steddieholidaydrabbles

[steddieholidaydrabbles]

something different

for @steddieholidaydrabbles pop up event 'full moon'

rated t | 959 words | cw: some blood mention but not detailed | tags: post-vecna, someone comes back wrong but it ain't eddie, vampire steve, or maybe not, but vampire adjacent definitely, friends to lovers, getting together

also on ao3

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

“Steve, are you…okay?” Eddie watches as Steve shivers violently, making a pained noise in his throat. He’s been off tonight. Kind of quiet. Everyone assumed he had a migraine and just left him alone, but now that it’s just them, Eddie’s a bit more worried.

This is definitely not just a migraine.

“Fine. You heading out soon?” Steve sounds choked up, like he has something stuck in his throat.

“I can if you want me to,” Eddie tries not to sound upset at the fact Steve seems to want him gone. He must be coming down with something more serious. “Are you gonna be okay if I go?”

Steve nods, clenches his fists.

“Did I do something to piss you off, man?”

Steve shakes his head, breathes out.

“Okay. I guess I’ll just go then?”

Steve nods again. Eddie doesn’t want to leave. Whatever this attitude is is making him nervous. Steve can be bitchy and standoffish sometimes, but never really to him.

He hasn’t let himself read into that too much over the last few months.

“Do you need any-”

“Please go!” Steve interrupts, sounding genuinely angry. Eddie jumps up from his spot on the couch, but doesn’t leave yet.

He’s looking at Steve, at the way he seems paler than usual, at the bloodshot eyes, at the tense set of his shoulders and the way his hands are clenching into fists until his fingernails are drawing blood. This isn’t a migraine. Eddie’s seen a lot of weird shit in the last six months, maybe more than a person can handle for a lifetime. This is weird shit.

“What’s going on?” He’s not running. He’s staring whatever this is in the face. He’s helping Steve the same way Steve helped him in that hell dimension.

Eddie watches as Steve’s gaze drifts to the window. It’s a full moon tonight, and the light coming inside the window is enough to make Eddie wonder if the sun has even fully set yet.

“Eddie please,” Steve begs. Eddie tilts his head and waits. Steve will give in eventually, especially if he doesn’t leave. He grits his teeth and lets out a whimper. “Eddie. You need to leave before something bad happens to you.”

“What could happen to me?”

“I could hurt you.”

“How? You saved my life. You’d never hurt me.”

Steve’s getting paler by the second now, and the shadows under his eyes are so dark, Eddie feels like he’s imagining it. Maybe this is a weird dream.

“I can’t-” Steve rubs his face and whimpers again, pained, like he’s suffering.

Eddie steps closer, ignoring Steve’s protests. A closer look only worries him more.

“Steve…” Eddie looks out at the full moon, then back at Steve, at the way he’s trying to hide his face. “You need to tell me how to help you. Right now.”

“I’m not sure.”

“You know what you need,” Eddie is close enough now to see the tremors wracking his body. “You’ve been like this since the bites, haven’t you?”

Steve nods. “It’s only on the full moon.”

“Like a werewolf?” Eddie’s confused. This isn’t what he’s read about when it comes to werewolves. And it wouldn’t make sense that he gets bitten by bats and turns into a werewolf. But maybe anything is possible.

“No. Like.” Steve swallows and breathes in and out slowly. “More like a vampire I guess.”

“So you need blood?” Eddie can give that to him. He has that. Quite a bit of it, in fact.

“I-”

“It’s okay if you do. What’ve you been doing this whole time?” Eddie brushes his fingers against the back of Steve’s hand. “What helped?”

“Nothing helped. I just…hid. Locked myself in my room.”

Eddie cups his cheeks, smiles sadly. “But you need blood, right?”

Steve lets out a shaky breath. “I think so.”

“Then have mine.”

Steve still hesitates, even though Eddie can tell he’s losing whatever internal battle is happening. He leans closer, seems like he can’t resist it as much anymore.

“I don’t know if it’ll be enough,” Steve whispers. “It may not be enough.”

Eddie notes the difference between the statements and plunges ahead anyways.

“We can try. And if it doesn’t help, we’ll figure it out. But you’re not suffering alone anymore.”

Steve’s eyes are nearly black now, his skin cold to the touch. It’s unlike anything Eddie’s ever heard about in stories, but he doesn’t show his confusion or panic. Steve needs him now, needs him to be steadfast and strong. He can do that for him.

When Steve sniffs at his neck, he holds back a laugh. It tickles, and it’s kind of awkward, and definitely not how he pictured Steve’s lips on him for the first time. They’re barely there, light pressure where he knows teeth are going to sink in.

Just when he’s about to ask if Steve actually even has fangs, he feels a sharp pinch and then nothing. His mind goes blank, his body goes numb, and he’s floating in a black abyss.

****

When he comes to, the sun is shining through the window.

Steve is holding him against his chest, protective and warm.

Eddie lifts his head and smiles.

“Did it help?” Eddie asks, voice nearly gone and neck sore.

“It did. Get some more rest, though. I think I took too much,” Steve kisses the top of his head.

“That’s new,” Eddie sighs out as he relaxes against his chest again. His heart is beating. He’s warm again. He’s Steve. “Is it ‘cause I gave you blood?”

“It’s ‘cause you’re actually a good guy, Munson. Now, go back to sleep.”

Eddie closes his eyes and does exactly what Steve says. Maybe next full moon they plan this out better.

[steddieholidaydrabbles]

sleepless

written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles popup prompt full moon

rated: T | wc: 1.000 | tags: pre steddie, love confessions, implied friends to lovers

After an hour of tossing and turning, Steve finally gives up. It’s one of those nights where sleep just doesn’t seem to want to take a hold of him, no matter how tired he is.

Maybe the full moon shining through the blinds is messing with him - maybe it’s his own mind. Either way, it’s no use to keep trying.

Steve gets up, wanders aimlessly through the house surrounded by darkness and silence, and only comes back to a conscious mind when his hand has already reached for the phone on the wall.

It’s past midnight, too late to ring any of his friends up and rip them from their well-deserved rest.

It wouldn’t be the first time, but the nightly calls did stop eventually, their nightmares now less frequent and better to handle.

Steve hesitates for a moment but suppresses the urge to dial the one number he knows by heart. He could make himself a cup of warm milk and honey instead – that’s what his mother used to do when he was little and she was still around to care. He’s not a kid anymore but maybe it’ll help anyway.

Just when he’s about to turn around and head to the kitchen, he’s startled by a loud ringing noise. For a second, he stares at the phone, wonders if he’s maybe fallen asleep and is just making it all up in his dream. But the ringing doesn’t stop, so he picks up the receiver, a hushed ‘Hello?’ on his lips.

   “Hey Stevie. Sorry to call so late. I- I couldn’t sleep and you said I could always- you know what, never mind. I’m sorry. Go back to bed, I’ll talk to you later.”

   "Wait! It’s okay. I couldn’t sleep either."

There’s a beat of silence on the other side, followed by a relieved sounding sigh.

   “Nightmare?” Eddie asks, and Steve shakes his head, remembers too late that Eddie can’t see him.

   “No. I don’t know. Just feel restless. What about you? Was it the bats again?”

Eddie huffs a humourless laugh, and Steve scolds himself for even bringing it up.

   “Nah, man. Those beasts can suck my balls. I’m done being scared of them.”

His choice of words makes Steve giggle.

   “Not sure I’d want them anywhere near my balls to be honest.”

That makes Eddie laugh in earnest now, too.

   “On a second thought, you’re absolutely right. I mean they did nearly suck the life out of me but… not in a fun way.”

Steve feels himself blush, not for the first time getting a little too caught up on Eddie making a dirty joke at his own expense. Feeling the familiar swoop in his stomach that gets even worse whenever Eddie's doing his silly flirting thing to rile him up.

He could deny it, but the feelings he has for Eddie have gotten too big to ignore. It's not even a crush anymore - he's head over heels in love.

   "Steve? You still there?"

   "Y-yeah, sorry. Just got lost in thoughts," Steve answers honestly, feeling all sorts of stupid for letting himself get carried away.

   "Lost in thoughts, huh. Thoughts about bats and balls?"

Eddie's barking laugh is infectious.

   "Baseball, sure. But you wouldn’t know a damn thing about that," Steve teases back.

   "Ah, you know. For a pretty boy, I could fake interest in pretty much anything."

Steve knows Eddie's just playing, keeping their banter going, but the butterflies in his stomach apparently didn't get the memo. Just like his mouth.

