before he kills me. I'd much rather have El here for all of that, thanks."

If Eddie didn't know better, he'd think he saw the faintest wobble in her eyes, or maybe her tone.

Steve goes the softest that Eddie's ever seen him. "Maxie," he starts.

She kicks his knee before he can get more than that out.

"Hey!" he yelps. "Fine, whatever, okay, but we need everyone to agree. And you have to promise me that you'll tell us the truth about how you're feeling. We have to know any change, and I mean any change."

"I promise," she agrees easily.

Dustin, Robin, and Steve all share a glance. Eddie's - not actually sure how they manage it, but it makes Max huff in irritation.

"I promise. You can even use stalker as a lie detector." She jerks her head back towards the other side of the camper. There's a moment of silence, then she rolls her eyes. "I don't care if Munson knows who my soulmates are."

Soulmates, plural, and she already knows who they are? Eddie's stomach clenches a little, wondering once again what these kids have gone through that was so intense that Max'd found her soulmates before she even hit high school.

"So how do I send a message to El?" Max asks.

Steve rubs a hand over his jaw, pinching the bridge of his nose. "All right, let's get everyone back together, then."

They catch Nancy, Lucas, and Erica up in quick, terse sentences - Nancy looks irritated at the suggestion of delaying the plan, and Lucas keeps shooting little worried glances at Max, like he wants to protest, too, but knows Max well enough to know it won't do much if she's set her mind to it.

"I promise to let you guys know the second there's any change, and to answer any question you ask about it directly and immediately," Max dutifully repeats after some prompting.

Only then does Lucas relax.

"Come on, Steve, how do I get a message to El?" she asks again.

Steve quirks a little smile. "You tell us a lie."

There's a second before Eddie figures out what he's saying, and then he's pretty sure he stops breathing.

"You say something like 'I don't want to tell my soulmate that an evil clock obsessed wizard is out to get me, and I don't want her and her brothers to get their asses back to Hawkins immediately.'"

Dimly, Eddie hears a round of sharp inhales, and he's pretty sure he's not the only one staring at Steve anymore.

"Holy shit, Steve," Dustin says, sounding impressed.

"You sure that'll work?" Nancy asks.

"Yeah," Steve says. "I used to do it with my soulmate all the time when we were younger, so, uh. Technically you can thank them for the idea."

It's him, fuck. It has to be. His soulmate has to be Steve, there's no other -

"Yeah," Robin agrees, spreading her hands like me too.

And all right, okay, so Eddie wasn't the only one to think of trying to talk to his soulmate like that, he kind of figured that. But this is still way too many coincidences, shit, there's no way his soulmate isn't Steve goddamn Harrington, and what is he supposed to do with that?

Still, at least Robin solved his problem of how to agree with Steve without making it obvious that he might be Steve's soulmate.

"Me too," he manages to say. "It'll work."

Max nods, jaw working as she thinks for a moment - then her gaze shoots over to Lucas. He scoots over to sit next to her, and she barely has time to look back at Steve before Steve's dropped down to sit in front of her. Dustin takes up a spot on her other side at the same time, and she lets out a slow exhale.

The three of them were with her when she - when Vecna tried to get to her, Eddie remembers, and he fidgets with his rings to hide the way his hands shake as he tries not to think of how Chrissy'd looked right before she died.

"It helps if you're having a conversation with someone, and you think about your phrasing and say things you know are lies," Steve offers.

Exactly like Eddie'd pictured his soulmate doing. Yeah, fuck, okay, that's a great way to think about something else, but not something he really wants to think about, either.

"So, Mad Max!" Dustin says brightly. "How's your day going?"

"I'm not in danger," Max responds, which - blunt, yup, that should do it, even if it makes Eddie wince.

"Yeah, what's there to be in danger from?" Lucas asks.

"I'm not being targeted by something from the Upside Down."

"That's good, because how would we stop something like that?" Steve chimes in.

"We don't think we know his plan," Max says, then her eyes close. "I don't need my soulmates. I don't want El to come back to me, right now."

They all pretend they don't hear the tremor of emotion in her voice.

There's a tense silence for a little while.