   "You calling me pretty, Munson?"

Eddie's laughter dies so suddenly, Steve thinks he accidently hung up. When he speaks again, he sounds different. Almost shy.

   "Would that be bad?"

Steve swallows roughly, his throat feeling too tight.

   "N-no." His heart beats harder, sweat collecting in the palm that tightens around the receiver. "I'd call you pretty, too."

The words linger between them. Seconds pass but they feel like endless minutes of silence, until Eddie cracks first.

   "Wanna know why I couldn't sleep?" he asks, and Steve hums, nervously biting his bottom lip. "I couldn't sleep because I was thinking of you."

Steve's heart squeezes tight in his chest, threatening to burst into a billion pieces.

   "About me?" he barely manages to croak out but smiles dumbly nonetheless.

   "Yes, you. You're always on my mind. And it's driving me crazy. I know that you- actually, I don't. But I do know that I like you. A lot. And that I miss you every time you're not around. Is that stupid? Tell me it's stupid."

Something explodes behind his ribcage and Steve feels like he's been knocked sideways. He takes two deep breaths, one for courage and one to collect himself, before he dares to answer.

   "If that's stupid, that makes us both idiots." His nerves and thoughts are all over the place but he knows it's now or never. "Because I think about you all the time, too. And like doesn't even come close to what I feel for you."

Silence is followed by a rhythmic beeping sound, and it takes Steve a moment to understand that this time, Eddie actually hung up on him.

He can't breathe, needs air, so he stumbles outside with tears in his eyes.

The moon is taunting him, shining light on his misery as he helplessly asks himself where the fuck he went wrong.

Did he really misread the signs?

He was so sure Eddie felt the same.

Suddenly, out of the dark, two beams are heading his way, coming closer at a dangerous speed. A vehicle stops with screeching brakes in his driveway, wheels swirling up gravel and dust. The engine is still running when the driver's door swings open, a figure running towards him.

   "Eddie?"

He's never seen him move so fast, faster than his own brain can catch on with what is happening when two arms wrap around him, lifting him off the ground.

   "Sorry," Eddie laughs, "hard to kiss you on the phone."

[steddieholidaydrabbles]

The Pull

Written for the September pop-up round of the @steddieholidaydrabbles (prompt: Full Moon) and for round 2 of the @steddiebingo (prompt: Monster)

Rated: T

Tags: Post-Vecna; Eddie Munson lives; Kas!Eddie; Monster!Eddie; Nightmares (or are they?); Sleepwalking; Kidnapping

The silver portal calls him. He has been waiting for it to grow, in the place where the sky is always red and there’s only rot and decay and monsters like him. He can only leave when the silver circle is full, and he’s been growing impatient. 

The crawl into the other place is agonizingly slow. He pushes his way into it one inch at a time, tail rustling on leaves, wings catching on twigs and branches, claws digging through moss and earth. In the dark, something small and frightened and alive scatters off into the underbrush. He can feel the frantic thrumthrumthrum of its heart in the air, can taste the delicious coppery red of its blood on his tongue, can feel the tingle in his fangs as they itch to bury themselves in its flesh. It would be easy, catching it, but he lets it run. His time is limited, and he has more important things on his mind. 

The silver circle lights his way, but even without it, he would know where to go. The pull is strong, and he knows they both feel it. 

Him and his mate. 

It took a while to find him. When he first woke, he was still unused to this new form. The light in this place hurt his eyes, the noise of all the living things scared him, and he didn’t understand why he had to keep coming back to this wretched place. 

He understands now. 

And soon, he won’t need to come here ever again.

The trees part before him. The silver light is brighter here, making the stones sticking from the ground look like teeth in a skull. The name on the one in front of him is faintly familiar - but that is not what pulls closer in with an irresistible force. 

It’s the figure standing before it. 

He growls. His mate turns. 

The boy’s eyes are glassy, and he walks like a person wading through shrouds of mist, but when he opens his wings, he steps into them without hesitation.

He’s beautiful, the silver light bringing out every single mole on his skin. He’s wearing a thin pair of pants and nothing else, and the scars on his hip seem to glow with their own light. Claws ghosting over pink skin, he allows himself to feel the thrum, the pull, the energy that binds them together. His tail slithers around the boy’s legs, the tips of his claws dig into soft flesh, but his mate doesn’t shy away.   

He growls lowly, nosing at the curve of that throat, feeling red, wet warmth through the thin barrier of skin. His boy shivers and tilts his head up. As his fangs slide in and the sweet, metallic taste coats his mouth, the thrum between them swells into a violent storm. The last thing he’s aware of is the portal opening up to swallow them both. 

*

Eddie flails awake to a searing pain behind his temples and a shrill ringing in his ears. His mouth tastes like copper, and for a horrible second, he’s back in the Upside Down, trying to breathe through a shredded windpipe and choking on his own blood. Drawing deep breaths just like his therapist taught him, he buries his face in the pillow and waits for it to stop.

It takes him a moment to identify the ringing as the phone. 

“What the fuck?” he mutters, untangling himself from the sheets. Passing his bedroom window, he catches a glance of the full moon setting behind the skyscrapers in the distance. It can hardly be later than six. 

The phone is still ringing. 

Eddie makes a mental note to bring up the freaky monthly nightmares during his next therapy session, then makes his way into the corridor. It’s probably Bert, asking him to jump in for another shift at the garage. 

Except the voice blaring from the receiver isn’t Bert’s. It’s one he never planned on hearing again. 

“Eddie? Finally! I’ve been trying to reach you for hours, do you sleep with your head under a-” 

“Dustin?” he croaks. “How did you get this number? How do you even know I’m alive?” 

The kids scoffs. Eddie can practically see the eye roll, and something unbearably fond stirs in his chest. “I have my ways. I also have no time to explain. How quickly can you get home, we need you right the fuck-” “No,” he snaps. Dustin goes silent, and Eddie’s stomach clenches with guilt. “I’m sorry, Henderson, but I disappeared for a reason. I’m done with that shit, not like I was a huge help. I’m sure whatever it is, you guys can figure it out on your-” 

“Steve’s gone.” 

Eddie’s world stops. Outside, a siren wails. “What?” Dustin groans.

“He’s been acting off for a while. Spacing out, hearing things that weren’t there, sleepwalking. El said it might be related to the bats? We tried to keep an eye on him, but … I dunno, he got away last night, and now- … El can’t find him anymore, and we think he could- … The only person who also got bitten is you, so- … Are you still there?” 

“I’m here.” It’s a good thing his hallway is tiny, Eddie thinks distractedly. Otherwise, there’d be no way he could yank open the closet and pull out his duffel, all while still holding on to the phone. “I’m coming. I’ll call you from the airport.” “What, really?” Dustin’s voice sounds suspiciously wet. “Thank you. I- … See you soon.” 

Leaving the receiver dangling from its cord, Eddie rushes back into the bedroom to pack. Behind the roofs outside, the last sliver of full moon taunts him, like a gate into a world he never wanted to set foot into again. 

He guesses he’ll have to. 

He also guesses he’ll have to tell the others about the dreams, but he’ll worry about that once he’s back in the hell that is Hawkins, Indiana. 

More Holiday Drabbles More Steddie Bingo

[steddieholidaydrabbles]

Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles.

i will come for you in the evening, ragged and reeling

Pop-Up Prompt: Full Moon | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: M | CW: Came Back Wrong | Tags: Post S4, Steve Is Being Called By Something in the Woods, So Of Course He's Gonna Check It Out

The screaming coming from the woods is close, too close, and the hairs on the back of Steve's neck stand at attention. It almost sounds like a woman, a baby, but there's an edge of inhumanness that raises Steve's hackles.

It might be a bobcat, a mountain lion, even if they swear they aren't near Hawkins.

Steve's seen too many things that aren't supposed to be near Hawkins to take any stock in what should be. He only believes in what is because he doesn't trust anything else. Can't. He's seen too much to believe the official party line on anything.

The source of the screaming can't be too far in the trees. He looks from his bedroom window, as if he might be able to see anything.

He can't. Even with the full moon illuminating the trees.

The sound cuts through the still night once more. It terrifies him, and he's faced actual monsters, head-on.

There's something unsettling about the sound.

But, he's also drawn to it. 

It feels like he's being called. Steve, Steve, Steve. Even if it sounds nothing like his name. It still feels like he's been spoken to directly, right in his head.

Steve wishes he could ignore it. He has no interest in fighting a big cat. Not tonight, not ever. 

But.

If it's instead something that's leaked out of the Upside Down, he'll have to deal with it.

The gates spit out monsters from time to time, and they take care of them when that happens. Demogorgons. Bats. New things. Contorted, twisted creatures that just stumble into their side, untethered, without Vecna to control them. 

They took care of Vecna, but the monsters that were in his arsenal somehow linger. They haven't found a way to collapse the Upside Down yet. They're trying. 

But, until then, monsters infiltrating their lives is the standard now. 

The phone rings.

Steve picks it up, peeking back out the curtain.

"Steven," the voice on the line says, and Steve tilts his head backwards. Annoyed.

"Mrs. Mills," he says. His closest neighbor.

"Can't you do something about that — thing?" she asks, and Steve sighs. The town, what remains anyway, quickly figured out that they are the ones to call. They are asked to give, give, give, more and more. Like they haven't done enough for Hawkins. He resents it. Terribly.

He doesn't say that, though. Instead, he just squeezes his eyes shut, "I can try. Let me round up help."

She hangs up, no thanks, no nothing. 

He slams the receiver back to the wall, "You're fucking welcome."

The screaming is more desperate, louder, and Steve knows she's not wrong. He's gonna have to take care of it before it wanders into the neighborhood.

He picks up his walkie, and gives the code. A shorthand they've all developed for where, what and then he just waits for help to arrive.

Gareth is first. Which is interesting. Folding in newbies still feels weird, but they needed help, and Eddie's friends were on their asses. So, now. They have to help. And shockingly, they have. 

By the time Nancy and Jonathan arrive, the sound has stopped. He may have gotten everybody out of bed for nothing.

"What kind of sound was it?" Nancy asks, and Steve describes it. It doesn't sound like anything they know.

"Maybe it was a bobcat?" Jonathan suggests, and Steve had thought the same.

"No, it was calling me in the driveway," Gareth says, and the three of them turn to look at him.

"What?" Nancy asks.

"Gareth, Gareth, Gareth," he chants, and a shiver rolls down Steve's spine. 

"That's—" Nancy starts, and Steve cuts her off.

"—exactly what I felt, too. Steve, Steve, Steve," Steve repeats. 

Everybody is quiet for a second.

"Well, that's not good," Jonathan finally says, and Steve couldn't agree more.

In the woods, armed to the teeth, it's quiet. The full moon gives them more light than they usually get this far past midnight, but there's nothing. No noise, no sounds, no nothing. 

Then, there's rustling, and they all go back-to-back, weapons raised. 

The scream that engulfs them is loud, right on top of them, and when Steve's pushed to the ground, nailbat knocked from his grasp, he grapples with the creature that's trying to wrap its hands around Steve's neck. Smelling like the Upside Down, and death. Blood. Long, stringy hair whipping around as it moves on top of him. 

It wins. Arms locked around Steve's neck, squeezing. 

Steve hears Nancy cock her shotgun.

And he grimaces, eyes pressed shut.

"No, wait! Don't!" Gareth yells, and Steve would argue, but he realizes he's not being killed.

He's being hugged. 

Steve, Steve, Steve.

This time, the voice is clearer, even if it's just rattling in his brain.

Eddie, Steve thinks.

And he's squeezed harder. 

"I'm okay!" Steve shouts, making sure Nancy is standing down.

"It's Eddie," Gareth says, and it is. Has to be. Some version of him, anyway. Changed, but clearly not ripping his neck out. Yet.

Wings flap, coming out of nowhere seemingly, and Steve makes a low sound. 

"Eddie," Nancy says, "let him up."

She's trying to put distance between him and whatever Eddie is, but Eddie screams. It's a bat noise, not a cat, just on a much larger scale.

Nancy huffs, "Don't tell me no. Get up."

And, Eddie does. He looks like Eddie, mostly, just filthy. 

Sorry, Eddie says in Steve's head.

"He's telescopic," Steve says, snapping his fingers, pointing.

"Telepathic," Nancy says as Eddie floats the word telepathic into his head at the same time.

"Telepathic," Steve corrects. 

Eddie's not as feral as he seemed, apparently.

Fucking rude, Eddie's voice vibrates in his head.

Great, just great, Eddie can read his thoughts.

Don't think anything you don't want him to hear, Steve tells himself.

It doesn't work.

Why's my dick hard? Sex, fucking, Eddie, Steve thinks in rapid succession.

Eddie's laugh echoes in his head. 

Maybe later, big boy. I need a shower first.

If you want to write your own, or go see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun! 🌕

Notes: Title from Everybody Scream by Florence + The Machine.

[steddieholidaydrabbles]

Welcome to another pop-up event! Maybe Steve and Eddie are dancing in the moonlight, maybe the moon is the only thing lighting their way, or they're transforming into werewolves. Your drabble should:

be 300-1000 words (checked in wordcounter.net)

tag this blog when posted so it can be added to the queue

be posted by 11:59 PM EST on September 1st

follow all other rules on the pinned post of the blog

ARTISTS

The submission must be made by 11:59 PM EST on September 1st in order to be reblogged by this blog. The image must be Steddie focused, though other characters can be included!

Collaborations with writers are encouraged!

[steddieholidaydrabbles]

Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles fourth of july "fireworks" prompt, @corrodedcoffinfest's "I know what you did last summer" prompt, AND @steddiebingo's prompt "starcourt mall" is that too many things in one? probably but it worked too perfectly (albeit loosely)

No Pressure

Word Count: 995 Rating: general audiences Tags: post vecna, everyone is alive and well and getting along, ptsd, mentions of russian torture, talk of stage fright/nerves, hints at medical issues/healing from injuries, pre-steddie, probably no obvious enough crushes, the word count really got me here AO3: coming soon

-

Hawkins had entered this period of rebirth. Some lame, middle of nowhere Phoenix that rose from the ashes of something that should have stayed dead. Eddie’s only hope was it got better. That the demons chased away the losers and left nothing but cool people. It wasn’t realistic but Eddie was trying.

Nothing revitalized an area more than capitalism though so the city planners started with Starcourt Mall. No one had a place to live but at least they’ll be able to spend the measly checks the government gave them all to “recover”.

Eddie had given private speech after private speech on the subject because it felt so tone deaf and backwards that he couldn’t be quiet. Any willing ear got to hear all about how bad of an idea this was. Wayne heard it several times.

Until they asked local-killer-turned-hero Eddie Munson to perform at the “ground breaking” ceremony. Then it was the greatest thing to ever happen to Hawkins. They weren’t going to know what to do. Especially after all the recovery and healing they’d gone through only to have Corroded Coffin melt their faces off.

Unfortunately, his own healing wasn’t far enough along to play guitar at the level he needed to. They’d either have to dial down the face melting or bring in a ringer. Eddie was open to either but first he needed to get Gareth and Freak back to the area.

Both had moved with their families before Eddie momentarily died and didn’t return after everything was deemed safe. It made the place kind of weird but what wasn’t weird after learning about other dimensions and losing friends?

After a bit of pressure, they agreed to come spend the week in Hawkins. Everyone could hang out, practice a bit, and then play a show. For a few days, life could feel normal again. Except the performing at a mall part. That was weird.

It’d be “selling out” were they on some stage by the food court but the mall wasn’t built so they’d be in the parking lot. The background would be piles of exploded consumerism and Orange Juliuses. One day it’d be filled with popular kids insulting freaks but before that, it was all Corroded Coffin’s.

The actual lame part came when they told Eddie and Jeff, the only two local enough to show up to planning meetings, that it would be on the Fourth of July. Something about reclaiming the date in the mall’s history or whatever.

Eddie didn’t hear them. He was too busy thinking about how it would decrease the crowd size. There wasn’t going to be a fair put on by the city this year, recovery was a long way from that, so this was going to make do for those who cared. The rest would be having family get togethers, going to nearby lakes, or camping. It was a busy weekend for people.

Yet when the day (finally) came, it didn’t look like the event organizers shared Eddie’s assumptions on attendance. There were folding chairs as far as the eye could see. Hopefully no one needed them but it was twice the crowd Eddie had been visualizing.

Eddie almost hoped he was right. Not that he’d voice that but looking out on all those chairs? Five hundred times what they normally played for, it was a little intimidating. Nothing he couldn’t handle, even with that sinking feeling in his stomach.