"It took a little while for me to be able to respond, if I wasn't expecting it," Robin says, low and anxious. "I mean - I didn't respond much, because it freaked me out, but when I did."

"Same," Eddie says. "I sprung it on mine probably too much, and I usually didn't get an answer right away."

He doesn't look at Steve. Then he realizes - shit, he can't make it obvious he's not looking at Steve, so he darts his gaze over to him.

Steve only has eyes for Max, though, and Eddie feels a little bit relieved.

Eventually, Max jolts, and rolls down her sock. Scrawled across her ankle is I don't have my powers back. I don't think my soulmate should wait. I'm not coming.

So they wait.

Taglist (hopefully I got everyone, and always happy to add more!): @vampireinthesun @koibug @estrellami-1 @mentalcyborg @allbimyself26 @questionablequeeries @the-s-is-silent @whimsicalwitchm @a-gae-af-racoon @tinyplanet95 @n0-1-important @velocitytimes2 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @newtstabber @jcmadgirl @roblingoblin285 @lexyvey @paperbackribs @goodolefashionedloverboi @evix-syne666 @raisedbylibrarians @stxrcrossed186 @nightmareglitter @greekgeek24 @starman-jpg @crazyhatlady86 @affablevixen @imfinereallyy @manda-panda-monium @deleataecount @prideandsensibility @chaoticvictorianspirit @maydillydally @disrespectedgoatman @scarlet-malfoy @i-less-than-three-you @hbyrde36 @hallucinatedjosten @dragonsandgayships @arepaconchocolate @g4ys0n @novelnovella @bisexualdisastersworld @ghostofyourvampiregf @scarletyeager @pettrichore @nerd-and-nervous @hiimlevi @queenie-ofthe-void @cinnamon-mushroomabomination

-----

Part 10

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #dustin henderson #robin buckley #max mayfield #lucas sinclair #erica sinclair #nancy Wheeler #platonic soulmates stobin #steddie soulmates au #soulmates au #lumax

[metalhoops]

‘Of course, I remember you.’ 

As far as first words go, Eddie’s were a hell of a head-scratcher. 

To catch up the uninitiated, everyone in the world has a soulmate. It’s been debated and speculated if a person can have more than one, but the mechanics behind soulmates was a pseudo-science at best and downright magic at worst. The first words a person’s soulmate spoke to them were inscribed somewhere on that person’s body, typically in their soulmate’s handwriting. 

Doesn’t handwriting change over time? The uninitiated might ask, to which Eddie would repeat, it’s pseudo-science or magic. Either that or something like quantum mechanics, where people are pretty sure, one day we’ll understand how it works, but right now there are a lot of theories and only a little bit of evidence, most of which contradicts itself.

Most of the time, the words are boring and wholly unhelpful. He could count on two hands the number of people that simply had some variation of ‘hello’, tattooed somewhere on their body. From Eddie’s point of view, he got lucky. 

He had a sentence of scratchy scrawl written on his inner arm stating, ‘of course, I remember you’. And really, what the hell was Eddie meant to make of that? 

Typically, your tattoo lets you know you’d found your soulmate upon first meeting, but his words implied he’d meet his soulmate before they first speak and that it would be memorable. Wasn’t that goddamn frustrating? 

His soulmate’s first words were right up there with ‘hello’ in Eddie’s list of ‘top five worse soulmate marks,’ because how the hell were those poor bastards meant to know if they’d just met the love of their life or if it was just their weird neighbour Tom? With his number one spot reserved for Gareth’s truly horrific, ‘I’d thought you’d be taller’. His soulmate was original. He’d give him that. 

There was no surefire way to know your soulmate’s gender, same as there was no surefire way for a mother to ‘just know’ a baby’s gender before it was born. Yet if Eddie was being sacrilegious, as he so often was, he’d say he ‘just knew’ his soulmate was a guy. 

There was nothing in the handwriting that gave it away. Nothing particularly ‘feminine’ or ‘masculine’ about the lettering. But ever since Eddie was a kid whenever he thought about his soulmate, he’d always think of them as ‘him’. 

He would like this or that. He wouldn’t be an asshole, like the meathead jocks at Hawkins. He would be different. He’d be kind, caring, and of course, a total badass. Eddie just had to wait to meet him. 