More intimidating than the show to come was the blending of two worlds in a way that hadn’t happened yet. Steve, Robin, Nancy, all of them welcomed Jeff in like he was one of their own, even if it was occasionally awkward when someone too casually mentioned what brought them together. Now it’d be all of them.

It’d be Corroded Coffin in all their we’ve-seen-Eddie-at-his-worst glory mixed with the we’ve-fought-bled-and-died-together magic of his new friends. It could go great or each one of his friendships could look like the mall behind him.

The band had been roaming the scene for an hour, familiarizing themselves with the stage, their plans, and how to deny they were experiencing stage fright. Steve and Robin were the first to show up and offer a distraction. Not surprising given Eddie practically lived at Steve’s these days but there’s always that part of Eddie that believed a little too hard that no one was coming.

“We had to come early,” Robin said, already annoyed.

Not a great start. It’s a bit more than the kind she usually turned on Steve and Eddie. This feels like his alone and he’s not sure why he’s to blame but he didn’t need this today so he ignored it.

“We didn’t have to,” Steve mocks.

Worse than recognizing Robin’s variety of annoyances was catching Steve’s whole thing where he doesn’t want anyone doing anything special for him. Unfortunately, that also meant this was the first Eddie was learning of the problem.

If Robin’s attitude was anything to go by, it’s Eddie’s fault that Steve felt this way. Maybe it’s his birthday. Surely that would have come up by now. The irony of a one time All-American good boy being born on the Fourth was too much for Eddie to accept, though.

“No, we definitely did.” Robin said and then with the comfort that came in the years since defeating Vecna, she turned to Eddie. “We were tortured here–”

“That’s putting it mildly,” Steve said, eyes flashing wide for a second.

“It’s definitely putting it mildly but it’s a weird place and a weird anniversary. Not one we like to relive.”

“True,” Steve sighed.

“So don’t blow it,” Robin said, ending the conversation as she walked away, Steve in tow.

“Shit.” Eddie dropped his head back. “No pressure, huh?”

Neither of them acknowledged it if they’d heard him but they didn’t need to. Eddie ran the opposite direction in hopes one of the other guys knew some vocal warm ups. He couldn’t blow this.

[steddieholidaydrabbles]

the first sparks

ao3 Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt, “fireworks,” 360 words. Rated G, Post-Canon, Pre/Developing Relationship, Robin & Eddie friendship

“Please don’t tell him?” Eddie tries.

Robin just looks at him. She’s sitting on the opposite bench in the booth they’re all sharing. The headlights from the parking lot glow softly through the window, lighting up her face like silent fireworks.

“Eddie,” she says slowly, like maybe the lights have illuminated something on his face instead. “Hey, I promised, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, but—” He watches as Steve makes his way back from the counter; shit, they don’t have long. “Like, I know it’s—I’m not—”

He can’t work out how to say that he knows there’s no secrets between Robin and Steve, and that’s fine, he gets it, that’s just, like, a law of the universe, but if she could just—just this once—

“Are you done with your shake?”

It’s so unexpected that Eddie can only nod, thoughts finally silenced. And Robin smiles like that had been the point, and puts her straw in the milkshake.

“Eddie, I promised,” she says again. Then, soft but firm, “You’re my friend, too.”

Eddie only has a couple seconds to compose himself before Steve’s sliding back into the booth—on his side, this time.

“What did I miss?”

“We were just talking about you,” Robin says, and Eddie shoots her a wild look before he realises what she’s doing: deflecting with the truth.

Steve laughs. “Wow, thanks. All good things?”

His hand lands on Eddie’s knee, warm, gentle pressure. Eddie relaxes into it, and the flippant reply comes easily.

“Eh, more fifty-fifty.”

Steve pushes Eddie away, but he comes back just as quick, their shoulders brushing together.

“You’re not getting any of my dessert, Eddie.”

“That’s good,” Robin says, “because I’m stealing both of yours.”

“Is that why you keep me around, extra portions?” Eddie says.

Steve chuckles, touches Eddie’s knee again.

“It’s one of the few perks,” Robin replies. She’s somehow already finished their trio of milkshakes.

And Eddie isn’t nearly fluent in Robin-ese just yet, but her smile is obvious. He doesn’t dare guess the meaning outright, even in his head, but he leans into Steve’s touches—and, for the first time in a long while, allows himself to feel a spark of hope. 

[steddieholidaydrabbles]

Signs

written for the @steddiemicrofic july prompt sign, inspired by the @steddieholidaydrabbles pop-up event prompt fireworks

wc: 507 | rated: M | tags: messy emotions, love confessions, first kiss, implied sexual content, friends to lovers | also on ao3

When their lips touch for the first time, Steve waits for a sign – sparkling fireworks behind his eyelids, a swarm of butterflies rioting in his stomach, his heart doing cartwheels behind his rib cage, anything.

Anything that tells him this is right.

That the feelings he has for Eddie are true, not some illusion selfishly born out of loneliness.

That he wants this, wants Eddie to be more than what he is, because whatever they have runs deeper than friendship.

That he wasn't stupid for seeking Robin's advice, letting her talk him through this mess of emotions he failed to sort out on his own, planting this idea of 'You'll never know, unless you try' in his mind.

But there are no fireworks.

No butterflies.

No acrobatic stunts performed in his chest.

The world doesn't stop spinning.

Time doesn't slow.

No one pulls the metaphorical rug from beneath his feet in what he thought would be a life altering moment.

Eddie kisses him and Steve feels like crying because it's nothing like he thought it would be. Doesn't come close to what he dreamed of in the solitude of his bedroom, wondering, hoping, longing.

Maybe he made a mistake.

Was looking for the wrong signs all along.

Because this is so much better.

Eddie kisses him and suddenly, there's silence. No more voices in the back of his mind telling him he's not worth it, not good enough, not made to be loved.

Suddenly, Steve stands a little taller and feels a little lighter, relieved from the pressure of uncertainty and fear of rejection.

Eddie kisses him and suddenly, everything clicks into place. Up is up and down is down, and nothing feels strange or new because kissing Eddie is what he should've done forever ago.

They kiss and they touch and the world keeps turning in its usual pace because nothing has changed – because this is how it was always supposed to be.

They touch and they stumble, tripping over their own feet into an unmade bed, impatient limbs entangled in stubborn clothes that don’t seem to understand the urgency of the matter – they’ve got lost times to make up for, so many moments wasted with too much distance between them when they could've been close, could've been one.

   “Fucking- God, Steve. Can’t believe this is real.”

   “That I love you?”

   “That I get to love you.”

The words hit Steve with a wave of unprecedented happiness that’s building and building until it breaks and takes him under, drowning him in light that comes from within.

   “Kiss me again,” Steve demands, his words dripping with desire.

He can't stop now, needs more.

Eddie's mouth is hot on his skin, leaving invisible burn marks all over his trembling body. Shaken with lust, overcome with need for all of Eddie's attention.

They kiss and they touch and they fuck, spilling cum streaked confessions - messy, and perfect, and whole.

Falling apart in each other's love.

No other signs needed but Eddie's heartbeat matching his own.

[steddieholidaydrabbles]

Neverland - chapter 3

Written for the July 2025 pop-up challenge of the @steddieholidaydrabbles and also for the A Splash of Summer bonus card of the @steddiebingo

Prompt: Fireworks Rated: T Tags: Cruise ship AU; Musician Eddie; Kids' entertainer Steve; Steve in a dress; Sexual tension; Horny disaster Eddie Munson Note: Read the previous parts here.

Eddie doesn’t see Dustin again for a few days, but much like a certain Tinkerdude, the little guy keeps running through his mind. He knows how it feels to never quite fit it, and what vicious bullies kids can be. So he worries. He thinks it’s only natural. 

It’s also, as it turns out, completely unnecessary, because when he spots the brood on deck with Steve and Robin at the big Moonlight Soiree marking the halfway point of the cruise, Dustin is right there, laughing and joking with the other ankle biters.

One of the cruise managers - a sour-faced, freckled guy who probably thinks he looks smart in his all-white uniform with the fucking shoulder flaps - calls after him as he hops off the stage and gestures for the rest of the band to wait. 

“Hey, where do you think you’re going? The fireworks start in five minutes and you’re supposed to provide background-” 

Eddie ignores him. His chances of landing a repeat gig with the Harrington Line are looking slim as it is, so he doesn’t exactly see the point of being on his best behavior. 