Steve’s soulmate mark drove him crazy. 

‘You might not remember me’. 

What the hell was Steve meant to do with that? Soulmate tattoos were meant to let you know when you’d met your soulmate, not that you’d already met them. In the days before Steve received the shake-up of his life in the form of Nancy Wheeler and the Upside Down, he had a reputation for sleeping around. He knew back then he’d been a little hopeless, but surely he’d said more than a couple of words to a girl before he slept with them. 

It horrified Steve that he could meet his soulmate, in some respect, know them, and yet had never talked to them. Could he really be that much of a jerk?

He’d never thought Nancy was his soulmate. He knew their words didn’t match up. That didn’t mean he loved her any less. Statistically, the odds of meeting your soulmate were somewhere between getting crushed by a vending machine and winning the lottery. Steve’s parents weren’t soulmates and boy did that show, but a guy could dream. Call him a hopeless romantic, but Steve was holding out hope for them. 

He’d almost thought his soulmate was Robin. It fit, right? They went to the same school, but they’d never really talked. He’d been so busy with his first day at a real job, he’d missed Robin’s first words to him. It wasn’t until later he’d started to expect it might be her. That was, until the pair were huddled beside each other on the floor of a bathroom stall. Robin was a lesbian and her first words, although interesting, definitely proved they weren’t soulmates. 

When Steve was a kid, he’d spend hours daydreaming about what his soulmate would be like. She’d be outspoken. She’d be bold. She’d be able to make him laugh. When he’d gotten older, something changed. He didn’t know how to put it into words, at least not ones he was ready to say out loud. ‘She’ didn’t fit his soulmate quite right. So after high school, he started wondering what ‘they’ would be like. ‘They’ felt not quite right, but closer. 

Their handwriting was distinct. It was all sharp-edges and odd-angles. It looked like it was trying to replicate something Steve couldn’t quite place until he walked into the record store at Starcourt and caught a glimpse of an Iron Maiden album cover. That gave Steve his first real clue as to what his soulmate might be like. 

It would be another year before the same handwriting would stop him in his tracks. Dustin had marched into the Family Video store as they were shutting up shop, brandishing a notepad and talking about needing a ride to go play his fantasy game. Steve was always going to drive Dustin, but he’d been dragging his feet, to show the kid he wouldn’t always drop everything to take him places. A familiar sharp edged, odd angled handwriting stopped Steve cold. 

“What are those?” Steve asked, trying to fain disinterest as his heart pounded in his ears. 

“They’re notes from the last session. You know, so we can keep track of what’s happened so far in the campaign. Who’s doing what quests, how many hit points everyone’s got. Mike is currently—.” Steve couldn’t give a crap about Mike. 

“Who’s writing is it?” Steve tried not to sound as desperate as he felt. 

Robin must have known something was up because she moved to Steve’s side. With one glance at the notepad, she understood why Steve was acting so strangely. She’d seen his tattoo, she knew it was his soulmate’s handwriting. 

“Our D.M.’s” Dustin replied. He might as well have been speaking in freaking code. 

“Alright, I’ll drive you,” Steve gave in, hoping he could catch a glance of his soulmate. Maybe his tattoo was wrong, maybe he’d know his soulmate when he saw them. 

They pulled up outside of the high school. He saw a group of people loitering outside the auditorium. Dustin had brought a lot of loose sheets of paper, so it only made sense Steve helped him carry his notebooks in. Most of the people there were familiar faces, the kids he’d babysat with a few exceptions. 

“Well, if it isn’t our favourite bard. I’m glad you decided to grace us with your presence,” an oh-too-familiar voice crooned. A boy broke away from the crowd to meet Dustin. 

He was Steve’s age. They’d gone to school together. The dude used to do all these weird soap-box sessions on their lunch table. They had gym together, and history. Steve didn’t think the two had ever actually spoken.  

“I would’ve been here quicker if I hadn’t had to play twenty questions with Steve. Steve, you know Eddie, our D.M.? Weren’t you two in the same year?” 

Eddie was practically shooting daggers at Dustin’s side profile, shaking his head discreetly as though hoping Steve didn’t remember who he was. He supposed Eddie always had a reputation. 

“You might not remember me,” Eddie spoke before Steve could answer. 

Holy shit.

“Of course, I remember you,” Steve argued and watched as Eddie’s eyes swelled to the size of dinner plates. 

Both boys stood, slack-jawed and stiff-shouldered, peering at one another. Steve’s brain short-circuited, because holy shit, Eddie Munson was his soulmate. Holy shit he’d found them, him. 

Steve dropped Dustin’s notes and swarmed forward without thinking, throwing his arms around Eddie. Much to his surprise, instead of freaking out, like any normal person, Eddie was waiting to catch him, leaving both of them to tumble ass backwards onto the parking lot asphalt.

They held each other in a bone-crushing hug. Steve buried his face in Eddie’s neck, surprised at how naturally the action came. He’d never hugged a man like this, hell he’d hugged no one like this. He was clinging so desperately to the man that he’d never thought he’d really find. Eddie pulled back slightly, trying to get a better look at Steve’s face. The guy’s eyes were alight with wonder and mischief. 

“That was quite an entrance, Harrington. All for little old me?” 

“I’ve been looking for you forever,” Steve admitted. 

“Well, clearly you’ve been doing a shit job of it,” Eddie argued which earned a snort from Steve. His soulmate would be able to make him laugh. 

“You’re not disappointed, you know? That your soulmate is the town Freak?” 

Steve had given up on caring about labels, on caring about what other people thought. Since high school, he had changed. He was different.  He didn’t want to be just another, shallow, meathead jock. He wanted to be different. 

“No. Absolutely not. Why would I care?” 

Dustin shattered the moment, clearing his throat and proclaiming,

“Alright, anyone care to tell me what the hell just happened?” 

#steddie #steddie ficlet #fictlet #drabble #steddie drabble #obligatory soulmate au #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things au #stranger things 4 #steveddie #I love reading soulmate aus #but I've never written one #so first time for everything #metalhoops writes

[theshippirate22]

eddie’s favorite story to tell about steve? the time he heard the first two notes of apple bottom jeans at a club and whipped around so fast to try and find robin that he pulled a muscle in his neck

#steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie #robin buckley #platonic stobin #platonic soulmates #is this a modern au or was steve 40 years old when it happened? have fun trying to figure out

[estrellami-1]

(Healing From the) Pain

Steve spent most of his life feeling pain. At this point, he characterizes his life by it.

The pain of a backhand, courtesy of his father, at six years old. His lip doesn’t split, but it’s a near thing.

The pain in his wrist when he falls wrong at nine years old. His parent won’t take him to the doctor initially, so he goes to school the next day. When the teacher notices, she sends him to the nurse, who calls his parents. They’re upset at him. He doesn’t know why, but he promises them it won’t happen again.

The pain all over at fourteen when he gets into wrestling. He’s good, manages to pin his opponent four times out of five.

The pain at sixteen, getting his face bashed in by Jonathan Byers. Then the demogorgon, and really, Steve is just a walking bruise at that point.

Then there’s the Russians. The less said about that, the better. The only silver lining is Robin.

Now he’s trailing behind Dustin, breaking into Reefer Rick’s boathouse, and Steve is sure this is going to end painfully.

He’s shoved against the wall, something sharp against his neck, and he thinks he was right as he groans.

The something sharp against his neck digs in as he looks Eddie Munson in the eye, and a few things happen simultaneously.

Eddie drops the shard of glass, steps back with a gasp, and brings his hand up to his own neck.

Steve blinks at him, thinks there’s no fuckin’ way, and stoops to scoop up the piece of glass and test it.

He presses the point into his left palm. Eddie reaches out to stop him, then flinches away.

“Well,” Steve says, because finding his soulmate in a boathouse was not on his Bingo card for this year, but here he is, with the burning brand of a soulmark on his neck to prove it.

Eddie skitters back, breathing growing heavy, looking around with wild eyes. He doesn’t seem to see Dustin, and something snaps in Steve’s chest.

He drops the glass and steps forward. “Dustin, out,” he says, and something in his voice must be different, because Dustin doesn’t hesitate before closing the door behind him. “Eddie,” Steve says softly. “You’re okay. It’s alright. I know you didn’t kill Chrissy.”