Robin sees him approach first. She turns to Steve, who has his back turned, and says something. Eddie can’t make out words over the buzz of the crowd, but Steve punches her in the arm and blushes a violent red, all the way down to the spaghetti straps of his little green dress. It makes him look a bit like a traffic light. A sexy traffic light. Eddie doesn’t pause to examine what that thought says about him. 

“Well, it’s true,” Robin says as he gets into earshot. “I’ll get them off you, no need to thank me. Good evening, fine sir!” 

She tips her Peter Pan hat and ushers the kids off to somewhere near the railing, probably to secure them a good spot for the fireworks. 

“What did you do?” Eddie hisses the second they're out of earshot. Steve turns to him. The blush has faded to a dark pink. “Oh, that?” he says, and does a slow twirl, showing off his muscled back and delicate tulle wings. “It was my free afternoon yesterday, so I hit the sundeck. What’s the point in being on a cruise if you don’t work on that tan, right?” 

Eddie, who would probably burn to a pile of ashes the second he set foot on the sundeck, nods distractedly. Steve’s tan has, in fact, deepened - the caramel undertones of his skin are even more pronounced now, bringing out the golden specks in his eyes and the newly formed blond highlights in his windswept hair, and wait, stop, that’s not why he came over! 

“That’s not what I meant!” he blurts. Steve stops in the middle of his second twirl and turns back around, head tilted. “I meant the kids! Dustin! Last time I saw him, you practically had to drag him back by the ear, and now they’re- … How did you do this?” 

Steve shrugs. It makes one strap of the dress slip a little. He doesn’t push it back up. “Kids are social creatures at their core. I sat them down and reminded them that it’s our differences that make us strong, and how we should value each other’s uniqueness rather than condemning it. I also may have mentioned that bullies are a certain crocodile’s favorite food, but that’s neither here nor there.” 

Eddie stares. Steve raises a brow. 

“I don’t believe you,” Eddie whispers, trying to keep his face solemn, even though one corner of his mouth is spasming violently. “You're a fiend! A fairy and a fiend, oh my God!” 

“Steve is fine,” says Steve. “And for the record, I think I'm allowed some fiendishness. As compensation for having to wear this stupid thing. I should be entitled to, like one complementary fiendery a day.” 

He puts his hands on his hips, all fake affront. Eddie isn't sure what to look at first. The way the dress rides up his freshly bronzed thighs? The way the shimmery fabric stretches tight over his chest? The way his eyes light up with barely concealed mirth, outsparkling his wings and the moonlight bouncing off the ocean? 

He doesn't know, but what he does know is that he's fucked. Fucked beyond hope, because not only is the guy drop dead gorgeous and sassy and funny and looks spectacular in a skirt, he's also good with kids and a hopeless dork? How is Eddie supposed to resist that? 

Not at all, that's how. 

“Eddie?” Steve murmurs. “I think you should  …” 

“Hm?” Eddie hums. There's a smattering of fresh freckles on Steve’s nose, mingling with the small and large moles. Eddie wants to count them with his lips and tongue. See if they taste like saltwater and sunscreen. “What should I do?” 

He leans in. 

And that's when the first fireworks burst in the night sky. 

“Oh shit,” Eddie curses. “I need to- … I gotta-...” 

“It's okay,” Steve beams. The lights bounce off his skin, starbursts of purple and red and blue. “We’ll pick it back up next time. Go get them.” 

He shoves Eddie lightly in the chest, and he whirls, flying towards the stage as if propelled by fairy dust. There must be magic at play because he only almost brains himself once on the deck and once on an amplifier as he trips onto the stage. Ignoring the manager's outraged shrieks and his band mates’ glares, he slings his guitar over his shoulders and launches into the dreadful slow jazz piece they're supposed to be playing. 

Nobody even notices the delay. Everyone is too busy tilting their heads into their necks and oooh-ing and aaaah-ing at the colorful lights in the sky. 

Except for one pair of eyes, at the very edge of the crowd. Eddie can feel them on himself for the entirety of his performance. They’re the only ones that matter, anyhow. 

More holiday drabbles More Steddie Bingo

[steddieholidaydrabbles]

Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles.

a little singed

Pop-Up Prompt: Fireworks | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Mention of Eddie's Drug Dealing, Language | Tags: Pre-Steddie, Set S3, Missing Scene(s) in "The Battle of Starcourt", Hurt/Comfort, Steve Knows They Need More Firepower

"We need to make a pit stop," Steve says, and Robin looks dubious.

"We don't have time for whatever you're distracted by. Focus," she shouts over the air rushing around them in the convertible. He's speeding.

Time or not, they need more firepower. Sinclair's idea was good, damn good, but a couple crates of grocery store fireworks aren't gonna cut it.

They need the big guns.

"We're here! See? It's on our way!"

Steve yanks the wheel, turning off into the trailer park, skidding across the gravel as he comes to a sliding stop in front of Eddie Munson's place. 

If anyone has the good shit, the illegal shit, it's Eddie Munson.

Steve bangs on the door, and when Eddie yanks it open, he's pissed. 

"Who the fuck—"

Then, his face softens. 

"Harrington. What happened to your face? Whose car is that?" Eddie asks, taking a step out onto the porch.

"Nothing, I'm fine. Don't worry about it. Listen, do you have any fireworks? Big fireworks, the bigger the better."

"Uh, I'm not sure—"

"Now! Please," Steve pleads, and for some reason, Eddie listens, retreating back inside.

Steve follows, and Eddie starts digging under his bed. He pulls out a trunk, and flips the lid. It's his good stash, apparently. Weed, and some pills, a knife, but underneath it is a box filled with explosives.

Jackpot. He knew it was Eddie that set them off at graduation.

"Harrington, I don't feel good about this," Eddie says, but Steve doesn't have time to listen.

Steve reaches in, grabbing the box, "They took my wallet. You know I'm good for it."

And he will pay up. If he lives.

He tosses the box in the backseat of The Todfather, pulling away as Eddie Munson watches them go.

"What'd Eddie Munson have that we needed?" Robin asks, leaning over the seat to look.

"Explosives," Steve says, flooring it as they turn, hitting the pavement.

It's over. They won, but it was bad, worse than last time. 

After showering and getting his spare set of keys, he heads back to Eddie Munson's house. Eddie's sitting on the porch couch, smoking.

Steve steps out of his car, and Eddie's staring at him as he climbs the steps, sitting down beside him, cash in hand.

"Did you blow up the mall?" Eddie asks.

Steve lies, "Nah. How much do I owe you?"

"Harrington," Eddie says, clearly not believing him. 

"You don't want to know, man. Trust me," Steve says, reaching over to take Eddie's lit cigarette from his hand, pulling a deep drag into his lungs. Anything to keep his mouth shut. The truth serum is still itching to make him spill everything he's ever known. Not enough to actually do it, but there's a hum of tell him buzzing in his brain.

He's not telling him.

It's been a long fucking night.

It's been a long couple years.

He tilts his head back, and rests it against the couch cushion. It sort of smells like mildew and weed. He closes his eyes, and the last thing Steve feels is Eddie's fingers brushing his, taking back the lit cigarette.

When Steve jolts awake, it's to the sound of gunfire.

"It's just the kids over there, shooting off the last of their fireworks," Eddie says, and Steve's heart is hammering in his chest. His whole body aches. He groans, and isn't sure he can move. He shouldn't have sat down, he shouldn't have stopped moving.

The sun has set, and that means he's been sleeping on Eddie Munson's porch all day. 

Munson has a binder on his lap, pencil scratching notes. 

"You should have woken me," Steve says.

Eddie just shrugs, "Seemed like you needed the sleep."

Yeah, he did. But now he's so stiff. He didn't realize how bad it was until now. Pay Eddie, and get the fuck out of here, that's what he needs to do. But he just can't make his body move. The couch is broken down, and he's sunken into it. It's comfortable, he just doesn't think he can stand up from this position.

He's beginning to think he may have to slide off the couch, roll onto his knees, and push himself up that way.

Testing the waters, he tries to scoot towards the edge of the couch, and every muscle in his body is screaming at him to stop doing that. 

Eddie stands easily, and Steve's jealous of him. 

"Give me a minute," Steve says, and he moves to push his hands into the cushions. Determined to just power through the pain.

"Here," Eddie says, and offers him both hands, and Steve takes them, letting Eddie pull him to his feet.

He takes a tentative step, then another. He feels a thousand years old. 

"Goddamnit," Steve says, and braces himself against the support pole.