Eddie glances at Steve’s neck, then his hand, before looking away. Something else breaks open in Steve’s chest. “I’m not mad,” he admits quietly. “Eddie, please. I just want to make sure you’re okay.” He steps forward again, hope unfurling in his chest when Eddie doesn’t move. He takes another cautious step, then another, until finally he’s in front of Eddie.

Still being cautious, he raises a hand, well within Eddie’s line of sight, and lets it rest gently on Eddie’s forearm.

Eddie flinches violently, but doesn’t move away. Steve takes it as permission and places his other hand on Eddie’s other forearm. He gently rubs them up Eddie’s arms until they’re resting on his shoulders. “You’re shaking,” he whispers, swiping a thumb up and down the side of Eddie’s neck. The something in his chest heals a little.

“Y-you’re-”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees, still whispering. “I am.”

“How-”

Steve shrugs. “I don’t know. I don’t really care. I’m just- is it weird if I say I’m glad I found you?”

Eddie manages a hysterical bray of a laugh. “A girl died on my ceiling, man, this is not the weirdest part of my day.”

Steve nods. “Let’s go back to my place,” he suggests. “It’ll be a lot easier to hide there, no one will think to look for you, and we can explain everything.”

Eddie takes a breath. Another. Lets his fingers trail along Steve’s arm. Nods. “Okay,” he whispers.

“Okay,” Steve whispers back, smiling a little, and Eddie copies him. His chest heals a little bit more, and suddenly Steve knows everything’s going to work out just fine.

Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect @i-less-than-three-you @alyelf @quarble @messrs-weasley @littlewildflowerkitten @vankaar @starman-jpg @bornonthesavage @steddie-there @goodolefashionedloverboi @mischivarien @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @platinum-sunset @just-ladyme @steddiestains @swimmingbirdrunningrock @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @martinskis-lydias @notaqueenakhaleesi @sleepyboosstuff @bestwifehaver @m-owo-n @thatonebadideapanda @finalmoondragon @velocitytimes2 @callmeanythjing @ajeff855 @ilikeititspretty @knitsforthetrail @sillysparrow @that-one-corvid @ace-is-bored @inadequatecowboy @harpymoth @weirdandabsurd42

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #soulmates #soulmate au #at this point I can’t tell if this is any good anymore #this is NOT a part one to something #it is its own standalone fic #starambles

[sp0o0kylights]

Eddie doesn’t say a thing, still hidden under the blanket.

Steve, the brilliant thinker he is, pokes it, because that went so well for him the first time.

“You didn’t die, did you dude? Cause I really can’t handle someone biting it in my car. She’s my baby.”

“Shut up Harrington.” Eddie says, but it's wobbly.

The same tone Max tends to get when she’s furiously trying not to let on that she’s crying.

This leaves Steve two choices.

The first is to pull the blankets off Eddie, which will reveal him to the world at large, possibly exposing him to any passerbyers (not that anyone is likely to jog by but Steve takes no chances anymore) and very likely piss him off if not make the panic attack he’s denying having much worse-

Or, he can do what he does with the kids.

Debates for a second if this is a Henderson or Wheeler Jr situation, before landing on Wheeler. He and Eddie both have that same tendency to screech and wave their arms instead of whining and sulking.

Steve grabs the blanket, lifting it up so it covers both the floor and the seat, and then crawls under the blankets with him.

“What the fuck-” Eddie sputters, wrestling for a moment and making things difficult, until Steve manages to get into a somewhat okay position.

Chest hugging the backseat, the blanket lifted up enough that he can see Munson’s face, water bottle next to him and within reach.

Knows he looks absolutely fucking ridiculous to any passerbyer with his feet hanging out the open door.

“Hi.” Steve tells him, and wow is it crammed back here. “Thought I’d join the blanket fort."

He does not get a response.

The blanket was big enough to cover both his seat and a good chunk of the floor (purchased on purpose so as many of the gremlins could fit under it as necessary)

Red rimmed eyes stare back at him, Eddie looking all too like a cornered, feral cat.

Feeling an awful lot like he’s repeating the Tew’s Stuck in the Cabinets situation, Steve prepares himself for the long haul, rummages around in his pocket where he know he keeps a coin for this exact joke, and says;

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Eddie lets out a noise that might have been a laugh, if someone also choked and sneezed at the same time. “That was fucking terrible Harrington.”

#steddie #steve x eddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #hurt/comfort #0o0 fanfics #steddie fanfic #this is part of my soulmate AU #illustrated #wip #stranger things season 4 #stranger things fanfiction

[little-bumblebeeee]

*Eddie receiving nudes from Steve*

Eddie: these are high quality tf?? Ain't no way your phone took these pictures did you get a photoshoot done??

Steve: Robin helped

Eddie: fuck you mean "Robin helped"??????

#stranger things #joe keery #steve harrington #joseph quinn #eddie munson #joe quinn #steddie #stranger things incorrect quotes #steddie incorrect quotes #steddie modern au #maya hawke #robin buckley #platonic stobin #platonic soulmates stobin #steve and robin

[afewproblems]

Christmas Party Wish Part One

After The Christmas party, Steve manages to avoid everyone for all of two days before Robin shows up at his front door, ready to knock it down.

He crosses from the kitchen and into the foyer just as Robin starts yelling.

"Steven Marie Harrington, you open up this door or so help me--"

Steve rolls his eyes, pulling the door inward quickly enough that Robin loses her balance and nearly topples onto the inside floor mat. If not for Steve's quick reflexes she would be face down in a heap, he tells her as much with a sly grin as he helps her to stand.

"And whose fault would that be? Nice way to treat the person who is here to help you out Dingus," Robin huffs, brushing off imaginary dust from her shoulders while Steve moves aside to let her in.

"Merry Christmas to you too Rob," Steve says tugging her towards himself. He sighs as she immediately wraps her arms around his neck, content until she blows a long wet raspberry into his check. Steve drops her with a yelp and wipes away the wet mark she left behind with grinning lips.

"That was for ignoring my call," she says with narrowed eyes, "you were supposed to come for supper on Christmas day remember?"

She shrugs off her blue parka before lifting each foot to pull off her snowy boots, Steve takes the coat and tosses it over the back of the closest chair and crosses his arms over his chest.

"I know," he manages after a beat, sighing as Robin scoffs. She turns on her heel and wanders into the kitchen, leaving Steve to trail after her.

"I can only assume it's because you had other plans, you can't have possibly ignored my call for some other reason, hmm?"

Steve lifts his head to stare at the ceiling and count to five.

The thing that Steve both loves and hates about his best friend is her ability to read him through and through and call him on his shit. He'd hoped to have at least a little more time to wallow in self pity though.

"You've been wallowing for two days Steve, and I know it sucks," she chews her lip for a moment before sighing, "I'm sorry about the wish game, I feel like it's my fault".

Steve shakes his head and moves to the fridge. He opens it and reaches inside for two cans of cola before turning and using his foot to nudge the door closed again. He stacks the cans, holding them both with one hand and he moves to the pantry, grabbing an old open tube of Pringles, before making his way back to the kitchen island.

"Nah," he says eventually, "it wasn't your fault, if anything it proved why I was right not to say anything".

Steve places Robin's cola and the chips on the counter beside him and cracks the tab on his can with one hand as he leans heavily against the edge. He takes a long swig from the can, pounding his chest as he finishes to release a long burp.

Robin grimaces and swats at Steve's bicep as she grabs her own can and hops up onto the counter next to Steve.

"Dis-GUST-ing," she enunciates, wrinkling her nose, "and it doesn't prove anything Steve, of course Eddie would wish for his band to succeed, he doesn't even know you're on the table".

"And besides," Robin continues, gesturing to Steve with the can, "Nancy and Jonathan don't know that I'm a friend of Dorothy and we've known each other for over a year now. You've known them for three years and haven't said anything either, Dingus, so why would Eddie feel comfortable sharing something like that in front of everyone?"

And, huh, well what Robin says does make a lot more sense than the rambling depressing thoughts that he's been playing on repeat since their movie night.