"You've really been put through the wringer, huh?" Eddie says, and holds open the back door. Steve follows, entering the little hallway right by Eddie's room. He didn't get a good look at it last night, too focused on the explosives. 

It's filled with posters and drawings and a guitar mounted over the mirror. Handcuffs on long chains, hanging on the wall.

It feels so chaotic. Just like Eddie Munson. 

"Over here," Eddie says, and Steve follows. In the kitchen, Eddie pulls two mugs out of the dish drainer, and starts a pot of coffee. Then he starts digging in the icebox. Pulling out a carton of eggs, some bacon, and Steve sits at the little table. Knowing it'll be easier to get up from than another couch.

Steve stares down at his hands. They hurt, a little singed from the fireworks. 

"You okay?"

Eddie's looking at him with big, wide eyes.

"Yeah," Steve answers, and thinks it's at least eighty percent true.

"Okay then," Eddie says, spatula in hand, "The fireworks are gonna cost ya, but the breakfast is free with purchase."

Steve laughs, and that sounds like a pretty good deal to him.

If you want to write your own, or go see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun! 🎆

[steddieholidaydrabbles]

kaboom

for @steddieholidaydrabbles popup event prompt 'fireworks'

rated t | 896 words | cw: injury | tags: fireworks, established relationship, hurt/comfort, steve has ptsd

also on ao3

🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆🎆

Steve doesn’t like fireworks, but at least he’s over the sheer panic he used to feel every time they went off. He usually stays inside when they happen, has music playing as a distraction. Last year, he managed to sit outside while Dustin and Mike set off a few small ones in his backyard.

This year, Eddie’s insisting on putting on a whole show. There’s not enough people in town to care about their illegal fireworks, and even if there were, Hopper would write it off. He made them swear they’d be careful and Eddie grinned as he held out his pinky and said he’d only explode things in an open space.

He’s timed everything to music. Steve is in charge of pressing play at the right time and switching tapes at Eddie’s cue. They practice with Eddie making loud explosion sounds and Steve manages to get it mostly right.

The kids are all sitting on towels in the yard, waiting for the show. All the adults are standing by the house, just in case they need to call 911 to put out a fire. Steve is watching Eddie walk through his set up one more time to make sure he has everything in the right place.

When it starts, everything is perfect. The kids clap and cheer. Even Hopper smiles and pulls Joyce close to him as they admire the first set of shimmering explosions.

Even the first song transition goes well, and Eddie gives him a wink and blows him a kiss. Steve rolls his eyes but pretends to catch it and holds it to his chest, just like he always does.

And then Eddie lights the second set.

It’s fine for the first second. Everything seems normal.

And then a loud pop echoes around them and Eddie yells out.

“Fuck!”

Steve stops the music immediately. No one else seems to think anything bad’s happened, but Steve knows that voice, that tone.

He hears it in nightmares: the pained yelp that comes just before too much blood and no help and-

“Eddie!” Max’s voice startles Steve from his panic. She’s standing, but El pulls her back down as Hopper rushes over to Eddie.

He’s watching Hopper check him over, frozen to his spot on the ground. He wants to move, wants to help. Whatever is happening can’t be good for Eddie to risk his show.

“He’s okay,” Joyce is saying quietly in his ear, her hand rubbing his back. “Burned his hand. The firework was faulty. He’s gonna be fine.”

He nods, but he still feels paralyzed.

At some point in the last year, he’s gotten comfortable. He hasn’t had to rush to defend his loved ones since El saved them all. The nail bat is so far back in his closet, he doesn’t even know if he can get to it.

But a nail bat won’t protect Eddie from a faulty firework. He knows that, but he’s still wracked with guilt.

“Steve. Baby.” Steve looks up to see Eddie holding a cold beer can to his hand. “I should probably get some ointment on the blisters and get a real ice pack. Can you help?”

“Yeah,” Steve chokes out. “Sorry. I can help.”

Hopper is standing just behind Eddie, giving him a sad smile. As Steve stands to accompany Eddie inside, he hears him telling the kids the show is over, but there’s plenty more popsicles and sodas to indulge in.

Once they’re in the bathroom, alone, Eddie kisses him softly.

“I’m okay,” he reassures. “Gonna leave a nasty scar on my thumb, but I don’t think another scar is gonna make much of a difference.”

Steve nods as he pulls out his first aid kit. He’s used to cleaning up blood, or icing a bruise, or pulling a stinger out of a hand or arm. This is different and he’s going in a little blind.

Eddie takes the ointment from the kit and holds it out to Steve. “This first. Use more than you think you should.”

“You seem to know a lot about how to handle burns,” Steve says as he does what Eddie told him to do. He still feels a little like he’s just going through the motions, but at least he can help. “Do this often?”

“Used to play with matches and lighters a lot as a kid. Nothing serious ever happened, but Wayne was usually at work so I had to figure it out.” Eddie hisses when Steve rubs along the edges of the blister. “This may be the worst one. Now gauze and wrap it tight.”

Eddie winces as Steve finishes up.

He kisses his hand gently, then shakes his head.

“Maybe we leave the fireworks to the professionals next year?” Steve asks him.

“But my show was gonna be so good!” Eddie stomps his foot. “I just have to check them all better first. This was a freak accident. Won’t happen again.”

Steve raises his brow and lets out a breath. “I don’t think I want you to risk it. You wanna go have a popsicle?”

Eddie smirks. “You just wanna see me licking something.”

Steve shrugs. “I’d love a distraction from what just happened and nothing gets me more distracted than your tongue.”

“Fine, but only if I get to use my tongue on you later,” Eddie winks and shuffles out of the bathroom.

[steddieholidaydrabbles]

Welcome to another pop-up event! Whether you want to write about Steve's season 3 trauma, Eddie having fireworks explode behind him during a guitar solo, or fireworks happening for their first kiss, this pop-up prompt should sparkle! Your drabble should:

be 300-1000 words (checked in wordcounter.net)

tag this blog when posted so it can be added to the queue

be posted by 11:59 PM EST on July 4th

follow all other rules on the pinned post of the blog

ARTISTS

The submission must be made by 11:59 PM EST on July 4th in order to be reblogged by this blog. The image must be Steddie focused, though other characters can be included!

Collaborations with writers are encouraged!

[steddieholidaydrabbles]

INFORMATION & FAQ

Hello, welcome to paradise the place where you'll have your questions answered!

PROMPTS LIST

Why? WHY? I wanted to complete the set! We have sub Eddie & Dom Eddie week, and I participate in both, but I'd say a great majority of my stories him end up with him—and his partner(s)—as a switch.

What is a Switch? A Switch is someone who enjoys more than one kind of role or dynamic within BDSM play. (Please be aware: this is separate than enjoying the sexual roles of both topping and bottoming. The word you're looking for is Versatile! Topping/bottoming can mean similar things in BDSM, such as a Rope Top or a rope bottom, but that's still not the sexual roles.)

What are the rules here? First of all, this blog is 18+ only. This is a BDSM themed challenge and therefore the whole blog should be considered as for adults only. Other than that, the only thing I ask is that you write about Eddie (and his partner(s) if you'd like) being a switch! You don't necessarily have to write at least two scenes, one where he subs and one where he Doms, but his thoughts and feelings about being a switch should be present. It should be a part of his life experience, or of the POV character's experience of him. Any Eddie pairing is allowed. He can even be by himself, if you want. Any kind of writing and art is allowed. Any prompt is allowed on any day of the week, I just have them for specific days as a guide. You don't have to use the prompts either, though I'm interested to see what people come up with for them. You can combine this with other events. You can post late too, I'll still reblog it. You'll just miss getting added to the masterlist at the end of the event. Posts are due by JUNE 28TH, 11:59:59 AKDT (UTC/GMT-8) to be included! And lastly, anyone being an asshole will be blocked, because I don't want to ruin the experience of everyone else trying to have a fun time here! (This includes top/bottom or Dom/sub discourse. This is not the time, not the place, and I'm so not the person for that.) As you can see, the rules are very lenient with the timing/creative side of things, but this is something I take seriously. With that said, I'm sure there'll be no problems, this fandom has a lot of really good people in it!

How should I format my post? First, if you want me to see it and reblog it, you have to tag me. Otherwise I'll miss it unless you happen to know a very speedy carrier pigeon. Please include Pairing, Rating, Prompts, and any Content Warning Tags. Other than that you can do what you like! If you've got more questions, send me an ask!