He and Eddie have gotten a lot closer since they escaped from the Upside Down for the last time. Since Steve managed to carry him out of hell and got them to the hospital in time.

And Steve has been trying so hard for months not to expose himself, to show the most vulnerable parts of his heart to someone that could stomp on it as easily as Nancy did.

But Robin has a point.

On the one hand Steve has been protecting himself, and on the other he's also made sure that there would never be a possibility of--

Steve shakes his head, "first of all, I only just figured all of this, Bi-Sectional stuff, out Robin--"

"Bisexual," she sighs as Steve keeps talking.

"Whatever, and second, we have no idea if Eddie swings that way either…I just don't want to take the risk and end up fucking it all up".

Robin stares at him, an unhappy frown marring her normally sweet features. It feels too much like she's evaluating the inside of his mind --though she did always have the uncanny talent of knowing exactly what he was thinking.

"And what would you say if I told you I had a plan?" Robin says slowly, her gaze unwavering still.

Steve meets her eyes for a moment, taking in the smirk and the raised eyebrow. There's a challenge in her expression and Steve knows there's nothing for it but to listen to what she has to say.

"I'm going to regret letting you in today aren't I?" Steve says as he lifts his can towards her own.

Robin answers with a wide grin and knocks her can into his with a metallic click.

"Don't you always? Anyways," she clears her throat and looks at him with a mischievous smirk, lifting her hands into the air and wiggling her fingers, "I'm thinking, are you ready? New Year's Eve!"

"No--"

"New Year's Eve Steve, come on!" She insists as Steve grazes on a stack of chips from the Pringles tube.

"All we need to do is invite everyone over, Eddie included, to Casa Harrington for a little New Years Party," Robin continues, ignoring the eye roll Steve sends her way, "with enough liquid courage you'd have another opportunity to actually talk to Eddie, confess your feelings, and Boom! Maybe even get a midnight kiss out of the whole thing!"

Steve stares at her wide eyes and wider grin, forcing himself to keep his expression blank.

"So, just to be clear," Steve says eventually, around a mouthful of chips. Robin exaggeratedly gags and snatches her own stack from the tube.

"Your plan is for me to host another party and talk to him".

"Well, yeah--"

"...Robin, that's not a plan, that's a repeat of what already happened," Steve groans as he puts down the chips and runs his hands over his face until they've tangled into his hair.

"No, no, nuh uh, because you didn't say jack shit to him all night," she huffs, gently pulling his hands down, "the crucial difference my sweet bozo, is that you are actually going to tell him how you feel this time".

"How am I supposed to do that with my ex-girlfriend and her boyfriend, and everyone else here smart ass," he counters, letting her continue to hold his hands in her own smaller ones.

She rolls her eyes but squeezes his fingers as she continues, "it will be easy to get him alone, come on, you could tell him you want to give him his Christmas present in your room, you could ask him to go for a smoke outside, you could show him the basement stereo and your ridiculous music collection, must I go on while you don't write this down?"

With every suggestion Steve feels a surge of warm affection for his friend and allows for a fond grin to replace the skeptical frown on his face.

"Do I have to do all of those or should I pick one?" Steve asks, lifting his now free hands to protect his face as Robin whips her own at his chest and head.

"How you were ever considered a ladies man, I will never know," Robin says, though the words are rather undercut by a laugh that turns into a giggle as she finds a particularly ticklish rib and begins her assault.

"You are a fucking menace birdie," Steve manages to say as he catches the offending hands and steps away from the counter and his friends attack.

"You love it," she scoffs, stealing another chip and crunching it loudly as though to make her point.

And he does, Steve thinks to himself.

They have five days to figure out the final details, and Steve can't help but move back to the counter to swing an arm around her shoulders.

Because when in doubt, he can always count on Robin.

"Okay, New Years it is".

#afewproblems writes #steve harrington #robin buckley #i missed writing these two so much #platonic soulmates #platonic stobin #holiday steddie #holiday fic #part two christmas wish #robin and steve are chaotic siblings and no one can tell me otherwise #i saw someone asked for a part two and a part three so here we are #feels good to be writing again #the final part of the halloween au is coming along still so hopefully people are also excited for that haha #please support by commenting and reblogging