[steddieholidaydrabbles]

Steddie Holiday Drabbles School's Out For Summer Pop Up Masterlist

Thank you to all who participated in the May pop up event! We love seeing all of your contributions to the challenge! Please check out the masterlist for this event and all future events this year:

Steddie Holiday Drabbles Pop Up Events 2025

Can't wait to see you all back for the next pop up event on July 4th for some fireworks (literal and otherwise 😉)!

[steddieholidaydrabbles]

Enlighten Me

AO3 | written for @steddieholidaydrabbles pop-up event - prompt school's out for summer | rating: g | wc: 997 | cw: none | tags: post-s4, everyone lives, steve pov, pre-steddie, platonic stobin, besties eddie and robin and steve, eddie munson is a flirt, just mostly fluff and banter

“You know, I kind of wish it had fallen into the void like most of the town did.” Eddie grumbles, sitting on the trunk of the bimmer, crutches leaned against the side of the car.

“Oh, absolutely. That would’ve saved me from Mr. Denson’s bullshit chem final.” Robin sighs, legs crossed beneath her where she’s sat beside Eddie.

“Hey, at least you passed Dickhead Denson’s final, Buckley.”

“You did too!” 

“I didn’t pass shit and we all know it.” Eddie falls onto his back with a thump that makes Steve wince, but Eddie waves him off. “They just took pity on me after three tries and, oh, I don’t know, forming a witch hunt after me.”

Robin throws her head back and groans loud enough that several people milling about the lot turn toward them. Steve glares at the gawkers where he’s leaned against the side of the car until they all turn away.

“There was no pity involved, you piece of shit. You had the grades before the spring break from hell. All Hopper did was,” Robin wrings her hands in her lap, cocks her head, “kindly tell them that you had clearly shown your intellectual prowess enough to get your diploma.”

Eddie chuckles. “Hopper? Kindly? Yeah, next time you wanna lie to my face, Buckley, choose better adjectives.”

“Munson, I swear–”

“I just can’t believe they still forced finals on everyone after everything.” Steve squints against the setting sun, arms crossed across his chest. “You’d think the town, I don’t know, splitting open and, like, a quarter of the student body just,” he throws his hands up, makes a poof gesture, “disappearing would make them waive the rest of the year, or whatever, for everyone.”

“You have far too much faith in the American education system, my dear Stevie.” Eddie laments. 

They fall into silence, staring at the school that they’d spent far too many years, and, for Steve, far too much Upside Down related bullshit, in. People are slowly drifting out to their cars, laughing, hugging, talking about summer plans, which Steve finds kind of laughable himself considering summer in Hawkins has never been anything to celebrate, and even less so now with the state of everything. He watches as the cars pull away one by one, until all that’s left are the three of them and a few displaced graduation caps and tassels across the lot.

Steve turns to look at Eddie, the setting sun casting him in a beautiful shade of orange. “You did earn your diploma, by the way, Eddie.”

“Oh, don’t you go lyin’ to me too, now, sweetheart.”

Robin laughs. “Oh, yeah, he’s not. I think he’s basically incapable. He’s like, so bad, it’s honestly hilarious. There was one time, Jessica Randal came in asking him on a date and–”

Steve slams his hand across her mouth. “Robin!”

Eddie perks up, props up on his elbows. “Oh? Do tell, Buckley. What did our dear Stevie do when faced with the visage of Jessica Randal?” 

“I will buy you both your celebration dinners if you shut up right now and never bring this up again.” Steve spits out, glaring at both of them in the process. 

“Is my, what was it, ‘intellectual prowess,’ only worth a singular dinner, sweetheart?” Eddie hums. “I don’t know, this Jessica Randal story seems to be worth a bit more than that.”

Steve sighs. “What do you want, Eddie?”

“From you? Oh, Stevie, you have no idea.” Eddie chuckles, his tongue slipping out to wet his lips. Steve tracks the movement almost subconsciously, watches as the oranges and yellows of the sunset glisten across Eddie’s lips, making them, like, goddamn sparkle, or some shit. Eddie chuckles, catches his eye.

Steve swallows thickly, tries to will back some of his former confidence in his response. “Ye–yeah? Care to enlighten me?” Yep, super confident there, Steve. Good job.

Eddie’s eyes glint as he pulls himself up to sitting. He leans forward, snakes a finger through Steve’s belt loop, and tugs slightly. “Oh, I’ll enlighten you any night of the week, big boy.”

Just then, Steve feels something hot and wet on his hand, followed by teeth sharp enough to make him jump back with a yelp. “What the hell?”

Robin wipes her mouth off on her gown. “Can you two not obnoxiously flirt in front of me? At least let me rack in that free post-grad dinner first.” She jumps down, walks over and opens the passenger door, chucks her graduation cap and gown into the floorboard.

“Uh, wh– flirting?” Steve stammers, looking between them. Robin stares back unimpressed. Eddie smirks.

“Yes, Steve, flirting, which you two can do over dinner, because if you don’t put food in me right now, I think I might explode. Why is graduation so long?” Robin slumps into the car, slamming the door behind her.

“Don’t slam the fucking door just because you’re mad at graduation!” Steve yells. Robin flips him off through the window. 

Eddie laughs, grabs his crutches, and drops down to the ground. Steve helps him to the back door, moves to open it, but Eddie stops him. Steve lifts his brow in question. 

Eddie leans forward and hesitantly kisses Steve on the cheek. “In case it wasn’t clear, I am 100% flirting with you, sweetheart. Have been, in fact. You gonna do somethin’ about it?” Eddie pulls back, a shaky grin to his face as he opens the door and slides into the backseat, crutches tossed into the floorboard with his cap and gown. Robin and Eddie immediately launch into a debate over where Steve should take them to celebrate.

Steve shuts the back door, a dazed look to his eye as he moves to the driver’s door and slides into the car. As he leaves the lot, Hawkins High nothing more than a memory, he catches Eddie’s eye in the rearview mirror and smiles. 

Maybe there’s some things worth getting excited for this summer, after all.

tags: @sunshine-daydreams0809 @saramelaniemoon

divider credit: @saradika-graphics

thanks for reading :))

[steddieholidaydrabbles]

and watch this feeling rolling in

ao3 Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt, “school’s out for summer,” 942 words. Rated G, Missing Scene, pre season 3, last day of senior year

The bricks are warm against Steve’s back. He shifts his position, stretches his legs out some more. The school parking lot is practically empty; he’d watched as bit by bit everyone left, the giddy promise of summer in the air, until the excited cries and last minute party arrangements faded into nothing. The janitor gave him a weird look as he was locking up, but Steve just waved, and that seemed to give enough reassurance that he wasn’t gonna set fire to the school when no-one was looking.

Now there’s just… quiet. He knows there’ll be a great sunset later; the sky’s already streaked with pink, like it’s anticipating the moment, too.

Footsteps approaching: he can tell from the way the shoes scuff against the ground that it’s another student. Well—he glances down at the English notebook in his lap, the last few pages unused, unneeded—he’s not a student anymore.

The footsteps come to a stop. Steve doesn’t look, not until a shadow blocks his perfect spot in the sun.

“Dude, move,” he says reflexively—it’s not a challenge, not really.

“You move,” Eddie Munson returns, but there’s equally no bite to the words, like maybe the school day has sapped his energy. “I had a whole brooding atmosphere going on, Harrington, you’re ruining it.”

Who says I’m not brooding? Steve thinks. He makes a half-hearted effort to move and pretends that he’s glued to the wall. “Sorry, man. Guess I’m stuck here forever.”

Eddie’s mouth twitches at one corner. He laughs through an exhale, as if it’s snuck out almost without him noticing.

“Last look?” he asks knowingly.

Steve shrugs. “Sure.”

“Yeah, been there.” Eddie gives a sardonic smile. “Over and over. Seriously, this is my ritual, get your own.”

But he doesn’t mean it; Steve can see that from a mile away.

“You gonna sit down or what?”

After a second or two, Eddie does. They sit side by side, just existing in the quiet, and Steve hopes that Eddie’s come to the same understanding as him, that there’s no audience here, if only so he’ll relax. But when he looks over, Eddie’s back is still a little stiff against the wall.

“D’you think,” Steve starts, and Eddie raises his head curiously as if despite himself, “that today’s kind of an anti-climax?”

“Oh, yeah,” Eddie says with a sudden eagerness, like he can’t believe someone’s been thinking the same thing all along. “Like, what’s up with that? I swear, last year, even when I pretended that I’d actually, y’know, it still felt, like, that’s it?” Eddie sighs. “Guess that’s what graduation’s for.”

Steve doesn’t think so. He already knows what’s in store for graduation: parents and kids having to pretend like they know how to be around each other. It’s not the kind of ending he’s searching for.

“You’re quiet,” Eddie says, as if faintly surprised.

Steve raises an eyebrow. “You’re loud.”

Eddie laughs, and as he does, his shoulders finally relax. “That’s fair. Not—not always, though.”

“No,” Steve agrees, but he’d mostly prefer to forget such times; a quiet Eddie Munson typically occurs after harsh words, whether from a teacher or a student, that have plainly, for whatever reason, caught him off-guard.

Eddie indicates the notebook in Steve’s lap. “You got a souvenir?”

Steve idly flicks through the pages. “It’s for English. Almost left it—”

“That’s not your handwriting,” Eddie says, pointing at a page with neat blue print, I’s dotted with hearts, and before Steve can even make a quip about how nothing gets past him, he adds, “Preserving your love letters?”

Steve can’t help it; he laughs. Draws out a low, amused, “Jesus.”

“Hey, what? What did I say?”

“Do they have to be love letters?”

“I—” Eddie pauses, then says carefully, “I guess not?”

Steve shakes his head with a smile. It’s a girl’s handwriting, but they’re not love letters or whatever else Eddie’s dreamed up. It’s feedback on one of his stories from a girl in his English class, the only other person who was submitting a portfolio. Steve recalls the fleeting hope of last September, back when he thought he actually had a chance at…

Eddie’s scrambling for his bag, bringing out his own notebook like it’s a peace offering. “I see where I’m going wrong,” he says, faux gravely, “you’re writing all of that, and I’m—”

He thumbs quickly through the notebook in demonstration. Steve’s eye is drawn to the top of each page, where a little stick figure runs across like it’s in a choppy silent film.

“Impressive,” Steve says, and underneath the joke, he means it. I know you’re really trying, dude, you don’t have to pretend.

Maybe some of his thoughts show on his face, because Eddie looks down while he puts the notebook back in his bag, as if suddenly shy. “I—I better go, my uncle—he works nights so we, um, eat kinda—”

“Cool,” Steve says. “I’ll see you around.”

Eddie shoots him a disbelieving look even while he smiles back. “Oh, sure, like you’re not gonna ditch this place immediately.”

As Eddie walks away, it occurs to Steve that Eddie’s mistakenly assumed he’s leaving Hawkins. He’s only ever told Nancy that he hadn’t got into college, and she’s clearly not spread it around.

With a soft pang he can’t quite explain, Steve calls across, “You assume a lot.”

“Huh?” Eddie says, a hand to his ear.

Steve just waves. “Never mind.”

And it’s still too early for a sunset, but he finds he’s glad that he can see Eddie’s distant silhouette lit up exactly like this. Thinks that, just maybe, he’s not been searching for an ending at all.

and they wouldn’t know what to do with themselves so they wouldn’t do anything except listen to the songs in their heads which were sad ones like nearly all good songs and watch this feeling rolling in, sunshine or rain, we don’t know yet, it’s a good one, it’s the best one, though it has no name. —Emily Berry, No Name

[steddieholidaydrabbles]

if this is a rom-com, kill the director

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles School's Out For Summer PopUp Event/ prompt: lake and as fill for the @steddiebingo prompt: forced proximity

wc: 1.000 | rated: T | tags: Best Friends Steve&Robin, Background Robin/Vickie, (Unintentional) Meddling, Not Actually Unrequited Love, kind of Open Ending but with Implied Friends To Lovers | also on ao3

    ‘It's gonna be so much fun,’ she’d said. ‘We’re gonna have the best time!’

What Robin didn't say, however, was that her aunt's lake house only has two bedrooms. Which would’ve been fine had they stuck to the original plan.

But what his best friend also forgot to tell him, was that he'd be sharing a room with Eddie.

Eddie, who'd not been mentioned once when planning their little trip out of town.

It was only ever about them, until Vickie decided to tag along. Which is- great. Wonderful even. Because what could be better than spending some time crammed into a small house by a lake in the middle of nowhere, to hopefully give the girls a chance to finally stop dancing around each other and acknowledge their very obvious, mutual crush?

He wouldn’t have minded being the third wheel but apparently, Robin had other ideas. Invited Eddie to join them without including Steve in the decision.

    ‘Oops, haha. Thought I’d told you.’

He knows she meant well, but amongst all the glorious ideas she’s had in the past, this one is absolutely the worst.

Steve would've preferred not going over having to spend 72 hours in forced proximity with that guy. Would’ve chosen to stay home alone and mope about it rather than being stuck here with him of all people.

Eddie is... he's nice, okay?

He's kind, and funny, and it never gets boring when he's around. He's chaos personified but never annoying, can make Steve laugh even on his worst days.

Steve likes him.

A lot.

More than he dares to admit even to himself.

And that is the problem.

Because it’s one thing to pretend and fake nonchalance when they’re back home. But here, amidst nothing beautiful nature, away from the suffocating restrictions of their small-town life, it’s suddenly so much harder to keep his feelings in check.

Hard to keep his eyes from wandering. Not to let them linger on the guy lying flat on his stomach in nothing but swim shorts right next to Steve. Hair tied up in a bun, still wet from his dip in the lake, now basking in the afternoon heat.

Here, unsupervised and undistracted, abandoned by his best friend who’s currently wooing her future wife by making her a flower crown, it’s hard for Steve not to let his mind drift. Not to wonder what it would feel like to let his fingers graze over Eddie’s sun-warmed skin. To press his lips against the nape of his neck, his shoulders. To kiss away the drippy trail of lake water and sweat trickling down his spine.

And it’s impossible not to fall a little more in love when they’re sitting by the campfire, later, after the first day’s sun has set. Listening to Eddie softly strum the guitar in his lap, singing folk songs his uncle taught him while the girls talk amongst themselves, huddled together under a shared blanket. Pretending to watch the dancing flames when really, all he can focus on is the man across from him.

Eventually, Robin and Vickie say their goodnights and head inside, holding hands and giggling like stupid teenagers in love.

Steve smiles, is happy for them despite the pang of jealousy he feels when he watches them leave. Robin deserves all the love in the world but is it bad to want a bit of the same for himself?

   “May I?” Eddie asks, pointing to the empty space next to him.

Steve hadn’t noticed he’d gotten up, was too lost in his thoughts.

   “Yeah, sure.”

Eddie sits and for a while, they don’t talk. Steve keeps his eyes on the night sky – prettiest he’s ever seen – counting stars and clouds until Eddie finally breaks the deafening silence.

   “It’s really beautiful out here,” he says quietly and Steve answers with a hum.

His eyes dart down to find Eddie already looking back at him, a soft smile on his lips that Steve wants to taste.

   “Had a great day today,” he says instead of what else is on his mind, “Love spending time with you.”

   “Yeah, me too,” Eddie agrees and Steve isn’t sure to which part, hopes it’s both.

The fire is slowly dying, greedy flames eating away at the few remaining pieces of wood, and although the air is still warm, Steve shivers.

   “Are you cold?”

Without waiting for an answer, Eddie grabs the girls’ forgotten blanket and wraps it around both their shoulders, scoots closer and loops one arm around Steve’s middle.

   “Better?” he asks and Steve can only nod, can’t speak, not with his heart beating so hard he can feel it in his throat.

If this were a rom-com, right now would be the moment they'd share their first kiss, one of many more to come.

But that’s not what happens because this isn’t a movie. It’s his life. Miserable and loveless and-

   “Is, uh, this okay?” Eddie breaks through his spiralling thoughts, a slight tremble in his voice like he’s nervous, unsure, and- oh.

Of course he would be, touching Steve like that. Eddie doesn’t know how much he longs for this. How much Steve enjoys his closeness.

   “Yes,” he whispers and rests his head on Eddie’s shoulder just to feel a little more of him. “I like to be held.”

    By you, he keeps to himself because that would be too revealing, too much of a confession. He’s already said more than he ever allowed to let slip before – a little too honest, a little too needy.

But Eddie doesn’t seem to mind. Because he pulls Steve even closer, fingers slipping under the hem of his shirt, drawing small, circular patterns into his side. Along his ribs and down his back, exploring more of his skin with every gentle stroke, driving Steve wild with tenderness.

   "Eddie?" The remaining question dies on a sigh when suddenly, finally, their lips meet in the middle.

Maybe sharing a room won't be so bad after all.